#k/s drabble

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, day 20: Protect

Protective!Spock is my favoriteeeeee <3 so here we go!!

Also posted on AO3 here!

☆☆☆

Starfleet, in its infinite wisdom, had changed the design of the cutlery in the mess halls, and Kirk hated the new ones.

They were balanced differently, they were less ergonomic, and --- as he bent down to regather the knife that had slipped down off his plate onto the floor for the third time in as many days --- they refused to stay where they were placed. 

He returned to upright to see Uhura and Bones staring in states of shock at Spock, seated next to him. Spock placidly spooned plomeek soup into his mouth and gave no indication that he was aware of their attention. He finished his meal, slid his spoon into the bowl, and stood. “I will be in Laboratory 7 for the remainder of Alpha shift,” he said. “Good-bye.” 

“Bye, Spock,” Uhura said faintly, and she and Bones watched him leave with that same slightly dazed look. 

“Alright,” Kirk said. “That’s enough. Why are you looking at him like that?”

Bones and Uhura looked at each other before answering, which was never a good sign. Uhura must have won whatever argument they were silently having, because it was Bones who sighed and said, “Jim, have you ever noticed that Spock is slightly… overprotective?” 

Kirk started. “Now, I wouldn’t call it over-protective,” he said, shifting in his seat. “He’s loyal. He’s a Vulcan. The ship and her crew are his responsibility, as first officer.” 

“Not with the crew, captain,” Uhura said. “It’s really just with you.” 

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Mr. Spock is the best first officer in the Fleet. Everyone says so. Protective? Sure. But we seem to get into trouble more than most, so that’s probably for the best.” 

Bones and Uhura exchanged another glance. “If you say so, captain,” Uhura said, and they finished the rest of their meal in relative peace. Kirk had nearly forgotten about the exchange until his padd pinged with a message from Bones as he was preparing to lay down for the night. 

>TheRealMcCoy: just saying

>TheRealMcCoy: [Attachment: securityfile3214-25.gif]

Kirk tapped on the gif and it opened. It was a looping video that Bones must have pulled from the security feed, or bribed someone else to pull, more likely. It showed a black and white view of the officer’s mess hall. Kirk saw the square table where he, Bones, Uhura, and Spock had shared lunch earlier in the day. He watched himself set down his knife, which promptly slid backwards off his plate and bounced to the ground. He saw himself bend over sideways to grab at it, ducking his head down beneath the level of the table. 

He saw Spock lean over and cover the corner of the table with his hand. He saw himself come back up, and as his head cleared the edge of the table he saw Spock straighten back up and return his hand to its standard position in his lap. 

Kirk sat down on his bed, expanded the .gif to fill his whole screen, and watched it again. He leaned down to grab the knife and Spock covered the sharp corner of the table with his hand until his head was safely away from it. He watched the .gif over and over again, memorizing the little protective gesture of Spock’s that he hadn’t even noticed at the time but was now immortalized in the security footage. Spock hadn’t even turned his head to look at Kirk before moving to cover the corner. How frequently had this happened? How many of these moments had Uhura and Bones seen that he hadn’t? 

>JTK: Huh 

>JTK: Okay

>JTK: I still don’t think it counts as OVER protective 

>JTK: does this happen a lot?? 

>TheRealMcCoy: the good lord gave you your own eyeballs 

>TheRealMcCoy: how about you use them

“Computer, lights to zero,” he said. He lay in the darkness, trying to sleep, unable to wipe the sight of Spock’s hand sliding over the table’s corner out of his mind. 

☆☆☆ 

Kirk watched his first officer carefully over the next few weeks, and it was an enlightening experience. Nothing in Spock’s behavior or demeanor had changed, but Uhura’s comment of “it’s really just with you” had latched in his brain and reframed how he saw the little quirks of Spock’s protectiveness. They sparred in the gym and, even though Spock threw him, Spock’s hand was behind his head before he hit the ground. They ate lunch in the mess hall and Spock inserted himself in the seat between him and the security officer with a peanut butter sandwich. And, without fail, when the new shitty knives slid off his plate and he had to retrieve them, Spock’s hand was between his head and the table’s edge every time. 

How had he never noticed this before? The Enterprise, when flying on her own, was not a particularly dangerous place. And yet almost every time he encountered something that was slightly hazardous to himself, Spock was there. Each observation warmed him. His stoic, unfeeling, deeply Vulcan first officer was protective of him. He still wasn’t sure if he would call it over-protective, though. 

Kirk did keep a small collection of .gifs on his padd when he could get the security video discreetly. He liked the proof. 

☆☆☆ 

Kirk thought that there was a slight possibility that Spock was a little overprotective of him when he went missing for only a few hours --- alright, was kidnapped like a damsel --- on an away mission and Spock went, according to all reports, absolutely berserk. His first introduction to this idea was Spock ripping the door to his cell clean off its hinges. He threw it behind him, where it hit the wall of the corridor with an almighty clanging, and stepped inside. Kirk stared at him from where he sat on the cot in the corner. Spock stared at him, chest heaving, face flushed green, and as he registered Kirk’s unharmed state and general air of relaxation his breath slowed until he was very nearly back to his normal appearance. 

“Hello there, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, slightly bewildered. 

“Captain,” Spock said, inclining his head. He straightened his uniform shirt and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m gratified to see that you are well. I believe you are free to go.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” he said, rising from the cot. “You were able to negotiate with the rogue faction?” 

“Yes, captain,” Spock said, and turned to follow Kirk out of the cell. “I found that they were willing to acquiesce to my demands rather quickly.” 

“That’s good, very good,” Kirk said distractedly as they walked down the hallway. He did not see any sign of his security team, and there were unconscious guards lying solo or in piles at regular intervals along the hall and down the stairs. He recognized his kidnappers from their clothing among the guards, but they were also all unconscious. 

“What, ah, negotiation tactics did you use, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked as they ascended the stairs into the front hall and reunited with some red-shirted security officers. They stood around with their arms crossed, phasers holstered, and they gave no indication of having participated in any sort of strenuous activity. What had their role been in the fight with the guards…?

“Vulcan ones, captain,” Spock said, and if he noticed that the security officers stared at him with an interesting mix of respect and horror, he gave no outward indication. 

“Ah,” Kirk said. “That’s… good.” He had a feeling he could guess what Vulcan negotiating tactics were, but he reserved judgment until he had received mission reports from his other officers. Spock walked alongside him with his usual reserve, and as he was now free from the cell he had formerly been trapped within, Kirk found that he had no complaints of however Spock chose to negotiate on his behalf. 

On the ship, in his quarters, he read over the reports from his security team, which varied from professional to unfortunately creative, in mounting disbelief. 

First Officer Spock proved the efficacy of the Vulcan art of Suus Mahna in about thirty seconds… 

Science Officer Spock kicked down the door to the building and then neutralized the entire kidnapping party… 

Mr. Spock in combat is, in my professional opinion, somewhat of a demon… 

God help the man who gets between Spock and the captain. 

Kirk pressed his intercom button. “Mr. Spock, could you please come to my quarters for a moment?” 

“Yes, captain.” Spock’s response came immediately, and the man himself appeared in Kirk’s doorway about twenty seconds later. “How can I help you, captain?” 

Kirk handed the padds with the security reports to Spock and sat back down in his desk chair. “Could you please review these and let me know your thoughts on their accuracy?” 

Spock raised one eyebrow at him, but said, “Certainly, captain.” He stood in front of Kirk’s desk and methodically skimmed over each report. He set them down one by one until his hands were empty, and then he clasped them behind his back. 

“I believe these reports to be mostly accurate, if unfortunately unobjective,” Spock said. 

Kirk blinked. “So you did kick the door down.”

“Yes, captain.” 

“And you refused to wait for the security detail.” 

“I did not need them, captain.” 

“And you neutralized the entire threat before ripping my cell door off the hinges.” 

“I believe you witnessed the second part firsthand, captain.” 

“I see,” Kirk said, and covered his hand with his mouth to hide his smile. When he had regained control of his face and looked suitably serious, he said, “Mostly accurate? What in the reports is false?” 

Spock straightened the pile of padds on the desk in front of him, forcing them into perfect alignment. “I do not believe there is a god in this universe that could help the man that stood between us. Good night, captain.” He turned on his heel and left, leaving Kirk gaping at the space he had left behind. He looked back at the stack of padds on his desk to his closed door once more, replaying Spock’s departing words to him in his head.

“I’ll be damned,” Kirk said. He had never been one for pick-up lines, and he wasn’t even sure if that was one, necessarily, but… that was one hell of a pick-up line. He made copies of the security reports and added them to his little folder of proof and if he smiled to himself while he washed his hair in the shower then it was nobody’s business but his own. 

[lxvenderjewel]

Personal Log, 2143.07

I keep having this very specific dream, of me and Spock.

It starts out with some fuck-all party, I’m exhausted and I want to go home. Headache-inducing music is floating through the room, and I can practically taste the alcohol in the air.

Looking around, I see much of our crew and one other species, so I assume this is some post-diplomatic party. I’ve always hated these. I sit back on the chair, sipping the shitty drink in my hand while I look around, trying to spot anyone on the bridge crew, just to amuse myself, when I see Spock, sitting alone as well.

I wave at him and he raises an eyebrow in response, so I make my way over to him.

“Do you ever wonder what these parties are even for?” I sigh, dropping onto the seat next to him.

“To celebrate the aftermath of successful diplomacy, sir?” he says, and I smile minutely.

“Yes, but does anyone even like these?”

“Many do, I can see most of our crew enjoying themselves, sir.”

I hum in response, and we sit in quiet silence for a few minutes, the stench of alcohol and sweat growing heavy in the air.

“I can barely breathe,” I say, turning to him. “Wanna go get some air?”

He nods, and I lead him out of the room, to some balcony elsewhere in the building. We both breathe the air deep, and I sit on the floor.

“Will your clothes not get dirty, sir?”

“I don’t really mind, I’m tired. You’re not?”

“Vulcans do not require–”

“Sleep, yeah, I know. But isn't your body tired?”

He considers this a moment, and decides to sit across from me.

I stare.

He stares.

Something is pulling me close to him, closer, too close, I’m going to make a mistake, I need to stop–

I wake up.

[wonryllis]

YOU'RE MADE OF, ANGEL DUST 𓍼 PRINCESS TREATMENT with enhypen.

