#and he is just. he is so cool. he is so nice. i love my family dearly but my brothers i think are really the people i am the most comfot

[thehmn]

Random rant.

I was telling my mom about yet another random middle aged guy who insisted on me paying attention to him (you know the type who gets super angry if you don’t respond to them saying hi or whatever, either because you didn’t hear them or didn’t know they were talking to you, instead of just letting it go like a normal person) and I was like “I’m sorry but it’s always guys your age”

I expected her to defend her fellow man but instead she responded “Oh my god yes. They’re the WORST”

Talk about Karen’s all you like but no group of people are more entitled than middle aged men. I hope it’s just those generations because I never experience it with guys my age and younger. But we’ll see in a few years. I’m close to middle aged myself and perhaps people just lose their fucking mind at a certain age.

Best part of being a cleaner is that if I don’t respond to those types of guys at work they just assume I don’t understand what they’re saying. I can hear them get all worked up at which point I start to ignore them out of spite and eventually I’ll hear someone say “She’s probably an immigrant” and they cool off. Yeah buddy, that’s the only explanation. It couldn’t possibly be because I don’t want to talk to you because you’re acting like an entitled dick.

At this point I’ve made it my mission in life to piss those guys off. I always pick up after my dogs but more than once some middle aged guy started ordering me to pick up as I was getting the bags out. I love the look on their face when I call them shit-sheriff and curse them out for thinking they can boss random adults around like that. And they never have a comeback because they never expected anyone to challenge them. I had a shouting match with one older guy who tried to push me over while I was riding my bike slowly past him because he felt I was trying to run him over for some reason but it ended real fast when I told him to fuck back to his retirement home because they forget they don’t get my respect for free. Same if you call them ugly. They have no idea how to respond to that because they never had to worry about their looks before.

So to anyone reading this, just be cool if people don’t respond to you and don’t act like you can order random strangers around. Niceness will get you anywhere with strangers (unless they’re assholes themselves)

[luveline]

Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻

quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k

Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours. 

You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm. 

“Don’t get too hot!” you call. 

“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout. 

“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.” 

Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly. 

“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?” 

“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her. 

Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same. 

Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time. 

The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine. 

“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.

“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze. 

“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy. 

“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.” 

“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.” 

“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says. 

“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes. 

“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.” 

“She was disgusted.” 

“She said we were being weird teenagers.”

“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.” 

“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.” 

“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.

Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.” 

He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back. 

“Are you okay?” she asks. 

“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?” 

Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?” 

“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.” 

“Right. Isn’t everybody?” 

“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.” 

“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.” 

Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling. 

“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly. 

“I missed my cousin, I think.” 

Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug. 

“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles. 

He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset. 

“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says. 

“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.” 

“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.” 

“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.” 

“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally. 

“Why now?” 

“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.

You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?” 

“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front. 

You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease. 

Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says. 

“Freezing!” 

Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.” 

“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?” 

“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.” 

“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.” 

“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck. 

You push against his hand gently with your cheek. 

“Sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.” 

“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.” 

“How much do you have left?” he asks. 

“Nothing. I was just about to get out.” 

“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?” 

“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere. 

Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.” 

You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck. 

“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses. 

“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair. 

“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.” 

“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper. 

“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.

“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble. 

“What?” 

“It’s a good thing.” 

“How dare you.” 

“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead. 

“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says. 

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge. 

“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”

He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore. 

[faeriekit]

Immediate Roadside Assistance Required

Phic phight fill for sapphireshield (no tumblr listed)

Warnings for: extremely mild depictions of domestic violence

The car that pulls over is a SUV. Beige. Kind of grimy. There’s a mom at the front; inside, Dani bets there’s probably one or two kids.

The mom rolls down the window. She looks nice. Kind of soft. Tough, in a kind of mom sort of way, but soft enough to see a girl with her thumb out at the side of the road and actually pull over. It’s a sweet gesture; Dani has a vague idea that hitchhiking hasn’t been trendy since the eighties, so this’ll have to do.

The mom sticks an elbow out the window and looks Dani up and down. “You alright, sweetheart?” she asks, a different twang on her tongue than the vowels Dani’s been used to all her (short) life. Dani might be out farther than she thought.

Dani grins. For this mom, it’s nice ‘n sweet. “I’m good! I need a ride, though; I’m trying to get to my stepparent’s place. Tryin’ to get as far as the border.”

The woman flattens her lips. She probably thinks Dani’s a runaway, but she’s not. Dani’s something a lot worse.

“You sure?” The mom looks up at the sky, even as her kid squeals about something snack-related in the back. “It’s about to get dark out, honey. Storm’s coming.”

Dani’s grin doesn’t let up. “I’m gonna go meet my brother! I already know where I’m gonna lay up, so don’t worry!”

The mom is for sure worrying; worrying her lip between her teeth, and worrying over a scruffy kid in a torn-up hoodie. “...Well. ‘Long as I get to see him when we get there. Hop in.”

Dani grins, and hops up in the car.

It’s a little warmer in there. Smells like cheerios; there’s a baby, Dani notices, in the back seat. It’s got her middle two fingers in its mouth and big brown eyes.

Dani waves. The baby stares, since babies do that, and Dani occupies herself by making funny faces over the shoulder of the passenger seat, eager to elicit a giggle from a little kid. She loves little kids. She wishes she’d been allowed to be one.

“You might want to turn around and buckle in, young lady,” the mom drawls, wiping stress off her forehead. “Don’t want you to die if we end up in a crash.”

I can’t, Dani doesn’t say, because she’s nice. I’m already dead.

So she turns around and buckles herself in. The mom flicks on the radio, and a woman’s voice starts growling over an electric guitar and a roughed-up drum kit. It sounds fun.

This ride’s going to be good. Dani grins, all teeth and brimstone. There’s a storm rolling in, bad luck hanging in the air like vapor and sparks. Lightning’s on its way.

It’s a long way to the state border. Dani’s going to enjoy every minute she can with the window down, electricity in her fingers, and the quiet humming of the driver singing along.

*

They make it to a rest stop about three quarters of the way there.

Dani’s not against stopping, so she just peeks out the window, watching cars and exhausted drivers slog through the paved flats of the rest stop parking lot. “What’re we doing?” Dani asks, entertained in her own way. Maybe this nice mom is going to try to hand her off to CPS!

It wouldn’t work, but, you know. It would be kind of annoying, if ultimately well-meaning.

“Diaper change for the baby,” the mom offers, and, yeah, that’s practical. “Vending machine break for me. Bathroom break for you, probably.”

Oh, that checks out. “Alright!”

The child lock pops, and Dani hops out of the car; she waits, patiently, for the mom to bring out the baby, who looks even more luminous asleep and spitty than when it's awake.

“It slept through a lot of Rock ‘n’ Roll,” Dani admires. The baby gets held to mom’s chest, a blanket wrapped around them both. “That’s cool.”

“He’s heard a lot of Joan Jett since he was born. I’d be shocked if he couldn’t sleep through a hurricane at this point.”

Dani trots after the mom, patient in her wake. They don’t look too much alike, so maybe there are other people wondering if they even know each other at all, or if Dani’s getting kidnapped or traded away for cigarettes. Or probably they just think Dani’s getting babysat, helping watch a baby while the mom ends up driving them over and away from wherever Dani’s landed herself this time.

The diapers the baby uses are a thick, sort of plush material. They look soft. There are little pastel teddy bears on them: one blue, one pink. Dani gets to touch one when the Mom asks her to pull one out of the big blue bag. There are a whole lot crammed in there; they’re packed in so tight that it’s hard to pull one out of the stack without pulling out all the others, but the baby can only wear one diaper at a time!

“Thanks, sweetheart,” the mom says. It’s the nicest anyone’s been to Dani in ages. She’s glad she lived long enough to hear a soft mom call her sweetie and sweetheart for no reason other than being convenient. “You have to go?”

Dani shakes her head. The mom gives her a look. “We’ll be in the state for another hour. You want to try, at least?”

…She hesitates. The baby doesn’t notice, busy playing with its toes as its mom tries to wriggle it back into its butt covering for the sake of covering its butt. She doesn’t usually have bodily functions that actually…function. But the mom lady didn’t know that.

Whatever. She’d play a game of Snake in there. “‘Kay.”

Dani goes into a stall, flicks open her phone, and manages to eat like twenty little pixels before she actually runs into her own little snake body and dies. Ugh. It doesn’t take up too much time— how much time are humans supposed to spend in the bathroom, anyway??— so she fires up a new game and almost gets through it before she hears someone yell. Dani jolts.

The baby starts crying, faint and far away. Dani quickly grabs herself together and puts the phone away. If something’s happening— something happening to the mom and the baby—

Dani dashes out of the bathroom. There’s a guy at the door. There’s a guy holding the baby by the arm so that the baby is dangling and the guy is yelling at the mom who’d driven Dani here, physically pushing her when she tries to get her baby back.

The instinct to hit him is impossible to wrangle. It’s too bad, but Dani has to help the baby and the mom. Hitting him might hurt the baby, if she isn’t careful— doubly true if she uses an ecto-blast.

She goes invisible instead.

Carefully pulling the baby intangibly through the man’s grip is a quiet, tense process. The baby keeps crying and crying and crying, but the more she hides it, the quieter the cries seem.

And then there’s a baby shallowly crying in her arms.

The guy doesn’t even realize, too busy shoving and hitting the mom who’d done nothing wrong. Dani hates this guy. He reminds her of Vlad— too angry that he isn’t getting his way, and never understanding why no one’s obeying him fast enough.

Dani hoists the baby into one arm, mirroring the way the mom had carried it into the rest stop when they first came in. The hold doesn’t feel as secure as Dany thinks it ought to, but it frees up a hand.

