#help. the second answer is so incomprehensible

[helpfulbug]

hii luna!! 😢 and 💖 for the music emoji ask!

hiiii lulu.....this took me sooooo long but here we gooooo

😢 A Song that makes you cry:

its liquid smooth by mitski. i literally cant play that shit in public its sooo over for me every time. also テリフリアメ (The Rain from Light and Shadow) by ichiko aoba, its not a sad song but i listened to it a lot in my mental spirals so now its like a tear jerker for me. i still love it and the entire album a lot tho.

💖A Guilty Pleasure song:

now. i normally just say you like whatever music you like but. recently i rewatched buffy the vampire slayer (idk. i dont think you can tell by looking at my blog at all.) and that means i also rewatched the musical episode of buffy. i WILL say it IS a good musical episode but to me musicals are something i listen to 2000000 times a day or something i dont wanna hear and is so cringe to me. so i kept listening to the buffy musical songs on the private browser bc i dont want them in my spotify history im sorry musical fans i cannot commit and become a true theater kid idk why im shy i guess.

also idk how but i have schlager on my most listened songs now (sorry this wont mean shit to you if youre not german) but WHY. is mickie krause on there.

for an actual answer to this one tho. i recently spiraled and listened to style by taylor swift one billion times. its soooo nothing and 80s nostalgia baiting but so lame but also. something about it is.....captivating

(ask game link)

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by a nate bargatze sketch

Eddie’s least favorite thing people say when they find out he’s gay and married to a man is when they ask who the “man” of their house is, because…it’s fucking stupid and wouldn’t be funny even if it didn’t rely on patriarchal bullshit that Eddie didn’t buy into even before he and Steve had three daughters.

The thing is though…there definitely is a man of their house, and it’s Steve.

And if Steve isn’t home, it’s their oldest daughter, Moe.

Eddie knows this is true because there’s someone coming to their house to work on…something. All Eddie caught when Steve brought it up was, “We’ve been in this house for almost twenty years. I’d rather deal with it now than wait until it’s causing problems.”

So it’s either the roof, the water heater, or the furnace.

(He thinks).

Every once in a while Eddie gets frustrated enough about this to want to get more involved – he helped Wayne out with this shit all the time when he was a teenager, and he worked as a mechanic well into his twenties (up until he got his first book deal and was able to quit and write full-time). It’s not that Eddie can’t understand all that stuff – no, it’s Steve insisting that he take on all that kind of stuff in their life together so that Eddie didn’t have to that did it, and now it’s been so long since he exercised that part of his brain that it’s basically gone dormant.

The nail in the coffin is when Steve says, “If he shows up before I get back – do not engage. Get Moe. She knows what this is all about.”

She totally does, is the thing, so Eddie just replies, “Got it,” and prays that Steve gets home from the hardware store before the contractor arrives (is he a contractor? Eddie doesn’t think he even knows what a contractor is).

Naturally, not even five minutes after Steve pulls out of the driveway, a dark blue van pulls in.

“Ah, shit,” Eddie mumbles, and then he calls upstairs, “Moe. The guy Pop was talking about is here.”

Moe calls something incomprehensible back (hopefully it’s I’ll be down in a second) because by the looks of it this guy is already halfway to the front door.

Unfortunately for Eddie, Moe is not down in a second and he ends up in a conversation about water heaters with…not a contractor, he’s pretty sure. A plumber, maybe? Doesn’t matter – just a guy who’s gonna fix – or maybe it’s replace? – their water heater…for some reason.

“So where’s the heater?” the not-contractor-maybe-plumber asks.

“Uhh…” Eddie hesitates, and thank Christ, Moe appears at the top of the stairs.

“Basement,” she says, “Anode rod was replaced three years ago but the rest of it’s been there since we moved here in ‘04.”

The guy launches into a whole water heater spiel, and Eddie realizes halfway through he’s not trying to engage with Moe at all. He’s directing it all at Eddie as if Eddie is hearing anything more than Charlie Brown-esque phone call mumbling. He concludes with a question about…something related to tanks maybe? Or maybe it was tankless. Eddie has no idea. Moe answers it because she knows what the hell this guy is talking about, but still this asshole is looking at Eddie for confirmation.

“Dude, I dunno why you're looking at me,” Eddie tells him, and then he points at Moe, “My daughter works on airplanes. I write books. I'm telling you – you're better off listening to her.”

[pucksandpower]

Under the Influence

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc knows three things (1) wisdom teeth have nothing to do with being wise (2) his face looks like a chipmunk and (3) he really really really loves his girlfriend

Warnings: mention of minor medical procedure

You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Bleary eyed, you reach for it and squint at the screen. 37 missed calls and too many texts to count, all from Charles.

It’s the big day — your boyfriend is finally getting his wisdom teeth removed this morning. You had wanted to go with him to the oral surgeon but Charles insisted he would be fine on his own.

Clearly, that was not the case.

The phone starts vibrating again and you swipe to answer. Before you can even say hello, Charles’ slurred voice comes through the speaker. “Ma choupinette! I misssss you!” He draws out the last word for several seconds. You stifle a laugh at how loopy he sounds from the painkillers.

“Hi, my love. How are you feeling?” You ask gently.

You hear some shuffling on his end of the line.

“I feel ... so good! I can’t feel my face though. Is it still there?” More shuffling noises. “Yep, still here! Wow, my cheeks are soooo big and fluffy now!” He descends into a fit of giggles.

You grin and shake your head. Your poor Charles is definitely still under the influence of the drugs. “I’m glad you’re not in any pain. Are you home already?”

“Yep! Safe and sound in my bed. But it’s so lonely without you here. You should come over and cuddle me!” His words come out muffled, no doubt because his mouth is still numb.

You glance at the clock — it’s still relatively early in the morning. “I would love to but I have a few things to take care of first. I’ll come by this afternoon to check on you though, okay?”

Charles lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Fiiiiiine. Hey, did you know you’re the most beautiful girl in the whole world? And you’re so nice too! I’m the luckiest ...” He trails off into incomprehensible mumbling.

You have to press your hand to your mouth to hold in your laughter. Anesthetized Charles is even more adorable than regular Charles. “Thank you, my love. You’re very kind. Now get some rest, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okayyyy, bye bye gorgeous!” Charles singsongs before hanging up. Still chuckling, you set your phone down to start getting ready for the day. Your productivity is short lived however, as your phone immediately starts buzzing again.

Charles is calling you back.

With a mix of amusement and exasperation, you answer the call. Before you can ask what’s wrong, Charles’ cheerful voice exclaims, “I forgot to tell you I love you!”

You can’t help but laugh out loud this time. “I love you too, Charles.”

“Yay!” He cheers. In the background, you hear a woman’s voice telling Charles to stay in bed and get some rest. It must be his mother looking after him. Thank goodness for her help today.

You talk Charles into hanging up and leaving you be for now. As entertaining as loopy Charles is, you do need to run some errands. You eventually make it out the door and head into town. While perusing the aisles of the grocery store, your phone buzzes again. Expecting it to be Charles, you don’t even look at the screen before answering with an amused, “Yes, my love?”

Instead of your boyfriend’s sleepy voice, you hear numerous screams and squeals on the other end. Before you can ask what’s happening, the chaos turns into a bunch of people chanting “Say it again! Say it again! Say it again!”

Your stomach drops. You pull the phone away to look at the screen. Sure enough, Charles is broadcasting on Instagram Live and waving at an alarmingly large crowd of fans gathered below his apartment. Dreading what you’re about to witness, you bring the phone back to your ear. The chanting continues until Charles finally obliges.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you sooooo much! You’re the bestest, most bootiful, charming girl in the whole universe and I love you more than racing!” His confession is met with deafening squeals from his adoring devotees. You stand frozen in the cheese aisle, one hand clutching your grocery basket, cheeks flaming red. This is not exactly how you hoped your relationship would go public.

Charles is still slurring sluggishly into the phone, rambling on about how perfect and wonderful you are. You try to get a word in edgewise to stop him but his fans keep egging him on.

“Charles, honey, maybe you should get off Live and rest ...” you attempt feebly.

He gasps dramatically. “Wait, are you my girlfriend? Y/N? Is that you?”

You sigh, resigned to your fate. “Yes Charles, it’s me.”

The screams somehow increase in volume at this admission. Charles laughs with delight. “Guys, this is my girlfriend! Isn’t she the coolest? I’m the luckiest guy ever!”

Despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but melt a little at his ear-to-ear grin and heart eyes on the screen. He looks utterly smitten, even in his disoriented, post-op state. His fans seem to be eating it up too, flooding the comments with things like “My life won’t be complete until someone looks at me the way that Charles looks at Y/N” and “Charles is boyfriend of the year!”

You spend the next 15 minutes gently trying to persuade Charles to end the livestream and rest to no avail. He is having far too much fun gushing about you and interacting with his followers. You field a few questions from curious fans, keeping your answers light to avoid revealing too much. It’s clear they are enthralled by this lovestruck version of the normally private Ferrari driver.

Finally, after Charles has told the story of your first date no less than five times, his mother comes to your rescue. She appears on camera and tenderly tells Charles the “show” is over and he needs to sleep. He pouts adorably but allows her to tuck him back into bed and take away his phone. Just before the Live ends, he blows a loopy kiss to the camera and says “Love you, mon chouchou!” The fans go wild in the chat before the feed cuts out.

You slump against your shopping cart in relief. Your phone is already flooded with texts from friends and family who saw the Instagram fiasco. You shoot off some quick reassurances that you’re both fine and it was just the medication talking. Bagging the rest of your abandoned groceries, you check out as fast as possible. There’s somewhere you need to be right now.

Twenty minutes later you’re knocking on the door of Charles’ apartment. His mother opens it with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry about earlier dear, the anesthesia made him a bit out of it as I’m sure you noticed.”

Charles perks up when you enter his bedroom. “You came!” He mumbles happily, making grabby hands at you. You settle onto the bed next to him and he immediately nuzzles into you like an affectionate kitten. His mother slips out to give you two some privacy.

You run your fingers soothingly through his hair. “How are you feeling now, my love?”

“Mmm ... sleepy. And really happy you’re here." He smiles dopily up at you. “Did I do something silly earlier? I don’t really remember.”

You debate downplaying it but figure he’ll find out eventually when the internet explodes. “You may have repeatedly declared your undying love for me on an Instagram Live ...” you say sheepishly.

Charles’ eyes go wide. “No way, really? Wow ...” He blinks slowly, processing this new information. A sly grin spreads across his swollen face. “Well it’s true. I meant every word.”

You kiss his forehead tenderly. “I know you did. Now get some more rest, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Charles looks up at you adoringly. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you more,” you boop him on the nose.

He giggles. “No way. I love you more-er.”

“Impossible. I love you most,” you insist.

