#writing drabbles for these two

[ryekiree]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue - V. E. Schwab Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Addie LaRue/Luc Characters: Luc (The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue), Addie LaRue Additional Tags: luc pov, Freeform, Pining, Angst, Spoilers Summary:

A devil never pines. A devil never aches.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Is That A Promise? (Venom One-Shot)

Eddie Brock x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.

CW: mentions of monster fucking, Eddie is oblivious and a dumbass (I think I have a type)

Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You’d known Eddie Brock a good while by this point. You’d started dating him a while back, and while he put others on edge, you’d found the way he talked to himself out loud rather charming, actually. 

At first, you weren’t sure if he was just unmedicated, or undiagnosed. But then the news broke about the symbiote, and then there was the footage. And when Eddie started coming home right after news broke of some other attack or taking out of a bad guy or criminal or whoever, you’d put two and two together. 

It was kind of hard not to. Particularly as his conversations with himself could vary from topic to topic in the span of six words or less.

 

Eddie had asked to meet up for lunch today at your favourite restaurant. He’d seemed a bit off on the phone, and given how prone you were to anxiety, your immediate thought had been that he was breaking up with you and that you’d done something to upset him or his bodily guest- who you did not officially know about, of course. 

You’d gotten there early to prepare yourself for whatever shitshow was about to follow and to your immense surprise, Eddie had shown up pretty much right after you. Eddie was always running late, so this change in pace was also mildly concerning. You were not sure how this was going to go and you did not like that one bit. 

“You’re here early, too,” Eddie had said, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact. You nodded, and cleared your throat, gesturing for him to sit down at the table opposite you. 

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we had a spot,” you replied, smoothing down your shirt. Bit of a nervous habit. That and ripping at your nails, but that was beside the point. 

“Right,” Eddie replied. 

And then the two of you lapsed into silence. You spent a good five to ten minutes appearing to read over the menu as if this wasn’t a regular spot for you and you didn’t know exactly what you were going to order. In fact, you’d be surprised if the cooks weren’t already making it up for you even though a waiter hadn’t come over yet. 

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed quietly. You peered over the menu to eye him curiously, one brow arced in question. 

“I didn’t say anything, Eddie.” 

“Yeah, I know. I- uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed, and put the menu down to give him your attention. 

“About me shutting up?” 

“No- God, this is not going at all like I planned.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 

You said nothing, waiting patiently for him to work out his wording.

 

“I really like you,” he started, and you nodded, replying with the same sentiment. “And, well, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”

 

“Right…” This is where you expected him to tell you he was married (doubtful but not impossible) or had cancer or something terrible. Dear God, please no. 

“Look- you’ve seen on the news, yes, the, uh- the attacks. Yeah?” 

You nod. Ah, so he was finally telling you about his friend living literally rent-free in his body. Okay, you could relax a little. 

“He’s me. Venom, he lives in my body. He’s in my head. Like, all the time. Right now.” 

Eddie looked at the table where he was picking at the tablecloth. You were silent for a second, and Eddie clearly took that to mean you were horrified or disgusted or something. You were a little nervous about it, sure, but you’d also been living with him for the last few months. If Venom was planning to take you out, he would have done so by now, surely. You figured this to mean you were safe enough. You’d also seen your fair share of monster porn, so you weren’t exactly unkeen on the idea of dating someone who sometimes had a monster body. It was kind of hot, actually. You shook the thought out of your head and tried to focus.

“Oh, yeah- I knew about that,” you replied, and the way Eddie’s head snapped towards you was almost comical. 

“You what?”

 

“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”

 

Eddie blinked, and a black residue appeared on the back of his hand. It swirled and gathered on his hand before reaching for you delicately. You met it, brushing your finger over it softly. The goop (for lack of a better word) seemed to shiver pleasurably and you smiled.

 

“Can I meet him later?” 

Eddie nodded, watching the interaction with disbelief. He’d thought that you’d go running and screaming through the doors or something, not be rubbing your fingers over Venom like you were fingering some Play-Doh. 

“Y-yeah, later,” he agreed. “Not here. When we get home.”

 

You grinned and the black substance retreated back into Eddie’s skin as a waiter appeared by your table. 

“What can I get for you? The regular?” 

You looked at Eddie and clicked your tongue thoughtfully. 

“The usual with a serving of chicken nuggets on the side, please.”

 

The waiter nodded, scribbled it own on his pad and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie looked at you in question. He knew you weren’t big on nuggets. 

“They’re for Venom,” you explained, propping your head up on your palm. Eddie looked to the side as if listening to something carefully. 

“Venom says thank you-” Eddie said before cutting himself as Venom said something else in his head. “No, I’m not saying that. No. No.” 

“Say what?”

Eddie sighed defeatedly- something you think he did a lot when it came to Venom. 

“Venom said he could kiss you right now.” Eddie looked mortified as the words left his mouth. You burst into laughter. 

“Is that a threat or a promise? I hope it’s a promise,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at the two of them. 

Eddie swallowed thickly and blushed as Venom said something else. You’d have to see if Venom could swap hosts sometime. It would be nice to have a conversation while out and about like that. 

“Promise,” Eddie replied. 

Good.

[suguann]

“Please,” you whimper, head falling back onto Gojo’s shoulder.

He chuckles, a breathy thing in your ear that sends goosebumps across your skin. “Begging already, pretty girl? Your little princess cunt is so needy,” he coos, kissing your cheek.

More tears leak down the apples of your cheeks with every thrust of his thick cock up into your pussy, the feeling of fullness an understatement to the way he splits you in two. And your thighs shake from how wide you’re being spread, only staying open by Gojo’s bruising grip beneath your knees.