Dani grabs the mom’s hand.

The woman disappears into thin air. The guy looks so spooked.

Dani giggles. Either way, it’s super easy and simple to fly the mom and the baby through the bathroom walls, and hiding them in the bathroom cleaner closet seems safer than hiding them in a stall. Dani doesn’t pause when the mom gasps, frightened by the change in scenery; she pops the baby into her arms and disappears back the way she came.

Dani Phantom has a guy to beat up.

There are lots of ways to scare humans, Dani finds; humans are afraid of the dark, and afraid of what they can’t control. They’re afraid of pain, and they’re afraid of loud noises. Humans aren’t afraid of everything all the time, but they can be afraid of more things when they’re combined than when they’re not.

So Dani flexes her aura. The lights flicker in the main room of the rest stop. The man stops, but his hand is still raised.

He looks to see where the baby is, and realizes that he’s empty-handed. The woman is gone.

The lights go out.

Dani loves being seen sometimes. She doesn’t like being bothered, but she loves attention when she knows no one can call the cops on her; so she drips green. She lets herself glow, gloopy and malformed, as she pulls herself through the wall. She turns melty eyes onto the man who took the baby from its mom.

The guy kind of looks like he’s going to piss himself. Good.

Dani starts to fake cry. It starts out as little sniffles— and then moans, and sobs, Dani clawing herself out of the wall until she’s floating, midair, half-formed and wailing. She kind of hopes she looks super spooky, like one of those CGI gross guys from Stranger Things, or that girl who walked down the stairs in a spooky backbend one time.

The guy steps back. Great. Dani inches forwards. The guy steps back again, face pale as a china plate, looking inches from giving up the ghost and bolting off to the parking lot.

Excellent.

Dani takes her hands off of her face to show melting, distorted features. And she screams.

The guy is gone in seconds. He should just be a sprinter instead of bullying moms and their little babies! Dani huffs, hands on her hips. Whatever. As long as he’s gone, he can do whatever he likes.

Dani barely remembers to set her face right before going to get the mom and baby out of the closet. It doesn’t matter how human she looks, though, because when she opens the door back up for them, the mom looks like she’s seen a ghost.

Dani grins, and probably her teeth aren’t showing anything too weird or spooky. “That guy left! Can we go now?”

The mom takes a deep, rattling breath. She does that thing where she touches her forehead, her chest, and then the air above her shoulders. No one’s told Dani what that means so far, but she’s seen it a lot.

“...Sure, sweetheart.”

Dani beams.

They make it to the edge of the state just as the rain starts to pour down. The mom is still looking for Danny by the time Dani points them into a gas station, but Danny’s not here; Dani made him up long enough to get a ride as far as she thought she could get tonight. The mom is still peering through the gloom of the driver’s side window as Dani turns herself transparent and flies out and away.

The mom was nice. The baby was nice. Dani liked this ride.

She walks, intangible, through the rain. The highway is dark, and wet, but Dani’s optimistic; sometimes people feel bad for her, so she gets more rides in a thunderstorm than on a sunny day. After an hour, somewhere on a rural road she’s never seen nor heard of before, Dani sticks her thumb out for a low little car going exactly the speed limit.

The car has a little old couple in the front and passenger seat. They look like grandparents. The grandpa rolls down his window, white eyebrows pushed together. “You need a ride, honey?”

Dani grins.

[tastesousweet]

Can we get a toxic!babydaddy Matt fic like I’m craving something about my man like it’s been days and I haven’t eaten

⭒ blurb : toxic!bd matt who . . .

toxic!babydaddy matt x poc!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, dad!matt (i understand if u don’t fw it), idk what else :P

mickey speaks: this is kinda different for me so ty for the req!! ik this is just a little headcannon set but i hope you luv this anon 💐

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . brings some girl he’s been “hanging out with” to your daughter’s third birthday party just to piss you off

he’d then get mad when you ignore him and his “friend” the entire party…

he’d come up to you as you watch your daughter play on the decorated playground from afar, “the fuck you bein’ petty for, y/n? i thought we were cool with seeing other people?”

“well i just think it’s rude, you didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone else. i don’t care who she is or what you two do it’s annoying from a planning perspective.”

“that’s my bad… you look good though,” he’d glance around for a second before coming behind you and hooking his arm on your neck.

he’d whisper in your ear while you both stare out at your lively daughter, “can’t believe she’s so big now… lookin’ just like her pretty mama.”

you’d roll your eyes and shoulder matt off of you, “matt, go fuck on the bitch you brought here. and stop saying shit like that to me.”

“jesus- watch your language there’s kids everywhere, y/n.”

you blankly stare at him and his cocky smirk that just aggravates you to pieces, “go awayyy, matt.” you whine out and pinch your eyes with a sigh.

and he laughs because everything’s a fucking joke to him.

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . your friends hate but you will always have a soft spot for, he is your daughter’s father after all

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . sends hundreds of roses to your doorstep for mother’s day

when you text him a picture of the ridiculous bouquets with a “????” he immediately facetimes you, “for the best mama in the whole world. you like ‘em?”

you shake your head and hide a smirk beneath your hand to scold him, “you do too much, matt.”

“uh huh i knew you’d say that…” he’d then ask to see his favorite girl, “now where’s my baby at?”

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can’t mind his business to save his life. he’s always asking you questions about your personal life; and you always shut him down

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can sometimes be a little too desirable when he drops your daughter off at your place (dressed nicely, smelling good, eyes bright yet droopingly eye-fucking you, etc), leading you to invite him in for a glass of wine or two

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . you sometimes find in your bed again when you feel particularly lonely and nostalgic

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . loves the few times he gets to to wake up to his daughter pulling on his hand and you by his side, fast asleep

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . tends to start arguments from the smallest things to get you to talk to him longer than you need to

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . will always put effort into being a great father (which you respect) despite never putting that same effort into your relationship

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . makes sure you’ll never forget he loved you first and is connected to you far deeper than any other man ever could be

[shadowdaddies]

Hello girly, there is so little fics about Tarquin, so can I please request a Tarquin x mate!reader. Where she is a quiet and kind female, it would be cool if she was a "lesser fae" (like she has a tail or horns). She loves him and doesnt really want a role in court, she just wants to be there for him. Maybe the high lords dont know much about her, and there is a High Lords meeting and she randomly appears (maybe pregnant) and just some fluff, and Mor, Feyra and Viv being happy because there is another female to be frainds with

ahh I love this, there's definitely not enough fics for Prythian's Most Eligible Bachelor™. Thank you for the request!

Less is More

Tarquin x Reader

warnings: this does get a little steamy at the end

Taking practiced, steady breaths, you forced your pounding heart to slow and plastered on a confident smirk as you took long strides through the open doors.

Your hand was slick with sweat against Tarquin’s, your mate giving a reassuring squeeze while he guided you to walk slightly in front of him. Were you a weaker faun, you would have been smothered by the table’s gazes burning into you, but you were not weaker. You were a “lesser faerie” - or so that was your title given from the old High Fae - but you were High Lady of the Summer Court, and remembering that put the strength in your spine you needed as you took your seat.

Tarquin took his place next to you, turquoise eyes swimming with pride as he drank in the attention from the room. He feigned nonchalance, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your hand atop his against the table. “Ah yes,” he laughed softly, raising your joined hands in display for the group of High Lords and Ladies. “Allow me to introduce my mate, the High Lady of the Summer Court.”

You smiled, unable to control the blush that bloomed upon your cheeks as Feyre gave you a polite smile and nod, Rhysand and Kallias both granting quiet congratulations. 

It was Viviane who smirked, reclining back in her seat as she loosed a dramatic sigh. As the second High Lady in Prythian’s history after Feyre along with what you’d heard of her, you liked the female already. “It’s nice to have another High Lady at the table. Perhaps soon enough, each court will recognize their females as equals.”

Her icy blue eyes sparkled with amusement at the sight of flames on Beron’s fingertips, the High Lord of Autumn’s focus having never moved from the horns on your head, perfectly framed by your royal crown.

Conversely, Tarquin’s own stare never faltered, watching Beron with a predator’s gaze. He knew better than to bait the other High Lords - Tarquin found it better to rule as himself, a kind yet firm leader - and you admired him impossibly more for it.

“Welcome, High Lady. Let us begin,” Helion purred, his smooth voice emanating a deep power that seemed to bring Beron out of whatever anger-filled haze he was lost in. Murky brown eyes whipped to Helion, who returned the acknowledgment with a slight arch of his brow.

“Beron, if there is something you wish to lead the meeting with, please do so,” Helion drawled, his demeanor remaining cool despite noticeable efforts not to look past Beron to where the Lady of Autumn was seated. You made a mental note to ask Tarquin about that later, focused on keeping your chin high for the moment.

Beron’s eyes flicked between you and Feyre - the lesser fae and former human at the table - but wisely he remained silent. “Continue, Helion,” Beron ground out, and you had to bite back your smile at Rhys and Feyre’s wicked grins, darkness recoiling from where it had been ready to strike.

You sat through the meeting, listening to male egos battle each other over petty squabbles, only interjecting as you and Tarquin found necessary. It was easy to find where you would fit in with this group. While it was clear Autumn would never accept you and Dawn was ambivalent, you felt a fast kinship towards Night and Winter - unsurprising, given those courts were who your wise mate was most drawn to.

As soon as the meeting ended, Beron quickly cleared, leaving the Lady of Autumn to scurry behind him. Your heart hurt for her, her eyes tired as her eldest son seemed to be the only person who paid her any mind. The other High Lords dispersed, only Night and Winter lingering behind with Tarquin and you. 