“Nuh-uh,” Charles protests. “I love you most-est.”

You laugh at his stubborn persistence. “Alright, you win. Now close your eyes.”

Charles snuggles impossibly closer into your side and soon his breathing evens out as he drifts back to sleep. You brush a few curls off his forehead and whisper “I love you most-est-est.”

You make sure the blankets are wrapped securely around him and shake your head affectionately at your adorable, clueless boyfriend. Today certainly didn’t go as expected but you wouldn’t trade your Charles for anything in the world.

[tired-biscuit]

It's no secret that in a relationship with Yuji, movie nights with him are a common thing. But with his twisted taste in films, there's an 80% chance that it will be an underground incomprehensible crap, understandable only to him <:) And, like, even such a pastime with him is pleasant, but, you know, you need to entertain yourself too, right? Just imagine his face when he's really interested in the plot of the movie, but you're next to him jerking him off or something like that. Bro sincerely wants to know if alien Joe can help his shark friend with work in office, but you are gradually drawing his attention to yourself and it is more difficult than ever to resist you

now i’m just imagining him with his arm around you, pulling you close into his side as you kiss the side of his neck. you’re sucking on and nipping the sensitive skin there every so often just so that you can watch him tense up whenever you come close to creating a hickey that he’ll surely have to hide from his friends in the morning, and it’s the cutest thing ever.

but what’s even cuter is that despite the focused expression that he’s desperately trying to upkeep on his pretty boy face, yuuji’s eyes insist on rolling into the back of his head each time your hand gives a slow up and down movement to his cock. by the time you squeeze it at the head a little bit, honey irises are already disappearing behind fluttering eyelids and there’s a low hiss escaping through gritted teeth.

the whole thing had started as innocent petting over the thigh, executed purely out of boredom because he’d made you watch a sequel to a crappy movie you’ve never seen in the first place, however it didn’t take you long to take it a step further and turn it into full-blown stroking over his underwear — the sole intent behind it now being to distract him and turn him hard and heavy underneath your hand as a form of punishment.

and he’s exactly that: hard, heavy and distracted. so horny that he feels the need to pant a little bit, too. not a single word is exchanged between you — he’s still trying so hard to keep his eyes on the movie, after all — and yet your boyfriend’s grey sweatpants are slowly being pushed lower and lower; until they’re low enough for his light happy trail to become exposed, as well as the entirety of his dick.

the room is dark aside from the television that you’re both supposed to be watching, but the screen provides enough light for you to see just how much his cock is twitching under your touch now, as well as the glimmer of pre-cum that leaks from the tip, threatening to drip onto your fingers.

he’s pink and flushed in the face the exact same way the tip of him is. sweaty and jittery and so fucking impatient.

seemingly all on their own, his hips buck upwards so that he has a better chance at fucking your fist. immediately, your grip tightens in answer, pace quickening and providing him with more friction that feels like it’ll make his brain explode with such force that it’ll consequently cause his skull to shatter to itty bitty pieces. it pulls a prolonged, breathless moan straight out of his throat, sending it up towards the ceiling because of the way he finally gives in and lets his head fall back against the backrest of the couch now.

however, that moan is nothing compared to the sweet whimper that he lets out the second you bend over his lap and take him into your mouth.

perhaps the horrible movie will be finished by the time you swallow his load... fingers crossed!

[dragonflavoredcake]

Tango, answering his phone at midnight: Hello?

Doc: Hey man, sorry if I woke you. Could I ask for a favor?

Tango: . . . Sure?

Doc: Little Doccy can't sleep; could you tell a quick story over speakerphone? They love listening to my recordings of your audio, but I'm having technical difficulties and can't get to them.

Tango, nearly in tears from the cuteness: . . . Little Doccy listens to us to fall asleep?

Doc: Yeah, but they really like you specifically. They call you the Dumb-Dumb Mister. Heh, I guess "Dungeon Master" is a little hard for a kid that age.

Tango: Oh, wow. Yeah, if it'll help them sleep, for sure.

Doc: Thanks! Okay, give me a second to put you on speaker.

Tango, on speakerphone: Hi, Doccy, it's Tango!

Little Doccy: Der Tango! Dumb-Dumb Mister!

Tango: Are you ready for a story about the first time your dad got to the Burning Dark?

Little Doccy: *incomprehensible happy squeals*

[30 minutes later]

Tango, in the Hermitcraft group chat: GUYS I'VE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY TO BE CALLED A DUMB-DUMB

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

Baby, be still for me

Summary: Miguel accidentally bites you, paralyzing you for a while...

Pairing: Miguel o'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, porn with no plot, overstimulation, fingering, oral (f!receiving), cockriding, p in v unprotected (always use protection guys!!!), small aftercare, Miguel!switch, reader!switch

A/n: this is definitely the filthiest thing I've ever written so I hope you all enjoy <3 (tagging @tripleyeeet because yes)

\_/

The bite had been an accident, or at least that was what Miguel told you.

Just below your jaw, so close to your jugular. You could still feel the sting, the slight pain and numbness where Miguel's fangs had dipped in your skin.

The paralyzing serum had worked quickly, more than what Miguel had anticipated. In less than a minute you found yourself completely still in bed, still breathing but unable to speak or move anything other than your eyelids.

"Do you want me to stop, nena?" Your breath quivered as he moved his hands down your waist, grabbing a handful of your thighs and pushing your legs open. "Blink once for yes," he whispered, his words accompanied by a shallow movement of his fingers along your inner thigh, "and two for no."

You blinked slowly, even your working muscles almost stuck in a haze. You hadn't opened your eyes back from the second blink that Miguel's tongue had already moved on your folds, lapping and sucking on your clit.

You tried to scream his name, but all that left your mouth were incomprehensible moans and grunts as Miguel's tongue slithered inside and out of you.

The first orgasm reached you quickly in a blurred ecstasy, followed by another one when his fingers finally entered your pussy and reached the spongy spot that his tongue didn't manage to.

Every nerve in your body screamed for more, to push your hips towards him and rock them in a symphony of movements, to grab his hair and pull his mouth on every inch of your skin they hadn't touched yet.

"¿Te gusta así, nena?"

His voice was low, a hot breath against your skin as his fingers kept pumping inside of you and his thumb circled relentlessly on your clit.

Some air left your lungs, intending to cry out a yes, but your lips still weren't collaborating. A needy and broken moan escaped your mouth, a visceral sound you didn't know was in you.

Another moan followed the first one though when Miguel stopped his motions.

"You gotta answer me, cariño." Wet fingers reached your chin up and pulled it down until you met his scarlet eyes. There was a wild rawness in them, that made your heart and core throb.

"Do you like this?" he asked again, his hands going back inside your slick folds but without ever breaking eye contact. "Yes or no?"

You blinked, your chest moving sharply up and down, and Miguel smirked devilishly.

"Muy bien," and he continued the siege of your pussy as his other hands played with your nipples.

You didn't know how long this went on, your mind was completely drunk with pleasure. Everything between your legs was red and puffy and so, so sensitive.

That's probably why you didn't even realize when your arms moved and your hands gripped Miguel's hair.

He raised his face, lips swollen and smudged with your juices, and another smirk appeared.

"Welcome back, sweetheart." He crawled towards you and kissed you — no, he ate your lips. You could taste yourself on his and somehow that set your core on fire once again.

"You treated me so well," you whispered breathless on his mouth, pulling him closer by the neck. As you did, you felt his cock resting on your belly, hard as a rock. "Now let me do something to help you."

Before he could say something or pin you against the mattress, you thrusted him on his back and sat on his erection.

Miguel opened his mouth to say something but a quiet moan was all that came out as you started grinding on it.

"I'm gonna ride your dick," you explained, the friction making you gasp for air for every word you uttered, "and you will stay there. No hands on me, nothing."

You moved from his penis and sat on his chest, wet from both your cum and his pre-cum. "Am I clear?"

Miguel nodded. "Sì, clarísima."

And as much as him speaking Spanish turned you on, you shook your head.

"Blink, love."

Another smirk pulled his lips upwards as he blinked.

"Muy bien."

When you finally guided his cock inside of you, you felt no resistance whatsoever. Your walls opened up as if they had been waiting for it and immediately sucked it in completely.

You and Miguel gasped together when his tip hit your spongy spot, and you heard him swear under his breath when your hips started thrusting.

"Joder!" he gasped as your sped up your motions, gripping his hair with one hand and the sheets with the other.

You threw your head back, your eyes closed as you simply fucked yourself into his cock. The sound of your bodies was an incoherent mix of squelching and gasping and swearing and your pussy almost hurt from all the prior overstimulation, but your mind was completely drunk on all of these sensations.

The knot inside your stomach was close to come undone, you just needed a little push, but you weren't alone in this.

You looked down on him as your hand went down to your clit and started circling it quickly.

"Gonna come for me, big boy?"

Miguel didn't wait for an answer. He pushed himself up, so that you were chest to chest and thursted into you a couple more times before he filled you up.

You followed soon after, eyes closed and limbs tired, and you let your forehead fall on Miguel's shoulder.

He kissed gently your salty skin, and you felt him smiling against it.

"What?"

"Nada," he shrugged, leaving the bed to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. "Just thinking I should bite you more often."

You chuckled, too tired to even think of a way to respond. You simply let him take care of you, as you always did.

\_/

Spanish translation:

Nena - baby

Cariño - darling

¿Te gusta así? - Do you like it like this?

Muy bien - Very good

Sì, clarísima - Yes, very clear

Joder - Fuck

[lyrenminth]

Watching the sunset together

Joe Burrow x reader

I hope you enjoy this post. happy season for everyone! Wishing the best for all players and teams.

When Joe announced the vacations to Cabo, you were grateful. After a long season, you could relax and enjoy each other's company.

You stayed in a fancy hotel, eat deliciously and spend a good time walking around. At nights, you went out to eat dinner, went to bed to talk or make puzzles together or have steamy sex on every flat source you could find. It was a nice vacation overall, and you enjoyed Joe's company without the stress was nice. During the off season's beginning Joe was more relaxed, as the time went by and the season was closer he was more grumpy, and during the season you didn't have so much communication because he was so stressed and focused in keeping the team in the game. It was unreal, and at the start of your relationship was a big problem for both. You disliked his personality after a bad game, and he didn't like how incomprehensible you could be. So you talked a lot. About many things. It helped to improve your relationship and the dynamics.

So here were you, watching the sunset in the balcony. Sunsets always made you feel nostalgic for some reason. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and you didn't want to start thinking about anything at all. The balcony's door opened and Joe appeared looking for you.

"Hey" he said, freshly showered. He was a little bit red around the cheeks and forehead, and you made fun of him for it a couple times before. He sat down next to you, your arms touching. "What are we doing?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Thinking about the meaning of life" you answered, seriously.