“If you ask nicely for what you want, maybe he’ll give it to you,” your husband offers evenly.

You peer at Kento, sitting in an armchair in front of the bed, his fingers folded across his chest while he watches you get ruined with color high in his cheeks. The tent in his dark pants reveals how he’s enjoying this as much as you, if not more.

“I-I want—”

A harsh slap against your thigh cuts you off with a sharp squeak. “Pay attention to the one who’s fucking you, pretty girl.” 

Gojo gives a rough thrust, bottoming out again, his cock teasing a softer part deep inside you before you can say anything. Your eyes roll back, drool pooling and dripping out of the corner of your mouth until—

He stops.

“N-no, please,” you try a second time, desperate.

He rocks his hips lightly, making you whine. “Please, what, huh?” 

A little defiant, “make me cum." A sweeter please when he doesn't move right away.

With a low growl, the snapping of his hips against yours resumes echoing around the room, one of his hands letting go of your knees to seek out the little, achy bundle of nerves between your thighs.

All it takes is a few swipes of his fingers against your clit, and a clear liquid gushes from between your legs, soaking the bed until everything is wet and messy—incoherent, strangled whimpers fall from your lips as you shake and fall limp against Gojo’s chest.

“That’s a good girl,” you hear someone say, but your mind is too busy floating to guess who.

masterlist

[yabakuboi]

Robin has a love-hate relationship with Steve-and-Eddie. Love, because those are her best friends and her best friends are in love with each other and they never leave her out of anything. Hate, because sometimes she wishes they would because she keeps accidentally third-wheeling herself.

She doesn't hate it that much though, if she's honest. It's just fun to complain, especially because it riles the both of them up.

But right now, she's being quiet so she can witness one of her secretly-favorite Steve-and-Eddie rituals—of which there are many, but this one is silly and endearing.

It starts like this:

The waitress sets down their drinks, lemonade for Robin, coca-cola for Steve, and a cherry soda for Eddie.

"Don't you dare," Eddie says, even as Steve reaches for Eddie's drink, slipping his straw in next to Eddie's and slurping obnoxiously. Eddie doesn't even pretend to stop him anymore. "Unbelievable."

"I just want to taste it!"

"You could just get a whole glass of it! All for yourself!!"

"It's too sweet, I don't want a whole glass."

"What, so you think you can just help yourself to mine?"

Steve's grin is far too smug, even for Robin, even when Steve slides it to her so she can take a sip. Steve is right, it is really too sweet and she wrinkles her nose, but it's worth it for the offended gasp Eddie makes when she slides it back to him.

The diner is their favorite, because everyone who works there has given up on understanding their weird dynamic: Robin and Steve squished into on side of the booth while Eddie's spread out on the other, Robin making gagging noises whenever Steve brushes against her, even though they never sit in any other configuration. The staff has long since stopped asking which of them was her boyfriend, and that's perfect for her.

Besides, she knows that under the table, Steve and Eddie have their ankles locked together like the disgusting love-sick dorks that they are.

The Steve-and-Eddie show continues when their meals come out. Chicken fingers and fries for Steve because he's an actual child, and breakfast for dinner for Eddie because he likes to be contrary. And then the real performance begins.

They "fight" over the ketchup bottle, which really means that Eddie picks it up and Steve snatches it out of his hands—only for Steve to spread it over Eddie's scrambled eggs (gross) for him before he adds a disgusting amount to his own basket.

Eddie makes a game of stealing Steve's fries when he thinks he isn't looking (Steve is, he's tallying each one up in his head, Robin knows this because she's doing it too), and when he finally "catches" Eddie in the act, he steals Eddie's last piece of bacon—the one that's sat untouched for the last five minutes for this very reason.

Then, Eddie's "forcing" Steve to try his grits, like he does every time, and game eats a spoonful of it, every time, and then complains at length how much he hates it (and he actually does hate it, the texture is just not for him, Robin knows because it's the same for her too).

And then they do the worst, most disgusting thing ever: they split the pancake in half. Without fail. Without argument. Every time.

Robin, slurping on her strawberry milk shake that she will NEVER share with anyone ever, thinks that stupid pancake is like the symbol of their love or something. Sh's sure if they weren't in public, they'd be feeding it to each other.

"What?" They say it in unison, and Robin hates when they do that to her.

(Eddie complains about it right back at her, because she and Steve do the same thing to him all the time. They should blame Steve, since he's the common denominator, but he just looks so pleased about them both that they can't rag on him for it, so Eddie remains Robin's sworn enemy and vice versa.)

"What what?" she sneers at them, voice quiet. "You two are disgusting, it's like you're making out right in front of me right now."

"What are you, homophobic?" Eddie hisses back, just as quiet. "I'm in love with your best friend, Buckley. I'm making out with him in front of you for the rest of your life."

"Ugh! I hate you so much."

"Right back at you."

And then they start kicking at each other beneath the table, no doubt catching Steve's ankles in the crossfire. He doesn't tell them to stop though, and Robin can see that pleased, sappy smile on his stupid face out of the corner of her eye, so she lands an exceptionally harsh blow to Eddie's shin in retaliation for making her best friend so happy. He digs his heel into her toes in return.

[zephyrchama]

"Welcome back, it's been a while."

After a long time has passed, how might the Obey Me! demons welcome you home with a hug?

---

Lucifer tries to approach you in a calm and collected manner, but that facade easily crumbles as he gets closer. His pace quickens and his expression melts into an inscrutable blend of emotion. The man is fighting to stay composed.