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen being the rhys larsen to your bridget. fem!r. fluff, fluffffff and fluffff. requested. wordcount` 1907. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

gives you his coat, heeseung always makes sure to be properly dressed to accommodate you. taking out his warm fuzzy coat for you to wear when you're cold and don't have enough layers to when you need his jacket to cover your lap while seated, your dress riding up. although he absolutely loves having his hands on your tender skin, kneading your thighs when you sit beside him to his arm hooked at the curve of your waist able to feel the heat off your body; he'd rather have you feel comfortable and free.

holds all your stuff for you, like your jacket when you're too hot and don't want to keep it on anymore, your heels when your feet hurt; his big shoes switched with your dainty heels that are a bit too small for his feet, your purse with all your makeup and tissues and glasses and sunscreen and everything you think you need; in his hands the moment you step out the door. and it's not like you have to say anything, he just does it himself first.

let's you raid his place, the spare key, the passcode, his schedule, you know everything and you are always free to show up and use his house however you want to. you can empty the fridge and dirty the kitchen trying to cook, mess up the living room and heeseung would come back and ask you if you had fun, in fact his fridge is filled with things you love and the cabinets are filled with appliances you like to use to experiment the recipes you come up with.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

opens doors and helps you sit first, the car door, the restaurant door, the cafe entrance, your apartment unit door literally every door he possibly can he opens and stands back to let you walk through it first. and then when you reach the table, he's pulling your chair to help you sit first before bringing the drinks you want or the desserts you like or ordering the food. in the car he'll open the passenger door for you, and offer his hand to hold onto while you get inside and then put on your seatbelt for you.

buys you anything you want, that little dress that caught your eye at the mall but they were out of your sizes, the necklace you saw in a tv commercial that you seemed to like a lot, the heels you said looked good on one of the fashion magazine models, it's all in your bedroom in a week. literally any thing that you show interest in, jay makes sure you have it one way or another. asking you to doll up and do a pretty show for him.

takes you out to wherever you want to go to, you have to just mention it even if it's in the passing and jay will take you there as soon as he can. from little dates in a new bakery to destination vacays nothing is impossible when it comes to you. the new restaurant with months long reservation and holiday stops that have all year round bookings everything is at you feet in an instant flick of a finger.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

gives you piggyback rides whenever you ask for it, when your feet hurt, when your heels break, when you twist your ankle, when you're tipsy, and when you just feel like it, jake is always ready to hold you against his back, arms hooked under your knees, one hand holding your shoes, heels, slippers. and all he asks for you to keep giving him kisses every two seconds to charge his fuel as he races you down the road while you both giggle and laugh.

let's you do anything with him, a wide range of things. experimenting with makeup on him, tying his hair into little ponies, dress him in funky outfits, drag him to little places any time of the day, from cute manga cafes to fancy dinner reservations he has no idea of (but he's paying for it, he swears) he just loves being your boyfriend it doesn't matter what you do.

buys you anything that reminds him of you, he sees a little penguin plushie that looks a little too much like you, he's getting it. he sees a dress he thinks would look way too pretty on you, he's getting it. he finds a cute plant he thinks you'd love to have in your room, he's getting it. he comes across a bunch of fresh flowers he knows you'll be so happy to receive, he's getting it. he finds a lotion that smells like you, he's getting it (for himself lol) and also he'd absolutely buy anything you said you wanted, he'd rather descend to hell than let you buy anything yourself.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

drives you everywhere, college classes and weekend internship to girls' night out and midnight cravings. he'll put alarms to be right on time to drop you off wherever you'd be going and then later waiting for you outside your university gates, at your workplace, by the night bar to pick you up and get you back home. always waking up at once when you tell me you want to eat something and immediately taking you there in the middle of the night, telling you to sit wherever you want or wait in the car while he gets you your food.

let's you borrow his clothes and accessories, he absolutely hates the idea of his clothes touching someone else skin unless it's you. allows you to just grab anything from his closet you'd like without any need to ask him ever. sometimes he'd even pick something himself and ask you to wear it for him, to cover it with your soft scent. showing off to his friends when he wears that saying my girlfriend wore and it smells like her, pretty right?

takes pictures of you anywhere you go, most of times he'd be tagging along with you with his professional camera he got in a limited edition just to store photos of you. he'd carry it everywhere you go together and click random candids and spontaneous videos. always asking you to pose pretty for him and taking pictures until you're satisfied. later editing it in a long video he plans to surprise you with. a heartfelt video, a look into you through his love filled eyes.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

gets you your favorite food and desserts any time of the day, he knows everything you like and he knows when you want it too. always surprising you with it whenever he gets the chance. looking up new places to take you to, exploring all kinds of food and sweets. making special reservations in places famous for dishes that are to your taste. bringing you new baked goodies in the middle of the day or at the break of dawn. plus point if you asked for it he's getting you that within an hour.

makes you special handmade gifts for special occasions, he thinks it carries more meaning if he puts in efforts to prepare something from scratch for you, so that everytime you look at it you think of him. like a little couple bracelet, or custom perfume, or crocheting you a pretty top. and if he bakes something for you he'd always film your reaction eating it, his laughs and giggles recorded along in the background. the special little moments of simple love where you both make each other happy over the tiniest things.

ready to learn anything just to please you, from short time hobbies you pick up like drawing doodles and gardening plants to taking professional classes like pottery and ballet. he'd do just about anything to make you happy, tagging along as company so that you can share even more interests together. he'd also take secret candle making classes when you start getting obsessed with them to make you his own ones. using scents that'll help you feel relaxed.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

brings you flowers and small gifts every week, he needs to see you smile uncontrollably at his actions and what's better than to give his pretty girlfriend receive pretty flowers, always making sure to get a new bouquet before that last one withers. and anything he sees, tiny little small things that remind him of you and that he thinks you'd love he'll buy immediately and show up at your doorstep to give it to you with a short sweet cute handwritten note along with it. sometimes he'd hide it and put directions all around the house for you.

fixes your clothes and helps you put on your shoes, he loves loves and loves being able to be of help to you, fixing the hem of your dress or skirt when it hikes up, tugging the straps of your crop tops and sundresses when they slip off, tying the strings of your backless tops if they come undone. removing your hair out of the way when it gets stuck under your clothes, tucking in your bra straps when they accidentally show, you just gotta doll up and jungwon will make sure you look best. sits you down before going out, getting on his knees to slip on your heels or sneakers himself.

always has a hand on you when you're outside to make sure you're safe, makes sure you're always on the side away from the road, his hands on your waist to hold you in case you'd trip and fall or someone pushes you. hands on your thighs, when you are in some restaurant, or holding your hands even if he's busy talking to someone else around the table. he just loves to hold you. it's become a habit at this point.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

buys an extra of things you use a lot, anything that you seem to have a habit of using, he'll look thoroughly and get or order it to keep it with him in a small bag he takes everywhere with you. and when you seem to forget to bring yours, he's pulling it out his pouch and handing it to you. your regular cherry lipgloss or your shea butter lotion or your peach scented handcream, your compact powder, sunscreen stick, aloe wipes, your soft fragrance deo, apple mints you much on and just about everything.

patiently waits for you to get ready, he will wait for a million gazillion years for you, and only you. sitting on your bed or outside your room, either watching you or taking candid pics or just looking through his phone. even if you take an entire hour deciding an outfit he'll sit with a grin and help you choose, telling you his thought on each option. even if you end up wearing something you totally said you wouldn't in the end he's just happy to be of any help.

let's you use his account to play games, his life lies in his game accounts, but if you say you wanna try playing something he'd sit you with him and teach you how to play, encouraging that you're doing so well even if you're making an absolute blunder. if you insist on multiplayer mode he'd definitely let you win, happy to see you happy. and if you mess up something on his account he won't say a word. he can just do it again.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @enhaswirlds @enhasnuggles @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun

[keisgirl]

just us; andteam nicholas

prompt; #9  "(hugging) you act like you don’t need it, but you hold on just a little tighter every time."

pairing; bf!nicholas x reader

wc; 1.1k

note; first writing/// i dont know if which catagory this fits in lol i feel like its fluff,, anyways nicho my bias line member took the honor of the first writing

finding moots and pls reblog if u liked it <3

cheers - hannah,,

kpop drabble masterlist | prompt list #1

the door clicked shut behind nicholas as he stepped inside, his presence filling the quiet apartment. his hair was messy, with frustration evident on his face. you watched from the couch as he took off his shoes with practised ease while his jacket falling from his shoulders and landing carelessly on the back of a chair. he didn’t say a word, barely even glanced in your direction. 

instead of heading for you like he usually did, he went straight to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. the way he twisted the cap off, the tension in his movements, told you everything you needed to know. he was tired but it wasn’t just physical; it was the kind of exhaustion that nagged at him from the inside, the one he rarely talked about but couldn’t hide.

you heard the soft click of the fridge door as he closed it, followed by the sound of him taking a long sip of water. he leaned against the counter for a moment, his head hanging low, shoulders hunched as if the weight of the day was too much to bear. you could see the way his jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on some spot on the floor, lost in thought. he didn’t need to tell you what was wrong; you already knew.

sighing quietly, you set down the blanket you’d been folding, the fabric slipping from your fingers as you made your way toward him. he didn’t move as you approached, didn’t even flinch when you came up behind him. gently, you slipped your arms around his waist and pressed your body against his back, your chin resting on his shoulder.

"you act like you don’t need it," you whispered, your voice soft against the quiet of the room.

he tensed at your touch, the same way he always did when he was overwhelmed. but then, slowly, you felt his body give in, the stiffness in his shoulders melting away as he leaned back into you. he hand came up to cover yours, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin. 

"yeah, maybe," he muttered, voice rough, as if admitting that small truth was more than he wanted to say out loud. his fingers tightened slightly around yours, just enough for you to feel that he was holding on, even if he wouldn’t say it.

for a while, neither of you said anything. you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, watching the world outside the window grow darker. his breathing steadied, the rise and fall of his chest matching the gentle rhythm of yours. it was moments like this, when words weren’t necessary, that you felt the closest to him. he didn’t need to tell you what was wrong, didn’t need to explain why he had been so quiet all day. Just being there, with him, was enough.

nicho let out a long sigh, as if the weight he’d been carrying all day was finally starting to lift. you tightened your arms around him, resting your forehead against his back now, feeling the steady beat of his heart through his shirt. there was something so soothing about being close to him like this, something that made all the other noise in the world disappear.

"baby, is this okay?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. you didn’t need to ask, really. you knew it was. but there was always a part of you that wanted to make sure, to check in with him, especially on days like today when he seemed so far away.

he didn’t answer right away. his fingers traced slow, absent-minded star patterns over the back of your hand, the silence stretching out between you. and then, after a long pause, he nodded, the movement slight but certain.

"yeah," he murmured. "it’s more than okay."

you smiled against his back, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. he wasn’t one for grand declarations or emotional outbursts, but when he did open up, even just a little, it meant everything.

after a while, you felt him shift, gently turning in your arms so he could face you. his eyes, usually so guarded, were softer now, the hard edges worn down by the quiet. he didn’t say anything, just looked at you for a long moment, like he was trying to figure out how to let you in without giving too much away. but you didn’t need him to explain. you already knew.

you reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead, your fingers lingering there for just a moment longer than necessary. he closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into it slightly, and you could see the tiredness carved into his features. not just the physical exhaustion, but something deeper, something that had been weighing on him for a while now..

"you’ve always been here for me," he said quietly, as if the thought had only just come to him. "even when I don’t say anything... even when I try to push you away."

you tilted your head slightly, your eyes soft as you met his gaze. "i’m here because i want to be," you said simply. "not because you need me to be, but because i choose to be. everyone will have their bad days once in a while, it’s okay nicho"

in that moment, nothing else mattered. not the stress, not the expectations, not the long days or the sleepless nights. it was just you and him, wrapped up in each other, safe in the knowledge that you didn’t have to face the world alone.

"i don’t deserve you," he murmured after a long pause, his voice muffled against your hair.

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, furrowing slightly. "dont say that. you deserve all the love and care in the world, and more."

his eyes softened at your words, and for the first time that evening, you saw the tension completely leave his face. he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for just a moment longer than usual. it was his silent way of saying thank you, of letting you know that he heard you, even if he couldn’t find the words to say it.

you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his kiss settle over you, and in that moment, you felt the closeness between you deepen. this wasn’t just about comforting him anymore; it was about sharing the weight, about building something stronger between the two of you, something that didn’t need to rely on perfect days or easy moments.

for @hylwsidym

[evertidings]

no one told K falling for someone feels like drowning. they’ve heard it all before, the supposed fireworks in the pit of your stomach, the feeling of free-falling, only with the assurance someone will be waiting to catch you at the bottom. with their previous partners, the realization was like a soft “oh” spoken into the haze of a sunday morning. the second time was filled with more anxiety, said with a nauseating aura that almost made them hurl, but even that was eventually sated with time and care.

but the third is different. the third is with you.

it’s suffocating on their own breath, strained vocals and a panicked fear in their chest that they swear threatens to burst through their ribcage. it’s staring at your side profile, frustrated at the two halves of themself at war. it’s watching your expression morph into hurt when they pull away from your touch. it’s tears prickling their eyes when you do make contact, K’s fear urging them to simultaneously pull away and get closer.

they want. K wants and wants but never lets themself take. because they’ve learned that when they do, the universe will always find a way to set a balance. you’re given something only to have another taken away. your love is warm until it’s K holding the hand of a cold corpse.

but then why is it that each time their head goes under the waves, they see you reaching out for them? if you’re the one who brought them the ocean, why are you also the one trying to save them?

they whisper this question in the dark, to your sleeping figure after you’ve fallen asleep on their couch. you don’t answer, of course, but K can’t even fake resentment for it.

they just wish you’d make up your mind. because live or drown, they know they’re already doomed. it’s only a matter of how.

