#its not a perfect fit for them but its sure a song!

[neptunesailing]

needed to draw rinniki.. (x)

[jaevy]

your room was square

i once noticed from there

in your bed, as you slept

and i held my breath

everything had its own place

and i wondered what space would i take

in the order you kept

[caruliaa]

concerned mother voice: what happened to little miss perfect you guys used to love little miss perfect

[modifiedyincision]

im going to be honest the "character playlists aren't what i think the character would listen to, it's songs that remind me of them" post does not sway me. i make playlists for my OCs. i do the same thing. but i don't care what the contents of the song individual song in question is, i simply cannot associate a punk/metalhead/emo/edgy/whatever character with a taylor swift song. playlists must also be about vibe. surely there are songs with a similar theme that are also not by her. class dismissed

[aethlingg]

so close to doing an analysis post on why ashe’s theme song is perfect for him and the lyrics even match him perfectly

[fionnaskyborn]

and TODAY ON "Songs Fionna can't listen to without them fucking her up immensely and remind her why she doesn't listen to them very often every time she listens to them", we have:

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Dance (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd attending a ball and being bored to tears until you appear in the crowd.

A/n- thanks to everyone who read and supported my other Feyd fic!! I hope you all enjoy this one too :)

Word Count: 1,353

Warnings: none

The ballroom is overrun with diplomats and politicians. All dressed up in their very best attire, each one is hoping to impress those richer and more influential than themselves.

Feyd observes with a bored demeanour, swirling the blood red wine in his goblet. He’s leaning against a white pillar, staring out at the people with keen dark eyes.

A celebration of this degree isn’t something to be missed, his Uncle had said, insisting on his attendance.

So he attends, although he is bored from the lack of any meaningful conversations or actions. The feast was the best part, his favourite piece a bloody rare steak that practically melted in his mouth.

No one has come to speak with him out of a desire to just chat. No, each person who spoke had an ulterior motive and fear in their eyes. They want to be on the Harkonnen’s good side, lest they become victims instead. So, they chat about inconsequential things, all the while their hands shake and betray their frayed nerves.

Feyd found it amusing at first, but has since grown tired of it. These fickle politics and the endless pursuit of money. Money and power make this universe worth living in.

Music begins to play, a sensual drum beat joined by the strumming of string instruments and an angelic vocalizer. The sea of mingling people part as they allow the dancers the necessary space to move.

Feyd’s lips curl as he watches people join in the dance, the ballroom finally used for its original purpose.

People in skin tight dresses, fashionable suits, those showing too much skin, some showing none- the room is flooded with a menagerie of humans.

Each one is dancing with a partner, bending and swaying to the rhythm. All accept one.

He watches her move in perfect synchronization with the lilting music, lifting her arms high in the air. She avoids the stuffy aristocratic dancers who hardly allow the music to carry them.

She looks like a woman possessed. As if the melody has taken root deep within her and bids her to perform a marvellous spell.

It must be a spell, for he finds himself bewitched.

No one else has captured his attention so profoundly this whole event. He hasn’t even spoken with her yet and oh how he wishes too.

He must.

Feyd has never before desired to dance. Not unless it was the dance of battle, of blades clashing and blood dripping.

You have changed that.

As he watches you deftly twirling and clapping gently to the song, he cannot stop his body from acting on its own accord.

And Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, fearsome warrior, finds himself pushing through the crowd to join you in your hypnotic dance.

You notice when the handsome stranger leaves his spot by the pillar, his eyes fixated only on you. You’re not sure how to feel.

During the dinner, you had walked by him on the way to your designated place. You’re from a minor house, not fit to sit with the guests from the major ones. Not that you minded, it’s always been this way.

He had caught your attention immediately. Brooding and gorgeous, with full, sensual lips and the palest skin you’ve ever seen, how could you resist admiring him?

He hadn’t noticed you then.

He notices you now.

A soft smile graces your lips as he reaches you, dark eyes boring into yours. You stop as he reaches out a sculpted hand.

You take it.

His hand is warm, and you can sense the strength hiding just beneath his skin. This man is dangerous, you realized that when you first spotted him.

To your surprise, he is an excellent dancer, leading you in perfect harmony to the music. You can barely hear the music over the pounding of your heart.

This wasn’t what you expected.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” you whisper once you’re close enough to hear each other.

His smirk is prideful, “A fighter must be lithe and nimble, my lady.”

His voice is raspy, deep. Again, you are taken by surprise.

“You must be an excellent warrior too.”

You spin around, his hand guiding you. He has dropped his smile, replaced it with a predatory look reminiscent of a hungry panther.

“The best,” he replies, supporting your back as he dips you downwards.

The other dancers seem to fade away as you dance with him, this frightening stranger. His touches are like a fire unto you, his gaze a steady burning.

He dances as if it’s a battle of dominance. He leads without hesitation, and you answer with the fluidity and grace befitting a lady.

It’s exhilarating.

And it’s gone too soon as the music dies down and the other clap for the musicians.

Breathing heavily, you simply stare at this man who joined you in rapturous movement, not wanting it to end.

He hasn’t let go of your hand.

You don’t want him to.

“What’s your name?” You ask before he can slip away and disappear forever. If he did, you’d at least want to remember his name.

He smirks, “You don’t know me?”

“No, or I would not have asked,” you point out.

He chuckles, revealing blacked teeth, “I am na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, my lady.”

You blink at this revelation. You’ve never met a Harkonnen before, let alone a such a high ranking one.

Feyd expects you to recoil in fright, surely knowing the brutality his house is known for. He is taken aback when you smile.

“I am pleased to meet you,” you in line your head slightly as you supply your own name.

He realizes his hand is still clasping yours and that you don’t seem to mind it one bit. Feyd gently tugs you towards him, “Come, it is too crowded here.”

Perhaps foolishly, you allow yourself to be led away from the ballroom and into a quiet hall.

It’s late, and you can see the stars through the sheer curtains of the hallway.

“Are you enjoying the festivities? You seemed unhappy,” you ask. “I saw you by the pillar.”

“I was bored,” he admits without care. “Before the dance.”

“And now?”

“And now I have welcome company and my boredom has fled in the wake of your beauty.”

He traces a hand, still so warm, down your cheek. You bask in the attention, wondering if this is all a dream you’ll wake from in a moment.

Feyd’s hand goes lower, until it grasps around your neck and tightens. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to still your breathing. With his grip tight, he pulls you forward and kisses you deeply.

It’s intoxicating.

He kisses like he dances, dominating and alluring. You bring your hands up to grip his shoulders as he continues his assault on your senses.

“Everything was dull until you danced into my sight,” he rasps as you catch your breath. “I’ve never seen such a vision.”

“I have never seen a man like you,” you confess, resting a hand on his chest. “You have such intensity…”

“Does it frighten you?”

“No, no it thrills me, my lord.”

The way those words roll off your tongue has Feyd hooked, his mouth latching onto your neck as he cups your face with one hand.

“Do you know what I’ve done?” He asks, unsure why he’s asking.

“I know you’ve danced beautifully,” you smile. “And I know your touch feels electrifying. And I know you’re going to take me into an empty room.”

You withdraw from him slightly, awestruck at the hunger in his eyes.

“And what happens then?”

He retakes your hand, not too gently this time, and practically drags you to the nearest room, slamming the pen the door.

Luckily, no one is in there.

“You know what happens next,” you say, already stripping him of his fine shirt before doing the same to yourself.

Feyd is glad he decided to come to this festival, thanking his lucky stars as he stares in awe at your beauty.

He wonders if you make love as spellbindingly as you dance.

He’ll soon find out.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Urban Cowboy - Jake Seresin x Reader

pairing: Jake Seresin x f! reader

warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v, mildly mean!dom Jake, teasing, jealous Jake

word count: 3.2k

The sounds of some 80s pop song echoed throughout the Hard Deck, a cheap colourful strobe light flashed around the room, its rainbow coloured beams striking random bargoers as they began to dance along to whatever was playing. It was new idea your aunt had come up with - doing theme nights at the bar once a month as a way to freshen things up and breathe new life into the military bar scene. 

Since you moved here four months ago, you’d gotten familiar with the regulars - there was Bradley Bradshaw, a man far older than he looked, with a penchant for comandeering the piano if the bar needed livening up, Natasha Trace, who had a fiery personality and often kept the other guys in their place, especially when the beers were flowing and they started flirting with unsuspecting patrons, Robert Floyd, the shy backseater who was always polite, tipped well and seemed to be the permanent designated driver on nights out, Reuben Fitch, who stood about a foot taller than you, and always had a witty comeback on hand, just in case, Mickey Garcia, who was sweet, but could talk anyone’s ear off about Star Trek, and Javy Machado, resident score keeper and pool table champion. 