He pulls you towards him, unwilling to wait a moment longer to have you in his arms. His gloved hands wrap around your back and waist with a secure grip. Your toes brush the ground as his hug lifts you to eye level, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Welcome back, I've missed you."

---

Mammon sprints up with the goofiest grin imaginable plastered on his face. He catches himself at the last moment though, grinding to a halt as a blush creeps over his ears. He wants to be cool. "You sure are a piece a work to keep The Great Mammon waiting."

His arrogant act is betrayed by the many glances in your direction. By the way he's clenching his fist so hard his knuckles are white, and by the way he immediately crumbles into your open arms the second you reach out. He throws his arms around your shoulders and digs his face into your neck. He grips the back of your top a little too hard, as if you might leave again any moment.

---

Leviathan sheds his insecurities and doubts, all negative emotions, just to be able to bask in your presence again. It's a moment he's looked forward to for weeks. He puts trust into the belief that you've also been looking forward to seeing him.

He wraps his arms and legs around you, unconsciously aiming to get as much skin contact as possible. "I've really missed you, you know!?" he half-shouts before burying his face in your shoulder. You fight to stay standing upright. Every little movement, every minor adjustment in posture you make causes Leviathan to snuggle closer until you can't tell where your limbs end and his begin.

---

Satan can't control all of the overwhelming emotions that hit him at once. He grabs hold of your hand, and with a palm on your back he pulls you close until your entire weight leans against him. At your touch, all he can do is smile.

"Glad to see you again." The two of you sway back and forth, turning your hug into a psuedo-Waltz. When you look into his eyes, Satan gives your hand a kiss and presses your intertwined fingers against his face.

---

Asmodeus laughs as he barrels into you. "Did you miss me? Of course you did!"

You stumble back several steps yet he catches you before you fall, latching onto your side like a matching puzzle piece. He rubs his cheek over your head, pausing every few seconds to give you a kiss as his free hand enthusiastically traces its way up your back.

Asmodeus is the most reluctant to let go. Making a mess of your hair and clothes only gives him a calculated opportunity to touch you more as he tidies up your appearance. His caress lingers over your collarbone and around your ear. His fingers brush against your mouth, which he then brings to his own lips.

---

Beelzebub falls to his knees, relieved to see you return safe and sound and glad to be by your side once more. His arms curl around your hips. He noses his face into your chest and looks up with a content smile as he greets you, "welcome back."

You lean over to return the hug, running your hands through his hair. You don't expect Beelzebub to stand, picking you up in the process. You steady yourself on his shoulders as he rises, his violet eyes not wavering from you for a second, tempting him to steal a kiss.

---

Belphegor wraps his arms around your shoulders and practically falls on you. He doesn't seem concerned that you're sinking to the ground. In fact, he's so preoccupied with cuddling up to you that there's no way to avoid sitting on the ground with this demon on top of you.

He curls his body around your legs. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he slowly exhales, "welcome back." He's awake, but nothing will stop him from pretending to be asleep as his grip strength loosens and his face trails down your body.

---

Diavolo laughs amicably as you approach. He wants you to come to him, and is so thrilled to have you back. He bends down to latch his arms under yours and swings you around, sweeping you off your feet as you twirl two, three times, then slow to a stop.

"How have you been?" In due time he wants to know everything, and hear all the stories of your time away in detail. For now, he's got you locked in a bear hug. You feel his lips brush over your hair as he lightly swings you back and forth.

---

Barbatos' hug is the most restrained. It's simple and polite. At first he was content to just greet you with a gentle handshake and loving gaze. Though, when you request a hug, there is no way he can say no.

He extends his arms around your back, gives you two soft pats, and hesitates for just a moment before letting you go.

At night that evening as you prepare for bed, you find a note in your pocket that Barbatos must have cunningly slipped in without anyone noticing. It's a detailed letter with everything he didn't get to tell you in person.

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.

*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.

What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?

You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.

I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.

Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?

June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.

Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.

And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.

I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.

I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?

My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.

What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.

I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.

I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.

I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.

It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...

"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.

My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"

I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.

"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.

You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.

Why is this oddly arousing?

With one final shove I landed onto my face.

There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.

No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.

Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.

Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.

[deancaskiss]

“you ruined my life,” dean hissed, kicking at the stone pillar he’d placed carefully into the ground just a day prior.

“you absolute asshole. do you hear me? you ruined my life, cas. and I hate you.” he kicked the stone again, ankle throbbing with the force of the collision, and it creaked backwards in the soil; threatening to topple over and break.

the movement was enough to break the anger, and dean sank to the ground, his fingers tracing over the letters in cas’ name that he’d spent weeks hand carving into the stone.

“you ruined my life. I’ll never find someone like you ever again. do you know that? do you not get it, cas?”

a sob broke free, and then another. words choked out through a thick veil of anguish. “I’ll never love anyone again. it was always you, cas. always will be.”

he let his fingers linger over the words under cas’ name. his final goodbye.

I love you, too.

[willowser]

bakugou watches the news while washing the dishes.

muted, because he wouldn't be able to hear the weatherman over the faucet, anyway, and his brow is furrowed in concentration — at both his hands and the forecast for next week. behind him on the stove the kettle warms and you eye it lazily, jumping back and forth from it to the way bakugou's muscles shift beneath his shirt as he scrubs.

sometimes it amazes you, the strength he's built within his body — the broad span of his shoulders as he rolls them, sleeves almost too tight for his biceps, and the rest of the material hangs loose on his body, swaying off his tiny waist as he swaps weight from one foot to the other — but you know it hasn't come easy; even now, from where you're sitting, the heavy, pink scarring on his cheek is visible when he tips his head down.

you stand quietly, shuffling across the tile of the kitchen until you're close enough to wrap your arms around him. bakugou says nothing as you press your cheek into his back, only peeking over his shoulder when you press a gentle kiss into his soft cotton tee.

