#ya know just to make it a special day something different than all the other days

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy x fem.reader

Yandere! Cowboy who’s the towns sweetheart. How can he not be? He helps every troubled soul he comes across, doesn’t matter who they are. He works hard every day to easy the load of providing for the family, he’s not a child anymore, of course he’ll do anything he can to help out! Besides, who wouldn’t fall for those muscles and pearly smile? You’d be crazy if you didn’t.

Yandere! Cowboy who you meet the first day of your ‘vacation’ to stay at your grandparents. Your parents though you’d been acting up the last weeks so they decided it was best to send you away for the summer, much to your dismay. Now you’d have to text your friends that you can’t hang out at all. Damn it. Being forced to stay in a in-the-middle-of-nowhere town definitely wasn’t your top priority. There was practically no service and nothing to do all summer. You’ll be bored out of your mind unless you manage to find something to entertain you. Luckily, there does appear to be something worthy of your attention- or rather, someone. It’ll certainly make things more interesting.

Yandere! Cowboy who you think is kinda cute, if not a little weird. He’s no doubt very different compared to the boys in the city- speaking in that special accent, wearing worn overalls, sweat at his forehead everytime you meet and practical thinking above all else. Still, you find yourself intrigued by his contrasting personality.

Yandere! Cowboy who is enchanted by you. You’re just so….wonderful. Funny enough, he also thinks you’re different, which interests him. Normally, he isn’t the type to brag and is quite humble, but he isn’t blind. He can see the way the girls in town drool over him. He knows he’s attractive. But you, you don’t fall over your feet whenever you gets a glimpse of him. You don’t stutter over every word while talking to him- in fact, you’re as cool as a cucumber. It almost seems like you’re flirting with him.

Yandere! Cowboy who notices you way your eyes sparkle when you speak of your interests. He starts thinking about the way you sound when laugh, how you pout when you’re frustrated and what you look like when you’re sad. It’s all beautiful. You are beautiful. Soon, it’s not only that he focuses on. Now, every time you’re walking ahead of him, he pays attention to the curve of your ass, how your hips sway when you walk, and suddenly he finds himself having to adjust his pants.

Yandere! Cowboy who you enter a special relationship with. You’re more than friends but less than actual lovers- that’s how you see it at least and you believed that’s what yan! Cowboy wanted, too. You two spend all your free time together in each others arms and going on cute dates around town and in the forest.

Yandere! Cowboy who wishes to marry you. You’re his perfect match! It must be fate that you ended up in their little town. He’d give you a big beautiful ring- he’s saved up quite a bit during his years of working, so he can easily afford it- and let you have whatever wedding you imagine. He’d make sure it’s exactly how you want it. Then, he’ll personally build you a house. Of course, before he starts working on that, he’ll need to know if you want a porch, what kind of shutter you want and what colour should the exterior be, would you like a fireplace?

Yandere! Cowboy who can’t believe it; you’re leaving? You say that summer is over and you don’t have to stay there with your grandparents anymore. You almost seem…relieved. No, that can’t be it. You love him! Right? Or was the connection he felt just one-sided?

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to catch feelings for me or anything. I just wanted to have fun, pass the time y’know.

“So I didn’t meant anything to you? Not even a little bit?…”

“I do like you. But I live in the city and my stay here was never going to be permanent. Like I said, I’m sorry it got a little too serious.”

“…….”

“Yeah, I gotta go now. I wish you well though, see ya.”

Yandere! Cowboy who spiraled after you left. You’ve dug yourself too deep in him. He can’t imagine going on about his life like you never existed. He thought you could be happy there, even if wasn’t like the big city you were used too, but that was clearly not the case.

If he had to uproot his life and move to be with you, then so be it. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him again.

[solarsturniolo]

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 // 𝔖𝔎𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯!ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰

©Solarsturniolo 2024

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who only bought kneepads and a helmet after you showed concern for him after a bad tumble. Because, even though he doesn’t care much about his safety, he knows that you do. He’d rather get hit by a car than putting you through the stress again; seeing the way your hands shook as you cleaned up his cuts and the way your eyes watered as you refused to look at him. He decided some safety gear was a good investment.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who holds your hands to keep you steady while you practice on his board. “Easy, you’re thinkin’ too much about it, just imagine your feet are goin’ right through the board into the ground…there ya go-“

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who doesn’t like to sleep alone, so he’ll facetime you or invite you to come ‘hang out’ which will inevitably end in a sleep over. “No I know you slept over last night, and the night before that, and the night before that, but just hear me out-“

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who shares his food with you no matter where you go. He’ll give you shit for it, but you both know he doesn’t care. It almost feels intimate to him, sharing something of his with you and only with you. His brothers will tease him for it later, but all that matters to him is seeing the way your face lights up as he pushes his plate towards you.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who claims your music taste is lame, but will make a playlist of his favorites that you’ll play and listen to it on his late night rides.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who has carved your initials into the underside of his board. He covers it with a sticker, knowing if his brothers found it he’d be cooked. But he hopes that one day he won’t have to hide it anymore.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who is consistently trying to impress you. Whether it’s with a new trick he learned, a photo his brothers took of him, or whatever it ended up being. He feels like he doesn’t have much to offer, so he tries to impress you by being cool.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who can’t sleep on the nights when you’re not available, his thoughts eating away at him as he lies awake in bed. Tossing and turning, groaning as he looks at the alarm clock to see that only ten minutes have passed since the last time he checked. He hates it, he wants you there with him. He felt so empty and alone without you there.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who never forgets a special occasion, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem to others. From birthdays, to holidays, to National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day, Chris remembers every day that is important to you.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who can tease you and mess with you, but would knock anyone else out if they tried doing the same.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who talks about you to his mother so much, she is convinced you’re both married with three children. A boy doesn’t just randomly swoon over a girl for hours to his mother on the phone. “She told me the funniest story the other night when she stayed over-“ “She stayed over again? What is that, four times this week?” “…..anyways, she-“

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who has a raccoon brain and will see something shiny or cute and just has to bring it to you. “A…spoon?” “A tiny spoon! And it has a little pink bow on the end, see!”

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who loves coming over to your house. He swears on his life it’s just because of the atmosphere, but you know it’s because of your pets. He never forgets to greet them upon arrival, and always says (a very lengthy) farewell before he leaves.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who spends six long torturous hours trying to write you a cute note or a poem. His trashcan piled high with drafts that he crumpled and tossed away, because he wanted it to be perfect. You deserved perfect.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who complains when you beg him to let you do his makeup, but secretly loves having you so close to him. The comfortable silence, the brief eye contact, the way you gently dab and brush the different products onto his face. The tightening feeling in his stomach as you lean closer, making sure to be extra gentle around his eyes. He would never admit it in a million years, but part of him wants to ask you to do his makeup every time you come over.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who sends you a fit check every. single. day.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who sends you pictures of the animal friends he makes on the nights he goes out skating with his friends.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who cusses often, except when you invite him over to your place. He tends to watch his language when he’s over, not wanting to ‘influence the children’, in reference to your pets.

Reblog divider by @adornedwithlight

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[rizzanon]

childhood friend! Shinichiro Sano

part 1 | part 2 (here)

childhood friend! Shinichiro who matures quite significantly by the end of highschool, no longer asking out girls at school anymore much to your surprise

"Woah, look at you."

"Hm??"

"It's been months since you last asked out some random girl. What happened to the women obsessed Shinichiro I know?"

"Shut up, it was just a phase. Besides, you made me open my eyes in a way."

"How so?"

"I guess... I'm just waiting to ask the right person out now."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who invites you to witness the disbandment of the first generation of Black Dragons, despite you not being associated with his gang at all

"Why do you even want me to go? The people I know are only just going to be Takeomi, Waka and Benkei."

"Because I want you to be there. Is there any better reason other than that?"

"I suppose not..."

"And maybe it's also the fact that I need someone to watch over Manjiro haha..."

"I knew it."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets upset frustrated when you chose to ride with Takeomi instead of him on the day of the final gathering (he couldn't complain about it to you though, you made a fair point)

"Hey come on! Why are you going to ride with him? Takeomi's a worse rider than me y'know."

T- "Fuck off Shin. You don't worry about me stealing your girl from ya'."

"But you are a reckless rider-"

"Come on Shin, you can't expect me, you and Manjiro to be able to sit in one bike, can you? One of us is surely gonna fall off. I'll be fine with Take-chan, okay?"

"Fine..." (He was not fine with it)

childhood friend! Shinichiro who you make fun of when he comes over to you after the disbandment of the first generation of Black Dragons bawling his eyes out (you were prepared for this outcome)

"Glad to know you're still the same crybaby Shin I know."

M- "Haha! I'm gonna tell Emma you're such a crybaby."

"Cut it out you two! This—sniffs—is a special moment...!"

"You're lucky I brought tissues to wipe your tears away."

"I can't believe you know me that well."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets used to you coming over to the Sano household unnanounced whenever you pleased, not that anyone minded, since they all loved your presence

"Emma, be a dear and wake up Shin? Smack him if you have to."

E- "Okay!!"

"Woah, woah, there's no need to smack any—yawn—one. And why are you here?"

"Emma wanted me to teach her a new recipe to make for breakfast. So here I am!"

"And you decided to come over this early??"

"It's 7am Shin. Besides, don't act like you don't like seeing my pretty face the first thing in the morning~"

"Shut up." (Spoiler, he does)

childhood friend! Shinichiro whom you never grow apart from even after highschool, and you both started going on different paths, him opening up a motor bike shop while you started going to college and applied for a part time job as a cashier near the vicinity

"Wait, the shop you're working at is the one down the street, right? Just a few blocks away from my shop?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Great, looks like I can go say hi to you whenever I want."

"Don't you dare do something stupid to get me fired, Shin."

"No promises, ma'am."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who after miserably failing 5 times asks you for your help to bake a cake for Emma's birthday

"And what is this supposed to be?"

"Clearly, it's supposed to be Ariel, y'know, the princess mermaid??"

"That's your best attempt at making an ariel themed cake?? Now I know why you were begging for me to come over when you called me."

"I blame it on Manjiro for ruining the frosting."

M- "Hey! It was you who ruined it."

"So not true."

"I think the both of you should just shut up and help clean up this mess first."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who's gotten used to his siblings asking him where you were whenever you weren't seen with him and getting teased about it

E- "Neh, Shin-nii, where's [name]?"

"Probably stuck in another class, why do you ask?"

E- "I miss her."

M- "Idiot, we already saw her this morning."

E- "Hey! Don't act like you don't want her to come and play with us too!"

"Seriously you two, sometimes I wonder if I'm your older sibling at this point, with how much you ask for her."

M- "Shinchiro, we all know you love her as much as we do, maybe even more~"

"Shut your mouth Manjiro 💢"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who always shows up to your workplace when your shift is almost going to be over, always claiming that he was hungry and wanted to buy something, when in reality, he's there to send you home

"So..."

"And what the hell could you possibly want from this humble store, Shin?"

"Woah, woah! Can't a customer walk around the store to see what they want to get?"

"The last time you were here you knocked down a stack of cans on display, the manager almost reduced my paycheck because of that."

"In my defence, I didn't see the stack of cans."

"Suree you didn't."

"Hey, come on now! You know I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize your job.. on purpose at least...."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Now, would you be so kind to get me a pack of cigarettes, y'know, for a very dear friend of yours?"

"The only think you'll be getting from me is a pack of gum, rotten breath."

"Rude... now come on, when does this shift of yours end anyways? Let's get dinner on the way back."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who becomes your gossip and vent buddy whenever he sends you home after your shift, with him hanging onto every word you say, and hating on whoever you hate even if he doesn't know who the hell they are

"Argh, goddamnit, won't she just give me a break already?"

"Who? Wait—no, let me guess. Is it that girl from your econs class? What's her name again? Ka—Ka something..."

"Kazumi. Wow, didn't think you'd actually remember, well somewhat remember at least."

"With how much you complain about her, who wouldn't? But let me guess what she did to aggravate you this time."