Leading the group, was your Aunt Penny’s boyfriend, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. He often would come in, finding a table at the back of the room for his squad before abandoning them to spend the evening at the bar, chatting your aunt up and offering up any excuse to come behind the bar and sneak a hand to her hip or steal a squeeze of her rear. It was sweet the way your aunt and Pete were loved up, like a couple of teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

This afternoon, Pete came in at four o’clock sharp, just as he promised to help set up. As he hung a couple of decorations you and your aunt had managed to find online, he turned to you and smiled, watching as you prepped the theme night’s cocktail menu.

“I forgot to tell you, another one of my guys is going to be here tonight. He’s been off training at a different base for the last few months, just landed in this morning. You’ll like him. He’s a firecracker.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying he’s a cocky asshole?”

“I wouldn’t say asshole. He’s just very…confident. I think you’ll like him though.”

“Are you talking about Jake?” Penny piped up as she looked at Pete, watching as he climbed up the step ladder to hang another decoration from the ceiling.

“Yeah, don’t you think they’d hit it off?”

“I think she might hit him.”

“What? No way. Jake’s not that bad.”

Penny scoffed and shook her head, laughing. Holding her hands up in surrender, she walked away, retreating back to the bar to begin making sure all the key ingredients to your drink menu were where they needed to be. You continued to stuff the evening’s special menus into their plastic protective sleeves, shaking your head at Pete’s attempts to try and set you up with someone from his squad. It wasn’t the first time, you’d been on a date with Bradley once before, but found the age gap was too great between the two of you, with Bradley in complete agreement that you were much better suited as friends than lovers, and on a date with Reuben, who, despite efforts between the two of you, there was no chemistry shared there. 

As five o’clock approached, you hurried into the back stockroom to change into your themed outfit for the night, pulling your hair out of the velcro rollers that Penny had helped you wrap your hair up into, creating the perfect 80s voluminous curl that would make even Christie Brinkley jealous. Your tight fitting Daisy Duke style shorts accentuated your curves, hugging your thighs and hips in all the right places, your crisp white button down shirt tied just under your bra, showing off your tanned, soft midsection. A pair of mid-sized silver hoop earrings hung from your earlobes to complete the look. Your aunt’s stash of Aqua-Net hairspray was all you needed to finish it off, stepping out the back door to shake your curls out and spray them with enough hairspray to ensure they wouldn’t budge for the night. 

You reentered the bar to find Pete’s friends piling in, the other regular patrons all trickling in and getting comfortable as they came through, turning the bar into a sea of cheesy fake mustaches and 80s style Hawaiian shirts, brightly coloured polos and coordinating Bermuda shorts, wigs and legwarmers. The evening was quickly livening up, and you got to work behind the bar with your aunt, pulling pints and mixing drinks, firing off orders left right and center as the bar filled with partygoers. 

An hour into the night, Bradley approached the bar, his aviator sunglasses perched atop his chocolate coloured curls, his loud, brightly coloured Hawaiian print shirt buttoned just enough to allow a few sparing curls of chest hair to peek out from the top. He leaned against the bar, smiling at you, his mustache neatly combed to closer resemble a style from the 80s. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was trying to emulate Tom Selleck. You’d seen pictures of Bradley’s dad and Pete from back in the 80s, and recognized the shirt anywhere. It was clear Bradley was dressed identically to his father, and you had to admire the dedication he had to the theme. 

“What can I get you, Bradshaw?”

“Hi dollface, I’ll take a Budweiser. And a chance to take you for a spin later?”

“We’ve done this before, Bradley,” you laughed as you cracked the top off the beer bottle and slid it across the counter to him. Bradley shook his head as he sipped the frothy liquid, grinning as he set the bottle down on the counter.

“I didn’t mean you. I’m practicing. I can’t be dressed like this and not use some kind of weird 80s shit to impress a girl, right? I’m just…using you for practice. Did it work?”

“Bradley, why don’t you, I don’t know, just, be yourself?” 

“Because tonight I’m not myself. I’m some single 39 year old in the 80s trying to get a date, apparently.”

“Well then, gag me with a spoon, that was gnarly. Try a different line. One that doesn’t begin with “dollface”?”

“Got it, thanks!”

You watched as Bradley sauntered away to go try his luck with a pretty blonde over by the jukebox. You smirked to yourself as you heard Bradley start singing along to Madonna, carrying the tune with an impressive baritone that you weren’t expecting. You knew he could sing, but singing Madonna was a whole new side to him. Turning your back for a moment, you began fixing a drink for yourself, mixing together the ingredients for a Shirley Temple. You looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered blonde man approach the bar counter, his hair slicked back, and a blonde mustache that made poor Bradley’s look unimpressive rested on his upper lip. The most stunning pair of bright green eyes looked at you, and a set of perfectly straight, whitened teeth fresh out of a Colgate commercial flashed a smile at you.

“Hi Darlin’, I’ll take whatever’s on tap.”

“Sure thing,” You nodded, trying hard not to audibly gulp at the adonis of a man standing in front of you. 

“Are you new ‘round here?” he drawled, “I’d remember a pretty face like yours.”

“Uh, within the last four months, yeah.” you nodded as you finished pulling a pint of draught for him, the frothy head of the beer perfectly resting in the glass. 

“Oh! That’ll explain it. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, at your service, m’am.” He winked, and you felt yourself melt a little at the sight of this human embodiment of a Ken doll flirting with you. 

“You’re Jake?”

“Depends who’s askin’, Honey.” His accent was thick and heavy, something straight out of those reruns of The Andy Griffiths Show that your mom made you watch when you were a child.

“I’m Penny’s niece,” you nodded, giving him your name and laughing softly as your cheeks blushed, “I moved down here to help her out with things around here while I try to figure some life things out.”

“I see,” he smirked, sipping his beer, the foam brushing against his mustache as he set the glass down. “And does that list of things you’re figuring out include finding a strong, charming, handsome Southern boy?”

“It might, do you know any?” You quipped, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your own drink, pretending to feign disinterest in the handsome stranger before you.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“That so, hun? Who? Do I know him?”

“Not yet, but I think he sure would like to know you, Darlin’.”

You shook your head, your curls bouncing as you started to laugh, unable to control yourself. Jake was as bold as he was handsome, and you were suddenly realizing what Pete was referring to when he said that Jake was confident. He practically exuded a cocksure confidence from every pore in his body. And while that would normally repulse you and send you heading for the hills, with Jake, it felt different. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, his magnetic charms and graces pulling you in, and your inhibitions wearing down. However, you also knew how to deal with men like this - he was in need of an ego check, and you were just the person for the job. 

“Is that right? Well, you tell your little Southern-fried wannabe cowboy of a friend that if he’s interested, he’s going to have to stick around the bar all night. I promised Aunt Penny I’d help her make sure this night went smoothly, and I don’t need a knockoff Dukes of Hazzard cast member distracting me.” 

“Wannabe cowboy?” Jake gasped in feigned offence, clutching his chest dramatically as he slipped into an even thicker accent than earlier, “Now Darlin’, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re breakin’ my heart over here. One thing I ain’t is a wannabe cowboy. You know, I used to ride in rodeos as a kid? Was one of the best there was for under 15 year olds, ‘til I decided to join the Navy instead.”

“Oh, so you’re like, a real cowboy then,” you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“S’pose you could say that. Only one real way to find out, ain’t there?”

“Take you to a farm and watch you wrangle cattle on horseback?” you retorted sarcastically.

“You’re funny, I like that.”

“I bet you do.” 

Jake leaned in across the bar, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at you, his bright green eyes fixated on your lips as you spoke. His long eyelashes fluttered at you as he eyed you up, practically undressing you with his imagination. You grinned as you gestured to the sign behind you, reading that if you disrespect a lady, you owe everyone a round. 

“Watch it, Lieutenant. If you’re not careful, I’ll go ring that bell and you’ll learn a very expensive lesson.”

“Oh, Darlin’, I can guarantee, I ain’t gonna learn anything from it. I’m just dumb enough to do it again. Can’t help myself around a pretty girl like yourself.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you laughed at his relentless attempt. You knew the only reason he persisted was because you were teasing him, but at the same time, you didn’t mind the attention he was giving you. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, or as broad shouldered, but he was built like a linebacker, with a solid frame and the accent alone was enough to drive you crazy.