"thank you for spoiling me," you murmur, nuzzling further into him when you receive only a grunt, one you feel more than hear. "the food was really good, sweetie-pea."

the silly name makes him snort and he shakes his head when you hum, amused. dinner has made you full and tired and you lean a little further into him than you maybe should, though if he minds at all, he doesn't show it. instead he just sighs, breath stuttering when you slip your hands under the loose material to gently run over his stomach. just like you, he's soft, a tummy full of food, but it's not long before his abdomen is contracting, muscles suddenly tight under your touch.

you laugh quietly into his shoulder, holding back the urge to bite him. "are you flexing, tough guy?"

"shuddup," he grumbles, shifting his weight once more. "...bein' fuckin' touchy."

at that you inch closer, now purposely much too in his space — and yet he still doesn't push you away. around his shoulder, you watch him run a soapless plate under the water for almost two minutes before his focus returns and he moves on, and then you do bite him, because you can't help it.

bakugou hisses and jerks away when your teeth sink into his bicep, flushed face made more obvious as he turns to glare down at you. before he can get a word in, you kiss him in the center of his chest, over the scars of his heart, and offer him a sweet smile.

"love you,"

his eyes dart away on instinct, embarrassed, but he's been working on his vulnerability; his lips twist once before he's pressing them into your hairline, leaning back against you in return as the kettle starts to squeal.

"drink your tea, woman," he grunts, nuzzling into you the tiniest bit before letting you free. "love you, too."

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes

Yandere!Aventurine who pampers and dotes on you like no other. All of your outfits ooze luxury, matching his color palette and aesthetic to a T. Whenever he takes you on extravagant shopping trips, he always returns home with at least five bags hanging off his arms, insisting on carrying them for you. If he makes reservations for dinner, best believe there will be the most showstopping, mouthwatering foods you have ever seen, smelled, or tasted. He'll take care of it all.

Yandere!Aventurine who likes taking you to casinos, even if you don't particularly care for gambling. He'll have you sit next to him as he plays poker, flashing you a mischievous smile as he goes all in. Of course, he wins.

Yandere!Aventurine who tells you his past in hushed conversations at night, memories merely whispered between trembling lips. His hands reach for yours, grasping them like if he lets go, he'll fall into a dark, unescapable abyss.

Yandere!Aventurine who needs you like a fish needs water or a bird needs to fly. He says nonchalantly with a casual smirk that you're his "good luck charm", but you are so much more than that to him. You soothe the scars in his heart and blanket his sleep in sweet dreams. All this superficial glamor and wealth he flaunts don't even hold a candle to your value.

Yandere!Aventurine who can't stand the idea of you leaving. He'll clutch you tightly at night and keep an eye on you in the day, making sure you're safe and protected. He'll buy you anything, give you whatever you ask for. The one thing he isn't willing to give you is your freedom. After all, he'll take care of it all.

[forlix]

"i did a thing." or, hyunjin needs an expert opinion about his newest piercing.

words・1.4k / pairing・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader / genres・fluff, established relationship / author's note・takes place in the same universe as places, places! and crying lightning but can be read on its own. @astraystayyh your children are back :’)

The parlor door jingles. Hyunjin emerges onto the chilled pavement with his phone pressed to his ear, and you pick up on the fourth ring.

“What is it? I’m busy.” The way your voice shrinks substantiates this claim, like you’ve darted to the other end of the room promptly after accepting his call. “And you’re on speaker.”

Hyunjin ducks into his car and sits back against the nylon with a grateful sigh. He finds himself constantly ill-prepared for Seoul’s Januarys. “Busy with who? Remind me.”

“You wanna say hi?” You ask the person in your company. Who is it? He hears them ask, to which you answer: Hyunjin. You say it softly, in the sense that you’re far away and speaking under your breath, but softly, in the sense that your tongue caresses every syllable of his name with that tacit fondness he’ll never tire of.

He notices the ditzy smile on his face only when he glances into his rear-view. He’s long given up on wiping it off.

A familiar voice drifts into your receiver. “Mr. Hwang!”

Ah, that’s right—you’re working on Aespa’s new music video for the next two weeks. Today must be the first day of filming.

“Hey, Ningning! How are you?”

“In a predicament, honestly. I have the biggest crush on my stylist, but so does this other guy…”

“Damn, sounds tough. Best of luck.”

“Oh, I won’t need luck. I said predicament, not competition.” 

His jaw hits his wheel. “Okay, we’re boxing. Let’s go. Earrings off.”

“Say less!"

You’ve withstood enough. “Alright, nobody is boxing anyone—do not touch your earrings, Ning, what’s wrong with you? God, Hyunjin!”

Now you say his name sternly, hopelessly, like he’s just knocked ten years off your lifespan. He almost likes this version more. He fell in love with you listening to it, after all.

“Did you call for any reason aside from threatening my clients?”

Oh, right. He did.

Hyunjin glances into the rear-view again, intentionally this time. He moves aside a lock of maroon hair to review the silver studs glinting off his right eyebrow.

He smirks.

“Am I allowed on set?”

Half an hour later, Hyunjin reaches the filming site and runs into a few staff members who are so surprised to see him they nearly forget to question what he’s doing there.