"Go on. No guarantee that there'll be a prize for that though."

"She ditched a group project discussion again? Or she claims she's too busy to complete her part of the project when in reality she's going on parties and all that?"

"Mix of both actually, so congrats! No prize for you though."

"Aww. And here I thought you'll reward me for being a good friend."

"Argh, I should ask Takeomi or Benkei to intimidate her into actually taking this group project seriously or something..."

"Why ask them when you have your number one ride or die partner next to you to do so?"

"What'll you do? Intimidate her with the 20 rejections you've gotten? Pfft, she might even make that 20 become 21 before you intimidate her."

"I thought we swore to never talk about that ever again 💢"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who's grateful to you for bringing him his lunch to his shop whenever he leaves it at home and enjoys groans whenever you nag to him about the importance of not skipping any meals

"Guess some things will never change, huh?"

"Huh? Oh, is that my lunch?"

"No, no, it's my supper."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny [name]."

"I deserve more credit for making sure you don't skip your meals."

"Is that so? Would you like me to get on my knees and thank you? I can certainly do that."

"You and your cheesy lines... when will you learn to remember to bring your own lunch to work? You're pulling off the same shit you did back when we were in highschool."

"Maybe I just like your meals better than mine..."

"...??!... That... That still isn't an excuse for you to not bring along something to eat, dumbass. What would you do if I decide not to check in on you, hm?"

"Probably starve to dea-"

-smacks his head-

"Oww??? Alright, alright, sorry I guess, 'mom'. I won't purposely skip my meals ever again..."

"Good... next time, just... ask if you want me to cook extra for you."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who notes how you start to stand one arm's length away from him whenever you're with him, and when he asks you about it, becomes visibly distraught to hear you say he reeks of cigarette smoke

"Hey... why're you standing so far away from me? Don't tell me you came over to my shop just to see me work from a distance now.."

"You just stink, that's all."

"What??!? I definitely don't stink. I took a shower this morning, and I'm not covered in grease or anything..!!"

"It's that smokey smell that's always lingering around you. Y'know, because you like to smoke every now and then.."

"Huhh?!? What're you saying!!"

"Don't tell me you don't reek of cigarettes Shin. It's blatantly obvious, I can probably even smell you from a mile away like this."

"WHAT?!? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS EARLIER???"

"Because I didn't want you to make you self-conscious, stupid! Besides, it's not like I can force you to stop smoking or anything.."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who slowly stops smoking as much as he used to, especially around you so that you wouldn't be disturbed by his smell and stay close to him

"Huh?"

"What is it?"

"Eh... it's nothing important."

"Oh come on, you clearly have something to say. Cat got your tongue or something? Taken aback by my good looks?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say. You just... smell different, that's all."

"Is smell all you care about? What are you, a dog?"

"Fuck you."

"Yes please."

"Wha-?!?!"

"I'm joking." (He wasn't really)

"And I probably smell good because I put on this new cologne I got."

"Pfft, to mask off the fact that you're a smoke addict?"

"Hey! Might I inform you that I haven't picked up a cigarette for the past two weeks now."

"Really? Wow, I'm surprised. What made you stop?"

"You. Well, more precisely, you avoiding to get close to me because I stink."

"...?!?" (You were speechless and flustered)

childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets jealous upset when his friends flirt with you right in front of his face, not knowing that they're doing this to get him riled up enough and grow balls to finally confess to you

T: "Say, [name], you got a boyfriend or anything?"

"..?!?! Wha- Why're you asking her that-"

T: "What? Can't a man be curious? Besides, no boyfriend would be pleased if their girlfriend is hanging out with her 'guy' friend and his siblings 24/7."

"Very funny Take-chan. If that's your logic, then I believe you already have your answer."

B: "That's suprising. I was sure a pretty girl like you would have many guys chasing for you."

"...! I'm flattered, Keizo-kun. But I doubt that's the case, haha."

"Oi, you guys, stop bugging her like this..."

T: "Ya'know, I'm pretty sure most girls like strong guys, right? Shin's pretty weak to stay by your side."

"Oi-"

T: "But, he makes it up with his charm and caring side, so I guess you have it good [name]."

W: "Well, that's Shin-chan for ya, so you don't have to worry about him not treating you right, [name]. But if he doesn't, you cant count on us to beat him up for you."

"I.... wow, okay...?"

"?!? Oi, you guys!!? Now you're scaring me!!"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who confronts you one day, telling you all about how his friends and family keep on teasing him about how you and him should date and how he also really liked the idea of that

"Hahaha! Really? Manjiro did that?? I can't believe I missed that!"

"It's painful y'know! Can't believe he's only 12 years old and pulling off roundhouse kicks like that. And to my face too!"

"Well, what'd you do this time?"

"Wha-?!? I can't believe you're so quick to take his side. Both you and Emma."

"What can I say? Both him and Emma are my favourite Sanos after all."

"Gasp After all these years, you're choosing them over me?!? I'm disappointed, [name]. I thought you knew better 😔"

"Cry about it then."

"Mean..."

"But he must have a reason for doing that to you though, right?"

"I mean... it's kind of stupid, really."

"Oh? Do tell whatever the reason for the 'invincible Mikey' to roundhouse kick you. And for Emma to take his side on the matter."

"Ah... they're just mad that I apparently haven't made you my girlfriend yet."

"Huh??"

"I know, stupid, isn't it? They both have been bugging me about this for years now, claiming that they 'want you to be their actual sister'. What's worse is that gramps has the same sentiment as them too."

"Seriously? Sano-sensei as well?"

"Yup. He says he doesn't mind having you as his "granddaughter-in-law" and that you're the only person I ever truly listen to. Bullshit by the way."

"Is it it really though?"

"That's not the point. Hell, even the guys are teasing me for not making it official with you yet. Bugging me about it whenever we hangout, saying that if I don't act soon, they'll steal you away from me."

"I-.... wow... I guess that explains what happened the last time we hung out."

"Yeah, sorry if their words bothered you."

"No, no it's fine. But I'm just wondering... what do you think about all this?"

"Huh?"

"Like.... with everyone bugging you, and well me about this, what are your thoughts on us dating?"

"...?!?... I guess.... I don't mind that..."

"Really? I'm glad then."

"Huh? What do you mean."

"I guess I don't mind us dating as well."

".....Wait..., so are you saying I can be your boyfriend?!?! Really?!?"

"Yes! I'm saying you can be my boyfriend, and I can be your girlfriend, idiot."

"I'm actually so happy right now I could literally kiss you."

"Then do it, Shin. Who's gonna stop you?"

a/n: i love him so much oml, thinking about writing longer fics about some of these scenarios

m.list

[stinmybubs]

“AudioFic.” 100 Followers Special! SLIGHT NSFW

AN: HIII, I am so sorry for not posting ive been very busy getting ready for graduation! Xoxo! I am making more things for my 100 follower specials! Just check the link bellow to see what I will write my lovelies!

100 Follower special Post!

B. Katsuki x AFAB! Reader

“High School Sweethearts.” - By Melanie Martinez

"Can we just be honest? These are the requirements. If you think you can be my one and only true love."

Everyone called you picky. You were picky with food, friends, and men. Its not like you were picky, you were just cautious always taking precautions so you wouldn't get hurt by anyone you surround yourself with.

"You must promise you love me."

When Bakugou Katsuki confessed to you it was a shock, you always hid around Bakugou, clinging to him because of your constant anxiety with interacting to others. You didn't know why but he always let you cling to him, maybe he liked to protect you because you seemed so weak.

And when he confessed you didn't know how to feel, scared or happy? But what Katsuki did that day made your heart flutter, he simply kissed you and offered you to sleep in his dorm that night.

"And if you fuck me over I will rip your fucking face apart."

You had serious jealousy problems, anytime another girl interacted with him you felt the most overwhelming feeling of jealousy which made you feel sick. But you warned you new boy friend.

"I'll ruin you if you fuck me over Katsuki."

"Step one, you must accept that I'm a little out my mind."

The little threat you gave Katsuki caught him off guard, he didn't know a little meek thing like you would ever threaten to even hurt a fly. That is till he started dating you.

An example will be how a girl from a general studies class was fawning over him at lunch, you were getting yourself food when you saw the horrendous scene in front of you, the sickening feeling of jealousy and your blood boiling making your hands shake.

"Katsu!" you call out to him, a large smile planted on your face. Katsuki turned away from the girl to walk over to you.

"If you ever let a girl fawn over you like that. I'm afraid i wont be able to become a hero anymore. Especially for murder!" You cheer, giving your boyfriend a nice pat on the shoulder.

He found this side of you quiet attractive.

"Step two, this is a waste if you cant walk me down the finish line."

"Do you wanna get married one day Katsu?" You were currently laying on his bed while he was at his desk doing some homework.

"Eh? Where did this come from?" He turned to you questioningly.

"Well...I think that what's the point of a relationship if you aren't in it to marry? So tell me now so this isn't a waste..." He heard your voice drop as you tuck your face into your arms, trying your best not to cry already.

"Of course I wanna marry you ya' baby." He stood up from his seat, sitting down next to you causing the springs of the bed to bounce a bit. It was quiet for a bit while he played with your hair.

"Thank you Katsu.."

"Step three, Give me passion, don't make fun of my fashion."

"Katsu! How do I look hm? Good?" You had forced Katsuki to follow you to the mall to do some clothing shopping, he sat on the dressing room bench with his arms crossed and a very scary scowl on his face.

"You look fine."

"Thats all? I look fine? C'mon i know you got better style than that be honest!"

"Fine, but don't say I didn't try to be nice."

With that you two had a fun clothing date, the two of you trying to style each other in different ways, katsuki getting mad at you when you picked out something stupid for him or for yourself.

"I want my girl to look the best out there! Give me that you're wearing something else." He snatches the piece of clothing out of your hands causing you to laugh. Watching him try to help you, make sure you shine out the other girls made you strangely happy.

"Step four. Give me more, Give me more."

You love the way Katsuki held you, always keeping his hand on your waist or around it, the feeling of his big rough hands touching you made the heat in-between your legs intense to where you were whimpering and begging Katsuki to fuck you.

Katsuki would always tease you in different ways, making sure by the time you both made it back to the dorms you were a wet mess begging for him while you were underneath him on his bed.

"If you cant handle a heart like mine, Don't waste your time with me. If you're not down to bleed, no, oh."

Katsuki can be mean. Really mean, even to you his own girlfriend. Its not a surprise to anyone that he has anger issues especially after a rough day at school Katsuki doesn't want anyone to bother him so he just goes straight up to his room to shut the world out.

"Katsu? Can I come in...?" You carefully knock on the door, really wanting to see if he was okay. But you got no answer.

You knock again, surely you're the only person he wont shut out! The only person he wont snap at! Right?

At some point you give up knocking, but that last knock you did made Katsuki open the door so quickly it made you jump back.

"What the hell do you want? Go back to your fucking room I don't wanna hear your voice right now." The look on his face made your heart drop, the feeling of all your words getting caught in your throat.

"Oh....I-...I'm sorry." Tears begin filling up your eyes, Fuck don't cry. You couldn't help but cry, you were really sensitive and that's something you hated about yourself.

You were a cry baby.

"Fuck-...Y/n Cmere, I'm sorry." He quickly pulls you into his arms, making sure to close the door behind you. Letting you cry into his shirt. "I'm sorry for crying so much...I-...I know you m-might need some time alone!" You say through choked sobbing.

"Cmere...Don't worry about that anymore, Jst' stop yer cryin and lets sleep together okay?" You simply nodded at him, trying your best to stop your tears.

"If you cant handle the choking, the biting, the loving, the smothering 'til you can't handle it. no more."

You loved being clingy, and Katsuki loved being clingy as well, or course he will get embarrassed if you two are caught kissing in anyway but he doesn't mind you clinging onto him. He will always hold you in anyway he can, he does not care what others think because you are his girl!

Cut off

AN: Sorry for the cut off of the song! It has so many lyrics and I'm trying to get Dragon King! B. Katsuki x Reader done! Xoxo Stimnybubs.