It was almost 11 when Jake stopped you again, this time, outside of the stockroom when you’d disappeared back there for more maraschino cherries and pineapple juice. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, causing his pastel-coloured polo shirt to bulge around his biceps. His lips curled up in that annoyingly perfect smile once again as he stood in your path.

“Hey, Honey, need a hand with that?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you shrugged it off, shaking your head as you smirked at him, “You often follow girls into storage rooms?”

“Only the ones worth following.”

“Wow, Lieutenant, with a response like that, it’s a wonder you don’t have a trail of broken hearts following you around.”

“What is your issue, anyway? You got a thing against blondes? Pilots?”

“Please,” you smirked, shaking your head, “I went on a date with Rooster. He’s a pilot.”

“Is it ‘cause I’m from Texas?”

“No, it’s because you’re probably the most arrogant prick I’ve ever had the displeasure of coming across, actually. God, it’s like you think all you have to do is flash that stupid handsome smile and I’ll throw myself at you.”

Jake’s face fell slightly as he raised an eyebrow at you. You could tell he wasn’t used to having a girl put him in his place like this, but his crestfallen gaze was quickly replaced by that shit-eating grin he seemed to never go without sporting. 

“Honey, you’re real pretty when you get mean like that.”

“You’re impossible,” you sighed in exasperation.

“But you love it, don’t you?” 

Jake closed the gap between the two of you as he spoke, taking a couple steps closer to you. You bit your lip as you hesitated, thinking about the consequences that might follow if you acted on your desires. 

Fuck it. 

Your hands gripped the fabric of his polo shirt, pulling him down to your height as you crashed your lips into his passionately. You kissed a slow, hot trail up to his ear, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he put his hands on your hips to bring you in as close as possible, his body heat radiating on to you. 

“You gonna show me just how good you are, Cowboy?”

“Yes, m’am. I reckon I could show you a better time than any other man in here.”

Jake’s hand slipped down your curves, reaching around to cup your ass cheeks as he hoisted you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around your waist. You quickly discarded the cherries and juice that were in your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Jake’s lips worked their way along your neck, wet, fervent kisses that made your body squirm with pleasure, your arousal growing and burning in your stomach with each second. 

“Back door?” He murmured against your neck, his hands keeping a firm hold of your ass.

“Two steps behind me, to the left,” you panted, nodding your head as he sucked on your skin. 

It was unseasonably warm for May, the humidity hanging in the air as you left the air conditioned building. Jake pushed you up against the wall, using it as leverage as he quickly reached down to undo your shorts and wiggled them out of the way. He ran two of his thick fingers along the outside of your lace underwear, stroking the dampened fabric as he smirked to himself.

“Someone’s eager, aren’t ya, Darlin’?”

“Just shut up and fuck me, ok?”

“Now, that any way to ask for it?”

A wicked grin appeared on his face as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, stroking at your clit with a feather light touch, just enough to make you whine for more. 

“Jake, I swear to fuck, if you don’t take me right now.”

“Shhh, Sugar, don’t want anyone to hear, do ya? Unless you get off on getting caught,” He purred as he coaxed his fingertips inside of your dripping entrance, pumping them into you with precision.

You tossed your head backwards as Jake thrusted his fingers further into you, each movement harder and faster than before. The determined look in his eye alone was almost enough to send you over the edge. This man was hell-bent on making you orgasm, and he was on the right track to get you there within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, s-so close, Jake,” you keened, your fingers gripping his thick blonde hair as he brought you to your climax.

“That’s it, Sugar. Look at you, you’re a mess and I ain’t even started on you yet.”

“J-Jake, please,” you whimpered, coming undone as he fucked his fingers into you at a breakneck pace.

“Speak up, sweetheart, can’t hear ya.”

Your head started to spin as he pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he slammed his hips forwards, shoving his thick cock inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy at the sudden fullness. Trying to be quiet, you secretly thanked your lucky stars that the sounds of Your Love by The Outfield blared throughout the club. Just as the chorus picked up, Jake rocked his hips forwards again, fucking himself into you with enough force to make you feel as though he might blow your back out right then and there.

“That’s it, Sugar, takin’ me so well,” Jake smirked, “What was that you said about bein’ a wannabe cowboy? Bet those other boys can’t fuck you like this, now can they?”

You were practically rendered speechless by Jake’s precise, rhythmic thrusts into your cunt, his masculine grunting and teasing proving enough to throw you back over the edge once again. Your legs began to shake and shudder while he bucked his hips up into you, his eyes full of lust and hunger as he brought you to your second orgasm of the night. Your walls clenched around him tightly, eliciting a low, pornographic moan out of Jake. 

Raking your fingers through his hair, tugging on it as you threw your head back, you screamed out his name, louder than you intended. You lost your ability to hold yourself together as Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, his own orgasm following close behind yours. 

“Fuck, am I good?” He groaned, his eyes pleading for permission.

“On the pill, you’re good,” you panted, nodding quickly as Jake let himself go inside of you, your name falling from his lips like a sacred prayer as he repeated it over and over, praising you.

“Now, how ‘bout letting a strong, handsome Southern boy take you out on a date so he don’t feel so bad about fucking you until you can’t walk a couple hours after meetin’ ya?” He grinned as he readjusted himself and pulled his clothes back up. 

“I think I can fit you into my schedule, on one condition.”

“Mhmm? What’s that?”

“Next time, you come wearing a cowboy hat.”

“Deal, Sugar, I’ll even let you wear it.” 

[zepskies]

Big & Tall

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You steal Sam’s shirt. But that simple theft comes at a big price.

Request: Can you write something where Sam notices the reader wearing his shirt?

Song Inspo: “Look At You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, thievery, kitchen shenanigans, implied smut, tinge of angst and feels.

It was an honest mistake, really.

After the latest hunt, Sam graciously offered to let you wash your clothes here in the bunker (since most of them were bloodstained). You had to pull a finished load from the dryer before you could use it, not knowing if it was Sam or Dean’s clothes you were shoving into a nearby basket.

When you later went back for your clothes in the dryer, you’d apparently grabbed one of Sam’s black undershirts in all the fabric shuffling.

An accident. Though you hadn’t realized it until you were back in the comfort of your borrowed room in the bunker, sitting on your bed and folding your laundry.

You pulled out one of those big-and-talls and took one good look—and you knew it could only fit perfectly on Sam Winchester’s extra-long torso.

A smile unconsciously drew across your face.

You knew you should just bring it over to him. His room was a mere two doors down the hall…but instead, you gave into the quiet, secret urge to fold it up and put it with the rest of your laundry, knowing full well you were going to use it from now on as a sleep shirt.

The thing was so long it reached halfway down your thighs. (AKA: the perfect length.) But you really didn’t think he would miss an old-ass undershirt like this one.

The next morning, you made sure you were dressed in some pajama pants, your most comfortable bra, and an old college shirt before you ventured out of your room and into the kitchen.

Predictably, Sam was already up and dressed for the day, making some coffee. It was early enough that Dean was likely asleep, or at least still getting himself together.

Sam turned and greeted you with a smile. “Morning.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded groggily, though you offered him a “pleasant” smile before you accepted a coffee mug from him.

Sam’s smile deepened slightly. He knew you weren’t a morning person. He sipped at his own mug while you held yours with both hands, raising it slowly to your lips. You closed your eyes at its hazelnut warmth; trust him to stock the fridge with your favorite creamer. You hummed in delight.

Sam’s gaze was warm on you too, though you didn’t realize it.

“Hey, uh…we’re running low on stuff. Want to go somewhere for breakfast?” he asked.

You met his gaze and had to stifle your smile this time.

“Sure,” you nodded. “Want to wait for Dean?”

Sam shrugged. “We can bring him something back.”

Interesting. Your smile grew, despite your best efforts.

“Okay. Let me just get dressed,” you said.

And maybe you’d put a little makeup on, fix your frizzy bedhead. Apparently you and Sam were going on a brunch date.

Not a real one though, you rolled your eyes at yourself as you trekked down the hall. You had known the Winchesters for a couple of years now, and had gone through some real scrapes together whenever they needed your help, or vice versa. They were quickly becoming part of your people. Your family.

…But never more than that, it seemed.

Your smile slowly fell before you reached your room. You just couldn’t know that Sam was staring after you, down the hall, with a similar contemplation on his face.