“Finally, that’s over!” the Night Court’s emissary, Morrigan, practically squealed as she maneuvered around the table to you, enveloping you in a warm hug. 

A surprised laugh escaped you at her kind and gentle touch, the dichotomous nature of the Night Court’s leaders jarring despite Tarquin’s advance notice.

“So, would you tell us the story of how you and Tarquin met?” Viviane pressed, her arm looping through yours as Feyre fell into step alongside the both of you. You were surprised at how easy it was to talk with them - both High Fae from such different backgrounds - but you felt beyond blessed by the Mother for not only allies, but new friends through your role.

The crescent moon was high in the sky, stars twinkling impossibly bright when you felt the heavy need for sleep weigh upon you. You hadn’t even noticed your eyes struggling to stay open until familiar hands draped a jacket over your shoulders, and you stirred to see Feyre, Morrigan, and Viviane all slowly rising. 

Bidding each of them a good night, you leaned into Tarquin’s warmth, savoring the calming scent of coconut and sea spray while he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hair. He led your to the shared room in which you were staying, closing the door gently behind before peeling his jacket from your shoulders.

A whine escaped you at the sudden cold, and your mate chuckled, arms wrapping around you fully this time. Enveloped in his warmth, you settled against Tarquin’s chest and swayed to a silent melody, the rhythm of the ocean.

“You were incredible tonight,” he murmured against your neck. “You are always incredible, and yet you always blow me away with your grace and wisdom.” 

He pressed another lingering kiss to your shoulder, working his way up to hover near your ear. Teeth tugged lightly on the skin of your earlobe, your mind growing dizzy with the sensations when he whispered, “I am so thankful, and honored, to have you as my mate and High Lady.”

Feeling the weight of the crown against your horns, you couldn’t help but tease him. “Horns and all?” but Tarquin’s eyes grew darker, turquoise eyes like a brewing sea storm. 

He pulled your head to his toned chest, tongue flicking out against one of those sensitive horns. You mewled at the motion, the scent of the room changing with the fervor of arousal growing. 

“Especially these,” he breathed, hoisting your legs around his hips before turning to toss you onto the mattress. You bounced against the silken sheets with a giggle, watching your mate lift his shirt over his head while his gaze raked unabashedly over every inch of your figure. 

“Every part of you is perfect,” Tarquin whispered, white hair aglow in the light from the window, eyes shining with mischief as his body slid sinfully against your own. 

“I love you,” you whispered, legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. He once again kissed his way down your body, this time peeling away the fabric of your dress as he did so. Your consciousness drifted away at his touch, carnal feeling and deep emotion invading your senses while the only thought you could manage was that “forever is not long enough with this male.”

[rowretro]

Yandere!demon! heeseung x human! Reader( Please?)

TOOTHPASTE MOJITO

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned, somewhat sexual(?), alcohol consumption

❁synopsis: Heeseung, a demon of many demons that roams earth, bored. His eyes then land on y/n. The girl who was disgusted by her raspberry mojito, and proceeded to order more mojitos. That's when Y/n saw hell....

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

Heeseung smirked, his hands stained with blood, as he stared at the limp body before him. Another day another slay, demon edition. He literally slays them. Could you blame him? I mean what did the drunkard expect? trying to steal his wallet. He didn't stand a chance. Heeseung groaned as he went to his mansion, maids slipping off his coat and placing his shoes aside, as he walked in. The man's rich, anything he wants he gets, money, shoes, cars anything.

But he was missing one thing... a wife. Sure he'd sleep with some girls now and then when he's bored, but none of that satisfies his loving for love. True love, the kind of love one'd find in any movie, a shoulder to lie on, a person to turn to and feel comfortable. The man checked himself out in the mirror, a branded leather jacket worn over his black button down shirt, and trousers to match it. He slipped on a Rolex of the many he owned, followed by some jewellery.

The man walked into the party, fitting in as Jay threw an arm over him "Thought you'd never come, I assume you're here for the girls?" Jay asked as Heeseung snickerred "not this time- I got some time off of work so I decided to drop in... where's the bar?" He asked as Jay pointed it out. The man sat down at the stool, beside him, he could see the back of a girl, her dark hair somewhat covering her bare back, she was dressed is a shimmering, short black dress.

So far she seemed like a hottie to him. "Ack- disgusting... It tastes like grass-" she complained turning around to the bartender. Heeseung got a the full view of her face. Fuck was she beautiful. Her eye makeup really did suit her, purple glitter reflecting blue, lips so plump and kissable, her nose slightly big, but really added a stunning touch to her pretty face. "Can I get a mojito with Ice... make it really minty" she said as Heeseung frowned at her.

As the bartender walked off to prepare her drink, Heeseung turned to face her "Minty mojito?... that'd taste like toothpaste in alcohol- its already minty as is why ad more?" He questioned as she giggled "Toothpaste mojito.... not a mint lover huh?" she asked then she froze "Wow... Jay knows so many attractive men but damn." she added quite boldly. "He seems to know very pretty girls... none as pretty as you though, can't believe he gatekept you from me... Heeseung." He introduced himself. "Y/n.... " she said with a smile

If only she knew there and then that he's a goddamn demon. Literally. She thought she was just drunk, one second she was at the party, the next in a luxorious bedroom with a fine man. That morning she realized, the man did the impossible, he literally teleported her. She saw him really murder a man. She looked under the blanket. No sign of pain, hickeys or anything, she smelled nice, dressed in a man's jumper, presumably Heeseungs.

Oh how stupid she felt. Thinking it'd be easy to sneak out of a demon's home without being caught. Acting cool, walking out as the guards assumed she was just some slut he slept with. "Where do you think you're going sweetheart?" he asked, her back against the wall, as his body trapped her. "uh... home? I need to feed my bunny" she excused as he just laughed.

"Oh baby how drunk were you?... you ARE home... and I fed your bunny see? *he said with a smirk pointing at the little white rabbit that rested comfortably in a more spacious cage". It was too much to process. did she move in with him? did something happen? are they in a relationship? "yes, I guess, and Yes.." he answerred without missing a beat, red eyes staring into hers. "Did I say that out loud?..." she asked as he smirked.

"As you can see darling, I'm a demon, I know everything you think about. When I first laid my eyes on you... thought I'd just let you stay in my bed one night.... then you talked to me and fuck." He groaned, holding her heart at his chest "feel that?! Im in fucking love with you baby, I fucking wanted you... no I fucking needed you. so here you are." He said with a smirk "You're crazy. Im not into you Heeseung. You can't just kidnap me, and my bunny and say im you're in love with me. Im leaving." She claimed confidentally

"That's where you're wrong. You're mine, you're not going anywhere and you won't need to, everything you need is in this mansion. If I want something sweetie.. I get it. How about you think twice before your decision, sure you wouldn't want to anger a demon... I KNOW you're smarter than that." He simply said. He's right. Only an idiot would do such a thing, she really had no choice... She was in hell and there's no going back....

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

(so sorry to all my readers, Ill try work on the series's too, yes my blog is wet now- its no longer a dry desert)

[beachbxtchforev]

Tan Lines

your boyfriend adored your tan lines more than you, if that was even possible.

• this is my 1st ever post so pls be nice 🤍🌊

→ pls leave a comment below if you like it & if I should do a pt2

pairing: fem!reader x boyfriend!rafe

word count: 600

warnings: slight smut, few curse words, 18+

all year you looked forward to the permanent halter top that adorned your skin. wearing the same bikini over and over, countless hours in the sun, finding the perfect lotion. it was all a part of the tanning routine that led to a sun kissed glow. for some reason the lines made you feel more beautiful, not that they changed your appearance. it was like a confident boost, an accessory. you really couldn’t love your tan lines more, unless you were going up against Rafe Cameron of course.

you were laying out by the pool in the backyard of Tanneyhill, playlist flowing through your speaker, occasionally spraying yourself with a squirt bottle to cool you down. your routine was down to a science. ever since you had met Rafe, he had kept his door open to you, encouraging you to treat the Cameron estate as your own. that being said, it wasn’t unusual for you to use the grounds without Rafe’s presence, like today.

that is until you heard a low whistle, breaking you of your slight daze.

“my god, baby. aren’t you a sight?” Rafe complimented as he approached your chair from behind. you looked up at your boyfriend, golf-clad appearance making you unintentionally clench your thighs. he had just returned from a country club outing with the boys.

“hi handsome,” you smiled up at him, “how’d you play?”

Rafe shook his head, “Topper couldn’t hit for shit. took us a whole extra hour just waitin’ for him to get it together.” he grumbled as he moved to sit on the end of your chair, eager to get his hands on you.

“if I woulda known this is what was waitin’ for me,” he starts while tugging at the strap of your bikini bottom and letting it snap back in place, “I woulda left his ass on the course.”

you giggle, sitting up to reach his mouth, letting out a content sigh when your lips touch. you’re not surprised when Rafe instantly takes things further, his tongue running across your bottom lip.

as you grant him access, he follows momentum, guiding you to lay back down in the sun chair, slightly shifting so his body is laying on top of yours. you can’t help but let out a small moan, knowing where this is going.

“Raaafe,” you whine, “we are outside. anyone could see us.” the last thing you want is for Rose to catch you two.