But they do their job, and he humors them, utters your name and the word “boyfriend” back to back. Then he watches their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines and basically prances into the dressing rooms.

He loves that everyone knows you. He loves that everyone knows that he loves you.

You were out of bed before he opened his eyes this morning, and he blooms at his first sight of you today, alone in the lounge, curled up on the couch and browsing through your phone. Eyeshadow stains your fingers and a pen sits behind the cuff of your ear. Your figure is framed in a (his) white cardigan with a red heart stitched over its left lapel. So professional, so pretty, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he uses his words instead.

“I did a thing,” he says, plopping onto the cushion next to you.

You look at him, shut off your phone. “I figured.”

“Promise me you won’t get mad.”

“No.”

It was worth a shot. “Can you blink, at least? You’re scaring me.”

In turn, you stretch open your eyes and hold them there. “A blink would be more than you deserve right now.”

Insufferable. He unleashes a bashful laugh and singular clap and looks back at you just in time to see a matching smile on your cordate lips. And to see you blink.

“Seriously, though, no more suspense,” you plead. “What on earth did you do? Should I be worried?” 

You tuck your hand around his bicep and tug lightly at his arm, and his insides pirouette at the gesture.

“No, no,” he answers, letting you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I was being dramatic. It’s nothing, really.”

You catch him as he’s trying to leave. A light finger hooks beneath his chin, an anchor to keep his face a mere few inches away from yours.

You look him in the right eye, then in the left, your expression stoic, scrutinizing. He doesn’t remember where he looks, in the meantime. He’s slipping and sliding out of his right mind, drinking in your long lashes and curved cheeks, wondering what heroic deed he performed in his last life to be able to study beauty in such proximity in this one.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” You query, tracing the tip of your pointer finger over Hyunjin’s cupid’s bow.

“No,” he exhales. “It’s not nothing.”

“Did you get it on your face?”

Of course you already know.

He nods, and the finger moves to his lower lip, gently indenting the glossy plush. 

“Hot or cold?” 

“Cold.”

The finger runs over the bridge of his nose, then the perimeter of its prominence, like the drag of a feather. 

“Warmer.”

You lift a brow, give the side of his face a small nudge, and say, turn. The word comes out in a very stylist-esque manner, and you and Hyunjin realize this at the same time, judging by the synchrony of your quiet chuckles.

“Force of habit,” you murmur, and move his hair out of the way and lean in to examine his ear. Nothing new there. He turns his face the other way before you have to ask. Nothing new there, either.

When he looks at you again, your gaze has locked onto his eyebrows. You cock your head slightly to one side as it dawns on you what he’s done.

“Warmer,” he offers anyways, his smile small, his pulse rapid.

With a flourish of movement, you push his purple locks all the way off his forehead. Hyunjin holds his breath. Your expression goes blank. 

But it’s not blank, not really. One just has to know where to look. (He does.)

Your eyes darken fast as if caught in a solar eclipse, your pupils doubling in size, your irises quivering slightly. Your mouth opens, then closes, then purses into a thin line as if suppressing something explosive. Your cheeks blush at their very outskirts, along the edges of your face and the slants of your cheekbones, like how the first rays of sunlight always skim the mountaintops first.

He hardly notices the finger you bring to brush over the studs, so carefully he doesn’t feel the contact.

He’s too busy basking in his victory.

Neither of you say anything for a long while. You lean back, then right, then left, your hand pinned to his hairline, your gaze superglued to his brow. He simply sits still, feeling like one of your French girls, simpering, simping.

“You really did it,” you finally say.

“I did,” he chirps. “Any notes?”

At the next part of your lips, your waiting smile overtakes them at long last. You duck your head to conceal it like he hasn’t already melted at its mere image. You deliver your answer to your knees.

“No?” He repeats incredulously, teasingly. “That’s a shame. I really could’ve used an expert opinion.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to tug at your sockets. His boyish grin wipes away your feigned irritation like warm cotton.

“Fine,” you grouse. “Look at me.”

He does. You look back.

“It's nice," you deadpan.

Your resolve wobbles.

"Complements your face…shape.”

The ‘p’ sound pops, and you lose your shit.

The sun fully risen now, you bury your burning face into your hands, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Meanwhile, the raucous cackle that leaves Hyunjin’s lips causes the intern hurrying past the lounge outside to jump so high he actually lets go of his coffee cups before snatching them back out of the air with a relieved groan. He doesn’t get paid enough. 

You think you’re getting paid too much. 

“I love it, Hyun,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough."

His heart beats so rapidly he thinks it might take off into a sprint; his laugh dwindles into a ditzy smile, one he’s long given up on wiping off.

“You know nothing about that word,” he replies, softly.

You bring your lips to his. His fingers wrap around the crook of your elbow. Yours begin curled in the silken hair at the back of his head. The pen behind your ear falls into the cracks of the couch.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh against his mouth, your own statement debunked by the inevitable drift of your touch back to the metal lodged in his face.

He doesn’t need to call you out. You do it yourself: “Ugh. I’ll be mad at you later.”

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© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[novulen]

being nanami’s beloved partner undoubtedly screams old love to me.

preparing meals in the swanky, spacious kitchen of his penthouse apartment, basking in the moment as soft jazz fills the space. lightheartedly clinking your half-full glasses of vintage wine before you both down the mauve liquid until there’s only about a less than a quarter left, and following after you’re overwhelmed in a drunken stupor, intoxicated by both the thickening infatuation growing between you two and the alcohol thrumming wildly through your veins.

the city twinkles with illumination, stunning as ever and the view like never before. it’s breathtaking—even outshining the stars in the night sky. while you’re occupied on taking in the scenery, you fail to notice the yearning gaze searing into the back of your neck.

soon enough, with your added consent and persistence, nanami effortlessly hoists you up onto the kitchen counter, fueled and determined to finish the night with an unforgettable orgasm.