[illegalpaladin]

Drabble request: spirk picnic

Thank you for the request!!! It was nice to write something cute and fluffy for Spirk 💖

“So. Spock. What do you think of your first picnic?”

Jim pulled out all the stops. A checkered blanket spread across the gentle slope of a grassy hill. A pile of bite sized cucumber sandwiches. Hell–he even replicated a wicker basket.

He watches nervously as Spock scans the meadow, taking in the bright flowers that dot its surface.

Spock clears his throat. “It is certainly an… idyllic use of time.”

Jim's mouth twitches into a frown. It's a non-answer. Is Spock enjoying himself? Is he bored?

The next words out of Jim's mouth are a panicked attempt to fill the silence. “Have you ever done cloud gazing?”

Spock turns his attention from the green field to Jim, a pointed eyebrow raised. “I can't say I have, Jim.”

Jim’s grin returns. “Well, it's another idyllic use of time, but I think you'll like it.” He has his doubts, actually, but he keeps them to himself. He's been so nervous around Spock recently–ever since they started this relationship, or whatever they'd call it.

He stretches his legs out in front of him and reclines, leaning his weight against his hands behind him. “Come here, Spock. Let me show you.”

Spock shifts until he's next to Jim and copies his posture. They're close enough that Jim can almost feel their fingertips brushing. He blushes, and it reminds him of falling in love as a young man again.

“That cloud there–” Jim shifts his weight onto one arm and points at a particularly fluffy cloud in the periwinkle sky. “Take a look. What do you see?”

He glances at Spock just long enough to see him blink. “That is a cumulus cloud.”

It startles a laugh out of Jim. “No, Spock–we aren't classifying them. What does it look like?”

“A cumulus cloud.”

“Hm.” Jim lets himself fall back until he's laying across the blanket. He points at another fluffy cloud. “I think that one looks like a cat's head. See the ears? What do you think?”

He's almost surprised when Spock lays next to him. Their shoulders brush, and Jim feels heat rise to his cheeks at the intimacy.

“That one is also a cumulus cloud, Jim.”

Jim feels his heart sink–just a little. He feels like he's failing Spock somehow. Letting him down.

Spock shifts next to him. Suddenly, Jim feels a cool hand resting on top of his. Fingers moving to tangle with his own.

Jim feels his heart skip.

“And I do believe,” Spock hums, “that it represents a sehlat much more than it does a Terran feline.”

[darkheartedprince]

DIAL TONE .

< RING . . . RING . . . RING . . . > ' Hello ? Hey , just kidding ! It's Sora , leave a message ! ' BEEP !

Riku's fingers drummed around his gummiphone as he listened to that voicemail response . One week since Sora had disappeared . It was only a week , surely Sora would come back . . . right ?

[ [ R i g h t ] ] ?

❝ -- Hey , Sora . It's me . I don't know where you went this time , and Kairi's really worried about you . . . But I promised her I'd find you . You better answer next time I call . ❞

He hoped it would be EASY , but a [ [ f o o l ] ] would expect that to be the case . The first time he made that call he was standing on the beach at the peak of the day staring at the SAME place where their journey started all those years ago .

. . . Now , history was repeating itself .

Weeks turned into MONTHS , and suddenly Riku found himself standing in the Hundred Acre Wood staring at a picture of Sora on his gummiphone . While Pooh did his best to comfort him , Riku was able to return the kindness to the golden - yellow bear and assure him that Sora's okay he's just . . . sleeping .

< RING . . . RING . . . RING . . . > ' Hello ? Hey , just kidding ! It's Sora , leave a message ! ' BEEP !

Riku's lips formed a hyphen as silence followed that HALLOWING beep for the tenth time . His aquamarine eyes stared at the screen while the clock counted up .

❝ -- Hey , Sora . . . it's me , again . I- ❞

' - And Pooh !'

Riku smiled slightly as he nodded , ❝ Y-Yeah , and Pooh . I'm going back to every place you told me about . You aren't in one of them . . . Where are you . . . ? Call me back ? Please ? ❞

-- All I wanted was an answer . . .

As he ended the call , Riku felt the [ [ p l u s h ] ] arms of a certain bear wrap around his leg . He couldn't bring himself to look down -- he couldn't get himself to look down and see someone with as much HOPE in their eyes as Sora used to have .

. . . It'd KILL him .

' Don't worry , Riku ! Wherever Sora is , he's probably just having a big smackeral of honey and a good nap ! '

While Riku knew that was probably true , there was something in his gut that was telling him otherwise . Regardless , the silverette placed a callused hand on Pooh's head to offer him a sense of comfort .

❝ . . . Yeah , I'm sure he is . ❞

A short time following that conversation , and a brief snack later , and Riku was back on his gummiship soaring through the galaxy to find his best friend .

Then those months quickly became a YEAR . Every time he felt a vibration in his pocket he would feel a tinge of hope in his heart that the person reaching out to him was Sora after all this time ! Yet . . . It never was . It was always Mickey telling about his next Master's mission , or Kairi telling her of a memory she had , and Namine wishing him a safe journey. Or Terra , telling him to be careful and not to kill himself looking for Sora because he knew , all too well , that he would .

The world he heavily AVOIDED was the Realm of Darkness , because it was a world that they had escaped together many a time . Oh , how he [ [ w i s h e d ] ] he wasn't there . Just like every other world , Riku explored it from top to bottom , fending for his [ [ l i f e ] ] where he needed to and finding shelter when he could . After . . . who knew how long , Riku's boots gently crushed the darkened sand of the shore as he looked out at the hauntingly familiar indigo sunset .

By now in his search , sleep was becoming a thing of the past . Maybe a nap here or there , or a quick snack , but no solid meals . . . and no longer bouts of sleep . His mind was too focused on something MORE important than his own well-being . As his hope started to crumble , the harrowing voices in his mind grew louder while his mental and physical health fell victim to darkness .

What was worse ? That every time he closed his eyes he could see GHOSTS of what they all used to have and how happy they were . . . Then Riku walked away , now Sora .

Still . . .

Once again , a trembling hand reached into his pocket to take out his gummiphone . As he had done so many times at this point , Riku dialed Sora's number . This time , he put it on speaker while he simply stared out at the water .

< RING . . . RING . . . RING . . . > ' Hello ? Hey , just kidding ! It's Sora , leave a message ! ' BEEP !

Deep from within his chest , Riku let out a heavy sigh . His fingers twisted around his gummiphone as he turned over his left shoulder and somberly made his way back to his gummiship . . . again .

❝ -- Hey , Sora . It's me . Where the fuck are you ? This isn't a game anymore , Sora ! You know that , don't you ? ❞

He SQUEEZED his eyes shut while he leaned his back against the side of his gummiship .

❝ -- You disappeared without a trace . Kairi doesn't even know where the fuck you went . You better have a good reason for what you did . . . You owe us , Sora . ❞

All I wanted was an answer --

He bit his lip as he hesitated before adding on very quietly , ❝ . . . You owe her . ❞

-- All I needed was to know .

Then he hung up , climbed back into his ship and headed on his way as he had hundreds of times before . At this point , he was starting to lose hope .

And he [ [ r a r e l y ] ] did that .

One year swiftly became two , then three , then four . . . Each day was the same , in and out . Everywhere he went , Riku asked faces new and old if they had seen Sora , or had an inkling of where he might be , but he always ended up with nothing or at a dead end . Eventually , and after years of being away from home on this massive search , Riku FINALLY managed to drag himself back . Once the front door was locked , now a shell of who he once was , warn - down boots dragged along hardwood floors to the bathroom . The bag he brought with him he had managed to drag halfway through the house before dropping it carelessly in the hallway . With a THUD , bruised hands clutched at the counter of the sink as he looked at himself in the mirror .

His normally bright , ocean - teal eyes were dark and heavy from years of EXHAUSTION that threatened to take him to the abyss . His entire body was [ [ l i t t e r e d ] ] with cuts , bruises , and more from having to defend himself everywhere he went .

I don't have nothing to lose . . .

As he had done hundreds of times at this point , Riku reached into his pocket to turn on his gummiphone . He looked at his screen FLOODED with notifications from people that he cared about . Many of them from Kairi , Terra , Namine and Mickey . A few from Aqua . And as he had done [ [ m a n y ] ] times before , Riku pushed away all those notications so that he could get to Sora's contact . And as he had done , he dialed Sora's number .

< RING . . . RING . . . RING . . . > ' Hello . The number you have dialed is no longer in service . Goodbye . ' BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP ! . . .

Suddenly , Riku's heart SANK into his shoes .

❝ H-Hey , you can't just -- This isn't a joke , Sora ! ❞

So , he tried again , his grip on his phone growing tighter .

< RING . . . RING . . . RING . . . > ' Hello . The number you have dialed is no longer in service . Goodbye . ' BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP ! . . .

❝ That can't - . . . No -- NO ! ❞

. . . and again .

<RING . . . RING . . . RING . . .> ' Hello . The number you have dialed is no longer in service . Goodbye . ' BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP ! . . .

❝ -- SORA ! ANSWER ME ! ❞

. . . and again .

< RING . . . RING . . . RING . . . > ' Hello . The number you have dialed--'

❝ FUCK ! ❞

YOU JUST WALKED AWAY !

Until Riku had heard enough . Before the pre-recorded message had finished playing , Riku HURLED his phone at the bathroom wall , watching the screen [ [ c r a c k ] ] into many different lines and fragments like a broken mirror . The silverette then screamed a scream of ANGUISH as he [ [ s l a m m e d ] ] his first into the wall .

Oh , how long the world had WISHED that that boy would have released the sounds of pain he was now releasing after reaching his absolute breaking point . At long last , all this endlessly searching for his best friend [ [ f i n a l l y ] ] killed his light .

. . . I never thought you'd be the reason that I learned to hate myself .

Punch after punch , the wall took a beating until Riku's body physically couldn't do any more damage . After some time , he turned and shoved his back into the wall of his bathroom then slid onto the bathroom floor with his knees drawn to his chest . Stinging tears [ [ r a p i d l y ] ] trailed down his cheeks while he buried his face into his arms .

❝ Wh-Where are you , Sora . . . ? ❞

BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP ! . . .

Give me a reason . . . ?

. . . I need a reason .

[redrosydiaz]

wow yall really hate gen fics huh lmao

[silvcrignis]

Hunt A Killer || Verse Bio || Dead By Daylight

“Keira. I’m not pleased. In the slightest,” the tall blonde man suddenly in the doorframe of her office growled.

Green eyes darted up from her pile of paperwork & moving fountain pen as Keira looked back up at Lucifer, head tilted as she thought about what would have Satan seething this way. Both herself & Lucifer had moments where they got very, very angry over the most inconsequential reasons at times but she didn’t think this was exactly that. It doesn’t take her long, both she & Lucifer thought very similarly & her eyes widened as she clicked her tongue.

“You figured out the roster issue? I swear the names that aren’t crossed out on that thing have doubled.”

“Indeed. I have.”

Her next sentence was prefixed by a little cross between a groan & a growl as one hand rose to rub her temple as the other gestured him all the way inside of her lavish working space.

“I know that tone, Brimstone… How bad is it?” she sighed, internally bracing herself as he sat across from her.

Lucifer’s response was a brandished folder which was immediately taken & Keira began sorting through the multitude of photographs (really the Anomalies Department had outdone themselves on this, they needed to arrange some sort of recognition event for that team) & when she had finished she was just as irked as her colleague, her eyes now a flickering orange.

“You cannot be fucking- Something is stealing them?! Why? I don’t even fucking care about how I want to fucking know w h y Morningstar?!”

…Morningstar? She only called him that when she was deadly serious. Good. He needed them to be on the same page, he had chosen her for a reason, but sometimes she didn’t take things as seriously as she should because she knew it would annoy him. Her cooperation was one H E L L of a relief. He could feel the tension melting slightly from his shoulders as he pulled a single folded up paper from his suit pocket, holding it between his index & middle finger as Keira rose an eyebrow at him.