“Think Dean’ll crap his pants when he sees the Impala’s gone?” you remarked. You were the passenger while Sam drove. You knew he must've been savoring this, as it was one of the few times he’d ever sat in that seat.

“I left him a note,” Sam replied in amusement.

“Aw, damn,” you teased. “Here I thought we were going on Mission Impossible.”

He shook his head, but his smile kicked up at the corners. He paused when something occurred to him. 

“Hey, by the way.” He turned to you in askance. “Did you happen to see one of my shirts when you were doing laundry yesterday?”

You perked up internally, but you tried to school your features into something more nonchalant. Casual. Yeah.

“Uh, no,” you replied. Somehow, even that small lie made you feel a prickle of guilt. “What color was it?”

“Black,” he said. Good thing he was focused on pulling into the diner’s parking lot, and not on your blushing face. “Can’t seem to find it.”

You averted your gaze and bit the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t smile.

“Sorry, haven’t seen it. I’ll keep a lookout though.”

After a nice morning with Sam (you brought back a breakfast burrito for Dean), you spent the rest of the day catching up on Game of Thrones with the brothers.

It was nice to have a rare day off, even if you spent most of it trying to ignore how your thigh was resting against Sam’s. How you could feel his warmth radiating from his arm, laid behind your head on the couch, and how if you’d just leaned over a few inches, you could’ve been resting against his flannel-covered chest.

God. You’re such a girl, you inwardly lamented at yourself. Fucking c’est la vie.

At their insistence, you spent another night at the bunker while you rested up. That werewolf hunt had been particularly brutal on everyone, especially your wounded side. It was already starting to heal, but would definitely be uncomfortable while driving.

Now, ordinarily you weren’t one to let that keep you down…though it did give you an excuse to stay a little while longer.

When you all finally called it a night, you took a long, hot shower and pulled on the shirt over your underwear. It now kind of felt like contraband, but that thought also amused you. It also made you feel closer to him, in whatever small, pathetic way.

You spent the next couple of hours trying and failing to fall asleep in your room. You tried listening to music, daydreaming, even counting damn sheep for what that was worth, but your brain was wide awake. 

You blew out an irritated sigh into the darkness and silence.

And then your stomach growled. Ugh, fine!

You got up. It was late enough at night that you didn’t bother changing clothes, lest you be spotted by a wild moose. You just padded out barefooted down the hall and into the kitchen, where you raided the fridge.

Geez, Sam was right about them being low on options, you thought as you perused a damn near empty fridge. There was milk and creamer, a couple cases of beer (of course), some crumpled ketchup packets, and a half-eaten burger that already had something fuzzy growing on it.

This is just sad. You grimaced, but you stuck your head in closer to see if you could find anything in the back. If you only knew about the hot gaze on your ass.

“Midnight snack?”

The voice, though familiar, startled the shit out of you. You banged your head on the edge of the freezer door when you jumped on reflex. You cried out and your hand flew to the back of your head, just before a larger hand covered yours.

You glanced up at found Sam’s handsome face—very apologetic, but somehow silently laughing.

“Uh, sorry. You okay?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied. You faltered a bit as you realized how close he’d gotten, staring down at you with those earnest hazel eyes. But those eyes soon dipped and took in the rest of you…clad in only a black shirt that brushed your bare thighs.

You watched it start to compute on his face, in the tilt of his head, and the subtle raise of his brows.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked.

Your lips twitched, despite your blushing embarrassment.

“No,” you replied.

His gaze flicked up to yours. He smiled a little incredulously.

He knew you were a filthy liar. But you slipped your hand from under his and crossed your arms under your breasts, leading him to drop his hand from your hair.

“It’s soft…and comfy,” you said lamely. And you wished it smelled like him.

Sam was amused, and a little surprised…and undoubtedly turned on. He couldn’t help but notice your bare legs, the smooth expanse of skin, the suggestion of curves under his shirt, and the firm peaks of your nipples through the fabric.

“Okay. You can keep it,” he said, when his gaze finally drew back up to yours. “For a price.”

Your face felt hot. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth for a moment, but somehow you managed to answer him.

“Name it,” you said gamely. Your stance became an unspoken challenge.

Sam’s lips drew closer to a smile.

He reached for your chin and tilted your face up towards his. There was a moment of uncertainty there, as if he was giving you time to pull away, if you wanted to.

The truth was, you were holding your breath. It felt like you’d been waiting a small eternity for this exact moment.

Your arms uncrossed. Slowly you reached for him, grabbing onto the front of his blue flannel, and he bent down to you. When his lips finally touched yours, it almost short-circuited your brain. You inhaled deeply and melted a bit, raising your hand to the back of his head to keep him there.

You felt the gentle way he caressed your cheek, and later the strength in his hands when he molded them to the curve of your waist and pulled you in close. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, and the kiss became a fierce, sloppy meeting of lips.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and sought entrance. You welcomed him in with a wordless moan.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails grazing his scalp. It earned you a deep sound of pleasure from his mouth into yours. Soon enough, those same strong hands were roaming down your waist and hips, then squeezing your ass, and pressing you against the hard planes of his body. You also felt the hardening length of him against your stomach.

“Sam,” you gasped against his lips.

That seemed to pull him out of the frenzied haze. Panting for breath though he was, he broke from you, pulling away far enough to look down at you with furrowed brows. There was a question in his eyes that he still voiced.

“Too much?” he asked.

It was a loaded question, but you thought you could read them all.

Do you want this? Do you really want me? We can stop…

Your answer was simple. You pulled yourself up on your toes and claimed his lips with a devouring kiss. Sam’s eyes closed on a sharp inhale, but his hold on you tightened again. He bent down to move his hands down the back of your thighs, and he squeezed twice, wordlessly encouraging you to jump for him.

You had electricity in your veins and a warm pulsing between your thighs. In your frazzled state, you did your best to jump up, but he helped you the rest of the way. You were able to wrap your legs around his waist, though you let out a small yelp at being vaulted so high.

Now you had the rare privilege of looking down at Sam’s amused face. You smiled down at him, caressing his cheek.

“I think I want a tour of your room,” you said.

“Good,” Sam replied. Despite the care he took in how he held you, you saw the hunger in his eyes. “I could go for a midnight snack.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that. You clung to his shoulders as he carried you down the hall and into his room, where he locked the door behind him.

The man was a furnace, you discovered, after your skin was dewy and glistening against his, and the sheets laid tangled between your bare legs.

He held you to his chest while he recovered on his back. You rested there, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat slowly coming down from its race. His fingertips traced lazy patterns up and down your naked back.

Sam had taken great pleasure in tossing the shirt along with his other clothes onto the floor. Your panties had been flung to parts unknown.

You smiled at the thought, while your nails made delicate tracks of their own across his slightly furry chest.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked you. Quiet and steady.

With a sigh, you pushed up onto your elbow on his pillow, so you could see his face. Your hand found his cheek. There his stubble pricked against your palm, and you drew your thumb tenderly across his his lower lip.

“I’m hoping you want more from this than one…very awesome night,” you confessed.

Sam smiled, reaching up to grasp your wrist gently. It was a different kind of touch, where just a few moments ago, he’d pushed your body damn near to its limits. And yet, he knew his own strength. Controlled, even in his bed.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, though his eyes gradually fell from your face. “I’ll be honest, it uh…scares me a little.”

“What does?” you asked with a frown. You waited until he looked up at you again.

“This matters to me,” he said at last. “You matter to me.”

And the people that mattered all too often got taken away from him.

Your throat constricted. Because in his wary eyes, you could almost see the thoughts that were likely plaguing his mind. Things that might’ve kept him from this night with you for so long.

In that moment, you made a decision. You lowered down to press a gentler kiss to his lips.

“Then let’s give it a try,” you said.

AN: It got a little angstier than I intended there at the end lol, but I went with it! I so hope you guys enjoy this. I love me some Sam. 💜

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[a-sapphic-love]

🎧- e.w mindbreak

summary: in which ellie gifts reader an odd pair of headphones, and weird things start to happen.

warnings: MDNI!!!!, dom!ellie, sub!reader, manipulation, smuttt, mindbreak, hypno, bdsm, smoking blunts/ weed use, freeuse, exhibitionism, probably more that i forgot to list

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my first ellie fic- enjoy! (tips and such are appreciated)

you're at work one day, humming at your desk as you finish up a task when your coworker ellie comes up to you.

you both don't talk much, but she's always been nice to you. its kind of weird, since she's cold to your other coworkers, but you don't think too much of it.