[whimsical-roasting]

Jamie Tartt and the Five Love Language

THERES SO MUCH I COULD SAYYY and special thanks to @caapsiizzereads for helping me brainstorm some of these!! ugh just wanna love on the babyboy so much yknow??

TELL ME IF THERE'S MORE YOU CAN THINK OFFFFF

Words of Affirmations:

HE HAS A PRAISE KINK. ITS LITERALLYYYYYYY CANNON 

Babyboy is so precious…… he knows how it feels not to get kind words, and so he just can’t help but give them out to you

“Woah, babe…your mind..” in a stunned manner when you go off about something you’re passionate about

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers at night as you fall asleep

Has a shared spotify playlist that you both can collab on, and it’s just songs (lyrics) that remind you of each other!! Jamie plays it when he’s heading to away games in the coach, and it makes him feel a bit calmer 

Giving you ALL the praise and dirty talk during sexy time “you’re so fucking beautiful”, “you make me feel so so good” “holy fuck angel” 

Sometimes just stares at you randomly with a goofy look and you’re like ??? what ??? what is it ?? did he realise i’m ugly or my nose is weird or wHAT !!!???!! and he’s just like, “you look like sunshine”, all smitten and shit

Kisses each feature on your body and says “my favourite” to every. single. one.

“I believe in ya!”

Desperately wants to make sure you guys have a couple’s song - something meaningful that describes how he feels about you that he can play for you both… like Sweet Nothings by Taylor Swift/Hearts Don’t Break Around You by Ed Sheeran/Simple Things by Miguel 

Plays that song after fights when the silences are still tender; when you’re drunk and slow dancing in the kitchen at 3am; when you’re getting dressed for a gala, and he’s fixing his hair, and you’re putting on your earrings

“I adore you, sweetheart”, “you look like a pretty flower”, “me heart fuckin sings seeing ya”

Physical Touch:

Absent-mindedly plays with your hair

Nuzzles face into your neck and then peppers kisses on your shoulder

Massages/scratches your scalp cause he knows how good it feels when you do it for him

Traces patterns on your knee and thighs if you sit next to him

Gotta be holding hands at all times

Pinky promises are sacred… probs locks pinkies and then kisses his thumb to “stamp it” 

Slapping his ass as he walks past you, and so he’s always covering his butt, complaining “babeeee you can’t do thattttt”, but then he’ll be all pouty if one day you don’t slap his ass when he walks past… “do you not love me anymore?”

He will randomly come up to you, wrap your arms around you, getting as close as possible and tuck his face between your shoulder and neck, saying that he’s recharging

Always gotta be touching some part of you.. it’s the only way to live tbh

Gift Giving:

Remember when Jamie was like, “can’t I just buy them all PS5s as a sorry??” “what better thing to spend money on than love?“ LMFAOOOO babyboy :”) he means well

The amount of effort he put into Roy’s gift for Uncle’s Day <3 

Jamie would fucking love getting you fancy, expensive gifts around big occasions (birthdays, holidays etc.) 

BUT I think he’d also love getting you smaller gifts like… Sunday morning flowers, or stocking up on different kinds of herbal tea in his kitchen cause he knows sometimes you’re in the mood for a random cuppa on quiet evenings

Personally, someone like me loves cute tea cups/mugs, so I think buying two mugs to keep in his house cause “they’re so cute, and I wanted them for us” would make him so happy!! He doesn’t even use them all that much, but just seeing them in the cupboard makes him smiley

The kind to want matching outfits or colour-coordinated outfits - most def would buy you both matching sneakers (so would Isaac/most of the team with his S/O)

Gets you a ‘J’ gold chain and wears a gold one with your initial 

If he sees some targeted ad on your insta or something for what you’ve searched up he’s like hmmm,,,,,,i might just,,,*add to cart*

Quality Time:

Wants to spend all his time with you!! Ofc he does!!! 

Is happy to just sit in silence, stroking your calves he watches tiktok with your legs on his lap!! Esp if you’re like reading/doing work on your laptop

He just wants to be there yknow? And he tries not to be annoying but the little puppy can’t help but wanna talk and touch and, ultimately, annoy you

Tries to invite you to all his events? “Can me girlfriend come?” 

Even the ones that aren’t for guests, “babeeee, what do ya mean you won’t come to Colin’s guys' night? I swear they’ll be fine with it…probably!!” “can I come to girl’s night with ya? I’ll let you paint me nails…come on.. Pleaseeee?”

Texts you periodically during the night regardless ahahaha

I like the idea of, “hey I gotta drive somewhere, and it’s gonna take me 30 minutes..can you talk?” whilst one of you is in the car and the other’s at home or, I dunno, has some time during their day 

Date nightssssss every two weeks… OR if the season gets busy and he’s also exhausted from Roy’s trainings then SPECIFIC carved out time to be affectionate and date-y

“I’m so sorry, love, I know we had that reservation tonight, but I came home knackered and just crashed…” “Jaim, it’s okay-” “No, no, it’s not! I’m so fucking dead from training I don’t even get to take ya out anymore! What if- what if you wanted a picnic, huh!” “Baby, it’s okay, really.. How about we set up a picnic on the living room floor and order takeout? Something that Roy’ll let you eat, yea?” “I’m so fucking grateful for ya, angel, I swear” 

He always wants you to watch him score a goal on FIFA cause he’s a child ahahaha… probably teaches you how to play and then pouts when you score as Obisanya 

Wants to try out random hobbies with you - sip and paint cause “I’ll have an excuse to draw outta the lines”; knitting cause “Bumbercatch said it’s soothin, babe”; quick dry clay but he makes a big circular lump at first and grins at you “look babe!! I made a football!” 

Acts of Service:

HIM TEACHING ROY HOW TO RIDE A BIKE 

Makes you coffee once he’s back from his 4am training 

Always offers you his jacket/coat

“I know this was stressing ya, babe, so I took care of it”

“Don’t worry, love, I’ve been practising this dish just for you.. I won’t burn it this time, promise”

Late night cravings???? McDonald’s fries and an Oreo Mcflurry?? He’s already slipping on his jacket and finding his keys (imagine how attentive he’d be with your weird ass pregnancy cravings omg)

ALWAYS opens doors for you... Probably yells “WAIT” when in the car with you just so he can jog out and open your door with a grin 

Always down to carry your purse, puts it on his shoulder like it’s HIS despite having his lil bum bag across his chest

Nightime or morning routine, he probs has to get ready before you so he lays out your skincare for you. Probs adds toothpaste on your brush if he hears you getting ready to enter the bathroom

Probably the main one driving everywhere, but if you drive and need to fill up your tank, he’ll be the one to get out and fill it then pay,,, he’s almost offended that you say you’re capable of doing so yourself, “babe, what am I here for?!”

Tries to eat in accordance with your dietary requirements (e.g. I’m vegetarian) if you guys have date night - or he’ll always have like mouthwash and gum so he can kiss ya later without making you feel uncomfortable!!

“Ooh babe, they have the ravioli ya like and the vodka gnocchi!! Okay, you order the ravioli, and I’ll get the gnocchi and we’ll split, yea?” “Hey Jaim, can we order fries too?” “Fuck yea!”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Get My Lovin’ on the Run

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: The Kingdom

Warnings: Drug and alcohol use

Summary: You and Daryl party a little too hard after a long day.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. It didn’t take much to finish it. It’s just pure idiocy, really. Something funny and exaggerated to maybe help me feel like writing again.

*gif by @heartdrift

It had been a bad day. A long, exhausting, terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. More walkers than you could count. You had stared down the business end of a handgun, not once but twice. You and Daryl had taken a beating, not once but twice. The supplies you had secured on your run had been jacked, leaving the two of you sprawled out on the pavement while the truck disappeared into the distance. The long walk back to Daryl’s bike was filled with alternating tense silence and heated arguments. 

You had parted ways when arriving at the Kingdom, opting to stay in different apartments rather than the shared one that had been set aside for you. You truly had no intention of following through, so you had made certain Daryl had left toward the designated housing. There was something special you had found on the run, small enough to fit in your jacket pocket. The one item you had been able to bring back. 

You weren’t sure of Daryl’s stance on your peace offering but hell, you’d lie on a bed of hot coals if it would cool the animosity between the two of you. You gave him a few hours to calm down before showing up at the door. He opened up after the second knock, giving you a once over before leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Your hands came up immediately, palms out. 

“I come in peace.”

“Thought ya was stayin’ somewhere else?” Maybe you hadn’t waited long enough. 

“Come on, Dixon. You know you’d miss me.” He raised an eyebrow in challenge, your bottom lip jutting out. “Don’t be that way. Look! I brought a peace offering!” The little bag dangled between the two of you, two slender white joints inside. Daryl’s expression didn’t change. 

“You’re jokin’.” The archer shook his head and turned to walk away. He didn’t shut the door so you took that as an invitation to follow. The heel of your boot caught the door’s edge to kick it closed before jogging after him. 

“It’ll be fun!” You offered, making yourself at home on the couch. Daryl eyed the bag while you removed one of the joints. “Probably old as fuck, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N.”

“You, sir, can continue to entertain your attitude of majestic stick in the mudness or,” you waved the offering again, “you can smoke with me so all these bruises don’t hurt as badly and we can forget about this shitty day.” His eyes narrowed while he quite obviously chewed the inside of his cheek. “What’ll it be? Mud?” You gestured vaguely toward where he stood. “Or epic?” You placed the joint between your lips. 

Arms still crossed, the fingers of one hand drummed against the forearm of the other. Just when you thought he might turn you down, his shoulders dropped and he reached inside his vest to pull out his lighter and toss it to you. 

You snatched it out of the air with ease. “Hells yeah!”

Carol had seen you heading toward the apartment earlier after already talking with Daryl about the day’s events. When you didn’t return, she decided that maybe bringing some dinner wouldn't be a terrible idea. You were both pretty banged up and she knew Daryl, at the very least, was in quite the foul mood. She excused herself from her conversation with Ezekiel and Jerry to put together two plates. When she headed over, the two men quickly followed along. 

“I’m sure they’re fine. If nothing else, they’ll enjoy something to eat.” She pacified, knowing full well that she at least wanted to make sure that you two weren’t in the process of murdering one another. Your tempers were equally matched, only rivaled by your stubbornness. 

The three climbed the stairs and were several doors down when the smell assaulted their senses. 

“Alright!” Jerry whooped. “Someone’s having a good time.”

“Ugh, smells like a dispensary up here.” Carol’s lip curled. She glanced at the other apartment doors after knocking, waiting for one of you to call out or answer.

“Enter!” Your voice sing-songed from somewhere inside. 

The moment the door swung inward, Carol put her hand over her nose. “Oh my god.” The entire apartment was fuzzy with a thin veil of smoke. “Daryl? Y/N?” 

“Livin’ room!” Daryl’s voice was as gravelly as ever but something about his tone had Carol’s jaw already dropping. 

“Oh my god, she didn’t.” She quickly placed the plates on the kitchen counter, next to an empty ziplock bag and open bottle of whiskey, and all but ran to the living room with the two men on her heels. The sight had her choking back a cackle, hiding her smile behind her hand. 

You were on one side of the couch, hanging upside down off the cushion with your ass against the back and your feet up against the wall. Daryl, bless him, was lying across the coffee table, one foot propped up on the arm of the couch while the other was settled on a nearby chair. 

“Right on.” Jerry chuckled, smile fading when Ezekiel cast him a stern look. 

“Sup, Jer-bear?” Daryl drawled, twisting around to see the newcomers without lifting himself up in the slightest. You made what you thought resembled bear claws at the man but really just looked like you were trying to tickle someone. 

“Y/N, you I get but,” Carol almost snorted and had to cover her mouth again, “Daryl Dixon, are you high?”

“As a goddamn kite.” He answered after a moment of just smiling widely up at her. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen all of his teeth, but there they were. “Drunk too!”