“no one’s home, I checked on my way in,” he distracts you by running his hand up your bare side until his fingers brush the underside of your breast. “let me see what you’ve been workin on all morning,” he begs, despite his needy fingers already pulling the tiny piece of triangle fabric out of the way.

a small grunt escapes his lips as he sees your exposed bud, mixed with the perfect outline of the bikini that once stuck to your body. the cool sensation of the wind making it perk up, causing you to gasp at the sensation. he can’t help himself but immediately attach his lips to your skin, slightly sucking while his left hand comes up to massage the other. once he feels satisfied, Rafe moves his mouth along the tan line, like it’s his guide. small open mouthed kisses and occasional nips forming marks going up to your collar bone.

small moans escape your lips, back arching to get closer to his mouth. your hands run along his buzzed head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. “need you, Rafe. please”

-

comment if I should do a part 2! ✨

[dark-night-hero]

Kaeya found it hard to believe how clingy you are nowadays. It is not like you were never clingy to him but then again, nowadays you are being clingy. Extra clingy to be exact.

"... Seriously?" "Leave 'em be Diluc." Kaeya sigh "No I would have understand if it was just the two of you alone, but... right here? Seriously?" "What's wrong being in the arms of my love?" You pout as you butt in, one hand reaching out for your drink that was on the barstool, the other kept warped around your lover's neck as you sat there comfortably on his lap, his cool hands resting on your side.

In the end, Diluc could only sigh before keeping himself busy behind the bar. There was almost midnight and unlike any other day, there was barely a crowd, one because it is still the busiest time of the week and second, because it is scorching hot people seemed to prefer cooling down on their own house. And you? Oh. You prefer to cool down in your lover's arms.

Kaeya truly ind it hard to believe how clingy you have become because of the heat almost remembering the times where he could not hold you during the winter season due to him being 'cold'. But he does not mind it though. In fact, he was enjoying it more than he should. That he could still remember that day.

"Can I hold you?" You asked one day as soon as he stepped inside your home. "Huh?" He was busy taking off his coat when he heard that and almost drop it on the spot. After all, you were never the one to imitate physical affection and of course, Kaeya being a gentleman he is, take consideration of it. "Can I hold you?" He blink, looking at your blushing cheeks as your eyes refused to meet his. "You know what... nevermi-" "Come here." Removing his coat and shoes in a blink of an eyes, he was already by your side.

"This is nice." You giggle, kicking your feet in the air as he gives you a piggyback ride. "Because it's cool?" He asked, a smile making its way on his lips as he tighten his hold on your tights. "No." He then felt you place your chin in his should and hug him closer, "because it's you." You laugh "oh and maybe because it's cool." "You're so silly." He chuckles.

"Hey Kaeya." He could feel you slowly dozing off his back causing him to humm in reply, causing you to feel the vibration on his back. You only snuggle closer to him, arms warped around his chest and shoulder. "I love you." With a smile on his lips, with the starts their to witness your love. "I love you too." He replied.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: i want to cling into this man for the rest of my summer days.

[jqnehr]

❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.

boothill x fem!reader.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).

𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.

"You look like you should be in a saloon."

The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to something secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.

He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first I heard that one."

"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."

"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."

"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"

"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."

"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"

"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."

"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."

"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"

"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"

"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the 'prize money up', if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."

"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"

You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."

"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."

"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"

He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"

You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."

He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."

"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."

"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."

"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.

"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."

"You can't swear?"

"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."

You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."

"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."

"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."

He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."

"Gotcha." You leanes your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.

"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."

"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."

Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"

"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."

He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"

You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."

"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."

You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."

"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."

You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."

He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."

"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"

He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."

So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothilk stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."

With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.

you forgot to pay the bill for your drink

so I covered it for you.

you owe me one, cowboy

His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.

Oopsies 🤭

How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?

His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.

Alright then

I want steak

Can you even eat?

You liked how he always replied fast.

Nah

But that's fine

Your company's better

Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.

Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.

Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.

© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.

[sonicku]

Okay wasn’t expecting to wake up from my nap to a Sonic and Shadow Tails Tube but I’m not complaining! Suppose it only makes sense with the run up to SxS Gens and the movie, haha.

I’m sometimes less of a fan of how they’re depicted in more modern stuff, and a little of that shines through here, BUT, this is actually really well done in my opinion! I mean just having an episode for only them (and Tails, of course) is great on its own, but I love how even with bickering they weren’t unreasonable with it? Like it didn’t feel contrived like it does sometimes, and they actually made sure to mention some of the times they’ve helped and cared about each other. And all of it was just so fun to watch, it’s a really entertaining dynamic! Love them so much, can’t wait to see more of them this year!

However, seeing acknowledgment of Prime again meaning they very likely really meant it was canon gives me real mixed signals. On the positive side it means all of the stuff that happened between Sonic and Shadow there is canon (which would be incredible to me, that show did so much for them) and so are my favs like Nine and Dread, but it also means we just have to accept Sonic had a short time where he was just wildly out of character? And nobody in universe cared? New headcanon that he didn’t take his Adderall, or something, I don’t know. Guess I’ll just have to get over it haha.

(Also nice to see Sonic call Shadow a faker, it’s generally been flipped in fandom portrayals of them I see (which I can still get behind tbf!), but it was always Sonic who gave out that nickname, not Shadow, so cool to see them use it.)

[cheynovak]

Somewhere only we know - Part 2 

Dean Winchester x F/Reader (Y/N)  

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, just a lot of love 

Side note: English isn’t my first language. 

This story does not follow the SPN timeline. 

-- 

After the hunt where Dean met Y/N in a dream caused by a Djinn the brothers move on. Although Dean and Y/N said goodbye she keeps lingering in his head. What if he had stayed, would she loved, him the same way as she did in their shared dream.  

Now many years later their paths cross again.  

-- 

The bunker echoed with the sound of new voices, an underground sanctuary where the Winchester brothers found solace amidst the chaos of their world. Sam, ever the strategist, had brought a new purpose to their home. He had opened its doors to those who strayed from the apocalypse world, seeking refuge and guidance in the ways of hunting. 

Dean paced the dimly lit corridors, the tension of unfamiliar faces settling heavily upon him. He had always been wary of outsiders, his loyalty fiercely guarded around those he deemed worthy. But this influx of strangers, each with their own tales and trials, left him feeling like a stranger in his own home. 

Mary had spoken to Sam a few hours ago, about how Dean lived in silence amongst them. Worried about her oldest son she had asked Sam to talk to him. Giving him more purpose. 

One evening, as the bunker hummed with the murmurs of its newfound inhabitants, Sam sought out his brother in the confines of his room. He found Dean sitting alone, listening to some music to shut out the chaos swirling outside his door. 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam’s voice broke through the stillness, a beacon of familiarity in the darkness. Dean glanced up, his expression guarded yet softened by the sight of his brother. “Hey, Sammy,” he greeted, the lines of tension easing from his features. 

“Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight, it might be nice to meet some people.” Dean sighed, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon him like a leaden shroud. “I don’t know, Sammy,” he confessed, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken fears.  

“I’m pretty comfy out here.“ Sam looked around, “What are you doing all day, Dean?“ Well you know, “Watch tv, wash or work on Baby, listen to some music.” speaking of music. The second Foreigners waiting for a girl like you started playing Dean pushed the skip button.  

“Still can’t hear that song huh?” Dean pretended it was nothing, shrugging his shoulders. “Dean... it has been years. Why didn’t you search for her already?” “And tell her what Sam? I’m sorry for not being there for you. Sorry for driving off? Sorry for not being able to give you what you need.” 

“Dean...” Sam started. “No Sam! I made a choice, I’m ok with that.” An awkward silence fell between the brothers. He didn’t believe his older brother, he loved or cared either too much or too little and, in this case, it was way too much.  

“Well, you need to get out more, maybe you could fetch us the food I just ordered?” Sam suggested, Dean rose from his seat with a heavy sigh. “If you want me gone, just say so Sammy.” Sam looked hurt and shocked. ”D-Dean that’s not it...” But before he could say more the older brother was gone.  

As he drove, the cool breeze of the open road washing over him, Dean felt a sense of liberation he hadn’t realized he’d been craving.  

-- 

Y/N sat at a cozy booth in the burger joint, as she waited for her date to return from the restroom so they could leave. The soft chatter of other diners and the clinking of silverware filled the air, creating a soothing ambiance that enveloped her in a sense of calm. 

Alex wasn’t a bad guy, but their conversations were filled with awkward silences and when he talked all he could talk about was work. They met at the office, he was always the nice quiet guy.  

When he asked her out, she knew how much it would have taken from him. So, she said yes. As she zoomed out, looking in front of her, amidst the gentle hum of conversation, she heard it.  

A familiar rumble, a distinct purr that sent a shiver of recognition down her spine. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the sound. She glanced through the window, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a Chevy Impala parked outside. 

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, memories flooding her mind like a tidal wave of nostalgia. The sound of that engine was etched into her soul, a reminder of a time long past yet never forgotten. 

Her date returned to the table, a quizzical look in his eyes as he noticed the smile playing on her lips. “What’s got you grinning like that?” he asked, curiosity lacing his words. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on the Impala parked outside. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. “Just a fond memory, that’s all.” 

Her date nodded, accepting her vague answer with a shrug before diving back into conversation. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of longing that settled in the pit of her stomach, the echo of that familiar sound reverberating through her thoughts like a haunting melody. 

Y/N had to be honest and tell Alex a few times she didn’t hear him. All she could do was glance outside.  

When they stepped out of the diner, the cool night air wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Y/N’s eyes immediately sought out the familiar shape of the Impala parked nearby, her steps instinctively leading her towards it. 

Leaving her date standing alone a few feet away.  

As she approached the car, her hand reached out almost of its own accord, gliding over the smooth surface of the Impala’s body. Tracing her curves like she was a woman needed to be loved. She peeked inside her heart raced. It looked exactly like the car he used to drive.  

And then she noticed the carvings, the initials, the same once he had seen that night. After taking a breath she greeted the car like she had been a friend.

This must be a dream. She thought. I'm dreaming.