"Great, my favorite topic" he added, flat. You looked at his handsome face, smiling fondly. "You're such a beautiful shrimp" you teased him. "You won't even let me be, will you?" he answered back, the lines at the corners of his eyes appearing. "Why do you hate sunscreen so much?" you wondered.

"I applied sunscreen!" he replied, all outraged. "You need to apply it every two hours, Joe".

"I won't remember that" he decided.

You sighed, laying your head on his shoulder. The ocean was so beautiful, the red, orange and blue colors blending together, and the sun was split in half. The warm breeze caressed your face and you felt the urge to cry of happiness. It was so silly, but you felt so grateful for all things you got. Including Joe and his steady presence.

Joe always snapped you back to reality. As pragmatic as he was, he helped you to stay grounded. And as the dreamer you were, you help him to relax and enjoy. To see the other side.

Joe's hand searched for yours, his long fingers intertwined with yours. You felt your belly flutter in excitement. And you watched together the sun hide, and the moon rose and started shining. You were running your finger absentmindedly along scar of his knee while you were telling a childhood memory.

"You know what? I love this" he confessed after you finish telling the story about your first time on the beach "I like this a lot"

"What?"

"This" he waved a hand between both. "You made me feel cool"

You laughed. He wasn't romantic in his words, but you understood the meaning behind. The biggest compliment he had given to you was something about you feeling like a football match. "Thrilling, nice, intense" considering he was a football boy, you took it nicely.

"Thanks, you made me feel cool too"

"You know what I mean" he said, a bit embarrassed.

"Yes, I know love"

He kissed your forehead. "Are you hungry?"

"A little bit"

"We should order something or do you prefer to go down?" he asked. Another thing about Joe: he was very considerate about food. He always try to please you when you liked something. Once a bought ten boxes of the cookie brand you liked because you were dating Mr. Because I Can.

"I want to stay with you" you said. You didn't need to explain further.

"Okay, let's check the menu and order" you shiver from the mildly cold, and he ran a hand through your arm to warm you a little bit. "Let's go inside" he whispered in your ear. You felt something tingle between your legs.

You went inside, his phone started buzzing. It was his agent. "Can you order for me?" he apologize and left the room for privacy. You did as told. You laid on the couch, scrolling on your phone to kill time. Joe join you after a couple of minutes, he fell over you on the couch, hiding his face in the curve of your neck. His breath was heavy and warm against your skin.

"What does Matthew want?" you asked. Matt was his agent.

"He wants me to sign a new sponsor for the upcoming season" he said, kissing you neck slightly. You curled your toes, trying not to giggle.

"What type?" he raised his head at your question. His eyes were so blue under that light, and you could count every blond eyelash from there. "Jewelry. Bracelets" you ran your hands through his back, and cupping his ass. He didn't flinched, the opposite. He grinned and dive into a kiss. His tongue made its way inside your mouth, one hand running to your size, stopping at your breasts. You opened your legs to accommodate him between. You sighed feeling his erection against your inner thigh, hard and demanding.

"I'll have you for dinner" he said against your lips. Your hips started humping, looking for that delicious friction you needed. You were pulling his shirt up to undress him when you heard a ring.

And then another one.

"Fuck, who is it?" Joe said, gritted teeth.

"Dinner maybe" you whispered, frozen in place.

"Are you hungry?" your stomach took the perfect moment to answer that with a grumble. "Okay" he said laughing, sitting next to you.

"We have desert" you winked at him.

"Mmmm, I would love that" he said, standing up and reaching the door.

The dinner was delicious, and you spent a good time chatting and joking. Joe told you about his most recent reading, and you did your best to understand what he was saying. At midnight you were feeling sleepy, and so was he, both decided to skip the steamy sex session and have a good sleep.

"God, we're getting older" you mumbled, feeling him hug you from behind, and getting closer to you. He was really warm, and big and cuddly. "We choose to sleep over sex"

"It's fair" he said equally sleepy.

"Night" you whispered.

But he was fast asleep.

[temporaryrose200]

✩Without You✩

✟pairing: Yandere Kalim Al-Asim x GN Reader

✟genre: ⚠️Yandere⚠️

✟warning: ⚠️Mention Of Suicide Unhealthy Obsession, Toxic Relationship⚠️

✟One-Short

✟fandom: Twisted Wonderland

✟summary: Realising that your relationship with Kalim wasn’t healthy, you break up with him. It doesn’t go as planned…

You love Kalim, you truly do. He’s sweet, kind and thoughtful, what else could you ask for? But there was one problem. He was too clingy. Constantly stuck by your side, it was beginning to become unhealthy and slightly annoying. Sleepovers at his dorm started to become the usual. It was as though you were living there now. Whenever you tried bringing it up, Kalim would be quick to shut you down, changing the subject. But could only take those things for so long.

You rarely hung out with your friends anymore and when you did, Kalim was there by your side, with his ‘sweet innocent’ smile. You had finally snapped when your boyfriend somehow got all your classes changed to his. Kalim was becoming way too much to handle. So what did you do? It was time to break up with him.

“Please!” Kalim shouted, eyes watering as he blocked the exit, forcing you to stop in your tracks. He stared up at you with his watery red eyes. “Please” he repeated, the second-year's voice cracking slightly. “Don’t leave, we can talk about this.” It tore your heart to see Kalim like this, but it just had to be done. Your relationship just wasn’t healthy for either of you

“You have to move,” you said calmly. Your eyes tearing away from him, guilt eating away at you. Kalim didn’t move an inch though, his feet cemented to the ground. You could see tears slowly roll down his cheeks, but you just couldn't give in, not again… “Kalim-“ you spoke firmly but before you could say anything more, the white-headed teen dropped to his knees, hands clasping on your uniform.

You froze in place as the Prince buried his head into your stomach. “Please, please, please” He cried out over and over again until his words became incomprehensible. You could only stand there. What else could you do? You already felt terrible for making him like this, you couldn’t just push Kalim off you. And it didn’t help with people walking past and giving you a dirty look. Kalim had stopped. pulling his face away from your uniform and looking up at you, tears staining his cheeks. “Is it because I don’t pay enough attention to you” he stated. His face was serious and determined. “I’ll give you anything! Jewellery, the newest and most expensive clothes. You just name it, it’s yours!” He exclaimed a crazy smile plastered across his face, making your blood run cold. Trying to tell him that money wasn't the issue but he just wouldn’t listen, too caught up in his own world.

Suddenly, Kalim grabbed both of your hands, pulling himself up from the ground. “I need you” he whispered, eyes boring into yours. You tried to pull away but Kalim’s grip was surprisingly strong.

“Stop it” you begged, tears threatening to spill from your [Eye colour] eyes.

His grip on your hand only tightened, knuckles nearly turning white. “I’ll die without you” his voice was shaky and unsteady. He looked deranged.

Thoughts began forming at what the prince had just told you. Scenes played out in your mind of what he would do to himself. All because of you. “Please don’t” you muttered softly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. The words he used, the way he spoke, the look in his eyes, they all made you feel guilty. You knew this was his plan. To cry, to beg. Making you feel like the bad guy, like you were being a bitch. And what shocked you the most, it was actually working.

Kalim smiled softly releasing his grip off you. He raised his hands, cupping both sides of your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumb. "Then don’t leave me" he spoke gently. He didn’t even wait for you to respond. He already knew the answer just by the way you get out a defeated sigh. Not even wasting a second, he pulled you into a tight hug, whispering sweet honey words into your ear.

You could never leave. This was your life. Stuck in this toxic relationship. Even if you somehow manage to get yourself out of it, Kalim always gets what he wants. He will bring you back, he always finds a way.

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

The Time of A Coffee

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: It’s only you and Dean for the hunt. Sharing a motel room is not the best, but it’s a must, so you sleep in the same room as Dean for the first time. But Dean is a man of routine, and he cannot function without his coffee. Fed up with how long it takes him, you act like a brat to piss him off, only… Dean has no patience in the morning. Especially when you walk naked in front of him.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, overstimulation, masturbation, shower masturbation, use of sex toys, teasing, grumpy Dean

Square: Coffee for @mfbingo​

A/n: I got this idea while looking at the gif below... Enjoy! Feedbacks are appreciated!!

It wasn't the first time you went hunting. The world of monsters invaded your life a few years ago, but it was only recently that you moved into the bunker with the Winchesters. It was more convenient to live in the lair where hundreds of pages of information on all the kinds of monsters that existed were located. Besides, it was the most secure place in the world.

It was your first time hunting alone with Dean, though.

The eldest Winchester didn't seem to appreciate your presence in what he called his home, and you never quite understood why. Except for the few times you passed by him in the hallways on your way to a room, the bunker was so big you hardly ever saw him.

Sam was still injured from the last hunt, so Dean flatly refused to take him with him. However, Sam refused to allow Dean to hunt alone. And if his brother couldn't go with him, there was only you left.

“Don’t think I’ll protect you kiddo,” Dean told you the moment you got into the impala. “We’re going together but I work solo.”

Of course, his attitude had frustrated you badly. You just wanted to get it over with. By the time you arrived in the city where the supernatural event was happening and rented a seedy motel room for the two of you, it was already late. It was impossible to begin the investigations until the next morning.

The night passed without incident. Each of you had their own bed and you turned your back on the green-eyed hunter, hoping to find sleep, but the frustration rising inside you throughout the night made sure you wouldn’t get any rest. The incomprehension of his attitude towards you haunted you, why did he have to act like this? Hunting alone was dangerous, that was why Sam always preferred to go in teams of two or three, and if necessary, the person left at the bunker could do research or answer the phone pretending to be an FBI boss. Dean should be grateful you were there and put up with his attitude.

The sun seeping through the half-open curtains was what woke you up the next day. Yawning, you stretched your arms above your head and kicked the blanket out of the way, forgetting for a few seconds where you were and with whom. A growl echoed next to you and it was enough to completely wake you up, bringing with the hoarse sound chills to your lower stomach that you wish you hadn't had. Especially for the man who seemed to hate your presence so much.

Turning your head to the side, you encountered a sight you never thought you'd get the chance to see.

His hair was disheveled on his head. Half-open eyes stared at the ceiling, the light probably strong to his retinas. His large hands rubbed his eyelids, like it could help him see better, and his tongue moistened his dry lips. A new growl echoed the first as he rotated his previously half-sided body so he was fully sprawled on his back. And in this position, the blankets shifted and a tent was formed.

The heat rose to your face so quickly, you thought for a moment the blankets of the bed were still on your body. A hundred degrees crashed down on you and headed directly between your legs, the space growing hotter and hotter as you watched the man lay in bed next to you. Still half asleep, Dean hadn't noticed you waking up. He groaned again, and you hated the effect his hoarse voice had on your body, in addition to the sight of his morning wood unraveling the structure of the blanket.