“… Do you want to handle this? I know you’re much better at brokering compromises than I.” he snickered, stretching his occupied fingers towards her.

(He had a point there. She was slightly more flexible though that didn’t mean she was any less ruthless in the end. Lucifer made demands, Keira swathed hers in the guise of a suggestion but they both always got whatever they wanted out of them.)

“Oh. You indulge me far too much sometimes, Your Majesty…”

“We are in Hell, Your Grace,” he reminded her as she took the offering while snickering at his veiled pun.

Lucifer’s naturally hissing voice was coloured with a tone of befuddlement over the phone

“… 500 years? How the fuck did you manage to do that? I figured that slithering sky penis would at least want you for a millennium.”

“Everyone wants me longer but that’s really up to my whims,” she purred back, grinning slightly at Lucifer’s responding snort.

“Anyway, I do have the rest of terms if you are interested. I feel like this is the start of a fantastic working relationship. Honestly a war wouldn’t be worth it. You’ve seen the roster you know our armies would just….”

“Yes, they would. It would be pitiful. But we’d be amused. However the terms would be useful considering the contract delivered to my desk was already sealed.”

“They are indeed going to stop just randomly picking from our roster. In exchange, we’ll make one for them. I actually don’t really mind their little project here besides the pilfering, it looks like something we would do if we had the time, honestly.”

“…Good… Anything else?”

“Pan’s here with me, he decided to tag along. Though there’s no extra stipulations with him, he just wanted to I’m just being transparent.”

“My condolences.”

“Appreciate you for that, I’ll need them. Now on to the best part. It took a little wheedling & eventually I offered the 500 years of servitude before it budged but…”

Lucifer could tell by her tone in her trailing off there was a reason she was saving this part for last & honestly he could indulge her need for begging this time, what she said would be more than worth it.

“Miss Black, if get any closer to the edge of my throne I’ll fall off.”

“Ooh, you’re on the throne right now? Am I on speaker?”

“Of course I am, this is important.”

“Well, in exchange for my good faith offer, if it does get bored of any of its squirmy little toys taken before todays signing… We get them. Not just the ones taken from our roster but their pissy terrified little lab rats too!”

For a moment Lucifer was silent even as the whispers among their gathered subordinates started, a slow, unhinged smile spreading on his face.

“… If I were standing next to you right now, I would kiss you.”

“Hold that thought for five centuries, keeps the euphoria alive. Though. The downside is you will be a solo act for a while again. Think you can handle reclaiming the mantel while I’m gone?”

“I’ll make it. Have fun. Also I know you must be elated sharing a field with Myers but…”

“Yeah. Fucking Ghostface… At least I might get a chance at dropping his goofy ass. Still can’t believe Regina thought I wanted a box set of his shit antics… The first Scream was okay, why the fuck didn’t they stop after that one?”

“To torment & punish you. Specifically. If you need anything…”

“I’ll use the Betelgeuse method, got it. Bye, Lucifer.”

He had already said his own farewell so he was hardly offended when she hung up. As soon as she did she cackled.

“Fucking sucker. I only have to stay in the realm during the trials… I just hate contract duty,” The Hellion snorted, folding her arms behind her head & sauntering off to her own cute little realm lovingly named “The Terror Dome”. Hmmm. She hoped these human fuckbags knew Greek mythology. The Labyrinth would be a GREAT first time theme.

@manufactoredxbyxdesign & @dcmur3 are real ones for liking that post so they get tagged in the l o r e

Also ye das right Albert keep being a bad lad & ur goin to Heck ur ass was on that roster too babyyy 👺

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, day 27: Scratches

Buh-bam: here's another little drabble. Behold: Bones finds out.

☆☆☆

“Bones, please, it’s not a big deal. They just sting a little bit.”

“Not a big deal? Jesus, Jim! Would you have even told me if Uhura hadn’t ratted you out?” 

“No, I wouldn’t have! Honestly, I didn’t even know they were there.” 

“There is blood! Coming through your shirt! How did you not know they were there?” 

Jim scratched the back of his head, staring at the bioscanner beeping cheerily next to him. His heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature all looked great. He didn’t have any broken bones. He was in an excellent mood. But Uhura had seen a tiny bit of blood staining his command golds and gasped, “Captain!” loudly enough for the rest of the bridge crew to turn to look at him and voice their concerns. 

All, of course, except Mr. Spock, who had refused to turn to see what was happening, staring dutifully into his sensors instead. Jim had deputized him to take the conn and departed for medbay before he could laugh.

Unfortunately, Bones did not think the blood on his shirt was as funny as he did, and he was rapidly running out of excuses. 

“Was this from an away mission? Did someone with a grudge come after you in the gym? Let me see, Jim---”

“Bones, stop! It’s fine! I swear, I would have told you if it was serious, and it wasn’t serious!” 

“Oh, so you do know where they’re from?” 

Jim bit his lip and refused to meet Bones’s eyes. “I don’t know,” he said unconvincingly. Bones planted his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows. 

“Alright, then!” Jim pushed himself to his feet. “Since it’s all fine and nothing is wrong, I’ll just go home and change---”

“Don’t you even---”

Jim tried to duck out of the way, but Bones was faster. He caught the back of Jim’s collar in one hand as Jim twisted away, and with an almighty rending of fabric the damn shirt tore halfway down his back. If he ever met someone from Starfleet Fabrications and Material Construction he was going to have words with them. The number of shirts he had ripped on this mission alone…

Bones stared in disbelief at his exposed back as Jim fought and lost to the rising flush on his cheeks. “So I’ll be going now,” he said. 

“Jesus, Jim,” Bones said again, softly. “Someone did this to you.” Bones gently reached one hand up, and the look on his face was so distraught that Jim knew he had to tell him the truth before he assumed something far worse. 

“No, it’s not like that. It wasn’t in anger.”

The distress drained away immediately, replaced with suspicion. The extended hand clenched into a fist and was returned to Bones’s waist as the good doctor regarded him with narrowed eyes. Jim’s face burned hotter and he knew he was as red as a summer tomato, but he held eye contact. 

“Someone clawed at your back hard enough to break the skin, and it wasn’t in anger,” Bones said. 

“That’s correct, doc.” 

Bones eyed the scratches on his back --- that Jim truly had not known were there, hadn’t even registered them as painful in the moment--- and then Jim saw, in the dawning shock and amused horror on Bones’s face, the pieces coming together. This wasn’t exactly how he had intended to tell his best friend that he had finally managed to successfully woo his first officer, but the truth will out. 

“Well, at least that’s a relief,” Bones finally said. “Whose hands are so damn big?” 

“Can I have another shirt, please?”

Bones finally turned away from him, heading towards the storage closet. Jim followed. “I would appreciate your discretion, doctor,” Jim said. 

“In what, Jim? Your adventures across the galaxy aren’t exactly a secret. You don’t normally sleep with crewmates, that’s true, but I suppose…” 

“It’s not like that this time, Bones,” Jim said. 

“Not like that? Who am even I talking to right now?” Bones muttered, pulled a new black t-shirt from a box in the closet, and turned back to him. Then Jim saw Bones’s eyes fixate on his face and shoulders and take him in--- his flushed cheeks, his half-smile, the scratches on his back that had been left by someone with great strength and enormous hands. He grinned wholeheartedly as Bones spluttered. 

“Jim Kirk, you did not.” 

“Oh, but I did,” he said, with great delight, and took the shirt from Bones’s limp hands. “And I intend to do it again. And again. Maybe forever.” 

“Stop,” Bones said immediately, throwing his hands into the air. “I don’t want to know any more. Matter of fact, I don’t want to think about this topic at all.” 

“Are you sure?” Jim teased, following Bones back out into the main Medbay. “I thought you wanted to know what happened. Weren’t you so worried just a moment ago? Can I at least get an antiseptic?” 

Bones grabbed a tube of antiseptic from a biobed drawer and threw it at him. “Get out!” 

“You’re not going to help me?” 

With a withering look, Bones turned to disappear into his office. “Get your boyfriend to do it.”  “Maybe I will!” Jim called, and Bones slammed the door in his face. He was having an excellent day, and it wasn’t even lunchtime. With a spring in his step he departed. Maybe he would call Spock to help with the antiseptic. They were due for a few conversations, anyway.

[wonryllis]

✶ ENHYPEN REVEALING THEIR IDOL!S/O

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ idol!enhypen staking their claim publicly. fem!r. fluff, fluffff and fluffff. requested. wordcount` 677. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he makes a song for you as a birthday gift and posts it on soundcloud as a surprise, tweeting about it as "my gift for you, love" and everyone is loses it because one it's sounds too intimate for it to be about fans and two it's your birthday. there's so much rumours and people shipping you both and dying over how sweet and boyfie heeseung is. literally in a day there's edits going around and fans finally notice the subtle signs. later on with the company's permission he reveals it at a show when asked about the song.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 he won't, trust he would never want to let the relationship go public knowing the hate you both could possibly get. so if fans ever come to know of it, then it is through the early dispatch tradition of revealing celeb couples. he will let the company handle it first and check up on how you are doing. then when things have calmed down a bit he will personally write a letter in his classic style expressing his love both for you and his fans and how much you both mean to him, his two worlds.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 he's so unserious but serious as well? like he will make sure by his life he doesn't get caught with you in public. but he will have these love sick eyes and smitten face while looking at you during shows and tiktok challenges and when he's watching you perform and when your song comes up anywhere. fans had always been suspicious of the guy being absolutely in love and their first guess was someone from your group and it was proved when you both mutually decided to make an official statement.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 my guy will literally drop the bomb through an social media post, twitter, weverse, instagram any or all he'll post a picture of you both from behind the scenes from an interaction you had in the past captioned "my girl!" and the just dip. fans won't hear from him for a week until he accidentally pops into one of the members' live. probably jungwon who asks him how he's doing and he'll go like yeah life's been great, i just came back from a date with y/n, it was fun. jungwon left stunned.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 he constantly wants to make it public but the pr team just wouldn't let him? so he decides to do the undo, he runs home on a weekend, invites you with him and does a live with you together! let the pr team be damned, ignoring the calls and messages as you both giggle while starting a new live every time the staff ends it. making the fans go crazy over the situation when they put two and two together and figure it all out. he'll also simultaneously answer the fans' questions on weverse.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 he will literally beg the management to let you both attend a show together most probably something like running man and then he will make a sneaky little perfect plan to show the fans just how good and compatible you two look, playing the knight in shining armour and helping you even though you are in the opposing team. he just wants to convey silently to everyone his love for you through his actions before he drops the ultimate news through an official announcement.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 it was accidental, completely an accident. he just meant to change the twitter account layout to prank the fans but instead of the ugly picture of one of his hyungs, he ended up putting a picture of you both from your last date. and even though it was only for a few minutes before he changed, fans had already taken screenshots and tons of rumours had already started spreading. so he says fuck it and after going through the reactions for a few hours he's posting the same pic again, texting you about it later as if you haven't already been flooded by your fans.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries

[warncdandwiles]

Since I've taken the Tabaluga world and put it through the pasta-extruder that is my brain, I do wonder how Eisworld fared with a temperamental, spoiled, extremely lonely and traumatized child as its host. With his mother's court and council struggling for power, many made the mistake of either trying to control him or bribe him, which didn't help his entitled mindset.

This Eisworld was one of blizzards, blazing winter-suns and overall unpredictable weather, tied to the emotional state of a rambunctious little snow-child. Low-key would do a thread about it.

Thinking of little Arktos, I have started wondering how an interacting between him and the absolute menace that is his alternate movie self would play out.

[minbon]

🐰 JJK Fics 🐰

a.k.a. the fics that introduced me to a whole new obsession.

or in other words... i thought i was never into jjk, but these fics proved me wrong 😩😩😩

°°°°°°•

One Night Stand by @buryhny (ceo!jk, a,f,s, pregnancy, slowburn) ["wanna go upstairs?"]