"hey, i got these headphones and customized them for my friend, but it turns out she doesn't really use them. your old pair broke, right? so i guess you could have these." she says, smiling. such a sweet gesture!

"oh, thank you! ive been wanting a new pair!" you say, returning the warm smile, and ellie hands you a box with some black headphones on them.

you're surprised when you open the box to find pink headphones, and they seem to be a little modified. ellie is long gone so you can't really ask, but you assume it's because the headphones were supposed to be for a friend of hers.

you put the headphones on, and they fit comfortably, so you decide to just start using them. you play some music, but are confused to realize something's wrong. there's an odd frequency playing.

so you just play a different song, except you keep hearing that same frequency. you stop playing the music to see, and think everything's normal again until you listen close and the frequency is still there.

you were raised by a family that was against waste, so you decide to just suck it up and use the headphones anyway. plus, after wearing them for a few days, you find every time ellie sees you with the headphones on, she just looks so excited. probably just really happy to see you using her gift.

however, odd things begin to happen. suddenly, every time you see ellie your panties get all sticky and you just want to follow her around like a lost puppy.

plus, you're getting worse and worse at your job. you start to forget things, or just simply ignore them. because now, all you spend your time at work doing is looking for ellie. she seems to already know you're getting dumber, and she helps with all the 'big girl things' you just can't do anymore.

"hi, angel, you need help right?" she coos every time you come find her to do something for you. "im so proud of you for coming to get me, i know you can't do it by yourself. it's okay..." and her gentle praise only makes your cunt leak more.

your boss sees how you don't really work anymore and gets angrier, much to ellie's advantage. one day, she takes you into the washroom and shows you a video.

one big, sparkly pink spiral is plastered on her phone screen, and she connects your headphones so you can hear the audio -

"you feel so good with your little pussy all wet, all you want are some orgasms right? you don't think any more, you only get dumber and dumber..." and the video trails off.

it feels like hours that you stand there staring at the screen, hypnotized. you feel her hands on your body, touching your nipples and squeezing your boobs. "you want an orgasm right? wanna cum so bad, but you can't do it yourself? come with me, ellie will help." she coos, and your horny broken mind only wants to listen.

ellie takes you to her house, something she's been wanting to do for a long time, "just had to make sure you were dumb enough," she thinks to herself.

she brings you into her room where there's a little cage all perfect for you, with your new favourite color: pink. she ties you up, all pretty, with an even prettier pink ball gag. you squirm a little, confused. you're not completely dumb yet, and ellie's annoyed by that fact.

luckily, there's a good solution. "it's okay princess, ellie will break that mind of yours, alright?" she says, teasingly. now that she has you all for herself, she doesn't need to keep up the nice act.

ellie leaves you to struggle briefly, before coming back with a small egg-shaped vibrator. she tapes it right on top of your clothed clit, before continuing to play hypno files.

you squirm, even though it hurts with all the tight ropes, at the feeling of the vibe. not only have you gotten soo much dumber, you're also needier. without really meaning to, you mumble a series of broken pleas through the gag. you don't care that ellie hypnotized you and is actively trying to break you. all you want is to cum.

ellie smiles when she notices you moving your hips, desperate for more friction. she presses down on the vibe before sliding her hands up your shirt to rub your nipples. the look in your big, teary eyes makes her clit throb.

"come on, know you wanna cum your brains out, so just do it. cum for me angel," she teases, and it sends you over the edge fast. finally, you break, her dumb little nympho toy.

she unties you quickly and removes the gag before taking all your clothes off. "good girls don't wear clothes if they don't need to... right, baby?"

"yes ellie!" you respond, nearly drooling from how good your last orgasm was- and how badly you want another one. ellie immediately takes her pants off when she hears how you say her name. she wants to fuck you soo bad already

shit, and the look in your eyes- like not a single thought passes through your head, ever. that's how she knows you're broken.

ellie lights a blunt fast, and you find yourself practically humping the floor at how hot she is when she smokes. the air in her room seems to get heavier, and it's greenish-yellow tinted. long puffs, and she takes a few hits before turning to you. "always wanted to do this, since the day i first saw that stupidly cute little face," she whispers, chuckling.

she takes a hit, and this time she blows it in your face. you cough, disoriented by the sudden sensation but you love every second of it. and you're happy to be obedient because maybe that means another orgasm- fuck, you just want to cum again.

lucky for you, ellie does too. she picks you up and throws you on her bed, kissing your pretty lips until you can't feel them. she stops momentarily, opening her drawer and getting her strap, a vibrator, and something else you can't see.

you realise what it is when you feel your nipple get pinched harshly, ellie put nipple clamps on you. you whine a little, but come to be... okay with the sensation. you just want to please ellie, after all.

and anyway, being so good for her pays off. you know for sure when she's 8 inches deep inside of you, stuffing your face inside a pillow with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other.

"you gonna make a mess, hm? you gonna make a mess for ellie?" she says, leaning over to kiss your swollen lips. "mhm, yesyesyesyes, 'm gonna make a mess for ellie, fu-u-uckkk, els," you whimper, and you know it's exactly what she wants to hear.

the base of the strap absolutely abuses ellie's clit, and it's not long before her movements become frantic and she gets even meaner. "yeah, you gonna cum your brains out again like a little whore? yeah?" she groans, slapping your ass harshly.

"say it, say you're a stupid whore for ellie," she says, when she doesn't hear a response. she's right about to cum, she just needs to hear you admit it.

"i-im a stupid whore for ellie!" you whine, having your third- or was it your fourth? orgasm since ellie broke you. it didn't matter how many you had, you just wanted more.

ellie nearly felt the same way. having her own little toy, it was too good just thinking about the possibilities.

after that day, ellie tried out all the things she'd been wanting to do. she brought you to work with her, except now you went so you could be the cum dumpster of the office, going under tables to eat your former coworkers out until they came all over your face.

she took you to the park, so she could humiliate you by making you hump random things. she took you to the library, so she could make you ask the female staff about books while controlling the vibrator in your panties,

even at home, ellie humiliated you by making you clean or do gardening outside with a skirt and no panties. anyone sensible would have been way to embarrassed to keep doing these things.

except you didn't really have a problem with your new life, because you always got orgasms, and that was all your dumb, broken slutty brain ever wanted.

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this account supports palestine 🇵🇸❤️

do not buy any tlou games! neil druckmann, the creator, is a zionist who's funding a genocide! do not give him your money!

https://www.tumblr.com/sulfurcosmos/732456971539775488/how-you-can-help-palestine

[yourfatherlucifer]

Young God (PSH)

Angel!Seonghwa x afab!reader

Summary: "Y'know my tongue is a weapon. There's a light in the crack that's separating your thighs and if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight."

Warnings: MDNI, oral (fem rec.), innocence corruption, overstim, crying, rough sex, dom!seonghwa, becoming a fallen angel, cursing, mentions of going to hell, biblical mentions.

AU: Angel

Genre: Smut

WC: 778

Rating; R

Nets: @wonderlandnet @kflixnet @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @pirateeznet

Taglist: @k-hotchoisan @wooyoungqueen @stardragongalaxy

Song: Young God by Halsey

(this is the filthiest thing ive ever written omg)

PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

"Oh, my pretty thing. My God created you perfectly, so perfect." His hand trailed down your face as you trembled beneath him, becoming to hot in your own clothes.

"Too bad I must corrupt you, for I have fallen for you." Seonghwa smirked, sitting up, removing himself from straddling your thighs.

"Seonghwa..what are you gonna do?" your own voice betrayed you as it cracked.

He smiled, "Well, if you wanna go to heaven, my pretty, you should fuck me tonight." His wings fluttered behind him, "though, I have a feeling, after I'm done with you, I'm sure neither of us will return to heaven. I am going to corrupt your pure soul."

Seonghwa leaned forward and ripped your shirt in half, staring at your still covered breasts, "tsk. such an annoying thing."

You gasped as he ripping your bra off as well, he wore a smirk the whole time.

How did you not see something as beautiful as Seonghwa, an angel, be so filthy, so corrupting? Something sculpted by God himself, but with the personality of a sex devil. Something whose white wings were huge and blinding.

Seonghwa could see the tears in your eyes building up, "My dear, do you not want this?" He leaned forward to wipe away your tears.

"I do, Seonghwa, I just - I've never done anything like this."

Seonghwa sighed, "I figured as much, darling, that is why I want it to be me who corrupts you. Not a human, not anyone or anything else. Me." His voice became authoritative, it was frightening but oh-so-hot.