“we’re not even halfway done with dinner yet, kento,” you tease, kissing the corner of his lips and feeling your heart swell when he reciprocates the action. it had never crossed your mind once—the idea that nanami kento could be all yours was simply too hard to believe. and yet even as you’re here, feeling his love resonate through you to the point you think it even grazes your soul, this feels all too good to be true.

“mhm, might as well have my dinner early then?” nanami quirks an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. your reaction doesn’t fail to amuse him, a cute little yelp stiffed by a quiet chuckle which he’d trade the world for simply to hear again.

you lean in close, tugging him down by the collar of his shirt, your lips ghosting over his. “you’re insatiable.”

“you’ve made me this way,” he mouths, sinking to his knees and parting your thighs, ever insistent on ending the day with a memorable climax.

this may or may not js be word vomit😊

divider by @/cafekitsune

[etoiile]

whipped ooc fluffy clingy grumpy sae. enjoy!

as much as sae hated to admit it, he couldn't sleep without you.

it felt so stupid. so childish. he was an independent man. he needed no one - especially not for something as trivial and mindless as sleeping. that was so dumb. lukewarm. half-baked! (am i using itoshi lang right)

but he just couldn't help it. when you were gone, he'd look longingly over to your side of the bed, wishing your warmth was filling it. he'd position your pillow vertically so that he could snuggle into your scent, but it wasn't nearly the same. he'd roll around, trying to find a comfortable position, but he couldn't stay in one for more than 5 minutes without getting antsy. he would constantly subconsciously reach out to grab you, only to realize that you were, in fact, much to his extreme dismay and disappointment, not there. he'd pout before rolling over with a sigh.

each night you were gone, sae would get an hour or two of sleep maximum, and none minimum. he'd begrudgingly roll out of bed once his alarm sounded, grumbling some nonsense about how the world sucked and was a terrible place and all the losers in it should just die as he shuffled to the bathroom to go brush his teeth.

he sucked at soccer practice. he missed a bunch of passes, he was screaming at all his teammates for taking a singular wrong step, and he looked like he was about to crash at any point. it got so bad that his coach pulled him out and made him sit out for the rest of practice, which, as you can imagine did absolute wonders for his already wonderful mood.

on the way home, sae decided that the world was simply a horrible place. everything around him was awful. those flowers were too purple. they were probably fake, just like all the people in the world. that dog is too loud. why is it barking so loud? it's not that deep. it was so dramatic, just like all the people in the world. the sky was too blue. how dare it be so bright and beautiful if the only not-awful person in the world wasn't here to see it? discrimination. the world sucked.

that night, as sae hopped back into bed for another night of no sleep, he imagined what it would be like if you were here with him. he reached to the lump of blanket on your side to pull it close to him, but was very surprised when the lump squealed and moved.

sae was speechless when you pulled the blanket off of you, giggling, "surprise!" as you explained how you got to come home from your work trip a day early. sae sat there frozen for a second before the initial shock wore off and he crashed into you immediately.

"and so- WOAH! sae?" you questioned, flat on your back with your nearly 6 foot boyfriend completely on top of you and smushing you into the bed.

sae was silent as he nuzzled his nose deep into the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent like it was some sort of addictive drug. "missed you," he mumbled into your neck, which made you giggle.

"yes, yes, i missed you too, my dear. now would you please get off of me? i can't breathe." you chuckled, rubbing his back soothingly.

he paused a moment to think before nestling deeper into you, if even possible. "no." he replied. "you've been gone too long. i wanna stay here."

you sighed, knowing there was no way to shove him off of you. "alright, my love." you smiled. "i love you lots."

he mumbled an "i love you too" before drifting off to sleep in your arms.

it was the best night's sleep he'd ever had.

not proofread. idk why he lowkey became nagi at the end.

𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

[daisyofwaterdeep]

*~nsfw~*

reader x Rolan

[reader has a vagina but no specified gender]

--------

☆touch-starved Rolan who pushes you against the closest wall to grind his needy cock against you

☆tender, romantic Rolan who cradles your face, eyes lidded and adoring, whispering "I love you"s with every slow thrust

☆pining Rolan alone in his office, jerking his hips into his hand as he masturbates, imagining you spreading yourself for him

☆sappy drunk Rolan holding you from behind, humming a sweet tune as the both of you sway, soft kisses brushed over the shell of your ear

☆tired Rolan who wants nothing more than to lay against your chest, the steady thrum of your heartbeat and your gentle hands in his hair easing him into a peaceful nap

☆overworked, frustrated Rolan fucking you mean and rough, his teeth grazing over your shoulder as he pants and growls

☆jealous, possessive Rolan who moans "mine" into your ear, his hips stuttering as he reaches his climax, "all mine, only mine--"

☆teasing, confident Rolan who smiles and shushes you sweetly as he gives small, punishing smacks to your pussy

☆overstimulated, weepy Rolan who continues to churn his softening cock inside of you, not wanting to let you go, babbling hiccupped words of love

☆Rolan, who wants you every way he can, who simply can't get enough of you, who needs you, who loves you

[crybaby-bkg]

Trainer Bakugou who you're a little terrified of the first day you're paired with him. when asking for a trainer at the gym, you had expected the friendly redhead who always looked so sweet and encouraging and cut as hell. you weren't expecting his grumpy looking blond counterpart, who was all glares and shouts for his clients to keep pushing themselves.