“Hello, baby,” she murmured softly out of nostalgia, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Her date watched in surprise, a curious expression flickering across his features. “Is this your car?” he asked, his tone tinged with a mix of confusion and admiration. 

Y/N didn’t turn to him, a sheepish smile playing on her lips as she was reliving her memories in her mind. “No, actually,” she admitted, a hint of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for classic cars... especially this one.” 

Her date’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his gaze drifting back to the Impala with newfound appreciation. “I can see why,” he remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. “It’s a beautiful car.” 

-- 

Dean stepped out of the diner, the familiar sound of the closing door echoing in his ears. His eyes fell upon the Impala and the two people standing around her.  

He couldn’t help but smile as he approached, he overheard a man’s voice, commenting on the car’s beauty. “She sure is,” Dean replied without missing a beat, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and affection for his cherished vehicle. 

Turning to face the source of the comment, Dean’s gaze fell upon the woman standing nearby his car, looking inside, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in their presence... “Y/N?” 

-- 

Y/N’s eyes widened in astonishment as she recognised his voice, a rush of memories flooding back at the sight of the familiar face before her. “Dean?” she whispered, disbelief colouring her tone as she took in his rugged features and trademark leather jacket. 

Dean’s smile widened at the sound of his name on her lips, a sense of familiarity washing over him at the sight of her. He couldn't help but stare, his gaze lingering on Y/N longer than he intended. 

Memories flashed before his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he took in her appearance, the way her hair fell around her face, the sparkle of recognition in her eyes, her lips as she smiled at him.  

Dean's eyes trailed over Y/N's figure. He couldn't deny the rush of desire that surged through him at the sight of her, the memory of her beauty was nothing compared to the real deal. 

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken. Dean felt a rush of nostalgia wash over him. 

-- 

Y/N couldn't help but notice the change in Dean, the transformation from the young boy she had once known into the handsome man standing before her. His rugged features held a maturity that spoke of the trials and tribulations he had faced, yet his green eyes still held a spark of the boy she remembered. 

As Dean's green eyes met hers, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her. For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken. 

Y/N’s date looked between them, confusion evident in his expression as he realized the connection between Dean and Y/N. “Do you two know each other?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. 

Dean chuckled, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced at Y/N. “You could say that,” he replied cryptically, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he shared a brief glance with Y/N. 

“Oh, eh right. Dean meet Alex, Alex this is Dean.” The men shook hands. Dean looked back at you. “Boyfriend?” he asked a little scared. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the question. "Oh no, no, just a colleague," she replied quickly, almost instinctively. 

Relief washed over Dean's face, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the sadness that clouded Alex's expression. Alex's reaction was immediate. She could see the pain flicker across his face, a silent admission of the feelings he had begun to develop for her. 

"I... I think I should go," Alex said, his voice barely a whisper as he turned to leave. “Wait a second.” Y/N said walking over to his car.  

Y/N's heart sank as she watched him walk away, a pang of regret coursing through her veins. She knew she had hurt him, and for that, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. 

"Thank you for the evening, Alex," her voice filled with gratitude and sorrow. “it’s just eh... Dean and I we eh...” “Have a history, I can tell.” He finished her sentence. “I see you on Monday, right?” She nodded and looked back at Dean when Alex drove off.  

A small silence grew between Dean and Y/N. Staring at each other. 

Suddenly, Dean broke the silence. "So, where do you live now?" Y/N hesitated for a moment before replying, "I moved to Kansas." While slowly walking back towards him. 

Dean looked at Y/N, his eyes softening with a hint of longing. Not wanting to let her go just yet. "Hey, eh why don't you join us tonight if you have nothing else to do?" he asked, his voice gentle yet insistent. 

Y/N hesitated, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. “Us?” she asked “Sam, me, a few other people who we, let’s say co house with.” She was still in doubt. But Dean's words broke through her hesitation. "We could catch up, it has been a while" he suggested, his tone filled with sincerity. 

Caught between the pull of the past and the promise of the present, Y/N found herself nodding in agreement. "Okay," she said softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within her. 

Dean's face lit up with a genuine smile as he reached for the car door. "Milady," he said, his voice warm with affection and a touch of playfulness. 

Y/N couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over her at his gesture. With a graceful nod, she stepped into the car, the soft leather seats enveloping her in a sense of nostalgia.  

Even the smell was still the same as she remembered. 

The ride was quiet part from the soft rock music coming from the radio. 

Dean glanced at Y/N seated beside him, a rush of memories flooded his mind, triggered by the faint scent that lingered in the air. It was her scent, a familiar fragrance that brought back a cascade of emotions from their shared past. 

The scent carried him back to moments they had spent together and in this car.  

He remembered the way her body felt pressed against his, the warmth of her skin igniting a fire within him that he thought had long been extinguished. Their fingers intertwined, their hearts beating in sync as they surrendered to the passion that had consumed them that night. 

He recalled the soft sighs that escaped her lips, the gentle curve of her neck as he leaned in to kiss her, and the way her breath caught in her throat as their lips met in a fervent embrace. 

-- 

Y/N's voice gently pulled Dean out of his memory. "What's on your mind?" she asked. Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words. But then, with a sigh, he decided to be partly honest with her. "It's just... it's no longer just me and my brother," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. 

He watched as Y/N's expression softened. "What do you mean?" “The bunker is filled with people, new people, hunters, allies, friends... it's complicated,"  

Dean explained a little what happened while parking the car in the garage. Before walking back into the chaos.  

Dean walked Y/N out of the garage, his steps slow and deliberate as he led her towards the entrance of the bunker. As they approached the entrance, Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. 

He pushed open the heavy door, revealing the bustling activity of the bunker beyond. Hunters and friends, their voices echoing off the walls. Spotting Sam across the room, Dean raised his voice to be heard over the din. "Hey, you remember Y/N, right?" he said, drawing the attention of those around him. 

As the chatter died down, all eyes turned to Dean and Y/N, curiosity evident in their expressions. Dean took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. 

"I want to introduce you all to someone," he began, gesturing towards Y/N beside him. "This is Y/N. She is... eh, a friend." 

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd, and Dean couldn't help but notice the look of shock on Mary’s face as their eyes met across the room. 

As Sam approached Y/N, a warm smile spread across his face, genuine pleasure evident in his eyes. "Y/N, it's so good to see you again," he greeted her, his voice filled with sincerity. 

Y/N returned his smile, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her at his genuine welcome. "It's good to see you too, Sam," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude. 

As they caught up, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she fell back into conversation with Sam and the other people here. 

Meanwhile, Dean watched from the sidelines, a pang of loneliness tugging at his heart as he observed how well Y/N seemed to fit in with everyone else. He couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that crept into his mind as he watched her laughing and chatting with the others.  

-- 

Y/N couldn't ignore the sight of Dean sitting alone in the corner, nursing a beer as he watched the people around him. Sensing his solitude, she made her way over to him, determined to offer him some company. 

"Hey," she said softly as she approached, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Mind if I join you?" Dean looked up, surprised to see her standing there. A faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You, never, go ahead." 

Y/N settled herself beside him, the warmth of her presence a comforting contrast to the coolness of the room.  

-- 

Mary nodded to Sam while she spotted them, “Who is she?” Sam smiled softly “Y/N, we met her during a hunt. It was so long ago I don’t remember when, must have been at least 10 years.”  

“Dean seems to like her enough to bring her home.” Mary noticed. “I know he was torn when he had to leave her. It took me while to realise it wasn’t the Djinn that affected him, he never talked about her but later I realised it was leaving her that upset him.”  

Mary looked at her youngest boy, Sam could read the question in her eyes. “I said he had to contact her, start a life with her if he wanted, but he claimed it was nothing like that.” Sam nodded towards his brother.  

“Seeing him like this, makes me realise he wasn’t honest to himself.”  

-- 

"It's a bit hectic out there, huh?" she remarked, gesturing to the bustling crowd. 

Dean nodded, taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah, it's a bit much for me sometimes," Y/N studied him for a moment, noting the weariness etched into his features. 

She took his beer out of his hands putting it on the table behind them. "Why don't we go sit somewhere quieter?" she suggested, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Just the two of us." 

"Yeah, I'd like that," 

As Dean led Y/N to his room, his quiet sanctuary away from the bustling activity of the bunker, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness creeping over him. 

Y/N settled onto his bed, leaning against the bedframe with a relaxed ease that contrasted sharply with Dean's own awkwardness. He stood by the doorway, unsure of what to do with himself now that they were alone together. 

Y/N looked up at him, a gentle smile playing on her lips, tapping the bed. "You can sit down, you know, I won’t bite." she offered, patting the space beside her on the bed. 

As Dean settled onto the bed beside Y/N, the floodgates of conversation opened, and he found himself pouring out everything that had happened to him over the past ten years.  

He spoke of the battles fought, the losses endured, and the moments of triumph that had shaped him into the person he was today. How he met Cas and Jack. How his mom was back.  

Y/N listened intently, her eyes locked on his as he recounted his journey, her expression a mixture of empathy and understanding. To his surprise she took everything in very quiet.  

“Dean?” he looked up at her. “Be honest with me please. Why don’t you like being around these people? What holds you back to make friends?” she asked him. 

So typical he though, she hasn’t seen me in years and sees right through me.  

Dean got up, his movements around the room became restless, his hands fidgeting with objects as he avoided Y/N's gaze. Her question hung heavy in the air, stirring up emotions he had long tried to bury. 

"It's not that I don't like being around them," Dean began, his voice low and hesitant. "It's just... complicated." 

He paused, struggling to find the right words to express the turmoil swirling inside him. How could he explain the weight of responsibility that rested on his shoulders, the constant fear of failure, the overwhelming sense of duty that consumed him? 