“He’s not mud!” You chirped, trying and failing to pat his chest when you couldn’t quite reach. Ezekiel wasn’t even aware he had started to smile while Jerry was about to absolutely combust trying to hold in his laughter. Carol, tears in her eyes from the strain of controlling herself, looked from you back down to Daryl. 

“Not mud, huh? What are you then?”

With a slow sideways glance at you that lingered somewhere between mischievous and proud, he shoved a fist in the air. “Epic!” He hollered, his right foot sliding out of the chair. 

“Epic!” You echoed, pushing your feet against the wall so you could stretch your arms and drum both hands on Daryl’s stomach. The motions all seemed so fast to you and Daryl, but to the other three occupants in the room, you were moving in slow motion. 

“Should we, uh, get lost then?” Jerry asked, turning toward the hall that led to the door. 

“Absolutely not.” Carol, still somehow managing to keep her composure, crossed the room to sit on the chair previously occupied by Daryl’s boot. “I brought you two some dinner.”

Your eyes lit up as you let yourself tumble to the floor, followed equally as gracelessly by Daryl. “Food!” You crawled across the archer, who seemed to find it hilarious. “Daryl. Daryl!” Finally sitting beside his head, you were shaking him forcefully. “She brought food.”

“I want pie.” He replied with an expression that was entirely too serious. “Didja bring pie?” The archer reached over to grasp Carol’s pant leg and tug repeatedly. 

“I didn’t, but I’ll make you one tomorrow, Pookie.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed deeply while you lost your mind at the nickname. “Make me what?”

“Pie.” Carol chuckled. This was just too good. 

“I want pie!” He repeated, appearing just as excited as the first time he got the idea. 

“But Pookie,” you placed a hand on either side of his face and squished. “She brought food. Do you know what this means?”

“What?” 

“I don’t remember, but there’s food! I’ll race ya!” 

“Ya win.”

You pouted. “You didn’t even start your engine!”

“Ain’t a car, woman.” He made a show of slapping away your hands. 

“You’re a motorcycle!” You threw up your arms and twisted to fall backwards across his torso while he nodded from his spot on the floor. 

“M’a goddamn motorcycle.” 

Carol cleared her throat, earning two sets of bloodshot eyes to focus on her. “Should we bring your food in here for you?” 

“Ya brought food?”

“She brought food!”

Jerry was barely keeping it together, finally laughing when Ezekiel failed at withholding his own giggles. 

“I would give anything for a video camera.” Carol told the two men while she got to her feet. Reaching down, she pulled on your shoulders and helped you to stand.

“Whoa.” Your wide eyes blinked. “You shrank, Carol.”

“What?” She chuckled, reaching for Daryl, who apparently thought it was hilarious to start wiggling from side to side in order to avoid her. “Daryl! Stop!” She laughed, finally just latching onto one of his belt loops to keep him from sliding across the floor again. 

“Hey! Them’s my pants! Get your own!”

“Yeah, get your own!” You swatted Carol’s hands away from Daryl until she threw them in the air and stepped back to stand beside the two men. “C’mon, Dixon!” Your fingers latched onto the front of his shirt and you pulled, not budging the man an inch. The effort you put into backfired and you lost your balance, tumbling face-first into his chest. 

“You’re clumsy.” He laughed. 

“And you’re standing between me and food.”

“Technically, m’layin’, short stuff.”

“Don’t call me names, douche canoe.”

“This may be the best thing I’ve seen in my entire life.” Carol snorted, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes. 

“I agree that it is indeed entertaining.” Ezekiel met her eyes with a smile and a nod. 

“Uh, guys.” Jerry cleared his throat and jerked his chin toward the floor. The other two granted him matching quizzical expressions before following his gesture. 

“Oh.” They breathed in unison. 

You were now thoroughly straddling the archer, lips sealed over his and fingers wound tightly in his shirt while his twisted into your messy hair. When clothes started being pulled at, the trio scrambled out of the room in a manner that would have otherwise been comical. 

“Should we stop them?” Jerry whispered after the front door was pulled closed behind Carol. 

“Are you kidding?” Carol admonished with a grin. “I was wondering what it would take to get those two to finally start figuring things out. I just didn’t think it would be a little liquor and weed.”

“I sense there will be a lot to discuss between them come morning.” The King noted with a raise of his brows. 

“Yes there will.” Carol smiled, looking back toward the door before they began to descend the stairs. “I am personally looking forward to it.”

[nom-nommmm1]

EURONYMOUS - ONE SHOTS

Masterlist for more !!

A/n: this is just something small while I work on my request pls be patient with me :(

Content warning !!: it’s all just fluff and some swearing

Euro tries to act tough in front of the guys but when he’s only with you he is the sweetest little thing ever

He totally keeps snacks EVERYWHERE “just in case” idk why I think he does that buttt he does in my mind

If you have a different native language than him he will totally learn the basics of it, like I love you, good morning, hello, goodbye

He isn’t a huge fan of cuddling but he knows you like it so he cuddles as much as he can with you

In public he stays a little ways away from you, but when you get closer to him he always has his hands on your shoulders, arms, waist, always.

SHOULDER KISSES.

When he’s in public he will be going behind you and hold you by the waist whilst kissing your shoulder softly

He’s absolutely whipped for you and tried his best to hide it from the guys because it wasn’t “metal of him”

Even before you guys were even a thing, before you even met Euronymous he would stare when you came to one of his friends parties. Of course his friends noticed and told him to shoot his shot

You guys love to play pranks/jokes on your friends, like just trick them to think something

Very mischievous duo, you two

You’d tell Faust that there was going to be a party in downtown but when he got there he went into the quiet house, all he found was a note that read ‘thanks for being gullible, we love ya - Euro & y/n’

Stupid pranks like that

Now Euronymous is very big on the metal scene but I think if you had different style then him but the same music taste as him he’d be very interested in you, he’d watch you (not in a creepy way) he just wants to understand your style more.

If you had the same style and music as him he’d love it too. He’d rant to you about “the bullshit some people in the scene call music” and all of his work problems

Euronymous wakes up very late every single day, and when he does so he just keeps you in bed with him, almost suffocating you while you’re just trying to get up and go to work.

I think the first few weeks of the relationship Euronymous would’ve been cold, not because he didn’t like you but he was afraid he’d mess up by opening up and you’d leave him just like that.

But when he realized you would never leave him he clung onto you for dear life

He loves movie dates. I feel like he’s super anxious around even though you’re his partner he gets very conscious of what he says around you, and movie dates are perfect because you can exchange very little words to each other but still sit in comfortable silence and enjoy each others presence

I think he also counts cleaning his shop every once in a while with you a date. You guys just cleaning for hours together.

You sigh, you’d been scrubbing the floors of Euros shop for hours. “You ready to get out of here babe?” He asks coming over to you once he’d finished reorganizing all of the records in the shelf’s and setting up with display. You stand up before turning to face him “yea let’s go” he brushes a stray hair out of your face as you hand him his keys. You guys lock up and head off to your house for some movie watching and giving over some lyrics he had thought would be good for a song.

Speaking of lyrics for a song, he always makes you read and listen to his song before he puts it out to the public. He trusts your judgment more than his own when it comes to music.

He has a special blanket he puts on his bed everytime you come over because he knows it’s your favorite.

You give this man stuffed animals? Yeah he keeps them on his bed, his shelf’s for decor? You name it he’s got it there. He loves to stare at them and just think of you.

OBSESSED WITH DRIVING YOU AROUND.

Especially at night, this man doesn’t care if you’re going to a club or Walmart to get something to make a midnight snake he LOVES it. He loves just being there with you making casual conversation while having his hand gently placed on your thigh.

If you get insecure about yourself when you put your hair up he will put his hair up like yours and keep it that way till you take yours down.

He adores matching with you, so you guys basically do it everyday, even it’s just something little like having the same slayer pin on your shirts. He loves it so much

He loves rubbing his fingers along your knuckles, it’s almost like a nervous tic he does. In public when he gets overwhelmed while holding your hand he’ll just sit there and play with your hand until you guys have to let go

He loves eating meals you cook bc it makes him feel proud that one day his children will have you as a parent

If your not happy he’s not happy, he can’t be happy when your suffering because his whole life basically revolves around you

Thank you for reading !! :)

Enjoy!

[hammity-hammer]

thinking about steve going to cosmetology school and learning how to be an esthetician and cut hair, because nothing matters to him more than making sure other people take care of themselves and feel beautiful in their bodies

and eddie is an absolute little trash man who doesn’t know the first thing about skin care besides that he should probably wash his face with something other than his bar soap that he uses on his body, so he gets some cheap face wash that doesn’t have too many ingredients, but he’s still not 100% sure if it’s good or not. he doesn’t take care of his hair much, either, just washes it every few days (he does know the difference between shampoo and conditioner, and vaguely how to use them) and uses some random leave in conditioner spray he found that helps his curls stay,, curly. 

and eddie spends most of his time getting stabbed by his coworkers and friends, because he 1000% would at the least work in a tattoo shop, but probably would wanna stab people and help them look and feel cool as fuck

so one day steve decides he wants a cute little nose piercing, because robin got one recently and it looked cool on her, so why wouldn’t it look cool on him? plus, best friends do everything together, right??

he goes to the same shop rob went to, and sees one of the most beautiful people he’s ever laid eyes on, and then realizes that the man he’s been making googoo eyes at is definitely about to be the one to stab him, and holy fuck if that doesn’t make him so nervous he almost passes out

and when he’s sitting on the chair so eddie can mark his nose for the piercing, he gets a real up close look at him and realizes that his skin is fucking perfect, and being the little skin care nerd he is, he asks him about it

“oh uhh... i just kinda wash my face every few days when i feel like showering? not anything special..” eddie says, throwing him an awkward smile before he sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth and concentrates on getting his mark perfect.

“i think... this might be the best spot! take a look, don’t touch your nose please, and let me know if you want me to move it!” he tells steve as he steps back and gestures to the mirror next to them. 

steve checks his nose out in the mirror and nods, “yeah! i genuinely have no idea how it’s supposed to look, so i trust you.” he takes a moment to look at eddie again while he sets up the rest of his station, and makes sure his clamp has the right tightness. “are you for real that you only wash your face every few days..?”

“i mean.. i don’t know why i’d lie about that? i just... am real busy and haven’t ever really done anything else?” eddie shrugs, “if you’d please lay back, i’m just about ready to stick ya.” 

they finish the piercing, with steve barely bleeding, but crying quite a bit, and steve’s on his way with his cute little gem sticking out of his nostril. 

eddie definitely thinks that’s the last he’ll see of steve, even though he was so gorgeous and asked... odd? questions? but he guesses that seeing the pretty man at a beauty supply shop made sense, all things considering. steve doesn’t see him yet, because he’s bending over to pick items out of a box on the floor and put them on the shelves he’s stocking, and thank god he doesn’t because eddie really can’t stop a giant blush from spreading on his face. 

“uh.. excuse me.” he coughs awkwardly, trying extremely hard to keep his eyes off of steve’s ass. “i was wondering if you guys have any of this one face mask i like?” he asks, holding up an empty bottle of an old mask that he got for free from nancy forever ago.

“oh yeah! that’s just over here, it’s a really good mask!” steve says with a big smile, leading him over to the brand that it belongs to. “that one costs about... $30, but seeing as you stabbed me and definitely undercharged me, it’ll be on me.” he smiles, taking a box and starting to walk to the front counter.

“wh- how do you know i undercharged you? what if we just... do really cheap piercings?” eddie stutters, surprised that steve had even noticed. he definitely did undercharge him on account of being a total babe, but steve didn’t even have ear piercings, so how could he have known? they don’t keep their prices visible, and he just kind of gets to charge what he wants as long as he covers the jewelry and tool cost.

“i definitely don’t think normal shops charge $15 for a nose piercing, dude. plus, my best friend got her nose pierced by you a few weeks ago and you toootally charged her like.. $50 bucks.” steve grins, scanning the face mask and his employee card. “and i do so appreciate the cheap piercing, so just accept this as a thank you. and, maybe, let me buy you dinner this week?” he smiles, writing his number on a receipt and handing it to eddie.