you were hesitant at first, before you quickly realized that it was all a ruse, for the most part. he pushed those who needed that extra encouragement, but was more lenient to people like you who simply wanted a professionals guidance. so, after a few weeks, you liked him for the most part, and his looks damn sure made it easier to cozy up to the big guy.

the only issue you've been having with Bakugou though are the...coregasms, as you've seen them been named on social media, that you keep experiencing. the first time, you weren't sure what it was, why your stomach and pelvis kept tightening up. you couldn't have...climaxed, or anything. you hadn't even been touched!

but, as the weeks go by, and the workouts get more strenuous, they've become harder and harder to subside and ignore, and so had Bakugou's commands to keep going when you suddenly stopped. you can only lie and say its cramps so many times before he realizes that something is up.

you're midway through a good morning, when that familiar feeling starts tightening in the pit of your gut. you clench your eyes shut, shaking your head a little, as if you could ward off the impending feeling. bakugou notices though, frowning at your almost pained expression in the mirror, walking up behind you to stop you as you pull yourself back up. his hands are on your waist, and as you come up, you feel his bulge glide over the curve of your ass, and something in you snaps.

you gasp, buckling over, one hand on your knee as the other reaches back for bakugou's hand to keep you up as your thighs shake. you can feel yourself spasming, clenching and unclenching around nothing, secretly wishing you had something that could fill you up, something that you felt throb against you as bakugou leaned over your form.

"Another coregasm, huh?" he asks you lowly, his lips brushing your ear as you bite your bottom lip to hold back your moan. your eyes buck open though, when his words sink in, head tipping back to look at him in the mirror, only to find his gaze already on you.

"You knew every time?" you ask quietly, panting now that its finally starting to pass over you. but bakugou doesn't let you up from this position, especially since the area you're in seems to be desolate for now.

"It's hard to ignore how pretty you look when you cum, sweetheart." Bakugou seals his words with a firm press to your ass, his cock rubbing the seam, and you can practically feel the heat and veins of it through your thin bottoms. you groan under your breath, getting lost in the feeling of him grinding against you, when he suddenly speaks again.

"You still feel it?" he asks, voice low as he looks at you through his lashes. you nod, biting at your bottom lip as you meet the steady rock of his hips, watching how he smiles before slotting his lips against your ear.

"Want me to help make it go away?" and he does, in the employee locker room after hours. he makes it go away, and rebuild, and go away again and again until you're hoarse and your legs are weaker than they typically are on leg day. bakugou helps the ache go away, but not for that sweet redheaded coworker of his, whose fists have fucked his cock the entire time of watching bakugou rail you over the locker room bench again and again.

[allurilove]

Yandere x Zombie you

Rated 18 + — mature short content!

Includes: He tries to sew his dick back on, stalking, begging, mentions of dead bodies and blood, cannibalism?, gender neutral reader, unrequited love.

*This is the second part to the first one! Check the first one when you can! And here is the third part! He is referred to as “your stalker” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: You thought that by eating him he would leave you alone. However, he just comes back to life- continuing to follow and bother you.

You never saw yourself becoming a zombie “mentor” especially to your stalker, but he’s so defenseless and dumb, it’s hard not to step in.

You try to keep him in line, making sure he doesn’t make any romantic advancements towards you, but he doesn’t listen.

He screamed in agony as you munched on his body, his heart beats becoming faint, and he finally let out his last breath. You pulled back, and admired your work. There is a huge chunk of his torso missing, and there are little bites everywhere. You lick your lips, his sweet blood tasted nice, and he was one of the better meals you’ve had.

That was months ago. You moved on, and you were looking for your next victim. It seemed like the humans were getting smarter, they knew to avoid certain areas as they became zombie hotspots. You shuffle through the forest, moving your head back and forth to detect any movement.

Your eyes zero in at the man that stands by the lake, he’s so still and he’s barely moving. His face is flat, eyes are bloodshot, and he lets out a groan. Your eyes trail down lower, and you realized he didn’t wear any pants.

Gross.

Your stalker jerked awake, his eyes widening and he put his hand on his chest. He felt his still heart. He pats himself down, his hand grazing his smooth hip. Shit. His cock. He slowly looked at the dick that was tossed to the side, it was limp and oddly colored. He almost missed it.

He pouted as he crawled to his dismembered body part, and he took it into his hand. He had an idea. It took him awhile to find his footing, and he kept tilting to one side. His body couldn’t really support himself after you did a number on him. He pushed himself to try to remember the area he was in, most of the buildings had turned to dust, and it was unrecognizable with all the blood and dead bodies.

He sighed as he had to shove his way through the door, a dead body right in front of the entrance and when he finally got in, the body got smushed against the wall. He gagged as the body “popped.” He stumbled his way into the store, and he looked around for a needle and thread.

The place he was in used to be a “Joanne’s” and he sometimes came here for yarn and fabric, he went to the familiar aisle, and started to look for what he needed.

He rummaged through the basket filled with left over thread, he decided on a color, and he hoped that pink would help his… misfortunate situation… prettier. He had his shirt in his mouth so he could get a good look at his hips, he shimmed off his pants, and he aligned his dick to where it would usually be.

He let out a surprised yelp when he pierced the needle into his skin, he continued to sew his cock back on, and eventually it was done. He let out a sigh of relief, letting his saliva coated shirt out of his mouth. He tossed the needle to the side, and he examined himself in the reflection of the window.