"They depend on Sam and me," he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "And sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning under the weight of it all. Like I'm not allowed to just... be." 

"I get it," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "But you can't have Sammy carry that weight alone.” She got up and held his hand. “And you can always come to me if you need.”  

"Thank you," he said softly, in the quiet intimacy of the room, Dean's gratitude lingered in the air between them like a tangible presence.  

“You know,” she started “I always hoped you would knock on my door again.” As their eyes locked, a mix of emotions danced in the depths of their gaze, unspoken words swirling in the space between them. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I-I was protecting you. You don’t deserve a life like this.” 

In Y/N's eyes, Dean saw understanding, compassion, and a flicker of something deeper, a connection that transcended mere words. He felt a sense of warmth spreading through him, a feeling of acceptance and belonging that he had longed for more than he cared to admit. 

Y/N saw vulnerability, strength, and a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of his guarded exterior. She felt a surge of affection welling up inside her, a desire to offer him comfort and solace in the midst of his inner turmoil. 

“But what if I want to?” She looked at his lips while his hand moved to the back of her neck.  

As they closed the space between them ever so slowly, the air crackled with anticipation, a silent invitation passing between them. Their lips met in a tender embrace, a shared moment of vulnerability.  

The sensation was electric, sending shivers down his spine as he pulled Y/N closer, his hands finding her hips and drawing her in with a gentle urgency. 

Y/N's touch on his chest ignited a fire within him, her fingers tracing the contours of his body with a delicate touch that sent waves of pleasure coursing through him.  

He could feel his heart racing beneath her touch, his pulse quickening with each passing moment as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the kiss. 

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them, their bodies pressed together, a soft moan escaped Y/N's lips, sending a jolt of desire coursing through Dean's veins. It was as if the sound was a silent invitation, a cue that activated a primal instinct within him. 

Feeling her response, Dean's hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to cradle the back of her neck again, while the other traced the curves of her body.  

With a gentle yet firm touch, he guided her back, pressing her against the wall with a sense of urgency that matched the pounding of his heart. 

Y/N responded eagerly, her hands moving to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. her skin tingling with anticipation as she surrendered to the heat coming from Dean’s body.  

Their breaths mingled in the air between them, hot and heavy. Dean looks at her, making sure he wasn’t crossing any lines.  

And as their lips met once more in a heated embrace, Dean couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration wash over him. A primal need to possess and be possessed, to lose himself in the intoxicating bliss of their shared passion.  

"I missed you," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible. I've thought about you every day, wondered where you were, what you were doing..." 

His words trailed off as he pressed his forehead against hers, the intensity of his gaze locking with hers as if searching for reassurance in the depths of her eyes. 

"I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've always been on my mind, even when I tried to push you away. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that you were missing." 

Y/N's touch was gentle as she cupped Dean's face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jawline with a tenderness that spoke volumes of her emotions. 

"I felt the same way," she confessed, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I regretted letting you walk out that day. It felt like I had lost a part of myself, like I was making the biggest mistake of my life." 

Dean's heart ached at her confession, "And you know," Y/N continued, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, "the only time I felt truly happy was in our dream. It was like a glimpse of what could have been, like a....”   

“A reminder of the life we could have had together." Dean continued her sentence. She nodded. Feeling the weight of his emotions pressing in on him, Dean closed the space between them, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability.  

His hand gently brushed against Y/N's cheek, his touch tender yet filled with urgency. 

"Maybe I'm being too forward," he began, his voice raw with emotion, "but I want you to stay with me tonight. I need to feel your body close to me, to know that you're here with me." 

He knew he was laying his heart bare, exposing himself in a way he hadn't done in a long time. But in that moment, all he could think about was the overwhelming need to hold Y/N in his arms, to feel her warmth against him and know that she was real. 

Y/N's eyes searched his, her gaze filled with tenderness and understanding. She reached out to take his hand in hers, her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through him. 

"I want that too," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I want to be with you, Dean. To feel your arms around me and know that I'm home." 

A mischievous glint sparkled in Dean's eyes as he flirted with Y/N, his heart racing with the thrill of anticipation. He settled down on the bed behind him. "Home, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with need.  

"Why don't you come over here and I'll give you the warmest welcome you've ever had." 

Dean's heart skipped a beat when he noticed her confidence as she climbed onto his lap, her body inches away from his as she leaned in close. "Is that a promise?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. 

Dean's grin widened, his hands reaching out to pull her closer until their bodies were pressed together.  His hands guiding her to grind against his hips. "You bet it is," he replied, his voice low and smouldering with passion. 

Their lips melted together in another breath-taking kiss, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsating between them.  

Dean's hands roamed Y/N's body, tracing the curves of her form with a hunger he hadn’t felt in forever. 

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Dean's hair as she deepened the kiss, her breath mingling with his in a symphony of passion. With a soft moan, Dean rolled over, laying her beneath him, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.  

His hand moved under her shirt, Y/N gasped at the sensation, her heart racing with the intensity of their connection. His hands roamer her breasts, kneading while his lips nip at her neck. 

Clothes became obstacles, hastily discarded in their eagerness to feel each other's skin against their own. 

Y/N's soft moans filled the air, Dean felt a surge of primal desire wash over him, his own breath hitching in response. Loving how she said his name.  

The sound was like music to his ears, igniting a fire within him that burned hotter with each passing moment. 

"God, you sound so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. "I could listen to you all night." Y/N's moans grew louder, more urgent, as Dean's hands explored every inch of her body with a reverence that bordered on worship. Each touch sent sparks flying.  

“I need to feel you.” he murmured against her neck.  

Their breath mingled in the quiet of the night, the heat of their passion igniting a fire that burned hot between them. 

Dean's fingers traced lazy patterns along Y/N's skin, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through her body. With each touch, she felt herself melting into him, her desire building with every caress. 

Feeling the undeniable heat radiating from Y/N's core, Dean couldn't resist the urge to explore further. His hand trailed down her body, his fingers dancing lightly over her hips before slipping between her thighs. 

Y/N gasped as Dean's touch sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, her body arching instinctively towards him. With a soft groan, Dean pressed his hard length against her folds, teasing her with the promise of ecstasy. 

"God, you feel so good," Dean whispered, his voice husky with desire as he rubbed himself against her, his movements sending waves of pleasure crashing over her. 

Y/N moaned in response, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrendered herself to the delicious friction. "You want this, don't you?" Dean murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased her mercilessly, his words stoking the flames of her arousal. 

Y/N could only nod in response, her body trembling with anticipation as she surrendered herself completely to the ecstasy of their shared desire. ”Y-yes, please Dean. Please.”  

With a low growl of satisfaction, Dean plunged himself deep inside her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through them both. 

Y/N couldn't help but curse under her breath as she felt the fullness of Dean inside her, his size stretching her in the most delicious way. She clenched around him, her body instinctively responding to him.  

Dean groaned at the sensation, his muscles on his back tensing, while he placed his face in her neck. He leaned into her touch, flexing beneath her hand as she caressed the tense muscles.  

"Fuck, Y/N," Dean breathed, his voice rough with desire as he buried himself deeper inside her.  

Dean's movements slowed, each thrust deliberate and purposeful, the sensation of being one with Y/N was better than he had ever hoped for. With each deep, deliberate movement, he ensured she felt every inch of him, his body moving in perfect harmony with hers. 

Earning every moan or sigh.  

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt Dean's slow and steady pace, her body responding eagerly to his every touch. "God, Dean," Y/N gasped, her voice husky with desire as she met his gaze with a hunger that matched his own. "You feel so good inside me." 

Dean groaned in response "Fuck, Y/N," Dean whispered, his voice rough with desire "Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Tell me what you want." 

Y/N grinned, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you to fuck me senseless, Dean. I want to feel every inch of you inside me, driving me wild with pleasure." 

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "That’s so fucking hot." 

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through Dean's veins. "You haven't seen anything yet, baby," she teased, her voice dripping with promise as she trailed kisses along his jawline. 

Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he felt himself growing harder with each passing moment. "Then show me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Show me everything you've got." 

With a playful smile, Y/N shifted her position, straddling Dean's hips as she positioned herself above him. 

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he watched her with hungry eyes, his hands reaching out to grasp her hips as she lowered herself onto him. With a slow, deliberate movement, she sank down onto his cock. 

Y/N moaned softly as she began to move, her hips rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm as she rode him with a skill that left him breathless. With each thrust, each movement, she felt herself spiralling closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, her mind consumed with the overwhelming need for release. 

Dean groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips. Feeling Y/N tightening around him, Dean knew she was on the brink of orgasm, and he wanted nothing more than to join her in the ecstasy of release.  

With a primal growl, he guided her movements, urging her to ride him harder, faster, as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear. "That's it, sweetheart," Dean groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Ride me harder sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart around me." 

Y/N's moans filled the room as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her body, her movements becoming more urgent as she chased the elusive peak of ecstasy.  

Dean's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. "You're so fucking sexy," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I want to come with you, sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart in my arms." 

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling with anticipation as she rode him harder, faster, her movements driving him to the brink of madness. 

As Dean felt Y/N's body tighten around him in the throes of her orgasm, he couldn't hold back any longer. With a primal growl, he thrust up into her. He buried himself deep inside her, becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. 

He sits up wrapping his arms around her as he feels his own release. Y/N cried out as she felt him release inside her, her body trembling with the intensity of their shared climax. She collapsed against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode out the waves of pleasure crashing over her. 

His arms still wrapped around her as they clung to each other in the aftermath of their passion. Their bodies pressed close, they shared heavy breaths, their hearts pounding in sync. 