Dean then moved. Sitting up, he put his legs on the side of the mattress so he was now back to you. Before he got up, you half-closed your eyes to pretend to be asleep but you could still see what was going on. After a few seconds of sitting on the edge of the bed, Dean finally got up.

His walk was very slow, like he was purposely giving you plenty of time to watch the tent in his loose pajama pants rise and fall slightly with each step. You swallowed dryly as you watched him walk to the bathroom, the door closing behind him the last thing you saw. Then the sound of the water being turned on in the shower hit your ears, and you could safely open your eyes.

“God.”

It was your turn to sit up in bed and rub your eyes. A hand in your hair, you stared at your thighs trying to understand what had just happened and why it had had such an effect on you.

"I so need to get laid," you mumbled to yourself as you stood up. You had to go out for some fresh air, it was a pressing need. With the shower occupied, you couldn't wash away those lewd thoughts running through your mind and refresh your feverish body with the help of freezing cold water. But maybe the fresh morning air would help you in this case. Picking up the first clothes you found, you grabbed your wallet and hurried out of the room.

Once outside, you walked to the nearest cafe. A good, strong coffee would be perfect to put your ideas back in place. And a coffee for Dean might make him a little friendlier, who knows? Once you had both drinks, you were about to return to the motel when a sign caught your eye. It was still early, but if you believed the person who had just entered, the store was open.

The feeling of warmth spread once again between your legs. There was no way you would make it without some relief. And it wasn't your fingers that would satisfy you, certainly not with the next few days you had to spend with the source of this discomfort.

Gathering up your courage, you crossed the street and went to the store.

About twenty minutes was all it took you to get two coffees and your little personal present. And yet, when you returned, you were greeted by a gun pointed at your head.

“Where the hell have you been!” Dean exclaimed the moment he recognized you, his gun now pointed to the ground. The hunter growled and walked back into the bedroom, leaving the door open for you to follow.

Fuck, if he could stop growling, maybe the heat would stop soaking your inner thighs!

"I went for coffee," you rolled your eyes as you set the cup holder down on the table. Noticing Dean's back to you, you rush to your bag to put your other purchase in, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But obviously, the hunter had to put his nose everywhere.

“Oh and what’s this you’re hiding?”

"Pads," you jerked your head around, answering his question very quickly. “What, do you prefer I bleed all over your car?” Of course you were lying. Since you took the pill, you no longer had your periods. But menstruation had always put men off and you hoped that was enough for Dean not to go through your things to verify your statements.

“Ew.” Obviously. Dean walked over to the table, totally disinterested in your bag, to grab one of the two coffees.

"That's mine," you rushed to pick up your cup. After a “whatever” perfectly gestured with only his eyebrows, Dean took his drink and went to sit on the edge of his bed to sip it slowly. A sigh of appreciation broke the silence after his first sip, and you didn't think anything could be worse than his growls.

But that sound in any other context sounded dirty. You were lucky to hold your coffee firmly in your hands.

“Alright, so, for the case,” you began as you sat down at the table. The computer Sam had lent you for the hunt was there, so you slid it towards you and opened it. But before you could add anything, out of the corner of your eye you could see Dean raise a hand. Putting your full attention on him, you watched as he pointed to his coffee and then raised his hand again, palm facing you, signaling you to slow down.

Coffee above all.

It was your turn to growl. All you wanted was to finish the hunt as soon as you could, or at least make the day go by as quickly as possible. Chances were Dean would hit the nearest bar in the evening for a beer and a girl or two. And so, you would finally have some alone time with your purchase.

You fucking brought him a coffee. And that was how he thanked you? Besides, now that you thought about it, the hunter never thanked you.

Your frustration grew.

In the end, and much to your dismay, Dean didn't go to the bar that night. No, he decided it was more interesting to spend the evening in the motel room in front of the television with two or three open beers around him. Not only could you not use the object you had bought in the morning, but you also had to endure Dean's presence that only made you feel more warm. The frustration was so intense, it felt like you were about to explode. So, although you had already taken a shower that morning, you went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit.

Once in the safety of the bathroom, you removed your clothes and entered the bathtub. You smiled as you took the detachable shower head in your hands and sat down on the cold ceramic tile. Once the temperature was perfect, you directed the shower head between your thighs.

Your hand pressed against your mouth immediately as pleasure slammed into you from all sides. The frustration of the day was so accumulated in your lower body that you felt yourself twitch around nothing, your pussy begging to be filled as quickly as possible. But both of your hands were busy, one holding the shower head and the other making sure you didn't make any noise, and you didn't trust yourself enough to be quiet.

The thin jet was like hundreds of tiny needles attacking your clit. And if you moved the shower head from left to right, it felt even better. So much pressure built up, you were on the edge of your orgasm continuously. It was burning, building up, over and over, your back arching in the tub as your hips chased the jet like a hungry animal.

It felt so good, so hot, like your pussy was on fire. Everything was on fire, and yet, something was still missing, it wasn't enough to reach your climax. Desperate, and needing it badly, you took the risk. Your hand clasped over your mouth left its post and you hurried, knowing full well that biting your lip wouldn't be enough for long.

Only two fingers were enough. As simple as that. Feeling full was enough for your orgasm to shatter you into little chunks of pleasure and an all too loud moan left your mouth, but as the pleasure lasted, as your body shook and as you saw stars, you didn't care about the sounds you made.

Once your high was over, you had to quickly divert the spray from your now far too sensitive intimacy. It was immediately after that knocking was heard against the door.

“Y/n, you’re okay? I heard you scream!”

Hearing his voice after cumming only brought back that desire and the uncomfortable feeling of being too horny. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you swallowed hard, the thought of getting caught way too exciting for you.

“Yeah! I just slipped and almost fell, that's all!”

You hoped your voice didn't shake while speaking. Because your body was still trembling with the aftermath of your release.

"Clumsy," you heard from the other side of the door, and then footsteps moving away.

Fuck, that was close.

-

The next day was almost exactly like the day before. You woke up before Dean after a far too realistic dream that left you with an unpleasant aftertaste.

Dream that consisted of Dean ordering you to get off on his thigh. Fuck, you could still feel the material of his pants rubbing your thighs to the point of burning. Needless to say, you woke up with overpowering sexual frustration. And Dean waking up next to you, a new tent in the covers and lots of grunts…

This time, you got up before the hunter. Going past him to get to the bathroom was harder than you thought, the temptation to look in his direction was spellbinding… only a quick glance at this tent, just to see and imagine how big he was… And how perfectly his length would stretch your core, filling you up so much you would cum with only him entering you…

You failed. Near the bathroom door, you glanced at Dean.

The tent was the first thing you looked at. Then, your gaze went up on the body under the blanket until it met green eyes firmly staring back. A half-smile tugged the hunter's lips as you quickly entered the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

Heat exploded in your face.

There was always the possibility of using the shower to relieve yourself a little, like the previous day. But all it took was one sound for Dean to know. And slipping in the shower two days in a row was unlikely to happen to give that as an excuse again.

You just stepped into the shower, your wet hair sticking to your body when you realized you hadn't brought your shampoo with you.

"Damn it," you wrapped a towel around your body and opened the door without thinking. “Forgot my shampoo-”

You never stopped so suddenly. So much that you almost lost your balance.

A new magnificent view was offered to you.

Still lying on his bed and under the covers, Dean was in the middle of… taking care of his morning problem. And even though his gestures were hidden under the blanket, your brain was filling in the holes. The tent was in motion, animated by a hand rising and falling rapidly on the very hard tower. Small moans were in motion all around the room, and surprisingly, despite his irreplaceable hunting instincts, it took several seconds for Dean to notice your presence.

But unlike you, if your presence bothered him, he didn't show it.

“Well, go ahead, take your shampoo,” Dean pointed to your bag with his chin. The tent had stopped moving, but now it was his burning gaze on you that was the problem.

His eyes traveled up and down your body a couple of times, his head tilting to the side as he put himself into a sitting position. Dean didn't speak more, he just watched. That was enough to turn you on so much, if you hadn't been soaked by the shower, drops of water falling around you from your hair, you would have felt your inner thighs completely drenched with your arousal.

He wanted to play this kind of game? Perfect. You were fed up with his attitude and the feelings his presence gave you. You were tired of feeling constantly turned on and ruining your underwear with your arousal. He was about to get a taste of his own medicine. 

Walking in front of him, you bore his gaze into yours until you were near your bed. There, you leaned over to access your bag, purposely not bending your knees. The towel was very short and you knew you were flashing Dean enough for him to have a very nice view of your naked intimacy and your asscheeks. Excitement shook your hands as you grabbed what you needed. His gaze burned your skin, so you straightened up and stalked back to the bathroom. Once near the door, you turned back to Dean and with a simple movement of your arm, untied your towel that fell to the floor. But before he could get an eyeful of your naked body, you backed into the bathroom and closed the door.

Your breathing was rapid at what you had just done. You only hoped your little show would leave him in a similar state to yours… Frustrated. Excited.

You were about to celebrate your small victory when a sound echoed from the other side of the door. A sound you knew all too well, that vibration you desperately craved for the past few days

Opening the door abruptly, you immediately froze at seeing Dean right in front of you. He was so close his body heat engulfed your person. Also… There was something pressing against your lower stomach, something you didn't have to look at to know what it was.

“You left your bag open," Dean mumbled in that hoarse voice you loved so much. He raised his hand and in it, you recognized your purchase from the night before. His thumb pushed the button up, then down, the dildo shaking in all directions as it turned on and off.

“Yeah, so? You take so much time drinking your coffee. I have time to cum 3 times before you’re even ready.”

Talking back to Dean while you were completely naked, with him holding your sex toy, clearly as excited as you and with the way he was looking at you like an animal in front of its prey… It probably wasn't the best idea. Dean raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to you again. Now his torso was pressed against your chest, your wet skin leaving dark stains on the gray fabric of his t-shirt. His cock still trapped in his pants pressed against your stomach, a wave of heat attacking you as you felt how hard he was. Raising your head to maintain eye contact, even your breath was lost in the remnants of desire as you gazed into his green eyes.

Feverish was a weak word to describe the way he looked at you.

"Three times, you're sure?" Dean cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah," you replied haughtily, your head tilting the other way. His face was so close your noses brushed and your breaths became one. The excitement was now in full play.

It was heavy. It was hot.

“Let’s see that, shall we?”

You were sure he was about to kiss you, so you closed your eyes. Big mistake. The next moment, you were handcuffed against the headboard of Dean's bed, your arms above your head, his personal smell invading your senses.

But the scent was nothing compared to the sight.

The hunter had captured his prey and was pacing in front of the bed, your dildo in his hands, carefully detailing it as if it were a weapon he intended to use against you.