Sweet & Spicy by @ktownshizzle (fluff, idol!au, strangers to ?) [“Are you also on the menu?”] (this is a drabble to K's T&C)

Play pretend ! by @frmisnow (smut, angst , fwb) ["Fuck, I think I like you"]

Just a Veil by @jjungkookislife (430 words BUT the angst in here???) ["You would never be Jungkook’s bride."]

Navigating Tides by @jjungkookislife (exes to lovers, a, f, s) [“Let’s make up for lost time.”]

RUN [ I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII] by @neonlights92 (arranged marriage, gang au) [“I suppose I should welcome you to the family, ...Mrs Jeon.”]

Colour Me In by @taegularities (fwb, fake dating, college!au; f, a, s) ["I need you to be my boyfriend. Please.”]

Ruin you (ft. kth) by @taegularities (established relationship, fwb; f, a, s) [“Do you really want that so bad?”]

Mature by @jiminrings (angst, fluff, f2l) ["What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.” ]

fifth wish by @jiminrings (a,f, unrequited love (at first)) [“For us to never see each other again.” ]

how long will we fall by @jiminrings (soulmate au, unrequited love (at first), a, f) [“What happens if your soulmate doesn’t want you?” ]

Chasing Cars by @oddinary4bts (brother's best friend, s, a, f) [“You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”]

tolerate it by @back2bluesidex (angst, breakup) [Yes. Yes you are not her. ]

Poison by @back2bluesidex (s, a, unrequited love) [“I pick my poison and it’s you.” ]

and they were roommates (ft. kth) by @hoseok666 (college au, sloooooowburn) [“Hi, new roommate!”]

WINE Series by @hoseoksluna (smut) [“If I were to have a glass of wine with you.. Then, there would be no party to go to.”]

Little Juice (WINE drabble) by @hoseoksluna (smuuuuut) [“You must be thirsty after all that dancing”]

Mutual help by @personasintro (fakedating au, slow burn, a, s, f) ["Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?" ]

Pour up (ft. kth) by @jungkxook (smuuuut) ["Pour up, baby girl.”]

Maid for you (ft kth) by @forgottenpasta (smuuuut, dvp) ["Will you let me clean you up, doll?”]

Just Friends by @kinktae (bf2l , s, f, a) ["You just love to run your mouth, don't you, baby girl?"]

Clandestine by @junghelioseok (f,s, brother's bestfriend) [“I knew you were into me.”]

••••••°

H A P P Y R E A D I N G (~°○°~)

[illegalpaladin]

Ficlet/drabble prompt: Spock asks his parents for advice because he wants to be in a relationship with Jim but doesn't know how to go about it.

Aw man, I LOVE this prompt so much. Sorry it took me a minute! I was really trying to think about how this one would go. I named my word document "Sarek: Romance Expert." I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for sending this in!

Spock was in his room, sitting stiffly in front of his computer with his hands firmly in his lap. On the screen, side by side, were Sarek and Amanda. 

“Spock,” Amanda said with a gentle smile, “it isn’t often that you call. To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

The relationship Spock had with his father had been tense throughout his adulthood. Even after they– to a certain extent– had made amends when Sarek had been aboard the Enterprise, Spock would not classify their relationship as a friendly one. 

Even now, at the word pleasure, Sarek looked like he was trying not to bristle. 

“I have found myself in a situation,” Spock said, selecting his words carefully. “Due to your expertise in the matter, I realized it would be most logical to direct my inquiries to the two of you.” 

“Our expertise?” Amanda’s brow furrowed in confusion. Sarek’s eyebrow twitched. 

“Yes.” Spock wanted to shift, to squirm under Sarek’s gaze. But, as that would be most un-Vulcan, he refrained. He knew the words that were coming next were heavy, but he was unsure precisely how they would hit. “I have found a human that I wish to pursue… Romantically.” 

“Romantically,” Sarek echoed flatly.

“Romantically?” Amanda straightened in her seat. “A Human?” 

“Yes.” Spock’s hands flexed in his lap, tensing and untensing. 

Amanda’s hands steepled in front of her face; her delight was apparent in the way her eyes sparkled. “Oh, Spock– that’s wonderful news!” 

Sarek did not look as enthusiastic. Though, to his benefit, he didn’t look dismayed, either. 

“So,” Amanda’s hands fell back to her sides, and her smile softened again. “You wish to know how to pursue this Human?”

“I am unfamiliar with Human courting customs,” Spock explained, trying to keep the rush from his voice. “And thus I am unsure how to continue.” 

“It is Captain James Kirk that you are interested in?” 

Spock’s gaze shifted to Sarek as he tried– and likely failed– to hide his shock. “Yes,” he managed after a moment. 

“Hm.” Sarek’s brow twitched again, and Spock braced himself for the words of disappointment. He was more than used to disappointment by now. 

Sarek leaned forward. His gaze stayed steady and even, and Spock could see his mouth turned in the slightest frown. 

“My son,” Sarek began. Spock tensed and untensed his toes to keep himself unmoving. “In order to pursue a Human, you must be aware of just how different Human culture as a whole is from Vulcan.” 

Spock blinked back his surprise. Sarek seemed to register this, and his frown deepened minutely. 

“Humans are rash. They are loud with their emotions and with their intentions.” 

Amanda seemed unfazed by this. Spock wasn’t sure if the words were meant to be insulting. 

When Spock didn’t respond, Sarek leaned back and settled back into place. “What I am saying,” he continued with the smallest hint of agitation, “Is that James Kirk’s interest in you is apparent. There is no reason to worry yourself over Human courting customs.”

Spock had to keep his mouth from falling open as the shock of his father’s words hit him. He’d said it so simply, as if it were a fact as clear as day. 

And if he were saying it that way, that must be the case. “I see,” he finally managed. 

“It was the same with the two of us, you know,” Amanda hummed. “When I first met your father, I–” 

“Spock does not have time for such stories,” Sarek interrupted flatly. “He is the First Officer of a starship. Surely he has more important matters to attend to.” 

Spock could barely hear the words. His head was spinning. His mouth moved on its own. “Yes. I do have some tasks that need my attention.” 

“As I suspected. Goodbye, Spock.” 

Amanda sighed and shook her head just slightly. “Good luck, Spock. Not that you need it.” 

And with that, the call ended. 

[starreo]

multi-character drabble.

includes the seven minutes in heaven trope, breeding, words like slut, stupid, dumb, idiot, and adult themes so, mdni.

his cum is already dripping down your shivering legs, hasn't it been past seven minutes anyway?

ah, who cares right now? being bred by this large man, was more important than anything else. his hot cum still being plunged into you as he thrusts in a few more times, for good measure. "a-ah, no! 'm still sensitive-aah!" he scoffed, this time, dragging your waist down to his pelvis as you grabbed the shelf to support you again.

"y'er such a slut, b-being so g-goddamn loud for no reason," he muttered, staring at the mixed orgasm oozing out of your cunt. 'ts your fault! you wanted to say, but all you could do was gasp and whine as he suddenly took his cock out and quickly replaced it with his fingers. his breath shaking as he stuffed his cum back inside of you, was he trying to get you pregnant?

"y'er so dumb, y/n...s-stupid girl." he groaned as you grinded back into him, making his cock slowly stand up again..."wan' you...p-please..."your grip still solid on the shelves. "k-keep g-getting y'erself in t-trouble, mmph-then complain 'bout it, idiot." he whispered, shushing you, as his cock slipped in with ease, your loud whimpers and moans echoing in the little store room.

"your pussy feels so warm 'n, snug, aah-i, jus' wanna be here forever,."

toji, bakugo, nagi, barou, atsumu, eren, wc!kunigami, gojo, uni au!sukuna, suna + your favs <3

© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .

[bejeweledinterludes]

still got the blues.

OR on one quiet night spent in the bunker, you discover that the notorious, god-fearing, big, bad ‘n scary, six-foot badass hunter that is dean friggin’ winchester (aka one of your closest friends) isn’t as tough as he seems.

well.

in bed, at least.

my masterlist

「 pairing 」 : sub ! dean x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 8.8 k. (FAITH BE NORMAL OVER DEAN WINCHESTER CHALLENGE LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

「 content / warnings 」 : MINORS 🤺🤺🤺 GET BACK! AWAY!later seasons sub dean winchester x fem reader (yes i have a problem, no i don’t care thank you!). masterbating, handjob, unprotected sex. yeah this may be the horniest thing i’ve ever written in my life.

you have two ( 2 ) new messages from the author ! ↓

HELLOOOOO THE LONG-AWAITED SUB!DEAN SMUT IS FINALLY HERE 🙂‍↕️🙏‼️ shoutout and thank you to @supernotnatural2005’s drabble / oneshot for the inspo on this one <3 because i think we all want to catch dean like this— which is why i wrote about it!

ALSO @figthoughts’ post from the other day too… yeah idk guys we’re just horny and ovulating connected or something when it comes to mr. jensen ackles and his characters. love you figgy pudding!

𖤐 ─────────────────────────

being on the road with sam and dean for god knows how long now, you’d gotten used to all the sounds each idiot knucklehead brother would make in their sleeping state as you passed their rooms— so much so that it was basically white noise at this point, and you just tune it out.

yeah, tonight was different, though. sam had left much earlier— he and elieen were finally going on a real, live, actual date, much to your joy. which meant you and dean were alone in the bunker together. that doesn’t happen often, but when it does, you usually stay up watching 80s movies and arguing over niche things like whether or not they used real flames in back to the future (they didn’t).

that was yet another reason why tonight was different: you hadn’t seen dean all day, much less tonight. he’d been out doing god knows what— and you barely even heard him come back a few hours ago.

but you didn’t push. actually, you didn’t dare to set foot past dean’s door— taking the long way down the hall to get to the kitchen or the library throughout the evening, secretly hoping he wouldn’t come out of his room or even acknowledge your existence.

because… honestly?

living with two other men?

who the hell were you kidding. you could use a night to yourself.

and not to your knowledge or anything, but so could dean.

no disrespect though, because dean really was wishing you were there— or, rather, he was imagining you with him, which was the only acceptable option at the moment.

…but this was definitely a new low. even for him.

see, while you were actually attempting to be productive with your night, dean was not.

like, at all.

while you were doing your laundry, putting clothes away in your room, watching a show on your laptop with your airpods in— thank god, otherwise this whole thing would blow up in dean’s face…

…for the most part, figuratively.

because dean— and how does one say this without sounding like a complete and total creep?

well, dean was jerkin’ it in his own room.

fappin’.

beatin’ da meat.

whatever the male version was of flickin’ the bean.

oh, and the (best) grossest part?

he was thinking about you while doing it.

yeah, yeah, it’s sick, it’s definitely wrong on so many levels— and it sure as hell feels downright illegal and a sin to be doing it while you’re in the fucking bunker.

it’s the lowest of the low. weird. pathetic.

but then again, dean’s always been a little… pathetic when it comes to you.

don’t let anyone know you know that, though.

so, back to dean being pathetic and horny. he’d been at the bar in town for hours earlier tonight, trying to find someone to satisfy the strain on his pants— and that someone needed to look a whole lot like you to get the job done.

how hard could it be?

well, apparently, in lebanon, kansas, finding a look-alike clone of your best friend so you could fuck them silly?

it’s really goddamn hard.

and so was dean.

so here he was—did i say pathetic already?— jerking off in his bedroom like some horny teenager. he’s on his fourth, maybe fifth time cumming to the thought of purely just you.

that’s right, no porn, no nudie mags, not even a goddamn picture in his free hand— because dean was wound up so freakin’ tight, he didn’t need anything. just his hand and his filthy imagination.

it’s humiliating. dean’s literally bucking his hips up into his hand as of right now, imagining it’s yours and not his— all while letting out these little noises that do not sound like they’d be coming from a six-foot, tough as nails hunter. but they are.

and they’re all for you.

dean winchester does not whimper. hell, no. but the broken sound that rips from his throat, tossing his head back on his pillow after he tugs a little too hard on himself was anything but.