He stopped caressing your face and moved down to your waist, pulling down your bottoms with the underwear.

You became nervous, what was was he going to do?

You could feel his hot breath hovering over your wet cunt, 'Y'know, Y/N, my tongue is my weapon after all. I'd say its like the serpent who corrupted Eve."

His two hands placed a strong grip on your thighs to keep them from moving, he was about to feast and didn't want you stopping him with them.

Seonghwa's nose brushed along your clit as his tongue tested the waters of your weeping hole.

You couldn't help but moan and arch your back at this feeling that is foreign, something you've never felt. Pleasure they called it. A new experience for you.

His tongue darted in and out of your hole, dragging itself along the rubbery walls, tears were pouring down your face, "Seonghwa!" You cried out.

He simply ignored you, wanting to stay with his meal. He let your hand fly to his hair, his wings flapping in response.

Seonghwa removed himself before you could ever cum, he wants to feel it around him.

You had whined in response when he moved away, "Why?"

"Patience."

He removed his white robe, letting it fall to ground below your bed.

His hard cock stood proudly, its tip already leaking in excitement, he was definitely well endowed.

Your eyes widened as you sat up, "Seonghwa, I- is that even gonna fit?"

He cackled, "Of course it will."

Seonghwa climbed back onto the bed, a smirk on his face, his black hair dangling in front of his eyes, which were now hooded and filled with pure lust. Something you should never see on a regular angel.

He stroked his cock in front of you, letting low moans fall from his mouth, "Fuck, I cannot wait to be inside of you, my pretty thing."

You waiting eagerly as he poked the tip to your entrance, pain began to spread throughout as his pushed his way in slowly.

The tears became a waterfall, "Seonghwa!"

"It's alright, I promise it'll be okay."

He waited until he could hear moans from you before he began to thrust into you, "Ah fuck!" Seonghwa pushed your legs to your chest as he arched his back to watch his fat cock disappear in and out of your hole.

His pace became faster, his rhythm much harder.

Your moans only encouraged him as he snapped his hips against the back of your thighs, "Fuck, you're squeezing me." He hissed.

"Seonghwa, something weird is happening!"

"That's it, baby, you're cumming, just for me. Cum around my angelic fat cock." He laughed, sticking his tongue out as his concentrated on his rhythm.

"And this, this is where you corrupt me, my dear." Seonghwa felt himself cumming, so he sped up, his cum splashing your walls.

He fell on top of you, but you noticed his once white wings were slowly turning black and disheveled, "Seonghwa, your wings.."

He chuckled in your ears, "You made me fall, looks like we're both going to hell."

[ceruleancattail]

Ok we all know the horror of being trapped in Malleus’s handcrafted world. Sure, it’s terrifying when you remember who you were, but what if you didn’t?

What if that was all you ever knew?

TW: Yandere

Your day starts with the birds singing, from the castle’s windows. The same old song, over and over again.

Oh, will they ever sing a different tune?

Opening your eyes slowly, you blink away the last remains of sleepiness from your body. Sliding out of your finely woven blankets of linen and cotton, your feet sink into the plush of an emerald green carpet.

Soft. Like most things in your room were.

A comfortable place, everything gentle to the touch. From pillows that feel like clouds under your head to clothes to the thick carpet lining every inch of your room, to the elegant clothes that adorn your form perfectly, everything was perfect. As if it was specially tailored for you.

After you cleansed yourself in the rather lavishly decorated bathroom, your hands fumbled around in your wardrobe. Closing around a set of clothes that were your favourite colours. They fit you like a glove, the material somehow both warm and breathable at the very same time. How odd… but then again, you didn’t think about it much. It just was how things were.

Nothing was ever too hot nor too cold. Nothing could ever hurt you here. It’s almost like a dream, honestly…

Slipping on your shoes, you threw open the door to your room. Only to smack it straight into someone’s face. You heard a thud, followed by a dull grunt. Muttering your apologies, you peek around the other side of the door sheepishly. Only to meet with the mesmerising emerald eyes of the master of this castle, Malleus Draconia.

Or as you like to call him, Hornton. A privilege granted to you by him himself, on the account of being old friends. Both of you had met, a long time ago. To be completely honest, you don’t remember a lot of the details. How did you two meet again?

Oh well. That doesn’t matter right now. You immediately rush out, hands cupping his face as gently as you could. Tilting his head from the left to the right, looking at him in concern. Apologises and worry fusing together in stammers and stutters.

Stunned, all Malleus could do was to stand stock still and stare. Before he broke into laughter, chuckling softly. He leans down a little, allowing you easier access to his face. As you’re fussing over him, Malleus’s eyes are flickering over your face. Observing every little detail, analysing you like a fine piece of art.

There’s something embarrassing about being looked at so closely, especially by someone as beautiful as he was. Your gaze drops to the ground as you release him from your prying hands. Yet at that very instant, Malleus’ hands fly towards your wrists, clutching at them.

His grip is tight, bruising even. He grips firmly, until your wrist is pressed sore. You feel him trembling ever so slightly, nails digging against your skin. Holding you so tightly, like a petulant child, determined not to let go of his favourite toy.

You glance upwards, only to see Malleus’s face frozen, his lips curled back into a fine line. Worry carves its mark onto his face, along with something a little more… darker. A steely glare, as a king would give his subjects.

The stern gaze a master would give to their puppet.

You attempt to yank your hand back, yelping as his grip only grows tighter. Through gritted teeth, you hiss out:

“You’re hurting me, Malleus.”

Those words seem to snap him back to his senses. He loosens up his grip on your hand, rubbing the bruises forming absentmindedly with his thumb. Yet Malleus doesn’t let go.

“I’m sorry, child of man. I worry for… you, sometimes. Especially with your memory hazy…”

Malleus pauses, deep in thought. Before those startlingly green eyes snap right back upwards, staring deep into your own.

“Have you remembered anything?”

You shrug the best you could, before sighing.

“If I did, I would have told you, wouldn’t I?”

Malleus spoke softly, muttering to himself more than anything:

“Yes. Yes you would have.”

A sigh floats off his lips then, a gentle sound. Perhaps it was meant to be a sympathetic sound, filled with Malleus’s pity for you… although you couldn’t help but detect a sense of relief within that sound. As if he was happy you didn’t remember anything.

How odd, but then again, this was Malleus. Would he really ever do anything to hurt you? Both of you go way back after all…. Actually, how did you two meet again? You vaguely remember him in a… school uniform. Green, like those beautiful eyes of his.

Frowning, you squint at Malleus, trying to picture him in a school uniform. It was a rather weird fit, for one as regal as he was. Yet it felt… familiar. Like something natural to you. Raising a hand, you cup his cheek tenderly, gently.

Before whispering to him softly:

“Hey, Malleus? Where did we meet again?”

He blinks at you, before you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist. Coaxing you closer towards his chest, wrapped up in his embrace. A loving gesture, reserved for those experiencing the tender pangs of romance.

“What are you even talking about, darling? We were always together.”

“Didn’t we meet at college, though?”

At those words , his grip turns to stone, keeping you firmly locked within his arms. What was once a tender, loving embrace becoming smothering, imprisoning, overbearing. You were locked in Malleus’s arms, with no escape.

Malleus sighs once more, looking at you as if… you disappointed him somehow. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see green sparks flare to life, forked tongues of flame hissing and spitting at everything they could reach.

“I think you haven’t had enough sleep yet, child of man. Perhaps a little nap would do you good.”

You grimace, before retorting:

“I’m good, Malleus, I just woke up. Don’t you remember?”

Yet that doesn’t stop Malleus from pressing a hand into your eyelids, coaxing them down gently. He coos at you, muttering sweet nothings into your ear until all the fight leaves your soul, and you start feeling awfully, terribly sleepy.

The last things you hear are Malleus’ soft chuckles, before the world turns to black.

“Rest well, my love.”

Your day starts with the birds singing, from the castle’s windows. The same old song, over and over again.

Oh, will they ever sing a different tune?

[arkhamknightz]

LACY

pairing: dick grayson x reader (blurb)

summary: his new “girlfriend” is too perfect to hate

warnings: no actual plot really, jealous!reader, platonic damian x reader, shitty writing, built around lacy by olivia rodrigo

notes: i wasnt sure whether i should write this for jason or not but it fit dick so well… anywho this is more kinda focused on lacy and less about dick himself, as its how the songs written so! also this is short sorry i just needed to post something

No matter how hard you tried, you simply couldn’t come up with a reason to hate her. Everything about her was angelic, it wasnt hard to see why Dick liked her so much.