“sure thing, stevie. lucky for you, flattery works on me. i’ll give you a call soon, sweetheart.” eddie blows him a kiss with a wink and walks off, his free face mask and steve’s number in his hand. 

[miasmal-sweetness]

Eye Level

NSFW - MDNI - 18+ ONLY

My brain is currently refusing to cooperate and work on any other writing until I spit out my dumb little one-shot with my favorite trope (size differences) with one of my favorite demons. So here ya go. Hopefully I’ll be back to writing out my planned Cloud fics afterwards.

Eye Level

Summary: Alastor x reader. 4.1k. You're short. You know it, everyone at the hotel knows it. You've assumed that it's some sort of divine punishment for whatever sins you committed while alive, but it's really not so bad, as long as no one hides your step-stool. Today, you've found a new problem with it, though, when you try to get a little closer to your favorite 7-foot-tall demon.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, dead dove do not eat, size difference (reader reaches Alastor’s hips), smut, reader is gender-neutral with reference to having a vagina, reader wears a dress and bloomers, Alastor being sadistic, reader being a masochist, Alastor calls you “good girl” because I’m a sucker for it

The red light of the sky outside is bleeding in to the hotel, burning your eyes and causing an ache in your head. You want to shut it out, but Niffty is busy cleaning all the windows. Rubbing your right temple, you shift on the couch in an attempt to angle yourself away from the worst of the light as you continue to read your book. The words on the page seem harsher than before against the rough, yellowed pages. In addition to Earth’s actual sunlight, you also find yourself missing the convenience of heading out to the pharmacy to pickup some painkillers that weren’t illicit substances.

“Something the matter, dearest?”

You lift your head at the sound of Alastor’s voice. He’s blocking the light as he stands in front of you, his long shadow easing the pain in your head. You have to crane your neck to look at his smiling face, but you’re used to it at this point.

“Oh, I just have a headache,” you say with a light shrug. “I’m okay. How are you doing?”

“Wonderful as always, darling,” he assures. “Why don’t you join me for a cup of coffee upstairs? I’ve found it works like a charm for a headache.”

You perk up at the thought. It’s a little late in the day to have coffee, but you’re not one to turn down a drink and a snack with Alastor. You take care of most of the cooking for the hotel, since Niffty took over your old job of cleaning, so having something made by another person is a nice treat. Plus, he’s good company—he’s the most polite person you think you’ll ever meet in Hell.

“I’d love to,” you say, sliding off of the couch. You smooth out your dress and tuck your book under your arm; you can finish it another time. Your certain that if you were taller, Alastor would do the gentlemanly thing you see him do with others and link arms with you, but that’s not really possible at your height. Instead, he leads the way by engulfing your little hand with his.

You’re barely focused on the small-talk he makes with you as he guides you up the stairs. His gloves are smooth, and you can feel his claws tickling the skin on your wrist and hand. You know that, as much as Alastor enjoys invading other people’s personal space, he does not enjoy allowing others in to his personal space. Despite this, he has been rather open to your presence; picking you up, holding your hand, ruffling your hair. It feels nice. It makes you feel special—like he’s bestowing an honor on you just by patting you on the head, one that the others don’t get.

You nearly trip over a step, and it snaps you out of your thoughts. Alastor stops you from hitting the ground by extending his arm, letting you put your weight on him for balance.

“Careful, dearest,” he chides, “I’m not always here to catch you.”

Your headache is back, caused by the heat rushing to your face and chest. “Right, thank you,” you mumble, ducking your head. “I-I was just thinking.”

“About what?” You should have seen that coming.

Your eyes dart around as he guides you towards his room. “Uh, j-just—the book you lent me,” you spit out. “I’m almost finished with it. It’s really good.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he says, holding open the door for you. “It’s not often I meet another down here that enjoys a good book.”

You smile and step in to his room—immediately, you’re hit by the scent of paper, candles, wood that is well-cared for, and decaying leaves and other plant matter. You know his room changes. You know that what you see is different from what the others see when they enter. You’ve heard them mention the swamp that makes up half of the room, often complete with a decaying deer. Every time he has invited you in, however, it has been nothing other than a lovely room that looks like it belongs in some fancy townhome from the 1920s.

Just another thing that makes you feel special.

“If you have a favorite book, I’d love to read it,” you suggest as you slip out of your shoes.

Alastor’s grin grows even wider than usual. “Really? Well, I’ll have to think about it; I have quite a few in my collection that I favor.” It’s a lie, an excuse to put this off for later. There’s something he doesn’t want you to see. You can sense it, deep down in your gut, but you ignore it. He’s always shielded your eyes from the bad—from the gore of Hell, from those that would try to take advantage of you, even from some of the arguments among the others. This is no different.

Moving on from the topic, Alastor snaps his fingers, and a tray of coffee and small snacks appear on his dining table. He’s added cream and sugar for you; he doesn’t understand your sweet-tooth, but he does indulge it.

“Oh, and a treat for you, little one.”

He snaps his fingers again, and when you next blink your eyes, you find that a dish has appeared on the tray. It’s a slice of cake—the same you remember ogling outside the bakery window the last time you went outside the hotel. The hotel doesn’t offer payment for your services, so your measly pocket change was not enough to get it. He must have noticed your longing for that delicious, soft piece of cake. You don’t even remember the last time you had the luxury of cake. The last time was probably when you were alive, and you have the feeling it was one of those store-bought cakes that are dry and covered in thick, sickeningly sweet icing.

This cake is fancy. This cake is fluffy and standing tall, covered in berries and whipped cream with just the right amount of sweetness. And most of all—it means that Alastor paid that much attention to you on a silly outing that he didn’t need to be a part of.

“Thank you, Alastor!”

You throw out your arms and wrap them around him. It’s a chance as good as any. The closest you have come to hugging him is when he’s picked you up and carried you around like a doll. Surely a gift like this means he would be okay with it—although, the second you touch him, you realize you’re probably reading a little too much in to a slice of cake, and maybe it’s because you forgot to eat lunch.

Your arms wrapped around his legs, your feet in between his. And now you remember just how short you are compared to him. Normally, you’re either staring at the ground or you’re turning your head all the way up to look at his face, which makes it easy to forget that your head reaches an… unfortunate location that you have just unknowingly pushed yourself against.

Your face is burning again. Your head is throbbing. If you weren’t already condemned to Hell, this would probably have gotten you in. Your cheek is right against his groin. You fear looking up at his face for a reaction, but you do it anyway and see that, despite his smile, he looks to be just as shocked as you, if not more. And then it changes. The shock is fading. His eyes are getting darker, and that strange look in his eyes—one that you’ve never seen on him—is directed at you.

You force your body in to action. “I-I’m sorry!” you squawk, stumbling away from him. “Um! I-I just—I was excited; I didn’t mean to—uh, s-sorry, sorry!” You’re clumsily making your way back towards the door, nearly slipping from the lack of friction your socks have on the polished floor.

Alastor takes a step closer to you, and you bristle, picking up the pace. “Ma cher, don’t—”

“Sorry!” you cry one last time, slipping out the door and in to the safety of the hallway. You dash to the end of it and around a corner, where you wait to hear any signs of him following. Nothing. The only thing you hear is your own racing heart and the blood rushing through your body. You feel hot, shaky, and a little sweaty—your feet are sweating through your socks.

Your socks.

You forgot your fucking shoes in his room.

Groaning, you sink down to the floor and peel off your socks, freeing your overheated feet. You replay the event in your mind as you stare emptily at your toes, wiggling them all one by one. You just had to go and try to hug him—you couldn’t just be patient and wait for him to one day, just maybe, initiate it himself. At the very least, you could have been more careful. You think it might have been a nice hug otherwise. You can still feel the crisp fabric of his pants and the warmth he radiates; you can smell the light scent of smoke and cologne on his clothes. The button of his pants had been against your cheek, and you have no control against the intrusive thought of how the bulge in his pants had felt.

Smacking your cheeks with your palms, you shake your head, as though it would toss the thought out. You need to stop being a little creep and get your shoes. You have one pair of shoes, and you are not willing to walk barefoot anywhere in Pentagram City. The longer you leave them there, the more likely you are to abandon them entirely in hopes of never having a confrontation with Alastor. Well… maybe you could ask Charlie to get you a new pair of shoes? You groan at yourself; you’re already trying to get out of it.

You push yourself to your feet and dust off the skirt of your dress. You take quiet, slow steps towards his room. You can do this. Just don’t think about it. Did he like it? No, stop it. Did it excite him, like it excited you? Stop that! You’re wet—maybe from fear, maybe from arousal. Your hands are shaking as you reach for the doorknob. You contemplate whether it would be best to knock or simply crack the door open and grab your shoes without entering. Alastor is polite, though; you know he’d much rather you be decent and knock.

Heart racing, chest heaving with tiny and anxious breaths, you tap your knuckles against the door. It opens almost immediately.

“Yes, dearest? Have you calmed down now?”

You can’t bring yourself to look at his face; instead, you resort to looking at your bare feet. “I—um, I realized I forgot my shoes here,” you mumble, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

He laughs at this—it makes you shiver, and you hope he doesn’t notice. “You were in quite the hurry,” he teases. “What scared you so badly, darling?”

You mean to simply snatch your shoes and flee, but the moment you cross the threshold, he’s closed the door behind you. Your heart is pounding, as though it thinks you’re sprinting down a hallway from a monster. But it’s just Alastor! He’s never harmed you, only kept you safe—and yet, you feel like you’re caught in a trap. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating from behind you; he’s close, and for once, you wish he’d be less comfortable with you in his personal space. Despite this, you can’t bring your dumb feet to move. You are caught like a deer in headlights.

“What’s wrong, pet?” He’s never called you that before. It’s new and exciting, even though you internally scold yourself for the warm feeling building up in the depths of your gut. “Why have you gone quiet? You’re not ignoring me, are you?”

His fingers ghost over your hair as he speaks, his hand finally coming to rest on your shoulder. It’s not as though you’re hiding your discomfort well, but that doesn’t stop him. Alastor’s left hand comes from behind you and cups your chin, slowly drawing you back until your spine touches his leg. You shut your eyes. You won’t look at him; it makes you feel at least a little less exposed, even if you know he can see the red in your face all the same.

“I don’t appreciate the silent treatment, dearest,” he warns, giving your cheeks a squeeze. “I guess I’ll have to find a way to snap you out of it.”

You’re lifted off of your feet; the sudden feeling of instability makes you open your eyes, even though you try to resist. Before you can register it, Alastor has dropped you on his bed—a bed that seems rarely used—and is now kneeling before you.

“You’ve been terribly rude, pet,” he chides, resting his hand on your knee. “First you get so close to me, then you run off and leave me wanting? Now you come back and refuse to say a word to me.” He clicks his tongue in disdain; its the feeling of his claws digging in to your skin that truly express his displeasure. You shift in place, but keep your mouth sealed. Your mind is blank, anyhow.

When his claws pierce your skin, you move out of reflex, jerking your leg away from his hand. Alastor’s grip is iron-clad and holds you in place so tightly that you can’t even move it a millimeter. Your skin feels hot and cold at the same time, and goosebumps are running up and down your arms. Your mind is getting hazy, to the point that your vision blurs as his other hand creeps up the skirt of your dress.

You try to control your breaths, try to look anywhere other than him. He’s relishing the sight of you as his fingers curl around the waistband of your frilly bloomers. He grips your hip harshly—you know it will leave a reminder in the form of a bruise later. His thumb lightly brushes over your clit, and your toes curl in response. It’s like he’s fascinated by the response your body has to it; he’s watching every twitch, shiver, and shake as he toys with you. Finally, a mewl escapes your lips. Something about the noise draws him out of whatever it is that he’s thinking, and he looks you in the eyes.

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman, darling,” he says, relaxing his grip on you. “So… yes or no?”