“Three times. Okay. I'll get the coffee first, just to be fair.” Only his eyes moved as Dean detailed you with a smirk to see your reaction. Then, he knelt on the bed and invited you to open your legs. Hypnotized by his actions, you let him, watching his every move as if he was going to jump on you any moment. “Relax for me please…” Taking a deep breath, you tried to relax as Dean thrusted the toy inside you. As he handled it well with his warm hands, the silicone was no longer cold and entered easily into you. A moan immediately escaped your mouth as the toy burned your entrance, filling you to perfection. Dean pushed the toy into you until the space that meant to be against your clit was in its position.

It was fully inside of you.

You had taken this toy for this reason, precisely. Not only did the dildo vibrate, but the space that rested on your clitoris… had a suction mechanism.

Dean turned the toy on to its lowest setting and immediately, your body tensed up all over. Your head lolled back and moans after moans escaped your mouth, your legs shaking and your arms tugging at the handcuffs. You clenched your thighs, trying to position the toy in the spot that would make you cum immediately, not giving a damn about how desperate you looked.

Opening your eyes, you met Dean's gaze. He was watching again, not saying anything, observing your body's reactions to the toy that was stimulating you, and seeing him looking at you that way… It had the same effect as if you had turned the toy on to its strongest setting. It didn't even have to be positioned at the spot that could make you cum easily.

The orgasm exploded between your thighs in a high pitched, surprised moan.

Your body started shaking and your legs tightened around the toy to be sure it stayed in place. It was so good, you ended completely exhausted and out of breath. Now very sensitive, your clitoris still trembling, you were about to cum again when suddenly, strong hands spread your thighs apart and the buzzing stopped completely.

"That's one and I don't even have my coffee yet," Dean grinned, his eyes fixed on your chest moving up and down quickly, your breasts jiggling with your every breath. "You're already so wet..." Even your inner thighs were sensitive, you noticed when Dean ran one of his hands against that part of your body to see how wet you were.

"Please," you tugged on your handcuffs, wiggling your hips for him to put the toy back on. You had never experienced such a good and powerful orgasm and you wanted more.

“So greedy. That was one. Now, I'm gonna get my coffee. See how many times you can cum again while I drink it.”

And that bastard left you like that. Tied to the bed, naked, still soaking wet from your shower with a toy deep inside you, on the verge of a second orgasm and the promise of more. “Don't leave me here! Winchester!” You yelled at him, but Dean was already gone.

Once alone, you sighed and took the time to understand the situation. Fuck, he was going to watch you get consumed by that toy that had the ability to make you cum in just seconds… And the thought of him watching you turned you on so much, only thinking about it made you throb around the dildo. And if you shifted just a little, you could feel it moving inside you and it felt so good, not enough to make you cum, but enough to satisfy your needs while waiting for Dean to return.

Your eyes were closed when Dean came back, your hips moving in circles to feel something, small moans escaping your lips every time the toy brushed your g spot. You didn't hear the hunter enter, you only knew he was there when the vibrations attacked you again.

A high-pitched scream broke your throat as the sensation washed over you. Your eyes snapped open and you looked at Dean. He had his coffee in his hand, the other between your thighs holding the toy in place inside you.

“Oh fuck, oh God!” Your back arched under the sudden onslaught. And if that wasn't enough, Dean turned up the intensity of the toy. If you hadn't been tied down, you would have reached out to grab something, anything, but all you could do was pull on your cuffs and move around. To try to escape the suction, or to put it in the place that was going to make you explode? You didn’t know. But it was so hot, so good, it was burning, and when you opened your eyes to see what Dean was doing, you could see him sitting on your bed, his cup of coffee in his hands. He was slowly sipping his drink as he watched you writhe with pleasure in his bed, and again...

The fact that he is looking at you made you cum.

“That’s two, and I’m not even halfway through my coffee.”

His hoarse voice made you cum again. Then it was his laugh.

You lost count of how many times you came. Every time you thought it was over, that Dean had finally finished his coffee and was going to take the toy away from you, a new orgasm attacked you. And Dean wasn’t helping by increasing the intensity. Everytime. Until the toy was maxed out.

"Please, please, oh god stop, stop, I can't, I can't!" You were crying now. You were so overstimulated that your orgasms were now torn out from you almost painfully, your body so exhausted you were coming quietly. Each orgasm lasted longer and sent thorns of pleasure for long seconds. Like you were cumming continuously. 

"I'm done with my coffee," Dean said, finally turning off the dildo. Your body immediately softened, only small spasms running through your limbs made you moved. Your muscles were so tense it took you a moment to remember how to use them.  Dean pulled the dildo out of your entrance and you moaned sadly at the feeling of emptiness. "You're sure you wanted me to stop it? Look at that, the toy is soaked, oh…” you glanced tiredly at Dean to see him place the toy down on the bed and put his attention between your thighs. “Son of a bitch, you soaked my bed, it’s so wet…”

His growl, the one that had gotten you in this situation, rang in your ears again. You came so much you were exhausted, and yet, your hole throbbed at the thought of Dean filling you up. You wanted him to growl against your ear as his cock moved in and out of your abused cunt.

“Please, Dean, please,” you spread your thighs, now too far gone to care what you looked like.

Dean didn't care either, because it only took him a few moments to take off his clothes and be on top of you. You hadn't noticed until now, but the warmth of his body informed you how cold you were. “I got you sweetheart…”

He must have been in as much of a hurry as you, because Dean didn't even wait to enter you. Since he had undressed quickly and you had trouble keeping your eyes open, you could barely get an eyeful of his length. You knew he was big, but yet, it was a surprised moan that escaped your lips as he entered you until he was comfortably settled in your channel. To say he was big was almost too sweet to describe his girth. “God, you’re so wet… Fuck… Oh fuck…”

As you wished, his growls tickled your ear and you clenched around him. It only made him groan louder.

You were both impatient. So immediately after entering you, Dean started moving. It was fast, it was rough, and as soon as Dean untied the handcuffs, your hands went to his back, that you scratched and marked with your nails.

“Oh fuck, do that again,” Dean begged, thrusting slower but deeper. Exhausted from all your orgasms, you moaned lazily and dug your nails into his back. The accumulation of your wetness created obscene and embarrassing sounds, but made his movements so easy that Dean could go any way he liked. As rough, hard or fast as he wanted. And you were taking it all in, constantly feeling yourself on the verge of another orgasm.

But that orgasm was different.

As it was about to hit you head-on, Dean pulled his face back enough to look at you. You gazed into his eyes and time seemed to stop.

It was like after all the stimulation, you finally saw who made you feel this good. It wasn’t only the toy that made you cum. It was seeing him there, seeing him in control.

It was Dean. 

You moved your hands to cup his cheek and finally put your lips against his.

It was a rising orgasm. Higher and higher, burning your insides, exploding in small sparks of pleasure and spasms. Moans and grunts mixed together and when you entered your tongue in his mouth to deepen the kiss, you could feel him twitch inside you. Dean buried himself as much as possible, so deep, you could feel his cock brush against your cervix. And despite how wet you were, you felt his seed fill you up.

Once Dean came inside you, you stayed like that for a while, just kissing. The passion in his movements, how he kissed you and touched you after fucking surprised you, you would have thought that was all he wanted, sex, but you weren't complaining and kissed him until you ran out of breath.

“Fuck,” Dean gasped. “You have no idea how bad I wanted this.”

"What?" You stroked his shoulders, not really understanding where he was going with this. You put your confusion on the little high cloud of pleasure you were still floating on. “I… I thought you hated me.”

"I didn't hate you," Dean brushed a lock out of your forehead softly. It had to be the sweetest gesture he had for you since you knew him. “I hated how bad I wanted you all for myself. You seemed so close to Sam, I thought you two were a thing.”

“But Sam is with Eileen,” you frowned with a smile, understanding now why he was always so grumpy whenever you were near him or his brother. “You’re a dumbass, Winchester.”

“I know.” His gaze softened. It was also the first time you saw that side of him. The caring, sweet Dean. “So, how about I help you clean up in the shower? I think you need to cool down… Or warm up… And get clean, even if you’re still wet…”

At the thought of the shower, you clenched around him. Dean didn’t know why, but he was smart, he would figure it out soon enough. “Please.”

Supernatural Tag List: @cryptichobbit @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @siospins2 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse @djs8891

[berenwrites]

Guardian at the Gate – Steddie Flashfic – PG

A/N: Didn’t get a chance to write for last month’s prompt (only got as far as the first line) but was determined to manage for November. Hope you enjoy my efforts. Don’t forget to check out all the other great fics at @steddiemicrofic too💖.

Written for prompt: REST | 387 words | rated: PG  | cw: none

Wayne stepped into Eddie’s hospital room unsure what he was going to see. What he wasn’t expecting was a filthy, dishevelled teenager to surge to his feet and plant himself between Wayne and the bed where his nephew was lying, covered in bandages.

“Won’t let you hurt him,” was the flat warning.

The handle of some sort of bat poking out from behind Eddie’s guardian’s leg caught Wayne’s eye. He held up his hands.

“Not here to hurt him, son,” he said slowly. “Name’s Wayne, I’m Eddie’s uncle. You must be Steve.”

When the Henderson boy had told him Steve was looking after Eddie, Wayne had not expected anything so literal, or the Steve in question to be Steve Harrington, former star of Hawkins High.

“Oh,” Steve said, all the strength seeming to melt out of him, “Dustin found you. Eddie’s innocent, sir, he’s a hero. I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Wayne replied. “You were protecting my boy.”

Wayne had seen the look in Steve’s eyes on soldiers in Vietnam. Exhaustion and determination in equal measure clung to the young man. Now the danger was past, he also swayed in place.

“It’s okay, son,” Wayne said, gently taking the bat from Steve’s hand, “I’ll take over for a while. You can rest.”

Steve looked confused by that, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Rest?” he asked as if that didn’t make sense.

Wayne nodded.

“Eddie…he…”

Whatever Steve was trying to say was lost as Wayne found himself with an armful of semi-conscious teenager. He propped the bat against the bed, wrapping his other arm around his burden. There was a second empty bed in the room, presumably because no one had wanted to share with the suspected murderer. With barely coordinated help from Steve, he manoeuvred them so he could get Steve lying down.

That was when the kid’s jacket fell open and Wayne saw the congealed blood on the shirt on the inside.

“Jesus, son,” Wayne muttered, “what have you boys been about?”

The only response from Steve was an incomprehensible mumble even as the kid rolled so he could still see Eddie through mostly closed eyes.

Wayne was going to get help for Steve, he was going to protect his nephew, and he was going to get answers, in that order.

[yourlittlebunnyy]

a court of shadows and darkness

masterlist - next chapter coming soon!

prologue

summary: Selaene, Rhysand's sister, Azriel's mate runs away after the High Lord of Spring tries to kill her.

warnings: violence, bad english, suicide

enjoy!