You watched as Dick and Lacy walked into the charity gala that Bruce was hosting. She smiled brightly at you as your eyes met with hers, confidence radiating off of her as she walked over to you before greeting you and pulling you into a hug. You looked over her shoulder to see Dick walking towards the both of you, a grin plastered on his face.

“I didn’t think you were coming!” He smiled watching the both of you before wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her head as he looked at you. “Who’d you come with?” he tilts his head in question.

You laughed and shook your head. “Nobody, I actually came to keep Damian company, we both know how much he hates these things and I promised I would come the next time Bruce hosted so we could sneak out and grab some actual food.”

Dick smiled as you took a glance over your shoulder at Damian, who had a glare plastered on his face as he looked around the gala. You turned back to face them just in time to see Dick being dragged off by Lacy to one of the mini tables to grab some food, a bright shade of pink painted on both of their faces. Her perfume lingered in the air as they left you alone. They were staring at eachother, smiling and giggling as they spoke in whispers to each other.

You saw nothing but her the whole night. Everywhere you seemed to turn, her and Dick were huddled together quietly talking, her arm looped through his. It wasn’t long before you felt a small tap on your arm, Damian quietly spoke. “Are you just going to sit and stare at them the whole time? I would like to leave now.” You turned around to look at him and smiled before letting out a small laugh. “Alright buddy let’s go.”

You and Damian sat in your car, his hand tapping on the side of the passenger door. “Are you and Richard having… problems?” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Damian spoke up. “I mean, you spent the whole time staring. I’d assume theres an issue between the both of you.”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong with me and Dick.” His face scrunched up. “You’re lying.” You turned into the parking lot of a fast food place. “It’s… complicated. It’s just, I can’t dislike her Damian. She’s so incredibly nice and she always compliments me when she sees me and she always makes sure to text every other day just to check in!” He shook his head. “I don’t see why you need a reason to dislike her. I personally dislike whoever I want.”

You let out a laugh, Damian trying to surpress a smile as you doubled over in your seat. “Oh god, I wish that’s how it worked buddy I really do. But she doesn’t deserve that you know? I can’t just hate her because she’s with Dick. I mean come on shes absolutely perfect for him…” He let out a quiet hum. “Well, I’m sure I could get Timothy to dig something up about her.”

You lightly shoved his shoulder laughing. “As much as I appreciate the effort, it won’t change anything. Let’s just grab our food and our ice cream and head back to the manor alright?”

Dick and Lacy walked into the manor, you and Damian were sat in the main living room, Alfred the Cat laid on your leg. “Oh hey!” Lacy smiled at both you and Damian, the boy shooting her a glare. “Mind if we join you guys?” Dick spoke up, his jacket draped over her shoulders. “Yes actually, I do mind.” Damian spoke up before reaching down to pet the cat.

You looked over at them, a small shrug of your shoulders before looking back at Damian and pressing play on the TV. You looked back at Dick as you watched him walk down the hall, Lacy’s hand intertwined with his. A small pit formed in your stomach, oh how you wish that could’ve been you.

Damian quietly spoke up. “I don’t see why you like Richard of all people, because he’s definitely not the smartest.” You furrowed your brows. “What’s that mean?” He let out a small chuckle. “His shirt was inside out the whole night.”

[redr0sewrites]

ATSV Characters with a Goth S/o

heeeeeyyyyyy guys 😇 *slowly sliding the 100+ REQUESTS in my inbox to the side to make room for a new special interest*

🥀Cw: none, mostly fluff!!!

🥀Pairing(s): Hobie x reader, Miles x reader, Miguel x reader, Spot x reader

Hobie

he would LOVE any type of alternative partner tbh- he just LOOOVESSS that ur goth and will support you 100%

people who go against societies expectations/standards and don't fit in with the norm intrigue him, and your style is probably what piqued his interest in the first place

y'all definitely wear matching fits sorry i don't make the rules- hobie just can't pass up the opportunity to match w you!!! whenever you go to meetings within the spider society he always brings you along, regardless of whether or not you're a spiderperson and hobie loves showing off you and your style

MAJOR "THATS MY PARTNER‼️" VIBES

look me in the eyes and tell me hobia would not absolutely rock some funky eyeliner LIKEEEEE- he def lets you practice on him and will do your makeup for you too!!!

hobie loves thrifting with you, there is no way he isn't a major thrifter and you both definitely DIY a lot of your clothes

HE MAKES YOU GUYS MATCHING PUNK BATTLE VESTS FOR YOUR ANNIVERSARY, AND MAKES SURE THAT IT MATCHES UR AESTHETIC AS WELL!!

hobie absolutely has BLESSED music taste, but while he usually listens to rock, punk, dad rock, or post-punk type of music, i def see him enjoying more gothic/new wave music- especially if u introduce it to him!!!

i see him enjoying bauhaus, sisters or mercy, scary bitches, etc- he'll also give YOU a lot of music recommendations and help to expand ur taste!

hobie would also accompany you to any protests or conventions that you wanted to attend, and would act as your scary dog privileges

YOU TWO DEFINITELY GO TO CONCERTS TOGETHER OMG. I TOTALLY SEE THAT AS A SPONTANEOUS DATE THAT YOU TWO ENJOY A LOT

honestly hobie is a lovely partner to have if you are goth, and he's not only supportive but VERY enthusiastic about your fashion and lifestyle!

Miles

hes such a sweetheart!!! he definitely supports you if you're goth and asks a LOOOT of questions lmao

miles draws you and your fashion a lot, and will def design makeup or eyeliner ideas for you too!!! while ik this is more associated with punk, i also see miles drawing you a few custom patches and stuff like that

your kind of like his muse in a way, and miles just really enjoys sketching you, especially since you have such a unique aesthetic and such cool outfits

HE HAS DEFINITELY GRAFFITIED U SOMEWHERE‼️

he loves watching you get ready and do your makeup. seeing you do perfect eyeliner wings and heavy makeup in general lowkey relaxes him, and he just loves admiring you

im sorry but miles knows absolutely nothing about goth music or culture, ur gonna have to introduce him to a lot of the songs/bands!!!

while i don't think he's huge on the music at first, i think it would grow on him over time. its definitely the type of thing that he loves because YOU love it, and he sees how mu much you enjoy it so he starts listening to it as well so he can talk to you about it

i think his favorite band would be the cure, and his fav songs would either be boys dont cry or the walk (both by the cure- idk why thats so specific but they just kinda fit his vibe yk?)

miles likes holding hands a lot, and he loves when you wear rings or gloves or something along those lines because it just reminds him so much of you! your hands just feel different compared to other peoples and he just loves how unique you are

if you have a lot of piercings, miles would definitely ask about them or buy you specific jewelry for piercings!!!!

overall, very very cute and supportive about your style!!! (he lowkey gives bi wife energy, and iyk what in talking ab then ily mwah)

Miguel

he's pretty indifferent to your style at first, i don't see him as the type to judge much based on appearances. its your personality that really throws him for a loop, and a part of him admires your dedication to making yourself look how you want to look and truly living to be your best self, regardless of what others think

if you think miles knows nothing about being goth then be prepared for miguel bc he knows NOTHINGGGG- no music, no history, no political views, zero, zilch, nada, goose egg

if he cares about you i do see him being intrigued about your style, and once you two are officially dating is when he'll show more interest in your personal fashion sense

he strikes me as the type to like, NEVER listen to music, so he literally only listens to the music you like!!! he does find himself occasionally humming the tune of some strawberry switchblade song or casually listening to a siouxsie and the banshees song while he works, and over time you influence him a LOT with your music taste. he definitely associates any and all goth music with YOU, and that's probably why he starts enjoying it.

he's a "hand on you at all times" type of guy, and while he is rarely touchy with others, miguel is definitely keeping you close. your fashion makes that convenient for him, and he loves pulling you into a kiss by grabbing onto your belt loop or something of the sort

miguel loves how you look with and without makeup on and isn't afraid to tell you that, however, he really likes it if you incorporate his colors or color scheme into your makeup one day. he'll never admit it, but you keep catching him admiring you with the smallest smirk on his face every few seconds

if anyone ever gave u shit for what you wear and how you dress, especially someone in the spider society, you'd practically have to restrain miguel from drop kicking them across nueva york- he doesn't want anyone to be rude to you , and while he knows you can stand up for yourself, he just gets protective at times

Spot

goth? whats that???