This is closer to the Alastor you’re familiar and comfortable with. He looks so calm and pleased that it’s like it’s just another day for him, one where he does not have his hand in your underwear and he’s just making you feel special by gracing you with a pat on your head. The familiarity is reassuring, and you’re such a sucker for how special he makes you feel, so surely there’s no harm in this…

“Yes,” you finally eke out.

Alastor’s grin widens; his thumb immediately resumes teasing you. His other hand strokes up and down your thigh, his claws tickling you and leaving red streaks in their wake. You moan again and are met with the reminder of his watchful gaze; unable to take the feeling of scrutiny anymore, you grab the lapel of his coat and tug on it.

You hear him chuckle and crack your eyes open again. He’s released you—for now—to shrug off his coat and set it aside.

“An eye for an eye, pet?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to agree to this suggestion; he pops open the buttons on the back of your dress in one quick motion. Your dress is pulled from your body, leaving you and your bloomers entirely exposed. You instinctively cover your chest with your forearm. This is hardly an eye for an eye—and you know, deep down, that he knows that and enjoys every bit of imbalance between you two. And you do, too, even if you don’t want to admit it.

His hands are on you again, this time running up and down your waist, back, thighs, and chest. He’s parting your legs and moving in between them, leaning down to press his lips to your throat. You whimper, now suffocated by the dizzying smell of tobacco. Alastor gives you a gentle peck, before his teeth graze your delicate skin and earn a moan from you. You instinctively bristle from the delightful pain, and he pushes your legs apart again.

“Relax, sha,” he murmurs against your neck. “Relax. Would I let you get hurt?”

Yes. He absolutely would. You know that, and you stuff it down. Who cares? Who cares if you get a little hurt? If he lets it happen? If he’s the one to do it, if he’s the one watching and enjoying it, that’s all that really matters.

So you relax for him and melt in to his touch, letting him guide you down to the soft bed. You don’t resist when your bloomers come off. You’re completely exposed to him, and he’s simply standing over you, grinning at the sight. The one sacrifice he does make is his gloves, shedding them to feel your skin in its full glory. His hands are much warmer without his gloves on; the feeling of them rubbing your legs is soothing.

“Alastor,” you mewl—for a moment, you realize just how pathetic and weak you sound, but decide that it’s fine to be pathetic and weak for him and slip back in to your haze. For every inch of fog clouding your mind, Alastor seems to gain a new degree of focus. You can’t tell exactly what it is he’s so focused on, so hungry for, but you enjoy it all the same.

“You sound so lovely when you say my name.” His voice sounds so different now—animalistic, growling. Your heart rate spikes again, but you’re not about to back out now, so you enjoy the adrenaline rush as you gaze up at the ceiling. You hear a shift of fabric, feel him moving between your legs as he looms over you. He slips one hand underneath you to feel the small of your back, and you finally realize what he’s about to—

“Ahh!” you hiss, curling your spine as you reflexively try to escape the source of the pain. You’re brought back to the reality of your situation for a brief moment; Alastor is over seven feet tall, you are definitely not, and he is definitely entirely proportionate for his height. It hurts, worse than anything you think you’ve felt before. You feel like you’re splitting open, despite how wet you are and the fact that he’s barely inside of you.

Alastor’s hands hold you in place by your hip and your arm. You can feel his own excitement and agitation from the tightness of his grip—so tight he’s trembling in the slightest—and the hint of sweat on his palms. “Behave, sha,” he orders through his teeth. He’s trying to suppress your squirming as much as possible, but you can still wriggle in his grip, and every movement of your hips sends a wave of pleasure through him. “Relax and behave.”

Your body is slowly adjusting to the pain, and his voice is bringing you back to that lovely, pleasurable haze. You force yourself to stay still and breathe through it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs with a sigh. “Good girl.” You shudder at the words, and he pushes himself further inside of you. You don’t struggle this time; you simply yelp in pain and squeeze your eyes shut to bear it. He releases your arm to grab you by your chin, forcing your head up. You open your eyes, your face contorted in pain; he’s smiling, of course. It’s a feral, sadistic smile, but it’s not quite the same one you’ve seen before he rips apart some idiot trying to wreck the hotel. This one is different, and you hope it’s one he’s reserved only for you. No matter how frightening it is, you’ll still delight in the honor.

You manage to relax a little more, having adjusted to the feeling of being torn in two. Alastor sighs at the feeling and once again pushes further inside of you. Every effort of yours to behave will be rewarded like this—with more pain, blood, and tears that prick your eyes. You had your chance to say no. You still could. But you don’t. You’re special. He wants you. And you want him—you want him to degrade you, too.

“It hurts, doesn’t it, sha?” he coos in a tone of faux concern. Still, you whimper and nod, curling your fingers in to the linens beneath you. “I know, pet, I know. It must hurt terribly.” Another inch inside of you, another swallowed scream.

“P-please,” you beg. You barely even realize the words are spilling out of your mouth. “I can’t—I can’t take it.”

“You can,” he assures, his hand moving down to your throat. No matter how much he wants to, he doesn’t squeeze. Not yet. He’ll save that for another time, another day. There’s nothing wrong with denying a bit of pleasure now to make it sweeter later. “You can and you will. I will make you.”

You try to scream when you feel the sensation of a burning, sharp pain pierce further inside of you, but he clamps his hand over your mouth.

“No,” he breathes. “You won’t make a sound unless you’re quiet about it. I am the only one who can hear you. This is just for me.”

You swallow back the scream; it feels like it’s still stuck in your chest, making it ache as it tries to beat its way out through your sternum. It’s too painful to breathe. Every single movement is painful. This is as far as he can go without really hurting you—without you truly breaking apart. You can smell blood. You feel like you can maybe taste it, too. The sight of it only spurs him on, and he pounds in to you without any concern for the pain it will cause you.

You can’t even scream; it’s too sudden. Once the waves of pain truly set in, you let out a weak cry and grab on to his arms in an effort to steady yourself. Spots of all colors are appearing in your vision as the sounds of the room—skin against skin, muffled groans that he’s trying to hold back, your own crying—get further and further away. Your grip on him loosens, and he notices.

“I can’t keep going if you’re sleeping, pet,” Alastor taunts, grabbing you by your chin and squeezing. When your pupils only dilate further, he takes a handful of your hair and pulls, giving your head a shake. That does it; you’re awake enough, for now. “There you are.”

You can’t escape the pain. You just have to live with it. Any time he sees you slipping out of consciousness, you’re awakened with a sharp jolt of pain. And now his movements are too fast, too harsh to even begin to pass out. Tears freely flow down your face at this point, as freely as the blood pooling beneath your thighs.

“A-Alastor,” you sob, one hand reaching up for him. “Please.”

The pathetic sight of you stupidly reaching for him is what sends him over the edge. His claws curl in to your skin, and blood drips on to the linens beneath you. He’s looming over you as you feel warmth replace the feeling of an icy knife in your belly, spilling out of you and on to your legs. His eyes are closed, he’s panting, and his brow is furrowed. You like the sight of it, but you can’t fully enjoy it when he’s still causing you so much pain.

Finally, his eyes open, and he pulls away from you without warning, sending another ripple of pain through you. You’re throbbing. You feel like you’ve been impaled and suffocated. You definitely did not cum. And yet, when the look on his face softens, the pain lessens. He’s back to the gentleman you know and adore.

“Oh dear,” he sighs, resting his cheek against his hand—a hand covered in your blood. “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

As he helps you bathe and feeds you a potion to help heal some of your wounds, you let that haze settle in permanently in a part of your brain. As long as he makes you feel special, as long as he calls you sweetheart and pet and sha, you’ll take whatever pain he throws at you.

[elvisabutler]

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fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x female reader word count: 2100 you didn't see any other word count. warnings: cockwarming! p in v sex ( unprotected ). public play. mildly excessive baby talk. use of buntyn and nungen and princess as nicknames. mild embarrassment kink? author’s note: welcome to day 11 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, public play with big daddy elvis presley x reader. sorry this took a minute, i've been incredibly exhausted lately and so it's made finishing things a bit of an adventure. quick notes for this fic, this is a sort of au, in that i placed it in a mythical place where elvis doesn't die in 77 and is free of his vegas residency in the 70s. so maybe call it a nebulous 78 to 80? reader is implied to have been with him for years and you can read it as having an age difference but it's in my head as not having one. basically this is secretly a reader version of quiet on the set's future and i'm not sorry for it. beyond that if y'all have left me a comment on any of my fics or anything i'm going to get back to them. when i tell you i've been exhausted it's been a lot. without further ado, i hope y'all like this. also pick if you want austin elvis or real elvis the end.

There's something funny about how Elvis would prefer the two of you to be private. There is something truly and genuinely hilarious to you about the fact that he preferred the two of you to be private. His argument has always been that the happiest he ever is in his life is during those private moments with the people he loves. You always argue that he can't show you off like you know he wants to if you're being private and yet he'll flash that little twinkle in his eye and ignore your protests. So much of his life isn't private but the love he has for you— the love between the two of you is supposed to be private. An oasis for him to relax in as much as he does in Hawai‘i.

Despite all of this you know so very well how much he cares for you and how much he loves you. And if you were being entirely honest, the privacy makes the times he does want to show you off all the more special. Indeed it makes the times he does feel like delightful surprises.

Maybe that's why you had agreed to come play poker with him and the boys. It's been a long time since you've enjoyed that sort of thing and you've missed it. Truthfully it's been a while since Elvis has even been in Vegas, memories of how he almost was stuck in a revolving door of engagements here cluttering his mind and giving him a nightmare or two. So having him enjoying time with friends and you seems like a perfect recipe for a night. Of course, you should know better by now, know how Elvis always has something up his sleeve. A playful little trick he can play with that glint in his eye.

"Where's my chair, Mr. Presley?" You ask, not bothering with his nickname or his first name. There always was something fun about how he acted a bit like an admonished schoolboy when you called him Mr. Presley. "Can't very well play poker if I don't have a chair."

Elvis looks at you and gives you that sly smile you know so very well by now as he pats his lap, thigh jiggling just a tad as he does. There's that glint in his eyes that spells trouble of the best and worst kind. "Ya got a chair right here, Princess. Nice 'n plush too."

You'd think after all these years and after seeing his body through so many changes that you wouldn't be affected by the jiggle of his thigh and the open v of his legs. Yet, you're a woman who knows what she wants and you're the woman he put a ring on all those years ago. Most of the things he does get you more hot under the collar than they have any right to. This is one of those things. You feel your pussy clench around nothing and despite yourself you rub your thighs together even as you're standing.

"Are we playing as a team, then? Us against the boys?" The questions roll off your lips with an ease and familiarity only you manage when it comes to him. "Otherwise I think you'd be able to cheat."

As you speak, you've started to walk closer to him and finally find yourself at arm's length. Elvis wastes no time in grabbing your arm and pulling you flush against his lap, his thighs cushioning your behind and his cock stirring ever so slightly under his stomach. A gasp leaves your lips unexpectedly.

His arm wraps around your waist, making sure you don't move too much while he talks. "My wife accusin' me of cheatin' at cards. I could take ya thinkin' I'd step out on ya but I would never cheat at poker."

The soft rumble of a laugh courses through your body and has you following suit as you shift in his lap. "I let you step out and you let me as a present. But I know you're a sore loser who can't focus when I'm here."

You turn your head just slightly, watching as Elvis's eyes practically dance with mirth. He's mercurial as all get out when he wants to be but he can take some good-natured teasing when it comes from you. It's why you've worked well all these years.

"Now honey, my yittle nungen, I know you're still smartin' from that game ya lost against me 'bout a week ago but that ain't no reason to be tellin' lies about my sportsmanship."

A defense is on the tip of your tongue when you feel Elvis's warm hand against your thigh, slipping under your dress that you decided to wear today. That warmth does away with the words in such a quick fashion that you find yourself biting your lip to keep from sighing. "Elvis."

You say his name in a feather soft whisper as his friends start to trickle into the room. You've been in a situation like this before, when you were younger and somehow just as randy as you were now but Elvis hadn't done something like this in ages. He hadn't even thought to tease you like this in ages.