Her mother's screams woke her up.

Without second thoughts, a hand ends up under her pillow where it meets the usual dagger gifted by Azriel.

His shadows gather around the door lock, as if they want to say - don't go. But her mother is in danger, and she would never hesitate to protect those she loves.

She orders them to let her pass, and although reluctant, the shadows follow the command.

When she arrives in the small living room of the cottage, the scene makes bile rise up in her throat. There's blood everywhere – it's the first thing she notices.

She hears her mother scream her name, and turns to the familiar voice.

Her condition is... she feels tears prickling her eyes. Her grip on the dagger becomes insecure. Her mother's clothes are torn, her hair is disheveled and she is full of wounds that bleed mercilessly.

"Mother...", her voice cracks. The mother wastes no time, continues to urge her to leave, to escape. "He's here!", she repeats, but the daughter is unable to identify him, or find him in the house.

The smell of the male must be covered by the smell of blood. She wonders if her mother will survive, if her brother will ever come to help. If Azriel...

She doesn't listen to her mother pleas and approaches, supports her by placing an arm on her back and helps her walk - amidst painful moans - out of the cabin, looking for help. The mother holds her own abdomen, which is bleeding profusely, and she wonders if anyone will come, if she will survive such wounds.

She doesn't dare speak, she doesn't want to ask questions as she fears that her mother will lose too much strength trying to answer her. She screams for help, hoping that someone will come and save them, save her mother. After her screams the mother's smell changes, the most genuine fear makes its way onto her face. “No,” she says between sobs. She is pale and falls to her knees, making her moan louder. "Mother... we need help. Please...", but her prayers don't seem to sway her.

She tries to speak, to explain, but the pain she feels is so strong and her voice is so broken that the sentences come out incoherent and incomprehensible.

“He is here,” is the only thing she understands. "Who is he, mother?", but she doesn't answer.

No one will come, she realizes.

The village is too far away.

Her brother is too far away.

Her mate is too far away.

But there's no one else here. She's desperate, the tears that were pricking her eyes now flowing freely down her face, clearing the winter air from her cheeks.

She will only try once, with both of them, for her mother. She has to concentrate a lot: she is still young and her brother has only just started teaching her how to use her daemati power. But it's night, he's probably sleeping, and... She watches her mother, her shadows - Azriel's shadows - trying to support her, to hold her wounds. An idea flashes in her mind, maybe... maybe if she used her mate's shadows it would take less. She calls them back to her and orders them to call the Shadowsinger, to hurry, and the shadows can do nothing but obey that delicious creature that their master loves so unconditionally.

"Mother... they will come. Azriel will come, mother. Please, hold on", the mother once again seems afraid of her words and her scent reeks of fear even more than before.

She knows that Azriel - hoping he is awake - can feel everything she feels from the bond, even though they still haven't accepted it, and with the help of the shadows, she hopes he is quick. But she's not sure, it's a half hour flight from here.

She must think faster, more astutely.

She makes her mother lie down in the snow hoping that the cold will ease her pain, she tears off her nightgown and with trembling hands tightens it around the wounds on her arms, then on her legs, and finally the one on her abdomen.

Why aren't they healing?

There's no time to think about this, because it's time to contact Rhysand.

She concentrates, but it's difficult with her mother's blood warming her hands, an inviting warmth instead of the cold of the Illyrian steppes, but so wrong.

Rhysand.

She tries, but she is aware that she has spoken into the void. She can't find his brother. And she won't succeed, so far she's only succeeded with eye contact.

She hasn't allowed herself to give up, but the adrenaline in her body is drying up and she's out of ideas. She just hopes Azriel arrives soon.

She takes her mother's hand in hers and the female doesn't stop her incomprehensible dialogue.

Then, as if she had seen the most terrifying horror in all of Prythian, her eyes opened wide and a scream of pure terror rent the air. The daughter is quick, turns in the direction her mother is looking, and then sees him. Sees him, the one whose mother was, is terrified.

“Here you are, finally,” he says with a sinister smile that makes her blood run cold.

Her body becomes completely stiff and she curses herself, because she forgot the dagger her mate gave her inside the cabin, and the male - the High Lord of the Spring Court - is covered in knifes. She would like to appear strong, but the smell of her own fear mixes with her mother's and that maked the Fae laughs without warmth.

The man approaches slowly, like a predator playing with its prey, and she doesn't know what to expect.

Her brother and his friends haven't been training her for too long, she doesn't know how to fight and is definitely at a disadvantage.

Her mother urges her to leave, to run away, but she can't move, can't leave her there, half-dead, with the High Lord of the Spring Court.

“We'll think of your mother first, child,” the male says honeyedly, and a sob she was desperately trying to hold back escapes her cold lips.

She positions himself in front of her mother, a vain attempt to protect her.

She senses it late, but he winnows behind her and stabs her hip, an agonized scream ripping through the air once again as the young girl falls to the ground, hands desperately holding the injured part as she cries out in pain.

"No...", she hears her mother's voice muffled, her mind focused on the torn flesh of her hip. She is too distracted, in one blow he cuts off her mother's head in front of her eyes, making her scream again. "No!", but the Fae laughs, making her sob harder.

Not even her father would be capable of such a thing.

“My… my mate,” she says in an attempt to sound decisive, clearly failing, “will come… and kill you.”

"Your mate... which would be the  bastard ?", a feeling of anger creeps into her at those words, at the way he speaks of him with such superiority and cruelty, "you know, child, you are such a jewel, you should have accepted the proposal made by my son and I would have spared you. You are exactly like them, a brute bastard, and now I will take your wings and your head."

"No!" But she knows it will happen.

Azriel won't make it in time.

Rhysand won't make it in time.

No one will come to save her and she will die alone, next to her mother's corpse, and it will happen slowly and painfully.

Her brain works extremely fast now, thinking of a way, any way, to save herself. She could winnow, but again, she's just starting to learn, and it's a dangerous practice.

But it's also the only way.

With a deep breath, she closes her eyes and feels the void envelop her and waits to feel the ground beneath her feet before opening them again.

But the feeling never comes.

Darkness envelops her and when she reopens her eyes, a sob pierces the silence of that place.

She got stuck, she got stuck in the Underworld.

This is even worse than dying at the hands of that male, there is no chance of returning here.

There is an ambiguous silence, everything is still.

Sgee tries to look around but it's all dark and empty. She tries to speak, but her voice echoes for minutes.

She is left alone, without anyone, and now she will die in this place.

She still has the dagger stuck in her hip, she has to remove it herself, and when she does, a scream comes from the depths of her throat. Another series of sobs shake her shoulders as she kneels down and rests her forehead on the ground.  Her hands apply pressure to the wound as her blood adds to her mother's now dry blood, warming her palms once again.

She was stupid. Such a fool.

Rhysand had warned her, told her that you had to visualize your arrival well before winnowing, or you could be stuck in the Underworld, from which there was no escape.

But she was reckless and desperate, and the destination was the last thing on her mind.

She looks at the Spring Court's dagger, the only thing visible due to its shimmer.

The wound is starting to close thanks to her Fae abilities and she is able to lie on her back.

She takes the dagger with one hand, weighs it between her fingers. She  touches the blade, extremely sharp and dirty with her own blood. For a moment, she considers ending her life.

What's the point of going forward, trying to survive here, where there is nothing and everything is empty?

At least she would offer herself peace and a quick death at her own hands, certainly not at the hands of that clearly sick male.

She puts the blade on her neck, takes a deep breath, and is ready to slit her own throat when a voice speaks.

"Don't do it."

next chapter coming soon!

Hi!!! Sorry if you find some grammatical errors, english isn't my first language. Btw this is the prologue i hope you liked it!!! 🎀

[oneshotnewbie]

hi could you possibly do a maya and carina x reader where reader is maybe drunk and stubborn and it is them taking care of her and just complete fluff 🫶

ᕚ---ᕘ

You staggered around the room, completely losing your balance. You got drunk into oblivion on your best friend's birthday and your two girlfriends had to pick you up from the restaurant. As soon as Maya and Carina arrived, they quickly rushed to a private room at the other end of the building to come to your aid. "Bella, are you okay?" The brunette asked worriedly as they saw you leaning against a wall, your cheeks burning red and your eyes bloodshot and glassy.

Maya had immediately jumped to your side, hooking your arm over her shoulder so that she could catch your body and hold it upright before you stumbled and fell unhappily. "Sure thing, pretty. I'm awesome! I swear I can walk straight!" You muttered in an unintelligible slur and started to giggle, but all you got was serious faces, eyes looking at each other in incomprehension.

Using their combined efforts, they tried to gently lower your heavily intoxicated body onto one of the wooden chairs. “Y/n, darling, how much did you drink?” she requested, reaching out physically to lift your head and catch your gaze. You, however, looked back at your fingers, tried to count the shots on them, but failed miserably as they blurred and wavered in front of your eyes. "Um, I think a few more than I should? But hey, you suddenly have four eyes that I can look into, and all of them are beautiful!"

The blonde's hand fell to her forehead, trying to smooth out the wrinkles that had formed on it as she bit her lip. She looked up at Carina, who couldn't resist a gentle chuckle. Maya scuffled her hair and asked herself what you had gotten yourself into. Normally you were never the drinker. “Let’s get you home,” she sighed out loudly and rose from her kneeling position in front of you.

Both Carina and Maya helped you get up and carefully brought you into the car to take you home. During the journey it became quiet around the two of them. While Carina tried to keep the car straight and not swerve too much, it was Maya who turned around every minute to check on you. However, you were caught up in your own daydream, humming shrilly to the tune on the radio as you traced the tears of rain on the window. "Why didn't you call us and let us know? We could have picked you up beforehand. Then maybe you wouldn't have drank so much."

You looked at her with wide eyes, your pupils greatly dilated from drinking alcohol. You tried to remain serious, tried to think of a clever answer for your friend but failed and started laughing instead. "But then I would have denied you this wonderful trip!" This time, Maya and Carina couldn't help but laugh at your rambling, although they remained worried about your condition.

Both women were happy when they unlocked the door to their shared apartment and you were finally back in your own four walls. Up the stairs to the second floor with you in their luggage, the two of them were completely exhausted. While the blonde struggled to get you onto the couch, the brunette grabbed coffee and a blanket to help you get over the alcohol rush and keep you warm.

When she came back with the things, she also got salty crackers to balance your blood sugar levels and avoid side effects. Maya gratefully took the warm drink, handed it to you and supported the glass with one of her hands to avoid any accidents. "Here, drink some of this. It will help."

You nodded perfusively, pulled the glass closer to your face and sniffed it. You immediately wrinkled your nose, grimaced and pulled your head to the side to stop the smell from lingering in your nasal cavities. "That smells like burnt hope and Monday morning! Speaking of which, what kind of day is today?"