he's lowkey such a nerd, and spends too much time being science-y and planning on how to beat spiderman to actually get caught up on fashion

spot doesn't know how he pulled you tbh, but he appreciates you nonetheless!!! he thinks you and your aesthetic are something to be admired, and will unabashedly tell EVERYONE he knows about you

he will shoplift any clothing or jewelry that you want, and he'll even take you to other dimensions where there are better alternative clothes as well

spot doesn't really have a face to do makeup on, but he'll offer to do yours for you! surprisingly enough he's pretty good at it, though he does work pretty slowly

spot loves fiddling with your accessories, whenever he's standing near you he's always reaching out to touch you in some way shape or form. he loves playing with any chains or necklaces you wear, and will help adjust them so that they lay correctly

he helps you get ready in the morning!!!!! if ur the type of goth to wear corsets, he makes lacing them up SO easy and will gladly do it for you

i personally hc that spot HATES seeing himself in mirrors/pictures, it reminds him sm of what he used to look like, but he LOVES taking photos of you and your style!! whenever you are wearing a cute outfit or have funky makeup on, spot adores just taking photos of you

if you ever did a makeup look inspired by him and his spots he would probably CRY :(

URGRHHRHHRRR I LOVE ATSV SMMMMMMM!!!! this post will DEFINITELY have a pt2 w more characters!!!!! i swear tho atsv literally pulled me out of the most horrendous burnout ever i FELT the artblock and writing block lift off of my body as i watched it. IM SO INVESTED I MADE A SPIDERSONA...

[ferrariseventeen]

18 + minors dni

recently had a dream about shy!bass player wonwoo and it’s driving me insane like he’s just some guy who decided to join his friends college band out of pity and now he’s touring the world?? although it would have been a few years since the band had gained traction he would still be the same shy normal guy he had always been,especially compared to his rowdy bandmates, the real rockstars of the group.

sure he loosened up and was trying his hardest to fit into the world he had been thrust into but he just couldn’t commit to the bit. he was more focused on the music,the behind the scenes stuff rather than the rockstar act,the crazy benders and the girls.

of course he liked the attention,it gave him an ego boost,how could it not? but it never got past that,he never hooked up with fans like the lead singer or dated models like the drummer, he just kept to himself. girls and guys threw themselves at him and as much as he found them attractive it was a fickle kind of attraction,no one ever really stuck in his mind for more than a few hours, in fact the only person who did was his college crush.

his band mates urged him to use his new found fame to sweep you off your feet,he was in one of the biggest bands in the world fuck you’d probably throw yourself at him too but he refused to reach out through sheer embarrassment. you’d always been a smart girl,you would see through his pathetic masquerade and see him for what he always had been,an incompetent dork. it’s not like you were ever mean to him,in fact it's like you acted as if he were invisible even though his crush on you was as clear as day.

he never resented you for it,you were too good for him, beautiful and smart and so put together. the most perfect girl he had ever laid eyes on. he had tried to shake the crush but even now it was your face he compared every girls too,searching for you in the crowds as his fingers pulled at his bass strings,thinking of you as those same fingers curled around his cock at night. he wasn't proud of it but he couldn’t help it,thinking about you in those intimate moments, it was just your lips were the most perfect he had ever seen and the thought of them wrapping around his cock always clouded his mind whenever he laid his head down on some hotel pillow.

god you were so pretty,if he closed his eyes tight enough he could almost feel how soft you were if you were under him. he would imagine your pretty eyes all wide and teary as he fucked you,saying his name over and over with your sing song voice,the voice that could send him over the edge all on its own. he’d spend so many hours alone thinking of you like this,in all positions as he came over and over till he passed out,exhausted with your name still hanging off his lips.

[rensukei]

↻ ...something so innocent

in which you make one right move, and you're suddenly all they want. ft. tsukishima kei & iwaizumi hajime

cw use of feminine clothing and pet names but never directly uses she/her prns, heavily suggestive. not proofread. wc: 1.2k

a/n ik this topic is vague but i LOVE the song i got the idea from. lay me down in my grave in 60 years and play this song. watch me come back to life from this mf beat. also apologies for the lack of paragraph indentation my computer just didn't like the idea of keeping those spaces ig

of all people to test, tsukishima was not one of them; especially on the night that the sendai volleyball team was hosting a formal.

you in your pretty little dress, seated right next to the refined blonde—short his glasses this evening, instead swapped out for contacts and an all black suit—, were so perfect, keeping a watchful eye on your posture and tone of voice while in the presence of such opulent volleyball figures.

you turn to meet your painstakingly handsome fiancé, cursing him for how good he looks clad in black. "how's the wine, kei?" you ask, well aware of the answer.

he sets his glass down, taking extra care to not clang it against the table. "i'm trying my hardest to not wince at the taste of it." he lowly says with the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. "i'm sure you aren't doing to well with it either though, princess. last time you had wine you were crying on the bathroom floor with my shirt because you thought you 'lost me.'"

"oh please, that was one time! i can handle a little red wine... and don't try to act like i don't notice you clenching the fabric of my dress with every sip you take, hypocrite." you reach ahead of you, grabbing a full glass of water. "have some."

"as if this will help," he takes a sip, "it feels like i've been served straight rubbing alcohol."

you giggle at his quip, "oop," you gently place your hand on the edge of the glass, "don't spill, kei." suddenly speaking just loud enough to where he could hear your faint whisper, you were too focused on the task at hand to realize the intimacy of your actions, "we don't need to be crying on the floor with my shirt now, do we?"

its by the grace of god that he didn't throw that very glass across the room and run out the door with you in his hand. something in the tone of your voice—or perhaps just the hushed, innocent nature of which it came across—made him flush a furious claret, similar to the repulsive beverage that may or may not have contributed to the slow heat rising to his cheeks.

after quickly recovering from the affect your words had on him, he sets the water down on the table as his hand slides underneath the tablecloth and onto your leg. his head dips down, lips dangerously close to your ear as his head is now hidden from the rest of the guests.

"oh, but we could be, princess," he softly mutters, "wouldn't that be fun? 'could put on a show for everyone—you'd like that now, wouldn't you angel?"

and just as quickly as it happened, it ended just as fast. his stature returned to his normal posture as if nothing happened; as if the most sinful words didn't fall past his lips. one thing stayed, though; his hand kept it's place on you underneath that table for the rest of the night.

iwaizumi had just gotten home after a long day at practice, walking into your shared home with a huff as he sets his bags down. moving into the kitchen following the faint smell of cooking, he finds you above the stove with shorts and a tank top on, tied together with a pretty little apron hugging your figure.

"ah, welcome home, haji!!" you drop the utensils from your hand and run up to welcome him with a tight embrace.

he receives your affection as a small grunt slips past his lips at the impact. "well hello, angel," he revels in the way you fit against him, then quickly remembers that he's a sweaty volleyball trainer who hasn't showered yet. "ah, hold on, let me go shower-"

"let me run it for you," slipping out from his arms, you flip the stove off and move the empty pan to the sink, "i haven't actually started cooking yet so it can wait."

moving across the kitchen to where you keep your aprons, your back faces the worn out iwaizumi as he watches your hands slip behind you to undo the bow that was so neatly tied. but, uh oh, it seems as though it's accidentally gotten all knotted up-

"oh gosh.. haji, can you come help me with this? i think- i think it's stuck.."

its a mystery as to why something so innocent could possibly effect him this way. ...helping you untie the knot on your apron? this does not prompt him bending you over the counter in any instance. ever.

he tries his damned hardest to swat the indecent thoughts bubbling up in his mind away as he makes his way over to your struggling frame. it was so hard not to just fold you over right then and there; your hands behind your back, your hair up and out of the way... it was all too perfect.

he couldn't help the way his hands instinctively slid beneath the rough fabric of the apron, feeling the supple top under his calloused fingers.

"you know, doll, i had such a long day," he says lowly as his hands find their way around your body, "would you mind... helping me out a little?"

the unexpected movement and actions of your lover catch you by surprise, a sudden warmth beginning to pool. "oh, baby- i haven't even started dinner y-"

"aw, but it's okay, pretty. i'm not too hungry, anyways," he turns you around to meet his gaze, a look you know all too well at this point in your relationship. your head lifts as you reach up and graze his lustful lips with yours in a feverish kiss as he undoes the problematic knot at the small of your back, an action he's a bit too familiar with as his skillful hands waste no time.

needless to say, dinner was neglected and the shower was (fortunately) postponed.

ps. i was going to do three-four charas but i got bored and impatient ;)

©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 :: tpwk!!