As if he isn't paying attention, he merely hums at your whisper of his name and uses his arm to maneuver your crotch against his cock, the flowing fabric of your dress hiding his actions from prying eyes. You don't know when or how he managed to free his cock from the confines of his pants and yet he has. That hand that innocently is burning against your thigh has crept up to your panties and with the ease of someone who knows your body like the back of their hand, he moves them just enough to the side to slide inside of you.

"Goddamn. Didn't expect ya to be so wet. Was hopin' but— Lord almighty, ya gonna stain my pants if ya move." Ironically you choose just that moment to move, attempting to get off of him for a moment before his grip on your waist stops you. "Nungen, you be a good girl for yer Buntyn and stay put. Can't have 'em seein' Lil Elvis, now can we?"

You feel the heat of mild embarrassment and excitement flush through your body as a shiver racks it. A shake of your head is the only answer you can manage for a moment. "You want me to sit like this for the whole game, baby?"

Elvis nuzzles his lips against your neck, his eyes taking in his friends pulling out their seats and sitting down, none the wiser to what was happening in his lap. They wave at you and you, ever the courteous host wave back and even smile, saying hello as Elvis mumbles words into your neck. He doesn't need to greet everyone, not while he's buried inside of you, his cock leaking precum like he's ready to fuck you on the table instead of just letting you sit on his cock. Besides, they know better than to disturb him when the two of you are wrapped up in one another.

The chair isn't close enough to the table and you move to drag it a little closer, or drag both you and Elvis a little closer only to have what feels like the world's loudest squelch come from between your thighs. No one looks at the pair of you as if they heard it but to Elvis and you it might as well have been a shout. You let out a shaky breath as you shift to try and make yourself comfortable. Elvis's legs open up just a bit more to make sure you're where you need to be, even as he thrusts just a tad. "Gotta stay still. Gonna, if ya move— I might just take ya on this table, damn the game."

You can't help but swallow at the idea, your mouth filling with saliva at the mere idea of being flipped thrown onto the table, pussy exposed to people you and him call friends. It's primal and practically voyeuristic and the sort of thing both you and Elvis aren't incredibly fond of with your relationship and yet. Yet it fills you with such arousal you feel it actually dampening his pants as the game starts.

Elvis isn't the worst of poker players but in combination with you, he's nigh unstoppable. Of course, maybe that's because everyone else's eyes are on you, wondering why you haven't moved to the empty chair next to Elvis. Jerry— who's there on a surprise visit is closest to the two of you and raises an eyebrow as he looks at his cards and then at you. You clench around Elvis's cock in a bit of worry.

"Is it a little warm in here?" A simple question to everyone but from the way he's staring both of you down it's not meant to be one. Both you and Elvis open your mouth before you kiss Elvis to stop whatever one liner is about to leave his lips.

"With how cold he keeps it in here? The only reason I don't need a jacket is because of his body heat," you practically titter out a laugh, the fear of being caught heightening your arousal even further. You feel your clit throbbing as everyone laughs at your joke.

Jerry rolls his eyes and shakes his head looking down at your lap. Still, the game is going nicely, with Elvis winning more hands than not and you trying to grab at a free hand to get some form of relief. After what feels like an eternity Elvis finally has his hand move between your legs, his calloused fingers brushing up against your aching little clit.

"Haven't teased ya like this in years, have I, Princess?" Elvis murmurs against your ear, feeling your vagina clench around him. "Haven't shown everyone how good ya are for me for a long time, have I? Haven't made 'em realize why I couldn't forget 'bout ya."

Your answer is a hum caused by you biting your lip to keep the cry that threatens to escape your lips at the pressure of his fingers against you. It's not enough for Elvis though, he knows you can control yourself better than he ever can. "Darlin' use ya words."

"It's been too long," you choke out the words, one of your hands moving to grip his meaty thigh and the other to grip at the table. You can feel your walls fluttering around Elvis, feel your body tensing up as it chasing something you know he won't give you in public. The face you make when he pulls an orgasm from you is one that's strictly between the two of you. Yet you're so wound up that you fear you'll be leaning over the table for support as soon as he says the word. In an attempt to alleviate something, anything you try and bounce only to have him nip at your ear.

"Ask me nicely, Nungen. Ask me nicely. Give 'em their game and their show. Remind 'em I caught ya jus' the same as ya caught me." His voice is more of a grunt as he slides a set of chips into the pot wordlessly. "Show 'em what I get in bed every night. What 'm wakin' up to every night 'less ya let me stray. Show 'em what I see after I've eaten my dessert.

Despite the way you're biting your lips so hard they're practically bleeding a noise that sounds like a scream forces its way out of your lungs and mouth as you clench around Elvis. You feel a gush that you only identify with times you've been played with so much by Elvis that you make a mess of every sheet you have. His pants are ruined but they'd be anyway from how you feel a warm rush of his cum follow yours. Through the grace of God himself you don't fall onto the table, instead stabilizing yourself using Elvis's thigh and somehow his lap in general. Your breath takes a few minutes to even out, even as everyone watches you and Elvis panting as if you've run a marathon. There's a knowing look that crosses everyone's face but everyone is too scared to speak until finally you smile and smooth out your dress as if you plan on standing up.

"This is why you're losing boys, you can't pay attention the game."

You make no effort to get off of Elvis's lap.

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7 @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @arabellalightning505, @doll-elvis guarantee i'm missing someone. i tried the end. also i clearly added this originally. also you want to be added just ask me. i keep forgetting people or losing people in these and just it's a mess.

[storiesforallfandoms]

look at me ~ bo burnham

word count: 2323

request?: yes!

“so you already know that inside: the outtakes has gotten so many people back into their bo thing. me included. sooooo i was thinking, he’s a big guy, ya know👀 so my lil brain was doin some thinkin (not at all while horny) and it came up with this: bo fucking you in front of a mirror!! he’s holding you up, fucking you from behind, saying things like ‘look at how much of a pretty little whore you are for my cock’. just, please please please do your thing and make this something great🥹”

description: after a long day of filming his special, he finds himself pent up and wanting to release his aggressive sexual energy, so he decides to take his girlfriend in the first place he finds her: in the bathroom in front of the mirror

pairing: bo burnham x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist (one, two, three)

Bo had a lot of feelings surrounding the filming of his quarantine special. At first he was upset over having to cancel his plans of returning to live performances, but then the idea of filming, editing, directing, lighting, etc., his own special seemed exciting. And getting back into writing comedy felt almost therapeutic. The longer quarantine went on, though, the more his mental health struggled. He was enjoying creating, but he hated that this was how he had to create. And he hated how much he struggled to make everything perfect.

But more than anything, he was unbearably horny. To a point where he was writing extremely horny bits into the special.

It was his own doing really. Bo would spend every day - from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep - working on the special. Most nights, that was late enough that his girlfriend, (Y/N), would be fast asleep. Other nights, he felt too mentally exhausted to try and initiate sex.

He felt guilty for the quality time he was losing with her by working all day, but (Y/N) was incredibly supportive. She would check on him every day to make sure he was doing okay, occasionally bringing him food so he would eat. She’d get him to take little break every now and then before going back to long hours of working on the special. Bo felt extremely grateful to have her in his life. But man, did he ever miss being intimate with her.

He was sat in this guest house one evening, editing his most recent bit, which was a song about sexting. His mind was on (Y/N) as his own voice played through the speakers. He thought about how badly he wanted to hold her, feel her body against his, her warm walls around him. His horniness was definitely trickling into his work and it was something he needed to fix soon or else he felt like he might explode.

Bo stood and looked out the window that faced towards his house. He could see a light on in the room that belonged to him and (Y/N), signaling that she was still awake. He quickly rushed out of his guest house, leaving the unedited song running.

(Y/N) was in the ensuite bathroom getting ready for bed. She had peaked out to the guest house to check on Bo. The lights were off besides a dull blue light that she assumed was Bo editing another bit. She had sighed to herself before going to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. As proud as she was of Bo for working on this special all on his own, she really did miss getting to spend time with him. Their bed felt too empty without him.

She was leaned over the sink, washing her face, when she suddenly felt two arms wrap around her. She let out a yelp and stood up quickly to see Bo’s towering figure behind her in the mirror. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, lightly kissing the area, causing her heart to flutter for a different reason.

“Hey,” she said. “You finished up early tonight.”

“I can’t standing being away from you anymore,” he responded. “It’s getting too hard to not have you in my arms.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s hard,” she teased.

Bo chuckled and grinded his hard, clothed dick against her. “You got me there.”

He continued to kiss her neck as he pressed himself against her. She lulled her head to the side, giving him more access to her neck. She closed her eyes and sighed. His hands moved from around her waist, one going upwards to cup one of her breasts and the other moving down between her legs. Her breath hitched as he teased the waistband of her pajama pants.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hot breath fanning over her ear in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. She nodded in response. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, please Bo.”

Bo grinned and nibbled on her ear as his hand dipped under her waistband. He ran a finger through her folds, teasing her clit with a feather-light touch.

“You’re already so wet,” he whispered. “Desperate for me to you, baby?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) whimpered. “I’ve missed your touch so much.”

“I’ve missed touching you. You don’t understand how much I’ve missed having you. I think about being inside of you practically every waking moment, and when I’m sleeping too.”

She moaned as he finally applied pressure to her clit. He rubbed slow circles into the bundle of nerves as he continued to kiss over her neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin, leaving red marks in his wake that he really hoped would turn into hickies. There was something so hot to him about marking (Y/N) in a way that other people would see and know she was his. He slipped his hand under her shirt to cup and knead at her breasts, one at a time, making her nipples pop out underneath his fingers.

(Y/N) was a moaning mess; putty in Bo’s hands. He was essentially holding her up at that point as she was leaning back against him, her legs wobbling to a point where she wasn’t sure she could stay up much longer.

“Are you close already?” Bo asked. “I can feel you trembling.”

“I-I’m s-so close,” she said.

“Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me while you cum.”

She pried her eyes open to look into the mirror. Bo’s eyes were staring back at her, dark with lust. It was hard to keep them open as her orgasm washed over her. Her legs just about gave out from under her as she cried out. Bo held her, smirking to himself as she trembled in his arms. He whispered praises into her ear as she came down from her high.

“I need you,” he whispered. “Right here, baby, please.”

“The bed is just a few steps away,” she teased.

“I can’t wait. I’m a slight breeze away from cumming in my pants.”

She giggled and turned her head to kiss him. She reached back to run her hands through his long hair. At first, she wasn’t a fan of the idea of Bo growing out his hair and facial hair, but now, with his beard leaving a tickling sensation in its wake and his long hair giving her something to hold on to, she suddenly loved it.

Bo broke away from the kiss to shove (Y/N) down over the bathroom counter. He pulled her pants and underwear down around her ankles, helping her to step out of them and kicking them off to the side. He let his own pants fall to the floor as well, his hard dick springing free from his pants. He took it in one hand and ran it through (Y/N)’s drenched folds, collecting her slick to use as his own lube. (Y/N) bit down on her lip as she whimpered, but couldn’t contain her moans once Bo pushed the head of his dick against her entrance. He easily slid his cock into her, slowly moving inwards until he was buried at the hilt inside of her. He dropped his head against her back, groaning at the sensation. It was a feeling he had been longing for, and now that he had it he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to last.

He slowly pulled himself out halfway before slowly thrusting back into her again. The head of his dick so easily nudged her g-spot that it made her already shaky legs even more wobbly every time he thrust inwards. She held on to the counter, digging her nails into it with such a grip that she thought she was going to break the counter.

Bo kissed over (Y/N)’s neck and what he could reach of her face again. “Can I start fucking you, princess?”

She nodded, unable to speak. Bo took that as enough of an answer for him this time and started thrusting into her at a quicker speed. He held on to her hips as he slammed into her, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. (Y/N)’s mind went blank, the only thing she could think of being Bo, Bo, Bo! She cried out his name, a sound more beautiful than any song Bo had ever heard.