"Saturday morning," Carina laughed once more and moved back towards the kitchen while Maya stayed behind with you for a moment. When the Italian woman came with another glass, this time she put it to your lips and let you take a few sips. "This is water, maybe it will help you a little better."

"This tastes like the opposite and not as good as what I had before. Ugh!"

Maya shook her head miserably and began to take off the jacket she was still wearing, all the while standing next to you and making sure you didn't suddenly tip over to the side or fall forward onto the floor. "Maybe we should go easy on your taste buds? I think they've already experienced enough today."

You nodded in agreement, knowing she might be right. There was a short silence in which the two of them joined you on the couch. Carina took your legs on her lap and pulled them close to her middle, hoping that you would slowly relax and become calmer. But suddenly you started singing loudly, the words barely understandable, startling the two women who were tired and just waiting for you to fall asleep.

Shocked at the sudden noise and shrill tones that left your throat, they both looked at each other with wide eyes. The brunette held a hand over her mouth and looked away for a moment before she burst out laughing and couldn't stop herself. With this she also drew Maya under the pure spell of laughter. "Babe, is this your take on karaoke?" The blonde asked, holding her now aching stomach, but you didn't listen to her, got even louder and held your hand to your heart. You swayed on the couch, Carina holding your hand as you tried to sit straight on your shins and sang a tune that resembled the national anthem. "Bambina, I think you could make a new hit out of it if you sang the words a little more clearly!"

You laughed yourself at the incomprehensibility and the mood of the two women became increasingly relaxed. There was barely a shred of concern in their hearts, more happiness that you were doing well and that despite the poison in your blood, you generally made a good impression. "You know, you're probably the most entertaining drunk I know. And I've seen my entire fire team drunk."

Grinning widely, you bowed your upper body to her and punched your chest a few times before kissing the palm of your hand and holding it up in the air. "I take that as a compliment, my wonderful and beautiful Maya Bishop!"

The three of you sat together for a while until you noticed that you were getting more tired and slowly falling asleep. The blonde carefully covered you more tightly with the blanket and spoke to you gently to show you that you were cared for and safe. After the two were sure you had fallen into a deep sleep, they stayed close to you to continue to provide attention and support until you were stable again. Meanwhile, Maya and Carina kept exchanging amused looks.

"Hopefully she learns from this," Maya whispers in a gentle tone and squeezes herself next to Carina, wrapping her in a deep hug. The brunette leaned back, letting herself fall and trying to let the tiredness take its place. "Yes hopefully."

They stayed vigilant through the night to make sure you slept peacefully and didn't fall into a nightmare before deciding to seek some peace near you as well. They clearly deserved it.

[satorubrain]

Heyy <3

Can i have *another* request for the child eater Gojo~ how he would wake us up:

Normally (everyday)

To be sweet~

In an emergency~

and To be a pain!

Thank you!! i'm looking so forward to this!!!

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

Tags: Fluff, slight angst.

Synopsis: How Satoru wakes you up.

A/N: WELL THEN I HOPE U ENJOY THIS BBY <3

Normally.

Lets consider this is the normal one but the real normal is "to be a pain"

He wouldn't. He doesn't even want to get up. But your phone is too far from his reach and it's too comfortable to leave. He nuzzles in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with your lotion.

"Babeeee" he whines. "Your alarm has been going off for the last 15 minutes? Think you can do something about it please?"

"Mn. 5 more minutes pleasee" You mumble in your sleep, head buried in the pillow, eliciting a giggle from him.

It's a daily thing and both of you knew that. The 5 minutes might turn into 5 hours and you'll still somehow manage to doze off without a worry in your sleepyhead.

He hugs you a little tighter before dragging you up along with him, rocking back and forth with you, saying sweet nothings in your ear waking you up (mostly because if he annoys you in the morning, he'd be found dead in the next two seconds).

To be sweet.

This usually happens when you return late at night from a week long mission or when he fully knows you've been having a hard time recently, he tries his best to be extra sweet.

He wakes up a little early, drawing you a bath so you can relax. While the water is filling up he gets you breakfast, since he's prohibited from cooking but at least he knows how to make your favourite kind of tea.

Giving you a gentle kiss on your cheek as he slides an arm under your back, helping you get up.

"Good morning, sweet. I've got you breakfast and drawn a bath for you. What do you want first..... Or perhaps you want me?" He mischievously jokes earning a smack on the shoulder from you.

In an emergency.

I dont really imagine what kind of emergencies he might have. But I can think of three to be specific.

Case 1:

If anything that wakes him is your phone ringing because someone called you at an ungodly time.

Thankfully before it could even bother you, he picks it up just to find out about an emergency exorcism of a special grade curse that appeared out of nowhere. All it did was annoy him, he was irritated by the higherups who decided to summon you at 4 in the morning.

No he still doesn't wake you up. Instead he decides to solve your problem and not bother your peace.

Giving you a quick peck on your forehead, whispering "sleep tight, sweets. I will be right back" to which you mumble random incomprehensible words, which was enough encouragement for him. It doesn't even take him an hour to finish up your work and return to your warm embrace, giving in to his sleep.

"Uhh what did I get paid for?" You question, mostly yourself while checking the text message as you got ready for the day.

"Well i wonder" he stands proudly in front of you grinning widely giving you an answer.

Case 2:

He's crying.

It's one of the days when his thoughts get the better of him, his past comes tumbling down, numbing his senses and leaving him so vulnerable.

He's holding you close, afraid that he'll have to lose you too- maybe that you'll leave him or something else. His past has left a deep wound in his heart that is far from being healed, which reopens from time to time leaving him whimpering and afraid.

You soon wake up to his silent sobs, his chest heaving, and his soft sniffs. It doesn't take you long to come to your senses and realize he's probably having an anxiety attack. You know what's aching him, he doesn't need to tell you nor do you need to ask.

You hug him tightly as you gently pat his head. "My love, my Satoru. I'm here alright? You'll be fine. We will be fine okay, love?" you try your best to comfort him, reminding him to regulate his breathing as you wipe his tears, and thankfully it seems to be working.

"P-please... Don't leave me" Satoru pleads, sounding so pained and broken. You feel your heart shatter at his words.

"Always my love, I'll always be with you" You assure him, cupping his cheeks as he rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes while holding you tightly as he falls asleep.

To be a pain.

Exhibit A.

Another emergency being, him having a stupid question at 3 fucking 48 in the morning.

"babe babe as curses are developing they will start crushing too?" "Do you think Sukuna ever gets lonely? Nah maybe not hes a loser" "Babe will you love me if i was a worm?" "I had a dream of you!!! Did you dream about me too?" He shakes you awake, looking at you with his bright cerulean curious eyes.

"Gojo Satoru are you serious?!"

"My name is not Gojo Satoru, my name is, my love or something like that but not gojo. But what do you think about the question!!!!!!"

Exhibit B.

He has returned from a week-long mission at 4am and of course he wakes you up with a loud announcement of his arrival before he rushes into your shared bedroom, discarding his blindfolds somewhere. The door hits the wall with a loud bang while his throws himself on top of you crushing you with his weight.

"I'm love-starved" He explains cupping your cheeks, frowning and pouting slightly, his eyes a little watery. Enjoying your every movement and grunt that spill past your lips as you try to make space for yourself. Witnessing your beauty makes him realize how much he missed you as he cages with a tight hug.

Exhibit C:

"Rise and shineeeeeee" He declares as he slides the curtains aside causing you to wake up whining.

"Glad you woke up! I need my morning kiss now" He returns to you demanding a morning kiss just to be thrown off the bed when he comes close to you before you rush to the bathroom to get ready.

Oh, how he loves teasing you and annoying you. Knowing you won't even say a word before brushing and getting rid of that morning breath he could care less about.

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[bonefall]

the cats of the park is just frostpaw finally getting some therapy

tbh tho I feel like them being separate from clan life would help her immensely. They’re not so wrapped up in this culture of battle so they have a new and refreshing perspective (and also frost doesn’t have to worry about ulterior motives because they are STAYING AWAY from THAT trainwreck that is the clans)

RE: Nothing in BB!ASC is set in stone until the arc is done BUT

One excellent thing ASC has done with the Park cats that is commendable, is that they're treated as legitimate. Not inferior or malicious. They're just another culture that Frostpaw is going to learn from. The bar is UNDERGROUND but we've finally hopped over it.

So I'd want to keep and acknowledge that.

I think I might have an interesting idea for Frostpaw's journey. Also, side note... I'm thinking BB!ASC will rename every book because these titles are actually awful, im sorry. So I'd call this one ASC: The Source of the River

Gonna jot these down;

So, to begin with, Frostpaw calls the human. While being heavily sedated, she has her first vision of Riverstar.

FROSTPAW DOES NOT HAVE A SPECIAL CONNECTION TO STARCLAN.

She NEVER would. Screw that. Instead-- learning to connect to this vision of Riverstar, to her ancestors and their wisdom, is a SKILL she would learn.

Frame the journey less as Riverstar's Side Quest and more as Frostpaw chasing the Revelation she had while anesthetized.

So when she wakes up, she's thinking about how incomprehensibly VAST Riverstar was. She can't even imagine how there's enough space in the world to contain such a being.

Even the Lake itself... the lake is just a droplet, being suckled like a kit on the teat of the Southern Inlet river

For a second, her troubles seemed like a small flea on the nose of a great, cosmic being. But as she reconnects with the mortal plane after her dream, the flea becomes an infestation. She doesn't know where to begin, or how she can save her Clan.

She thinks back to Riverstar. The river that feeds the Lake. Was that what he was trying to tell her? That she has to follow it to the source?

STOP 1: RIVER WARD

The BB!Tribe is massively overhauled. The Tribe of Rushing Water defines themselves as three Wards (Cave, Mountain, River), connected by living on the same stretch of river.

From them, she learns about connections. They are simply able to call upon each other for all they need, there's no need to "appoint" someone to manage everything.

Families and friends hold each other accountable, networking and negotiating constantly. When the group must act as one, it casts stones.

Their Stoneteller is a religious leader, but all cats connect with their ancestors by personally interpreting omens, even without needing to go see him.

(Contrast to BB!Clans, whose Clerics are the KEEPERS of holy knowledge, and it is a sin to interpret StarClan's will on your own)

Yet, there are downsides. She can see ostracised cats who skirt at the edges of the Ward, especially the descendants of a particular group (called Flicks) that she learns once tried to invade the River Ward.

Though they welcome travellers and have a positive view of Clan cats as "family," she learns that they freeze out those who break taboo. Even for smaller offenses-- social faux pas and personal disputes have caused rifts within the Ward.

And the personal omen interpretation means that two cats can try and justify their feelings with religious commands, leveraging any "soothsayer" (particularly religious cats) connections they have like a social pissing match, unless they're both willing to get dragged to Stoneteller.