and maybe dean should be making less noise— but he knew you so well, too well— you’d have your airpods on noise canceling, anyway. and he can’t even think about if you didn’t. he’s too wrapped up in a haze right now. he’s so distracted. by-god intoxicated.

because dean’s imagining you after that one hunt in virginia. yeah. the moon had been out that night, and god, the way it hit you— a combination of this deep blue and silver and it just lit up your skin, illuminating you like you were one of those ancient goddesses, like the ones he’s only read about in old myths and legends when he’d been so bored he actually did research in the library.

dean’s imagining you, just you, right there with him, and it was your hand, not his. imagining you pulling those sounds from his throat while he’s breathing so heavy, his chest heaving up and down. and the sheets covering only his bottom half were shifting with him as he was moving what seemed like his entire bed along with him as of now.

dean was trying to be quiet.

but his body was not letting him.

and poor you— oh, sweet, innocent you. because as far as dean knew, you were completely oblivious to what was currently occurring in his bedroom at the moment.

but what dean didn’t know was that your airpods had died over an hour ago.

and you’d made the mistake of not taking the long way back to your room this time, thinking that dean had gone to bed due to the late hour.

you had stopped in your tracks in the hall coming back from the kitchen— because you heard dean. heard his little broken groans, damn close to whimpers.

and you genuinely believed that dean was just having a nightmare at first— because hell, with the shit you guys encountered on the daily, it wasn’t uncommon for any of y’all to make a goddamn racket in your sleep.

drawing that conclusion— because it was the only one that was realistic, you start towards your room again, already starting to tune out dean’s weird-as-hell noises.

but before you even take two more steps past dean’s room, you hear something else— a little muffled through the door, but clear as day. because it sends a jolt straight through you.

your name.

he’s having a nightmare, you remind yourself. he could be just calling out to you in that sense, because that would be logical. but then he says your name again. and again.

and it’s just your name.

not sam’s.

not cas’.

just. yours.

and dean sounds like a man possessed at this point. his eyes are squeezed shut, as if he’s trying to banish the image of you from his mind.

but he can’t. and he never would.

he just can’t do it. can’t keep himself in check anymore.

so that’s why dean groans your name at the next motion of his hand on his dick— saying it for the fourth time since you’ve been stopped outside his door.

and it wasn’t a ‘i’m-in-so-much-pain-and-scared’ groan, the kind when someone has a nightmare— no, dean’s groan sounded like a ‘oh-that-feels-so-fuckin-good’ groan, like the kind someone makes when…

oh.

oh.

and dean knows he sounds pretty close to, if not completely pathetic. not at all like the good ol’ badass hunter of lore, not that you’d believed him to be. you’d think he’d sound more in control, or at least not whimpering.

dean’s battled both heaven and hell. purgatory. angels, demons, monsters, even sometimes, just people, you name it— he’s fought it and kicked its freakin’ ass, even god himself.

and his one fault? his only weakness?

you.

it’s always been just you. your stupid pretty face. the way you laughed at his jokes, even when they weren’t that funny. the way you stood by him and his brother’s side— and in the hunting world, associating with the winchesters meant a death sentence. you didn’t care, though. you never did. it was in the way you were always there, especially when it counted.

and here he was.

jerking off and thinking about you.

this had to be rock bottom. right? if not that, purely a whole new level of scumbag. even if you couldn’t hear him.

oh, but you could. and you’re lingering outside dean’s door— because you didn’t even have to put your ear on it to hear the noises he was making, clear as day.

dean feels like he’s drunk, delirious. this always happened whenever he fantasized about you. a pathetic, groaning and whimpering mess. hell, in this state, he’d damn well beg.

and oh, he was.

“fuckin’— please— god, i need you, please—”

damn, you could almost see it— dean’s hand, hidden by the dark of his room, but the way the sheets move makes it obvious just where his hand is. and it’s a blur.

yeah. there was no more holding out, no more being strong. not now.

because dean feels like he’s on the edge of his own personal hell.

and you? you’re stuck.

dean was… well, fucking doing that. and you’re just… stuck. you would have just kept walking past his door, putting your pillow between your ears and teasing him about it tomorrow morning.

because instead crying or groaning out the name of some random girl or even farah fawcett— dean was currently begging.

for you.

and you’re still stuck. dean feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind. he’s gonna cum again, he knows it. he also knows he should be quiet, but the words and your name just keep spilling out of his mouth, and he’s too far gone to stop them.

“ah— fuck. please. please, please, goddamn it, i need you, i need you, i need you…”

yeah, dean’s brain’s not in charge anymore. honestly? it hasn’t been since he met you all those years ago— with your stupid pretty hair, and your stupid pretty mouth, and the stupid soft sounds you make in your sleep that drove him insane whenever you used to share a motel room.

dean needs you.

and you needed a fucking cold-ass shower.

because the way dean was sounding right now? he only sounded like that in your dreams. your deepest, darkest fantasies. it was making your knees buckle.

yeah. there’s absolutely no way any of this was real. this was straight out of a porno. this had to be the trickster’s doing, or something.

because the real dean didn’t act like this. and yet, here he was. and here you were, your stomach flipping each time a sound leaves dean’s mouth and bounces off the wooden door that was still splitting you two apart.

and right then and there, you wished you had the balls to just open it.

because you wanted to be right there next to dean, pulling those noises out of him yourself.

“need you—need you right there, need you, right, right, oh, god, there—”

even in dean’s own fantasies, the ones that drove him to insanity like right now, he’d always thought about this. you actually being there, him actually saying all this to you.

dean would’ve given anything, then. anything. just to have you right next to him in his bed.

yeah, well, you’re still just stuck.

because what the fuck do you do.

do you walk back to your room? pretend you didn’t notice? pretend it never happened? not listen to the sounds dean was making?

or, do you open the door? go in his room and just show dean how you’d really felt about him— for years now?

and lately, it seemed like you all you could think and dream about was being in the same bed with dean, touching every part of him.

because if you were in there right now, you’d touch dean’s skin that you yourself had deemed forbidden, because it’d be seen as crossing a line, breaking a boundary.

hello? reality check, anyone?

come on. dean was your friend.

but the noises he was making in your name— because of you? that was anything but.

yeah. if you were in there, you’d start with your hands on dean’s chest, going lower, and lower, until he started making the sounds he was making now, gasping and begging right in your ear for you, not stopping until he completely just—

yeah, that was it.

you knew your answer.

and dean needs exactly what you’re about to do. because god, he’s thought about it. in the dead of night, when he was alone, or when you’d been just out of reach sitting next to him in a dive bar, he’s wanted this. wanted you.

dean wanted to know the way your hands would feel against his skin, how your body would feel against his own. he’s thought about it. hell, he’d dreamed about it. fantasized— just like he was doing now.

and dean was still fantasizing when you throw away every single rational thought you had at the moment and manage to open his door without making a noise— thank you, hunter skills.

this was crazy. right?

eh. you’ve done crazier.

no. not like this.

and not with dean.

but still, you managed to cross the threshold of dean’s room— and you even sit down on the edge of his bed.

okay, the more you thought about it…was this awkward?

maybe.

oh, but dean doesn’t even notice you— his eyes were screwed tightly shut, mouth parted and huffing out pants and broken noises as one of his hands continues to move fervently. his hips are wild, bucking into his hand— and his body is shaking his entire bed frame.

dean’s too far gone to notice anything, lost in a fantasy that’s been haunting him for longer than he’s willing to admit out loud. the only thing that could even remotely stop him would be—

hold on.

dean’s hit by a familiar scent— the one he’d been imagining this whole time. but that really does smell like— and its now so close, so real, it practically envelopes him. and his eyes open to—

you.

right there. in his bed. within reach. looking at him like he’s always wanted you to look at him.

and there’s no disgust or anger on your face as you look down at dean, still frozen in place. no, just a hint of amusement, mixed with something else—

something dangerously close to pure want.

you don’t say anything, even though you know you should by now. because now dean knew that you knew exactly what he’d just been doing— more importantly, you were now aware of who the focus of it all was.

and goddamn if the look on your face doesn’t have dean pausing, too. he’s never seen it on your face before. and it’s too dark in his room for him to really make it out, but he thinks he sees—

you weren’t disgusted. you weren’t grossed out, or even angry.

you’re just… looking at him like the fantasy he’s been chasing isn’t a goddamn fantasy anymore— but instead something he could reach out and touch. feel.

dean has to swallow whatever excuse he could come up with to talk himself out of what you’d just walked in on. what you’d just heard. and his mouth is dry.

a part of you wants to pounce onto dean right now. to kiss him silly, touch him everywhere and make him gasp your name again— only with you being the sole instigator this time.

but the annoying other part of you halted that urge.

and why?

because of your stupid morals.

your goddamned feelings.

and you had to ask dean, had to know— even if the answer hurt you.

“how long?”

dean’s brain almost completely flatlines for a long moment. though, he knows what you’re insinuating, of course.

how long dean has been thinking about you in that way? how long and hard had he fantasized about his hands on your body, his mouth on your skin, and his dick buried so deep inside you, he gets hand cramps almost every night he’s alone?

yeah. it scares him, just how goddamn long it’s been.

“…years.”

that was all you needed. in reality, you don’t actually pounce or anything, but you do move closer to dean on his bed, tossing one leg over both of his to straddle his lap before meeting his gaze again.

“you have no idea,” your voice is barely above a whisper to dean as you keep his gaze, making yourself comfortable in his lap. “how much i wanted to hear that.”

and dean can’t help the groan he lets out, at feeling your weight, your body, straddling his lap. he’s spent too many nights dreaming of exactly this. his hands automatically go to your hips, as if they’re on autopilot.

because he’s not in charge anymore.

and honestly?

he doesn’t think he ever was when it came to you.

and a small smile tugs on your lips when you feel dean’s hands on your hips— your own fingers start to trail from his wrists and up his arms, your pace slow, but deliberate.

because you were going to memorize every inch of dean that you could.

oh, dean’s just barely managing to keep his hips still, to not buck up underneath you. he can feel you, now that you’re straddling him, the heat there, where he’d wanted to feel you for so, so long.

and when your fingers trail up his arms, dean shudders. because it’s so gentle, tender. he can’t remember the last time anyone touched him this way, if at all.

your hands eventually reach dean’s face. oh, his gorgeous face. you cup both sides, taking in everything: those green eyes of his, the freckles you could see only if you were up close dusting on his nose and cheeks—his features were illuminated only by the dim light of his desk lamp, but you could see so much because of how close you both were now.

the slight smile is still on your lips as you look at dean— because you were still a little sure you were going to wake up at some point.

but this wasn’t a dream, you had to remind myself. dean was under you. he wanted you, in the same way you’d wanted him for as long as you can remember.

and dean feels like he can’t breathe properly. he’s been slapped, punched, cut, beaten, tortured, everything violent under the sun done to his face— but no one’s had their hands on it like this.

he feels too exposed, too vulnerable, but he doesn’t move.

because it’s you. it could only ever be you.

dean keeps his gaze locked to yours, even as he has to stop himself from just completely melting into the palms of your hands on his face. he wants to look at you for forever, keep you just like this— and his expression is so open, so bare.

your thumbs gently graze across both of dean’s cheeks as you hold his face in your hands.

and you can’t look away.

so you don’t.

but you do lean a fraction closer to dean in his lap, breaking the silence in a hushed whisper— because there goes your stupid doubts and feelings, again.

“you want this?”

even though he almost wants to, dean can’t laugh. not when he knows you’re being serious. it kills him, a little— that you’re still doubting it.

because how could he not want this? you?

“god, yes.” dean’s not even sure if he says that out loud, or just thinks it— but he’s nodding regardless, and with the movement bringing his face even closer to yours.

and your gaze softens almost completely when dean says that— but there’s one doubt that sticks, even when his words wash all the others away from your mind. the one that’s been there almost the entire time you’ve known him.