Dean's voice was husky with desire as he whispered in Y/N's ear, his breath warm against her skin. "God, that, you, were better than I remembered," he admitted. Y/N's heart swelled with warmth at his words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she leaned into him.  

"You're not so bad yourself, Winchester," she teased, her voice filled with affection and adoration. 

Dean chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he held her close. "I guess we make a pretty good team," he mused, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. 

Dean's touch was gentle as he caressed Y/N's thighs and hips, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they lay together in the quiet of the room. But as Y/N voiced her worries about someone hearing them, Dean's expression turned possessive, a fierce glint in his eyes. 

"Let them hear," Dean growled softly, his voice low and filled with determination. "Let them know that you're mine." 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins as she met his gaze. "Yours?"  

She had never seen this side of Dean before, and the intensity of his possessiveness sent a shiver of desire down her spine.  

Dean's voice was tinged with uncertainty as he spoke. "At least if you want to be my girl," he murmured, his words filled with vulnerability as he laid bare his fears. 

Her fingers reaching out to gently brush against his cheek. "Dean," she whispered softly, her gaze filled with tenderness and affection. "I don't want just one night with you. I want every night. I want forever." 

"You do?" he asked, Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with sincerity. "I do," she affirmed, her voice filled with conviction. "I want to be yours, Dean. Completely, utterly your" 

A relieved smile spread across Dean's face as he pulled her closer into his arms, holding her so close as if he never wanted to let her go. "Then you're mine," he whispered, his voice filled with certainty. "Forever and always." 

They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, almost falling asleep. Y/N’s phone rings: Foreigner I've been waiting for girl liek you, started to play. 

Dean looks at Y/N, they stare at each other for a second before they started laughing. 

Knowing this was a sign.  

-----------

Song lyrics : Foreigner - Waiting for a girl like you

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:

@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @yvonneeeee

-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

[shineon3]

I have no control impulse. Inspired by this masterpiece from the lovely @blamemma (also hello @summer04rayne @jisblooming <3)

Or how I ended up writing a streamer!Max AU

° ° °

“What's got you smiling like that, mate?”

Max blinks, zoning back into the conversation.

“What?”

Alex, his best friend, the traitor, chuckles at his confusion, and when he looks at his screen, the chat is doing so too. Max flushes, quickly locking his phone before focusing back on the stream. Alex is grinning widely at him on the screen. Ugh, what a pain.

“Tell us, Maxy, come on, what got you giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush, eh?”

That fucker! Alex laughs knowingly, and the chat goes wild as usual when they get to tease him, and Max knows he'll have to answer now. He clears his throat, trying to sound as unruffled as possible.

“I just- found a really cool looking Instagram page, that's all…”

The Thai's grin somehow widens even more, almost shark-like, and Max just dug his own grave, didn't he?

“Yeah? Wouldn't it happen to be a certain travel vlogger's page, perchance, Maxy?”

The blonde feels heat rising in his face, and he doesn’t need to look into the screen to know that he's blushing furiously. It's probably spreading to his neck too, god. Max hides his face in his hands, embarrassment making his skin crawl. Him and his big mouth and his lack of self-control when it comes to a certain curly haired brunette.

“That's- it's not- ugh!”

He stumbles over his words, and he hears Alex laugh harder in his headset. He knows it's good natured, though, and that's the only thing keeping him from just ending the call.

“Tell them more about Daniel, Max! Look how excited they are, you can't deny them that, come on!”

Max shakes his head, drinks a sip of his Red Bull to try and regain his composure. Alex got the chat involved now, and that means he can’t just brush it off. Well, he could, and honestly, apart from some trolls here and there, his little community is really nice and understanding, and they know not to push on things if Max doesn't want to elaborate. But… this is kind of harmless, he guesses, so he can play their game a bit.

The blonde sighs, glancing at the chat, and yeah, they're going wild. Thanks, Alex

“I don't even know why I'm friends with you, at this point.”

“Don't say that! I know you love my pretty face and my humor.”

° ° °

Half an hour later, Max wraps up the stream, a faint blush lingering on his cheeks after all that had happened during what Alex had described as “gushing over Daniel for more than ten minutes”.

He gets up, tidying his desk, throwing away the empty Red Bull cans and water bottles, as well as any wrapper he could find. Finally, he leaves his streaming room, shutting off all the lights and closing the door.

There's no sounds in the small apartment, which probably means his roommate is already asleep. It's like, 3am, so, fair. Max gets ready for bed before slipping under the covers, practically melting on the soft mattress. Just as he reaches for his phone to plug it to charge, he sees it.

Daniel Ricciardo uploaded a new video

He clicks on it with neck breaking speed, a beginning of shame curling in his gut when he sees it was posted barely thirty seconds ago. He likes it, saves it in a playlist for good measure, and lets Daniel's australian accent drown his self-loathing and lull him to sleep.

[prettys0bbing]

just read ur gymcrush!rafe jerking off blurb… all i can think about is steamy sauna sex with rafe now 😔

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“is it okay if i join you?” you ask him gently, holding a towel around yourself while giving him the shy smile he loves so much. “huh?” he responds, not wanting to make his previous actions obvious. you point to a spot on the bench next to him, tilting your head to the side. he clears his throat and nods, gaining his composure back. you sit next to him, loosening your grip around the towel and letting it loosely hang around you. “it really does get hot fast doesn’t it?” you point out, trying your best to fill the silence.

rafe snaps himself out of staring at the peek of your chest that he’s getting to answer you. “it’s a sauna, that’s its job.” he says flatly, before noticing how your face falls. you move a little further on the bench, leaning back to stretch your arm out before wincing. “you okay?” he asks immediately. “yeah i think so. i just fucked my shoulder a little bit i think.” you say, reaching a hand behind your back to rub your shoulder. “let me see.” you look at him shocked for a moment, before turning your back to him and moving your hair out of the way. “lemme know if i go too hard.” he mumbles, placing one of his hands on your shoulder blade.

as rafe starts to give you a massage, you can feel the tension leaving your muscle. his fingers dig a little deeper into your body and you let out a soft moan. rafe freezes immediately, replaying the sound over and over in his mind. “are you done?” you ask softly, no clue what’s going on with him. he shakes his head before continuing his movements. “you uh- you distracted me.” he admits, enjoying the way your skin feels underneath his fingers. you giggle softly, looking up at him with doe eyes. “your hands feel really nice.”

“yeah?” rafe grunts, already struggling to keep his cool while watching your towel loosen from around your body. after a few moments, it begins to unravel before you catch it. “is it okay if i just take this off for a minute? i don’t want it to get in your way at all. “im not gonna complain.” he admits, leaning on one of his hands as he watches you. you blush slightly, placing the towel next to you and leaving you in just your undergarments. you turn to face him, tilting your head to the side as you watch his eyes drink in your body. “see something you like?” you joke, trying to stop the heat rising in your body. “yeah, all of it.” rafe moves closer to you as he speaks, not stopping until he’s right next to you. “you know what you’re doing don’t you? you want me just as much as i want you.” he teases, watching the way your thighs squeeze together as he speaks.

“no clue what you’re talking about.” you lie, breath hitching as his hand lightly traces over your thigh. “yea? so you don’t want me to touch you?” he asks, taking his hand away. before he can fully move away, you grab his hand. “maybe..i do want you. if i did, what would happen?” you look at him, still slightly nervous and in disbelief. “if you did, id open these pretty legs and check how wet you are for me. then id play with your pussy, letting you know just how good i am. and then id take you right here to make sure i live up to all your fantasies.” he whispers, trailing his fingers along a wet spot on your underwear.

you shudder, feeling the slight pressure he’s using. he looks at you while hooking a finger underneath the band of your panties and you nod. he pulls them down with a swift motion before using two of his fingers to swipe along your slit. “so fuckin wet for me. you really want it huh?” he teases, leaning you back along the bench as he spreads you out and watches you clench around nothing. rafe uses his thumb and presses light circles into your clit, watching how you begin to squirm underneath him. without stopping, he slips one of his fingers into you, sliding in effortlessly and making you arch your back at the intrusion. he adds another one before he begins slowly pumping his hand into you, causing you to whine loudly. “gonna have to be quieter than that baby.” he teases, speeding his movements up.

“fuck rafe, i need more of you.” you beg, grabbing onto the bench as his thumb presses into you harder. “all you had to do was ask.” he grants your wish, thrusting into you harder as he curls his fingers up slightly. he palms himself through his underwear, his towel long abandoned on the floor. he can feel you clenching around his fingers, squeezing him tightly. “that feel good huh? you like that?” he asks in a teasing tone, loving the way you react. he can feel you getting close and pulls his hand out, ignoring your complaints as he taps his fingers on your mouth, signaling for you to open up. you listen, opening your mouth and letting him shove his fingers into your tongue.

you lick his fingers clean while he uses his free hand to pull his underwear down. rafe wraps his hand around his cock, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and steadying himself by grabbing onto your hip as he lines himself up with your entrance. he stares down as he pushes himself in, drinking in your sweet moans as he stretches you out. “gotta be quieter baby. everyones gonna hear you falling apart on my cock.” you nod, biting on your lip to keep yourself from crying out as he drills into you. you can feel your release quickly approaching, already close from his actions before. “gonna cum rafe!” you moan, making him cover your mouth with one of his hands as he continues to fuck into you.

he can feel his own release catching up to him with the way you’re squeezing around him. “fuck baby. cmon, cum all over my cock. show me how good it is.” he grunts. you arch up against him, body spasming as your release finally hits you. he can feel you practically milking him as you clench around him, your hands scratching along his back as he helps you ride out your high. he can feel his stomach tighten as he spills into you, coating your insides. you both freeze for a moment, the gravity of the situation hitting you before he pulls his hand away from your mouth. “that was better than my fantasies.” you breath out, looking at him with a fucked out grin.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[an-impulsive-pen]

Hair

Elliot X GN reader

Elliot decides his spouse needs to take better care when washing their hair, so he takes things into his own hands!