From all this, Frostpaw learns that she CAN connect to Riverstar and her ancestors, even if she can't speak to them... and that she must LISTEN. Not allow herself to twist her ancestor's words.

And all the Wards are connected, by the source of a river. Suddenly she answers her question.

"How could the world be big enough to contain a being like Riverstar?" Because water isn't all in one place. It's everywhere. It pools where it can and flows where it cannot.

And yet-- a single people is connected by its water. Three wards, one River. Five Clans, one Lake... three siblings, one belly.

Her heart aches thinking about Curlfeather.

She thinks of when quarreling Tribemates are brought to Stoneteller to arbitrate, and be taught the truth. Brought up the river, to its source at the waterfall.

That has to be it! The source, the BEGINNING.

Stop 2 would be WarriorClan as she heads south, but I'm not sure what they'd teach her yet lmao. Monkeystar says "Hi! Do you want to learn how to play a kazoo"

STOP 3... I'd want to rename the Park Cats. Maybe the New Park cats.

(evil brain: "Neopark. Make terrible petsite joke. Be reincarnated as a lotus flower)

There would also be a BIG recap of Ancient Park culture, and the River Kingdom. Frostpaw knows they had KINGS.

And a lot of aspects that modern Clan cats have-- ceremonial sparring, mentors and apprentices, the Law of the Deputy... those came out of the River Kingdom, before its collapse in the Code Era.

But these cats are NOTHING like the glorious tales of a Kingdom warrior. In fact... this is THE park!

THE park that was destroyed, which King Arc-of-Park lead his people away from. How could it have been ruined if it's still here?

(Reality: the Park was shrunk and landscaped. It was destroyed in that time to the perspective of cats. Maybe she'll have some visions of the past through meditation...)

But the survivors, and those who chose not to follow their King... they remained. And they continue to thrive.

Like canon, have them teach her the ability to meditate. Unlike Tribe cats, meditation is about SIGNS, not OMENS. Omens are physical. Signs are psychic.

(Also i like Bee so im probably gonna keep him as Frosty's yoga coach)

She sees Riverstar a few times, has details of Curlfeather's scheme revealed to her in enough chunks to piece together,

but is eventually bowled over when her best, most productive meditation yet... results in a black shadow.

He has a shining pearlstone adorning his head, and deep, wet pools for eyes. Very few other features can be made out, besides his paw, which is shockingly normal compared to his wraith-like body.

Somehow, Frostpaw understands she is looking at a Patron. But she doesn't know who he is until he tells her, he is King Arc-of-Park.

Though remembered, he is not invoked often. The details of his appearance are lost. All that remains of him is his paw-- carried on in a few expressions and the -paw suffix. The one which Frostpaw herself currently bears.

Since Riverstar, his beloved son, so rarely speaks in straightforward terms, he has come to give Frostpaw her answers.

But before she speaks, trembling with desire for finally FINALLY getting the truth, almost frozen by the sheer volume of things she needs to know, he stops and tells her,

"You have earned the truth, Frostpaw. Be not afraid to ask for what you are owed-- but we only have time for three questions, and I shall ask three in turn."

Question 1: "What did you need me to learn?"

"Many things. How to find your own answers. The perspective of the thousand eyes you've met. The wisdom that only a pilgrimage can bestow. I, too, was no leader before I brought my people up the river, and now you too must save RiverClan. Have you learned what we sought to teach?"

She feels unsure... "I don't think I can know if I have, until I go home."

Even though he has no mouth, she can hear his smile, "That is a yes, child."

Question 2: "What am I learning about RiverClan and its history, if these New Park cats are nothing like my Kingdom ancestors?"

He hums, "You have come to the source of the river, and are vexxed to not find the water that is already swirling downstream? No cat stands in the same river twice, for it is not the same river, and they are not the same cat. Are my people gone, Frostpaw, or do they live on?"

Stunned, her jaw hangs open ever so slightly. She thought she knew the answer right away, but his simple question becomes a riddle on her tongue.

He tells her not to worry. She does not need to answer his questions immediately, as they're running out of time. Ask your last.

Question 3: "...did my mom love me?"

IMMEDIATE, "she did. Child of my distant blood, she loved you like a king loves his prince. Ferociously, ambitiously... selfishly."

He cradles her face in his one, massive, silk-soft paw, like he's reaching out of the shadows, across time itself. His last question, "She put you in a terrible position, didn't she?"

A lifetime's worth of love and agony bubbles out of the kid, "SHE DID. She DID and I never did ANYTHING to deserve this, I did everything she told me, and I just wanted to make her happy, and... and i miss my mom."

When she returns from her trance, she's crying.

But her companions are here to help her unpack all of what she just learned.

Will probably end up letting her recruit a little DND party lmao... maybe one cat from each pit stop. Heartstar shouldn't be the only girlie who's allowed to get expansion packs.

Make a little found family here that Frostpaw returns home with.

RE: NOT. CONFIRMED YET. NONE of this is BB canon yet. Just thoughts I need to get down.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

drabble #13 - the massage

kai parker x reader

summary: kai's sure he'll win the bet. you're positive he won't.

tags: massage, teasing, clingy!kai, minor mention of murder (bc it's kai)

word count: 835

a/n: idk why i'm in my cheesy fluff era of writing, but here's more

“Relax,” you giggle, feeling his muscles tense. 

“I’m trying! It’s weird.”

“It’ll feel so much better if you stop moving around.”

“What are you even doing?”

“Trying to help you relax.”

Kai sighs, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. Nevertheless, he stops adjusting his position and takes a deep breath.

“There you go.”

He mumbles something incomprehensible, but you don’t respond. After a second, you start again. The massage tool in your hand makes a slightly squeaky sound as you run it up his back. You make circles on his shoulder blades, then inch up to his neck. He shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably.

“Kai!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Yes! I don’t know!”

“Pick one. Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t stop. I like it, it’s just weird.”

“I can be more gentle.” You do, but he only mumbles more.

“Now I can’t feel it at all.”

“Well then you’re going to have to sit still.”

“I just… what are you even holding?” Without much warning, he flips around to face you. The massage roller in your hand receives a weird stare that makes you laugh. “What even is that?”

“It’s a little tool that helps you relax by easing the knots in your neck and back. Now do you want me to continue, or not?”

“Where do you buy something like that?”

“Literally anywhere. Dollar Tree. Target.”

“I’ve never seen that in my life.”

“Your life has never lived in this decade, Malachai. You lived in the nineties for twenty years.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying! Things are different now. We have massage rollers.”

“Weird.”

“Unless you’d prefer to go to an actual massage person, but I bet you’d chicken out.”

He gives you a look. “Me? Chicken out? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Um, yes, actually. I’m talking to someone who would absolutely chicken out if anyone but me was touching them.”

“Bet you twenty dollars you’re wrong.”

“You don’t even have twenty dollars.”

“Yes I do.”

“From where? You-”

“Borrowed some the other day.”

“Borrowed?”

“Stole,” he corrects.

“You- Kai!”

“It’s okay! He was using it anymore!”

“Now why’s that? Is he dead?”

“...Maybe.”

“Kai, you can’t-”

“He shouldn’t have made that comment about you within my earshot. He had it coming.”

“Good lord, boy.”

“So twenty dollars I can get through this message-”

“Massage.”

“-thing you’re talking about. I win, you owe me.”

“Probably won’t happen.”

“Guess we’ll see.”

You’ll admit, Kai being anywhere without you gives you an extreme amount of anxiety. Not only because he’s a sociopathic serial killer, but also because you’re overprotective of him almost to a fault. Despite his bully-like attitude to many, he’s a child at heart. He’s gone through so much to make him the way he is, starting in early childhood, and you can’t bear for him to have anymore trauma. It’s probably toxic, thinking of him in such an endearing way, but you can’t help it. You love him. 

“It’ll be one hour, okay?” The massage therapist says as she takes him back. You nod your head at her and Kai’s little wink, then she brings him to the back. 

He bonded to you immediately. Maybe it was because you could see past the bad boy persona he donned on to gain respect. Maybe it was because you were the first to give him a second chance after the merge. Regardless of the reason, he learned you were a person he could trust, so he did. And even though all your friends tell you you’re brave to be friends with such a dangerous person, you’re there for him anyway. He’s pretty sure he loves you, even though he’s afraid to admit it. 

You pull out your phone to pass the time with a game, but no more than ten minutes later, the therapist returns to the waiting room. She catches your attention with a cough, to which you look up questioningly. 

“He’s asking for you,” she says. “I think he’s nervous.”

A little smile creeps on your face at the knowledge that you’ve won. You were right, and he was so determined he could beat you. “Okay.”

She brings you to the room where he’s lying down on the table. You can’t see his face until he pops up slightly to look at you. 

“Hi.”

“Hi there.”

Neither of you bring up the bet. Boy, he does look nervous. A non-joking Kai is a worried Kai, and for a split second, you wonder just how bad of an idea this is. 

“Can you just stay here?”

“Of course.”

“I’m gonna need you to relax,” the woman says, seeing the tension in his muscles before even touching him. 

You take his hand in hopes to reassure him. A little squeeze elicits a deep breath, and a lot of the strain drops. 

“Good. Let me know if you need anything.”

He shakes his head despite the awkward position on his stomach. “No,” he mutters, rather muffled, “just them.”

[anirritant]

You posted that you accept asks, and I'm curious: How would PMD2 Cresselia feel about Mainline Pokemon Cresselia?

Ahh I'm not sure I can answer for actual, canonical, mainline Cresselia. She has very little characterisation from what I can find..

But I will answer for how I'm writing Cresselia for this AU, which is somewhat based on fanon and headcanons, but mostly original traits thrown in just for this

Below is kinda a show of their dynamic lol

Ramblings under the cut

I haven't introduced the idea yet but eventually (like idk a year later??) the alternate lunar duo are confident they can keep PMD Darkrai under control and wanna try to help him and redeem him, despite the warnings of everyone else. PMD Cresselia, of course, thinks this is absolute lunacy lmao

PMD Cresselia has had to be vigilant and deal with her Darkrai's nonsense for a looong time, so she can't help but be a very skeptical and uncomfortable about this whole thing. Part of her still thinks this may be an elaborate scheme, and doesn't trust the alternate Darkrai. A benevolent Darkrai is almost incomprehensible to her lol, so seeing that and a second her that's attempting to befriend the very being that caused her so much trouble is... unnerving. She's trying to be polite but her instincts are screaming at her lol

PMD Cresselia thinks the alternate Cresselia isn't being cautious enough and is being taken advantage of, she thinks she's immature, so she gets quite concerned for her safety and keeps a close eye on her when she's with either Darkrai (which is unnecessary; the alternate Cresselia can defend herself just fine, but PMD Cresselia is paranoid anyway)