“de, i…” you don’t take your hands off of dean’s face when you try to speak again— but the words die in your throat. you swallow a little, averting your gaze.

and god, when dean hears you hesitate, he’s already on edge.

dean doesn’t know what you’re about to say,— all he’s aware of is that you’re now looking away from him. and he can’t have that, so he brings his hand (non-jerking, of course) to your chin, gently but firmly, forcing you to look at him again.

he tries to keep his voice even, but he can’t.

“tell me.”

you’re forced to keep dean’s gaze when his hand touches your face— and his fingers are so warm, you almost lose your train of thought completely.

you’ve wanted dean for so long— but you had to make sure he fully felt the same way you did.

not just lust. not something to walk past awkwardly the next day.

“i— i can’t do this… just for tonight,” you swallow hard again, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flick between dean’s. “but i… i think you know that.”

even with the worry that had been coursing through his veins, dean couldn’t help but be impressed at the fact you think there’s a chance in hell he’d be able to have you once and just… let you go afterwards. his hand on your chin drops a fraction, resting on the side of your throat instead. he swallows, then finds his voice.

“i know.”

your gaze softens a little— and it’s a little embarrassing how much weight felt completely lifted off your chest when dean says that.

you had denied your feelings for dean for years now. and now knowing that he felt the same way, it was getting harder and harder to control the urge to just do what you wanted.

“well, good,” you bring your hands to tilt dean’s head up more to you as you’re in his lap, eyes flicking down to his lips— because you so needed to know what they felt like. “that’s— that’s good.”

and damn, if dean isn’t already struggling. nothing’s even happened yet, and he’s trying his best just to keep still, to resist all his natural impulses and desires to just grab you and never, ever let you go. when your eyes flick down to his lips, his follow suit almost instantly. his voice is almost a damn croak when he responds.

“yeah?”

all your senses were filled with just dean. and you needed more. you’d denied your feelings for far too long— years now, in fear of him not reciprocating. but you couldn’t deny your feelings or your urges anymore.

“yeah,” you echo back in an exhale, your thumbs grazing on dean’s cheeks. your gaze is still on his lips, but you look back up at him. “you— you’re all i’ve ever wanted.”

hot damn.

dean feels like he’s going to wake up at any second at those words that just came out of your mouth. because he never dared to let himself hope that you could feel the same way he did. and it’s been so, so goddamn long of wanting you with every fiber of his being, wanting to touch you and hold you and never, ever let you go.

oh, he’s too far gone to even feel sheepish about how he’s almost shaking now, hands trembling and breath coming fast as he’s barely keeping the reins on his self-control.

dean’s trembling sends a shiver down your spine. even after you just said all that, he still wanted this.

you might die.

or you were already in some version of heaven that jack made up.

because dean wanted you.

“just lemme kiss you,” dean would be embarrassed of how desperate and out of breath he sounded if he could give two damns. he says your name again: “please—”

dean can’t even think straight anymore. yet, never could when it came to you. his hands go to your thighs, gripping tight like it’s all he can do to resist the urge to just flip you over right that moment.

you can’t hold back anymore.

neither can he.

so you don’t.

you close the final distance between you both, taking his mouth in a kiss that’s hard, desperate and full of years’ worth of emotion.

and dean’s lips felt like home. and that’s a weird thing to say, but it was true. you’d never kissed him before this, but it really was him that you’d been missing all this time.

your hands on dean’s face trail into his hair, and you could feel yourself completely melting into him when you pull myself closer to him in his lap, hips fully slotting with his own— and you both groan a little at the feeling.

dean kisses you like a goddamn starving man, his hands gripping at your thighs so hard he’s afraid he’s leaving marks. but he can’t bring himself to care, because he’s finally kissing you. finally having you in the way he’s only dreamt of.

dean hasn’t been touched— kissed like this, ever.

like he’s something precious. to be loved. it makes him feel weak. but he can’t really bring himself to care about that, either.

all you could think about was how good dean smelled. and as his lips danced with yours, he even tasted good. like whiskey and something you couldn’t place— but it sure as hell was definitely dean.

and god, it’s perfect. dean’s trying to swallow the little noises his mouth is threatening to make again as you kiss him back, kissing him like you feel the same— he thinks he’s losing his mind for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

dean’s grip on your thighs tightens even more. he couldn’t help it anymore— he rocks you against his lap, his hips bucking up against yours in an involuntary but much needed movement. and a little sound pretty close to a whimper does escape him this time, hitting your lips as you grind your own hips down onto him.

you had to break your lips from dean’s to get stupid air, but your forehead rests against his as one of your hands unlatches itself from his hair, trailing downward on the fabric of his henley as you’re in his lap.

and you’d tease him about the noises he’s making— if it wasn’t leaving your underwear a complete and sopping mess because of it.

dean’s mind is hazy, lost in the feel of you against him and in his lap, his mind trying to keep up with all the things happening.

he’s a hunter, goddamn it.

he needs to get a freakin’ grip.

but he can’t.

because of the way your kiss felt like a drug. the way you’re so close he can feel your breathing, and the way you’re grinding up against him like you mean it—

and then dean feels your hand on his shirt, sliding further down past his stomach, and he feels like he’s about to go insane. he’s hallucinating, under some sort of spell that shows you what you’ve always desired. that’s the only plausible explanation.

but this was real. oh, so real.

dean’s hands were still holding on for dear life on your thighs, but your own was still going farther and farther down the fabric of the henley he was wearing, stopping at the hem and tugging on it, talking against his lips—

“put your arms up f’me, dean.”

goddamn, if that doesn’t make him literally shiver when you say his name like that, all breathless and pretty.

and dean follows the instruction, raising his arms and letting you pull the shirt over his head, revealing his the skin underneath.

he’s not even embarrassed of his scars, the marks on his body from over the years. not with you. the uneven skin told their own tales he wouldn’t dare open his mouth about, even after three whiskeys deep.

you discard dean’s shirt somewhere in his room without another thought when he lifts his arms up.

you’ve actually only seen dean shirtless twice— once after a hunt, and if you count that one time when that motel room with shitty air conditioning that got too hot last summer. you kept your eyes glued to the lore in front of you then, not daring to look.

this time, however, you couldn’t look away.

not even if you tried.

your lips are parted in what could only be described as pure awe while your eyes and fingers rake over every inch of new skin revealed while still in dean’s lap. first trailing a path up his exposed arms as your eyes continue to drink in all the details of him you’d never thought you’d see.

dean has never, ever been looked at the way you’re looking at him right now.

your fingers continue to trail up dean’s arms, fingertips grazing on the scars you could see in the dim light of his room. you actually knew some of them— having been there when he sustained the wound that made the scar, but a lot were new to you.

and you wanted to memorize it all.

it’s almost embarrassing how he feels like something to be worshipped under your touch. like someone to be taken care of. to be cherished.

as your fingers trail up his arms, he has to bite down on a whine in the back of his throat— forcing himself to keep still under your gaze as you rake your gaze over him. his voice is rough and hoarse when he manages to speak, but all he could get out was your name.

your hands found themselves resting dean’s shoulders while you take in the breathtaking view that is him under you, meeting his gaze when he says your name, voice just as quiet as his.

“yeah, de?”

your touch feels like dean took the jumper cables he had in the back of baby and put it against his skin. but it’s so soft, so gentle. it’s also making his whole body ache, yet he just wants more. and he can’t keep his eyes off you, either. the way you’re looking at him, at his scars like they’re nothing to be ashamed about… it’s almost safe.

dean swallows, hands coming to rest on your waist now that he’s topless. his voice sounds wrecked, broken.

because he’s begging.

“touch me.”

dean’s hands on your waist were making your heart beat all out of rhythm— and you almost completely lose your train of thought looking into his green eyes, wide and blown out.

for you.

you just nod at dean’s words— and your fingers continue their journey downward from dean’s shoulders, trailing over his skin until you eventually reach the waistband of his boxers, and you keep your hands there on the fabric when you look back up at him.

because you still needed to know:

“can i take these off?”

oh, for the love of—

dean nods rapidly before you’re even done asking, because he’d do anything, anything, to have you touch him like he had been not just a few minutes earlier— in fact, he’s already lifting his hips off the bed to make it easier for you, because he’s not about to hesitate. he needs you. he’s needed you for too goddamn long.

and when you manage to pull off dean’s boxers, discarding them in one fell swoop after he confirms and lifts his hips for you, your eyes widen at the sight of him completely exposed beneath you on his bed— and a quiet ‘jesus christ’ escapes from your lips before you can stop it.

and your reaction makes dean’s breath hitch. because it’s not a disgusted one— it’s the exact opposite. he feels vulnerable like this, exposed to you in a way he’s never been to anyone else. he should feel embarrassed. but he doesn’t, oddly enough.

his voice is so goddamn quiet when he bites down on another whine.

“please.”

and you just nod again. then both your hands find dean’s chest once more— and you start trailing a path down his lower torso with your fingers.

dean can’t help the way he lets out a strangled moan at your touch against his bare skin. with no clothing in the way to block it, he’s so much more sensitive. every single touch makes his breath hitch, his head spinning with how perfect it feels.

it’s too much.

and yet, he needs more.

dean’s hands find your hips again, gripping, trying to get you even an inch closer to him.

and as your fingers get lower and lower on dean’s stomach, you hesitate your hands. not because you weren’t sure— but it felt… well, wrong not to at least ask him for permission first.

so you look back up and meet dean’s gaze, eyes searching his again as you whisper, shifting closer to him in his lap.

“can i go lower?”

and at your question, a sharp shiver wracks through dean’s whole body— he’s half convinced he’s going to to just cum right there, even if you don’t end up touching him.

dean’s practically trembling under you now, hands gripping tighter on your hips. he tries to speak again, to say something— but his voice comes out in a strangled moan.

all he can do is nod against his headboard.

a soft exhale escapes you when dean confirms. you nod— and don’t hesitate again.

not when he was like this.

you take all of him in one of your hands— but you don’t even try to look away from his face while you do so. because you had to see his face for this.

and dean feels like the air’s getting ripped from his lungs at how good your touch feels. he’s never felt anything like this before. it could be the fact that he hasn’t had actual sex in a while (apparently, he’s considered old now), or purely just because of you.

yeah, but dean’s never been touched like this before. so goddamn gentle. but it’s still perfect. his eyes are still locked to yours, and his expression looks pained. it’s all too much, after wanting this for so long.

and all he can do is whisper your name before your hand starts to move.

you start starts slow— not too slow, though, because dean had already fucked his palm tonight more times tonight than he’d like to admit.

dean’s eyes actually flutter shut for a moment when your hand starts to move, a moan catching in the back of his throat. because it’s barely even started, and it’s so good. too good.

dean’s hands on your waist are close to shaking now, but he has to speak— even as it comes out in a hoarse croak.

because he needs—

“more. jesus, i need—”

you don’t even entertain the thought to tease dean or not do as he asked— because the sounds he was desperately trying to keep in were making you want to keep going, to not stop.

so you don’t stop. your hand speeds up, going back and forth on dean’s dick— and your gaze still doesn’t leave his while in his lap, touching him in the way you’ve always wanted to for so long.

and when you pick up the pace, dean’s breath hitches even more— god, it’s so good, but he still needs more. his hands are shaking as they grip tight on your waist, and his eyes somehow keep your gaze, even as his head feels like it’s spinning right into his headboard.

dean manages to get out his next request, in a begging whisper of a breath. he’d be ashamed if he wasn’t so desperate.

“please— please, i need—”

“its alright,” you nod before he can finish this time, leaning your head and pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i gotcha, de.”

and that’s it. you say those words and dean feels like he could cum right there. he’s already so close, just from your touch, the way your hand’s moving so beautifully up and down on his dick. the way you’re looking at him. he tries to keep his eyes open, too— to keep looking at you, but everything you’re giving him is starting to overwhelm him, he can hardly even breathe anymore.

dean glances down at your hand between both of you— big mistake, because the sight of your fingers around his dick and covered in him makes him let out strangled whimper. he bites down on his lip hard, his head falling back against the headboard and his eyes screwing shut. because it’s embarrassing how close he is to cumming in your hand.

you notice, of course— your hand doesn’t let up, but your other hand on dean’s shoulder goes to the side of his face, thumb grazing on his cheek. it’s a stark contrast to what you’re doing to his dick.