Fluff, a tiny bit suggestive at the end

“We really should trim the ends, too, you know,” Elliot sighed as he guided his partner to sit and lean their head back over the running sink. They huffed. “I can wash my own hair, y’know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Elliot mumbled. “Tell me if the water’s too hot.” “It’s fine,” they shifted in their seat. “... You really don’t have to do this.” “I beg to differ,” he said, arranging the shampoo and conditioner he planned to use on the counter. “You work out on the farm all day, sweating and building up dirt and grime. You really should take better care of your hair if you intend to keep it like this. And, frankly,” he took his spouse’s hand and lifted it to his lips, “I’ve grown quite fond of it like this,” he grinned and kissed their knuckles softly.

The farmer’s face flushed, but there was no more argument. “Alright, here we go,” Elliot smiled as he began rinsing their hair. “Just relax and let me pamper you for a while.”

With a soft exhale, they did just as they were told. They melted instantly as they felt Elliot’s fingers running through their hair, massaging his scalp.

“... Feels nice?” He asked. The farmer hummed softly in confirmation, earning a small chuckle from Elliot. “Good. I’m glad. I’m going to start with the shampoo, alright?” “Okay,” they nodded the little bit that they could with their head tilted back.

They shivered slightly as they felt the cool of the shampoo contrasting the warm water. Elliot smiled down at them as he worked the shampoo through their hair, making sure not a strand was missed. “... This is nice,” he said. His partner looked up at him.

“... Yeah…?”

“Yes. Your hair is nice, and…” his voice softened a little. “... I enjoy feeling like *I’m* taking care of *you* for once.”

“What do you mean?” they asked. Elliot sighed as he began rinsing their hair. “... You spend so much time working. My writing helps, sure, but the farm is our only *consistent* income. You’re the reason we have this roof over our heads and food on our table. I just… I like feeling like I’m contributing in some way.”

The two sat without speaking for a moment, only the sound of running water filling the silence. The farmer finally broke the quiet as Elliot reached for the conditioner. “You’re *always* taking care of me,” they murmured.

Elliot paused and looked down at them questioningly.

“... You’re the one I get to see every morning when I get up, and every night in bed. You help around the farm, and you’re always here for me. You go out of your way to do all these big, romantic gestures, and you… You make me feel *cared about*,” they said softly. Elliot hesitated before giving a small smile. “... I’m glad you think so, dearest,” he said, beginning to apply the conditioner. “I want nothing more than to make you feel loved and cared for.” “Well, you’re really good at that,” their face flushed, and they let their eyes fall shut again. Elliot chuckled.

“Good. You deserve it, love,” he hummed. “So just relax, and let me spoil you.” His partner smiled softly. After a moment they opened their eyes. “... Is that… Pomegranate scented?” “Only the best for my beloved,” he grinned down at them playfully. They laughed softly. “Well, thank you,” they looked up at him. “... Even though I could’ve just taken a shower and washed my hair.” “I don’t know if I trust how thorough you’ll be on your own,” Elliot smirked. “If you like, though, we can certainly do this in the shower next time…”

[bomber-grl]

hi could I be able to request number 8. embracing them from behind for leo valdez? or if that one's closed by the time you get to this (it's probably popular cuz it's super cute ^-^), then number 30. Laying their head on the other's shoulder also works.

My request is something with some mild angst comfort, maybe Leo is having a stressful day and sees reader turned away from him, and he decides to help himself to some behind-hugs (feel free to adapt that to 30 if that's what you use, also if you wanna switch reader and Leo's places that's cool too). thank you so much I love your writing a lot, its seriously helped me and made me smile through a rough week this week (sorry for making this super long)

Prompt #8: embracing them from behind

The week was long and tiring. You and Leo hadn’t been able to meet lately and when you did it was because of something.

Either monsters, missions, or something just going wrong.

It was a mess and in all the chaos you were finally able to find a calm and quiet place to relax: a place near the lake.

You weren’t the only one affected either, Leos usually cheery demeanor and vibrant light dimmed as exhaustion took its place.

He was really affected- actually. He was skilled and it was no wonder why he was occupied all the time.

Your thoughts stopped swarming you as you picked up on the sound of footsteps against rocks and stray sticks snapping.

It should’ve been scary, it was night but you knew whose footsteps those belonged to.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Leos familiar voice rang, loud in comparison to the previous silence.

“Nothing, just relaxing, I guess…” you began playing with the dirt.

Usually sounds of laughter, teasing and jokes would be heard but right now you just needed to be near each other.

He got closer and sat behind you as he wrapped his arms around your your shoulders and stuck his face into the crevice of your neck.

You let out a pathetic laugh, “you tired?”

He let out a mumbled “yea” but then stepped back from his position to stand in front of where you were seated.

Your confusion was short lived as he sat down and spoke once more.

“Can you hold me too?”

Despite the fact that you were both facing each other you somehow ended up switching positions, with you embracing him and now him being embraced.

This time, however, you were both leaning back against a stray log and he was laying in your arms.

Sand was all over the place but despite being near the lake and night, it still held the warmth of the day.

Luckily your hands weren’t a victim of the sand, and so you lifted your right one to play with his hair while your left one remained on his chest.

Mostly because Leo was holding onto it.

“Feels nice” his voice was raspy and his drooping eyes showed how truly spent he was.

“Go to bed, you’re tired ” you spoke without a second thought to your surroundings.

Worst case scenario you’ll wake up by some harpies, maybe Chiron. You’ll get teased by campers, that’s it.

Worst case because if something were to be a danger, you could defend you and Leo.

Leo finally cracked a smile and began giggling at your command. “Really?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm.

You playfully smacked his shoulder and chose to ignore it. “Yea, I’m going to sleep too I don’t care if we become the laughing stocks for a few days. As long as you’re here with me is all that matters.”

He hummed “Kay’ me too then” he yawned “ I never really cared either.

You both fell asleep near the lake and when you both awoke you were lucky and watched the sun rise.

Then scolded for not returning to your cabins last night, dish duty for you!

-

A/n: I’m glad my writing helped you and that you enjoy my posts, it makes me happy. Also don’t worry for how long it is, it’s fine :)

[backgroundagent3]

for the character ask, daisy johnson!

Thank you so much for the ask! 💜 I love any excuse to talk about Daisy Johnson.

First impression: I'm trying to squeeze my brain here, but all I remember was trying not to like her at first because I knew se was a double agent for the Rising Tide. It goes without saying I failed miserably about three episodes in.

Impression now: She is my favourite character of all time.

Favorite moment: I really can't choose, but one that comes to mind was the final fight of season 5. I think it's a very underrated fight scene, because it's the end of the world, her dad is dying, she has been recently betrayed and tortured by her friend, and she still goes into battle BY HERSELF against Talbot, and if that wasn't bad enough, when she's about to die a horrible death she realises that the only way she can save the world is if she takes the serum and basically condemns the person she loves most to his death. It's so heartbreaking and poetic, but very cool to watch, and I just love so much it, idk.

Idea for a story: This is angsty but I would love to read something where the events of 5.14 are properly dealt with. May watches the security cameras and goes ballistic on Fitz, and Daisy gets time to grieve and heal. They get Coulson back and he's horrified, and Jemma is so conflicted but she's there for her best friend.

Unpopular opinion: Since apparently I can't stop thinking about season 5, here's some more. I think she actually did a good job of leading the team in season 5b. Especially if you consider that she's been recently tortured, her family doesn't seem to care, she has no experience, and hasn't gotten a good nights sleep in about 5 years. She might be tough, but hello? IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?? You have to be at least a little bossy if you wanna make it through that. Also if you're gonna be a baby and call her a hard ass maybe you should have thought twice before joining SHIELD.

Favorite relationship: If it's romantic, then Sousa. I love them so so much, they're literally perfect and despite my obvious outrage at season 5, I will forever love the AoS writers for somehow pulling that off. As for platonic relationships, I'd say May. She's the perfect mother figure for her, and I love the parallels between them. I think Daisy has the best relationships in general, but this one is my favourite. Honourable mentions go to Coulson for being the most unhinged dad ever, and to Jemma for being the sweetest friend in the earlier seasons.

Favorite headcanon: before she goes off to space at the end of season 7, she rebuilds Afterlife with the help of Sousa and Kora. I've said this before, but I think they are actually the perfect team to do this. Kora has lived in Afterlife her whole life, she's seen Jiaying help people go through Terrigenesis, and she's been though it herself in a much healthier and safer environment than Daisy. Sousa is reasonable and calm, which are good qualities to have when you're helping someone who's terrified and potentially dangerous. He has experience leading people, which I think would make him a good mentor for the Inhumans. So Kora has the experience, Sousa has the qualities, and in my opinion, Daisy has a nice combination of the two. She has a different and much more horrifying experience of Terrigenesis that people who accidentally go though it can relate to, and she has spent years exploring and controlling her powers, so she knows what the deal is. And she's also a good leader, so where Sousa can help the Inhumans pre-Terrigenesis, she can train them after if that's what they want. Because that's another thing, SHIELD may be funding Afterlife, but they've learnt their lesson and they're not sticking their noses where they shouldn't. They accept new recruits and help train them, but if that's not what the Inhumans want, then SHIELD helps them get settled back into their normal lives. Anyways this got long but it's one of my favourite headcanons, so there you go.

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry for rambling, but I have a lot to say about Daisy. 🌼💛

Character Asks.