He thinks he looked good. Probably better than all the other male zombies out there. And now, all he had to do was to find you. Maybe you would date him now that you two were the same species. He walked around for months, trying to find you, taking breaks to eat, and damn was it hard to convince someone to let you eat them. He would gesture wildly, pointing at the scared human and then at his mouth- he started to make chewing noises. The human screamed and shoved him out of the way.

How rude!

He groaned as he had to pick himself back up, which always took him awhile. He sighed as his stomach rumbled and he began his hunt for another poor soul.

And then he saw you. It was like his heart could start pumping again, and his cheeks turned pink. He was almost in shock that he was able to find you like this, and he couldn’t believe his luck. You finally stared back at him, your eyes were on him and he was elated. His feet started to walk, and he sped towards to you- almost breaking into a sprint. He opened his arms to engulf you into a hug, you were about to get tackled, but you swiftly moved out of the way.

He landed onto the ground with an oomph!

He whined as he had no more energy to pick himself up. Your ears perked up as you heard his stomach growl, and… was he crying?

You bend down and you roll him onto his back. His eyes drift towards yours, so lifeless and glazed over, he pouted and he reached for you again. You slapped his hand down. You took pity on the man, and you made sure not to make any eye contact with his nude lower half. You helped him get up, forcing him to lean against a tree, and you hand him a piece of meat you’ve been saving up for emergencies.

You couldn’t help but gag at the sight of his dick flopping about. Does he have no shame?? And when you two came across a human who was near close to death, you heartlessly just walked right over, and yanked his pants off. Your stalker puts the pants on as he watched you devour the person.

The pants were quite snug, and he winced as the crotch area was very uncomfortable for him. He slowly sank down to his knees, and he cautiously opened his mouth.

You slowly look up at him, expecting him to start eating on the human, but he just waits. You let out an angry groan and you take a good meaty chunk off the man’s thigh, you spit it out onto your hand, and you gave it to your stalker. Which he gladly takes. He didn’t care that it was covered in your saliva, and he swallowed it whole.

Your stalker waddled as he followed you, his legs looking like they were about to burst through his pants. However, it did make him walk a couple of feet behind you. He couldn’t speed up and press himself right against you, his breath hot on your neck, and his hands wouldn’t be able to wander on your body. So that was a bonus.

You lied to him that zombies slept. He was a… fledgling of sorts, and he didn’t really know the “rules.”You just wished that he would leave you alone. You would lay down onto the grass, and he slides himself right next to you. He fluttered his eyelashes and he subtly tried to wrap his arms around you. You gesture that zombies did not hug, and he said that you two could start a new phenomenon.

You tied him up that night. He stood straight as an arrow, the tree and ropes holding him firm. You tossed around, trying to get your body to sleep. Sensing your restlessness, he let out a sound that he only knows how— a whine. It’s the sort of whine that dogs use to get the attention of their owner.

You ignore him of course, however, it led him to start whining even more. He tried to writhe out of the ropes, grimacing as the rope grinds onto his skin. He starts to move around like a fish out of water, and he pouts heavily. You let out a frustrated growl, your hands gripping at the grass before you rip it out of the ground, and throw it at the male zombie. He coughed, his mouth sputtering as he tried to spit it out.

It was the middle of the night when your body finally relaxed, but your ears picked up on some gnawing noises, and you slowly opened your eyes. Foamy drool and saliva dripped out of his mouth, his teeth firmly latched onto the rope as he tried to cut himself out. You roll your eyes and you rest on your elbows, watching the man cut through the final thin string that kept him apart from you. When he bursted out of his binds, he approached you again. He got onto his knees, his hands clasping together, and he pleaded.

He wanted to feel your body against his, for you to wrap your arms around his waist, and for him to be able to nuzzle his face into your neck. He wanted you to touch him- not because you had to eat him- but because you loved him. What does a man have to do for you to pay attention to him? He already tried to cut off his dick for you, but you didn’t want it. He fed you, kept you safe, and stalked you around to make sure you were doing okay. He even tried to trap you for your protection.

Your stalker was just worried about your wellbeing. He started to bow his head, his forehead resting on the ground as tears swelled up in his eyes. He started to sniffle, his hands still together in prayer that you would let him be with you. That you would let him be yours. If he could form a coherent sentence he would beg. He would use his words to sway you (that never worked) and he would say the sweetest, and the kindest and truest words known to mankind.

You are magnificent in his eyes. You are so captivating, and sultry in your own way. He has never met someone like you, and he wasn’t planning on letting you go. You are a rare find, a person that only comes every thousandth year.

So, why not him?

Why didn’t you want to be with him?

He slowly looked up, holding back his tears, and he saw that you were…. gone.

Allure: tysm for 560+ followers! This fic is pretty unedited, and I’ll fix the mistakes later!

[deancaskiss]

dean thinks cas likes him… he’s pretty sure… he thinks so anyway…. but he wasn’t going to be the one to make a move on a freakin’ angel. he’d let cas make the first move if that was something cas wanted. but days turned into weeks and months and then years with no attempts from cas to pursue dean. so dean buried his feelings. it was probably just his own unrequited desires reflecting back at him. he could live with pining and yearning.

it wasn’t until late one night, the two of them researching in the bunker library together with glasses of scotch next to each of their hands, that cas said something.

cas looked up at dean, darted his gaze down to the tomb in front of him, and looked back up at dean again. the flickering movement made dean glance up, and he locked eyes with cas; raising an eyebrow to silently ask cas what was up.

“we should get married,” cas said.

dean grinned.

yes. cas definitely liked him.