“de, its okay,” you reassure dean as his breaths become more and more unsteady, eyes flicking over his face. “you can let go if you wanna.”

and that’s it. that’s all it takes.

as soon you give him permission, dean’s gone.

his body suddenly goes rigid, then he’s bucking his hips into your hand so erratically and sloppily you would’ve been knocked from your position on dean’s lap if he hadn’t buried his face in your still clothed chest, tightened his arms fully around you and pulled you closer to him. he cums loud and hard, a mixture of soft groans, whimpers, swears and pants of your name spilling into the fabric of your shirt.

you’d never heard him like this before, ever.

but dean winchester— the man, the myth, the hunter god, was whimpering as you’re in his lap.

for you.

because of you.

and because it’s all too damn much— the way your hand feels, the touch of your thumb against his face, the look in your eyes when you said that it’s okay for him to let go of the tight rein he’s been holding onto for so long.

dean can feel himself shaking and still coming apart under you as you guide him through it, his face buried in your shoulder as you pull every last bit of pleasure out of him that he has with your fingers. he’s never felt so goddamn free before. he’s never come apart, not like this— not completely exposed like this.

dean’s hands are still shaking as they rest your waist, his entire body almost trembling with it being still so overwhelming. but it was perfect. and he needs to say that, to tell you that it was everything he’d ever wanted—

“please— please, just kiss me.”

and that comes out of dean’s mouth instead. you’d barely started to wipe your hand when the words spill out in a plea— a beg into your shirt. you’re a little surprised that was the first thing he said post-orgasm.

but still, you lean back just enough after dean says that, bringing your free hand to the side of his face while still in his lap, your gaze flicking between his in the dark of his room for just a moment before you lean back in, pressing your lips onto his again.

dean doesn’t hold back now. he doesn’t care about the mess he just made, the way he sounded, or the fact that he begged you to kiss him after you just made him cum.

he kisses you like a starved man, like the air he was breathing needed to come from your mouth and not any other source. his hands move to the back of your hips, gripping your shirt tight and pulling you even closer to him on his lap, now that your hand wasn’t between you both anymore.

dean tears his lips off of yours— and he is still just barely coming back to himself. his brain still hazy from pleasure, from you, but he tries to get out words because he needs to tell you how much he still wants, needs you. his hands grip tight on your hips, like he’s afraid you’ll just get up and leave if he lets go. his voice is still wrecked when he only manages to whisper your name again.

you don’t move out from dean’s lap, though. you stay pressed against him, his skin so warm and flushed against your own. neither of you had to say anything to know how intimate this all was. dean should be attempting to at least do something besides burying his face back in your shirt.

but you don’t let dean stay like that for too long. your hands go to the sides of his face, holding his head as you tilt it back to look up at you, searching his gaze as you continue to straddle him. and your own voice is a whisper, too.

“y’okay?”

and god, dean feels like his entire body’s just come apart again at that single word, because how do you answer a question like that.

dean has to take a breath, because he still feels the aftermath of it. everywhere. he nods, once— because he’s better than even alright. then again, because he has to tell you that, too.

“yeah,” he manages to get that out, and it’s still so damn wrecked, so out of breath. “more than okay.”

“okay, good,” your gaze softens and you nod when dean confirms that he was okay— and your other now-clean hand finds the side of his face when he looks up at you. a small smile tugs on your lips as your thumbs graze on his cheek. “just checkin’.”

dean’s blown-out eyes are still locked to yours as you brush your thumb against his skin, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of feeling you touch him like this.

it’s so tender. so soft.

and dean’s just… lost. in you.

but dean does finally manage to speak again, his voice still hoarse as his hands release from your hips start to trail down, calloused fingers rubbing gently on your exposed thighs and saying your name like a prayer. “god, i need—”

you keep dean’s gaze still— but not before glancing down to see his hands on your bare thighs in his dimly-lit bedroom as you straddle him.

dean’s hands looked like they belonged on you.

felt like it, too.

one of your own hands reaches down from dean’s face to his on your thigh, grasping on his fingers with yours.

“tell me what you need,” your voice is still a hush of a whisper, but remains completely and utterly genuine as you search dean’s gaze. “de, tell me what you need me to do, and i’ll do it.”

holy goddamn.

dean’s breath actually stutters a little at that, because you sound so ready, so willing— he can’t help but let those last three years of pining, of wanting you, of hoping show as he looks up at you.

“ride me. please.”

the words come out in a half-choked plea. dean’s so damn desperate for you, he’d beg. hell, he was begging in the darkness.

and you weren’t about to say no.

your hands take themselves off of dean’s face and hand, lifting your leg to discard your sleep shorts, then your (soaked) undies— then going to the shirt that you’d still been wearing, grabbing the hem of it and tearing it off, discarding it somewhere in his room before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

and when that finally comes off, too, dean’s entire damn body tenses. because he felt like the air had just been ripped from his lungs.

again.

he’s seeing you more exposed to him, for him than he’s ever seen you before— and the sight of you like this is goddamn perfect. you’re so perfect.

dean’s hands tighten on your thighs, his eyes taking in the view of you like a man starved.

“holy—”

there’s a thousand words he has for you right now. things like beautiful, perfect, mine. but he can’t get them out yet. because his brain is still trying to catch up from the fact that you’re actually here and naked in his lap.

both of dean’s hands reach for your hips as he’s still staring up at you in awe, his fingers gently but almost greedily gripping on you— because he wants to touch you so bad that he wants to let out a goddamn sob. because no one has ever felt like this for him.

because no one has ever come close to the way he craved you.

your eyes meet back up to dean’s green ones once again. you didn’t have to tell him anything or even say something else.

so that’s why you just nod, then reach down between you both once more, starting to fully sink yourself on dean’s dick— all while still keeping his gaze while you let your hands rest on his shoulders, a exhale escaping you both.

you not even halfway on his dick, and dean thinks he might bust again right then and there. his fingers dig into your hip, all while a groan escapes his parted lips: “ah, shit—”

and oh, he’s big. it takes you a second, but you sink down completely on top of him, your pussy sucking him all up— dean feels like he can’t breathe. again. the sight of you like this is gonna fuel his jerk off sessions for the rest of his goddamn life.

dean’s not sure if it’s possible, but he uses his hands on your hips to gently just pull you even closer against him— which ended up being a mistake, because you involuntarily clench around him. his head drops in between your tits at the action.

and.

he.

whines.

“f— fuck—”

yeah. dean just whined at the feeling of being inside of you, eyes screwed shut and everything as he buries his face deeper between your breasts— you can feel the pant of air and his lips on your skin.

dean’s fingers lace together with yours fully, holding your hand tightly while his other is still gripping tight on the meat of your hip, finally taking his face off of you to look up at you above him.

and oh. you’re a goddess, at least. not something heavenly though, because angels are dicks— but you look unreal as you look back down at dean, your mouth just a little parted from feeling him.

dean twitches a little inside you as he tries to find words, just a few, to tell you how much he wants this— or at least to tell you to move.

all he can get out, though?

“p— please.”

you don’t have to ask for clarification.

you know what dean’s asking for.

so you give it to him.

you grind your hips—and dean whines a little again at that— down onto his just once, testing the waters before you find a rhythm.

and dean feels his entire brain just go on complete and total motherfucking overdrive. because this is it. he’s finally getting the most intimate part of you, the part he’s been wanting for so damn long— he literally can’t see straight anymore. that’s how good it feels. how good you feel.

dean’s head goes in between your tits again, still holding your hand as you move your hips on top on him, grinding down on his dick. his other arm goes around your waist, pressing himself against you and gripping you tight in an attempt to steady himself— but it barely helps. his eyes screw shut again, and he’s letting out another whimper before he can stop it.

“fff— oh, fuck—”

a moan drops from your mouth, too, but it’s nothing compared to the sounds dean’s making, gasping and groaning into your skin as he fucks up into you, meeting your movements. his dick is brushing on that spot that makes you groan— and kickstarts your urge to go faster.

so you do.

dean can’t control anything right now. his hips are bucking up into you erratically, the movements only being stunted a little due to how strong your thighs were around him as you straddle him.

your hand not holding dean’s goes into his hair as you’re both pressed together for a better grip— and dean almost sees stars. he groans a little again, his breaths coming in hard pants on the skin between your breasts.

and the praise falls from your lips onto dean’s ear before you can stop it—

“you’re doin’ so good, de.”

dean feels like he’s gonna cry. just from how perfectly good you feel on top of him— and he’s making the most delicious noises that sound like words but it’s just broken moans mixed with whimpers. his hand on your hip tightens to the point it’s almost painful, but you don’t mind all that much.

“ah, don’ worry, i gotcha,” you whisper against dean’s ear again, your hand tightening on his as you let out a rough exhale, chest heaving rapidly against his as your movements don’t falter once. “you’re doing so good f’me, dean.”

dean’s not in control of the sounds that come out his damn mouth anymore— the praise goes straight to his dick, straight to the familiar burning building low in his tummy. it’s just all swearing, sounds of your name and incoherent begging being said into your skin.

“ah— shit, fuckin’— please—”

dean’s not even trying to stop the words from rushing out of his mouth right now, even if he sounds pathetic. because it all feels so goddamn good, and he’s being so good— for you.

and dean can feel nothing but you right now, in every sense possible. everything else has been long gone, and he’s been so goddamn wrapped up in how good your pussy feels around his dick.

dean gasps for air, because wants to tell you that you’ve ruined every living thing for him in the entire goddamn universe forever.

he wants to tell you that he’s about to cum— again.

“jesusfuckin’christ— oh, please—” is what comes out of him instead.

the words are barely intelligible, and dean’s whole body is starting to tense underneath you as he manages to choke out a ragged cry of your name. your hand is still gripping hard onto his own, the other burying itself deeper his hair. you needed to hold onto him right now. shit, you needed a sec.

because dean winchester was begging to cum inside of you.

you almost stop grinding down on him for a second— the keyword being almost.

you just nod against dean’s head still buried in your tits, holding him against you as you talk into his ear again.

“go ahead, baby.”

dean almost sobs again when you say that. he lets go completely just as before, his hands’ grips becoming painful on you as his whole body shakes and convulses against yours, the movements of his hips becoming so erratic once more as he’s painting your walls with his… sixth? seventh? load of the night— only this time, it’s inside of you. and he’s making every sound in the book: whimpers, groans, a whine here and there, too.

you came, too— but honestly, if you didn’t, you would’ve been fine either way. seeing and hearing dean come apart like this was enough to last you a lifetime.

you don’t know how long dean and you stay like that, pressed into each other and panting, fluids mixed together, spilling out and sticking all over your thighs— but even as you pull back just enough to look down at him, dean’s still trembling under you, long after both your orgasms had surpassed their high, melting into a thick haze between you two.

dean can’t look at you— or won’t, but either way, your hand in his hair trails to the side of his face, and you gently force him to look up at you.

dean swallows hard, and his face flushes. the embarrassment was finally, finally starting to set in now that he’d fucked you and himself out. he braces himself for the teasing, the jokes— and the look on your face.

but you weren’t looking down at dean like he was pathetic, or weak. you never did— and you sure as hell weren’t about to start now, after he’d just shown you every side you’d wanted to see of him.

no, you just smile a little, eyes flicking between dean’s as your thumb grazes on his cheek. he can’t help but lean his head into your palm as you exhale your next words out in a breath—

“that was really fuckin’ hot.”

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you now have two ( 2 ) new messages from the author ! ↓

heyyyyyyy guys… soooo how we doin’? LMFAOOOOOOOO this has got to be the longest i’ve ever spent on a fic (only for dean wbk!)

and i know i said this last time, but on a real note: if you have stayed to the very end— first, THANK YOU FOR READING! and second, if you enjoyed, please consider SHOWING ME THAT ( reblogs / comments / etc ) because this took me FOREVER to write (again). i would love to know if my efforts are worthwhile!

my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde @vmiina + i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3