“I might not last long,” he told her. “Do you think you can give me one more before I shoot this hot load inside you, baby?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes.”

It became a chant, like that was the only word she knew.

Bo smiled and put his hand around her throat, pulling her up so that she was flush against his chest. He continued thrusting at his brutal pace while reaching his other hand between her legs to rub her clit again.

“Look at how much of a pretty little whore you are for my cock,” he said. “God, you look so fucking hot, falling apart for me like this.”

Her eyes were rolling in the back of her head, which clearly was not what Bo wanted. He squeezed her throat slightly, just enough to block her airways and make her lightheaded.

“I said look at me,” he growled into her ear. She opened her eyes and looked into the mirror. He smiled at her. “Good girl. Look how fucking good you look, all cock drunk for me like this.”

Her eyes were hooded, threatening to close again, and her mouth was in a permanent “O” shape as her body bounced with every thrust. Bo looked like a man on a mission, watching her face intently as he rubbed ruthlessly at her clit and thrusted hard into her. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, a sight which just drove her further over the edge.

She didn’t have to tell him this time that she was close. Actually, she didn’t even have time to tell him. Her second orgasm hit her quickly and intensely. Her vision clouded for a moment and her entire body felt heavy. Bo wrapped an arm around her lower stomach, keeping her up for his last few thrusts before he also hit his own climax. He buried his head in her neck again, muffled groans tumbling from his lips as he gave a few more shallow thrusts.

They were both panting and sticky with sweat once they finally started coming down from their highs. Bo was reluctant to pull out, but he could feel himself becoming soft and slipping from between her legs. (Y/N) gasped as she felt the hot trail of cum running down her legs.

��Let me clean you up so you can finally lay down,” Bo said.

He reached past her to grab the face cloth she had been using early and ran warm water over it again. Turned her so she was facing him and knelt down in front of her to wipe her legs and between them. He planted a kiss on both of her inner thighs, causing her to twitch a little from overstimulation. When he stood again, he discarded the cloth onto the floor and took (Y/N) into his arms. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to bed.

He laid her down first before crawling into bed next to her. He took her into his arms, reveling in the feeling of her warm body against his. It had been so long since they had been able to fall asleep together. He rarely tried to cuddle her when he came into bed after she had fallen asleep in fear that he would wake her.

“Are you done working for the night then?” (Y/N) asked, her voice soft and sheepish.

“Definitely,” he decided. “This takes so much more precipitant than working on that stupid special.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid. I think it’s going to be really good.”

Bo chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “You haven’t even seen any of it.”

“I saw that one that was a parody of Drake’s music.”

“Eh, I’m thinking of cutting that one. I don’t even like it all that much.”

“Don’t do that! It’s my favorite one!”

He squeezed her slightly and kissed her again. “Okay, no promises, but I’ll try my best to put it in.”

“Thank you.”

They laid in silence for a while. It was quite comforting. Bo never wanted to leave the bed. He just wanted to hold (Y/N) and lay here in the dark and silence.

“I miss this,” (Y/N) whispered into the silence.

Bo sighed. “Me too. I promise I’ll try not to work too late so that we can have these moments more often. And I promise I’ll try to finish the special soon so that I’m not working on it at all anymore.”

“You don’t have to finish it soon if you don’t feel it’s ready, but I would prefer it if you were here in bed with me when I fell asleep at night. It’s not the same to fall asleep in a lonely bed all by myself.”

“I promise. Now get some sleep. I can tell you’re fighting off the unconsciousness.”

(Y/N) shook her head and smiled to herself. Of course he was right, she felt exhausted now after their bathroom activities. Being curled in his warm embrace didn’t help that matter either. She settled herself next to him and closed her eyes, letting the sleep take hold of her. Bo wasn’t too far behind, placing one last kiss on the top of her head before closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep.

[alexsoenomel]

Zippo Lighter (Dean Winchester x Reader fluffy smut)

Request: Hi 😊 would you do a Dean Winchester imagine where youre secretly having a crush on each other but not admitting it. Then one time Sam is out and you're alone at the motel, so it happens you accidentally walk in the bathroom while Dean takes a shower. You get all flustered but Dean takes the chance to grab you and kiss you and you end up in bed making soft love that night. In the morning Sam finds you cuddling and is just happy you finally got together

Summary: You were born with a very special and powerful gift. This is the story of how you met the Winchesters and fell for the older one. 

Pyrokinesis  /ˌpaɪroʊkɪˈniːsɪs/ —The ability to set objects or people on fire or to supernaturally project fire from one's own being through the concentration of psychic power.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: mentions of rape, abuse and death, AGE GAP (DEAN IS 35 AND THE READER IS 20), sweet and vanilla sex (reader is a virgin)

Word count: 7,505 (OOPS! I got carried away...)

Note: I LIVE FOR MUTURAL PINING OKAY! I put my own little twist to it and the only thing I left out from the request was when Sam finds them together....I kinda wanted a funny ending. Request by @tieddown-withbattleshipchains​

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO MY QUEEN FOR BEING THE BEST AND HELPING ME GROW AS A WRITER! LOVE YA GIRL!  @ambergoddess444ALSO CHECK OUT HER BLOG!!  SHE IS AN AMAZING WRITER HERSELF AND IS CURRENTLY WORKING ON AN AMAZING SERIES CALLED LAWFUL BALANCE!!!! 

It was said that being different was, is and will, most of the time, be a bad thing. Why? Probably because people usually didn't understand why someone was different. Sure, there are good human beings in this world, but most of the time, when you hear something filled with hatred it tends to stay with you longer than the good things. That's why you kept things quiet.

You didn't really have good friends and your family died in a fire...a fire you started when you were just a little girl in diapers, crying yourself to sleep. One moment you were crying in your crib for mommy to pick you up and feed you, and the next, everything was on fire....except you. You still didn’t know what exactly happened. That day you became an orphan, depending on others and your home was an orphanage near the house you once lived in. You weren’t happy there whatsoever. You had no friends, the food was awful and the women who were supposed to keep you safe didn’t care and treated you like garbage. No one liked you, no one wanted you…so you decided to run.

The night before your 18th birthday you packed a bag and finally, when everyone went to sleep, at around 3am, you left and never came back. When they finally realized you were gone, they were furious. Of course they tried to look for you, but failed. You were far gone from your city and everything you knew. It was time to start over.

That was two years ago.

Now, at the age of 20, you were content and living your life instead of just surviving. You worked as a janitor in a local high school in Lebanon, Kansas. It wasn’t much but you had your own little place, some money to survive and had a somewhat normal life. You thought you had finally run away from your past, and as far as your outstanding ability went, you decided to shut it down. You didn’t think about it and just for a second it seemed like you had finally moved on. You were even thinking about going to college and finally doing something you loved. Being a janitor wasn’t something you wanted to do for the rest of your life. 

Everything seemed fine, you managed to make some friends at that high school (more like people you were friendly with); some of them were students rushing desperately to graduate and go to college, some of them were even teachers, and for the first time you felt accepted, which was ironic considering you worked in the most judgmental place on Earth.

Who knew everything was about to change one night? You sure didn’t. You were clueless.

At around 1am on a Friday night you were awakened by the sound of the glass shattering. You got up and went to the kitchen only to see a shadow of a man.

“Who the hell are you?” You asked. You weren’t scared, you were angry and that wasn’t good for either one of you.

“Hey there.” The man spoke. His voice sent cold shivers down your spine, and not the good kind. It was the kind that made you sick to your stomach.

“Don’t move.” He said, pulling out a gun. “You’re going to be a very good girl for me tonight.”

You still weren’t terrified. The man had the face of a true monster and you still weren’t scared. He told you he was going to rape you and rob you, and you still didn’t flinch. Instead you were raging with anger. Your jaw was painfully clenched as your hands formed two fists. Slowly you approached him, step by step…

“Don’t fucking move.” He ordered but you didn’t listen.

“You told me to be good, right?” You asked innocently while the muzzle of the gun was on your chest. Slowly you put your palm on it. “I will be good I promise.”

The smell of melted metal filled the room, along with the smoke and…light?

A small beam of light came directly from your palm, intriguing the man to become fixated on it. You, on the other hand, didn’t notice. A few seconds later, the gun muzzle was shut, and the gun became useless.

“What the fuck did you do?” The man asked, as panic started to set in.

You weren’t feeling right. You knew he couldn’t hurt you now but you were still angry. He broke into your home, with the intent to assault you and might try again if you don’t do something. The anger was too much…

“Oh nothing…” You said calmly and pressed your thumb on his chest imagining the fire burning on that exact spot.

The man was confused until he looked down and saw his sweater on fire. He started to panic and tried to find the nearest object to put the fire out. It was useless; he was a dead man from the moment he broke into your apartment.

You stepped back from him and slowly moved your hand up in the air. The fire spread all over him now and he was screaming. That scream of pure agony woke you up. You quickly realized what you had done and it was time to run. No time to get your stuff, you just grabbed your wallet and left. Soon,the whole ground floor, where your apartment was, was on fire…

You didn’t know where to run or where to hide. You didn’t have a car and you wanted to leave town as soon as possible. What happened? What have I done?

Those were the questions you couldn’t get out of your head while running God knows where.You didn’t know where your legs were taking you, but you couldn’t stop running.  It was dark and it felt like every soul was asleep except you. The night seemed so endless and hollow.

Why can’t I just be normal? I want to be normal.

It was probably 7am and you were still on the move. You unknowingly passed the highway and entered the woods you had no knowledge existed in the first place. Eventually you noticed the sun was about to rise and you were exhausted.

Still in shock from previous events, you felt like screaming. Tears were coming down your cheeks and your stomach made the loudest noise letting you know you were hungry. Realizing you were lost, you decided to sit down and rest for a bit. You let your mind slowly drift to sleep as you listened to the sounds surrounding you; birds chirping, wind blowing, branches swinging and…someone running?

You immediately got up, feeling anxious yet again. In your mind it could be a serial killer or a dangerous animal.

“HELLO?”

Nothing.

“HELLO?”

Nothing yet again.

You slowly started to panic, feeling like you could burst at any minute and setting everything on fire again scared the living shit out of you.

“Hey.” Someone said behind you.

You turned around, and faster than lightning, from your hand a small ball of fire flew and almost hit the guy who was standing behind you. Luckily, he was fast enough to throw himself on the ground and the fire hit a tree, missing him by a few inches.

“What the hell?” You mumbled and looked at your hand. This was new. You have never done something like this. Imagining where you wanted fire to burn was the only way you could create it.

Sometimes you would lose control (like last night) but you never thought fire could leave your body just like it did now. It was like you were a living, breathing lighter.

“I’m so sorry.” You said. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t tell anyone what you saw. Fuck.” By this point you were having a full blown panic attack in the middle of the woods with a stranger. What a perfect scenario, you thought.

“Hey, first of all I won’t.” The stranger got up and cleaned the dirt off his shorts. He was tall, very tall, with long-ish hair and a pleasant face. By the looks of his clothes he was jogging. Who in their right state of mind jogs in the middle of the woods at 7 o’clock in the morning? Clearly this guy. “Second, how did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You said wiping tears off your cheek. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Okay. This is going to sound crazy but I live in a bunker near these woods with my brother, we deal with this kind of stuff all the time. You’re clearly stressed out and tired, do you want to come with me? We can sort everything out.”

“What? So you have seen stuff like this?” You asked, genuinely surprised by his answer.

“This? No…but I have seen a lot of things people only dream about.”

“You sound like a character from a TV show…or a mental patient.” You said, still questioning whether he was telling the truth.

“Yeah. People usually tend to think I’m crazy.” He smiled.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Think about it this way, you can kill me if I try anything.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

He seemed genuine and you felt like you could trust him. He was right; you could kill him if you wanted to. Your powers were growing and you could feel it. You didn’t want it, but it was out of your control.

On your way to “the bunker”, you explained to him what happened: the stranger in your home, destroying his gun and killing him…he seemed to believe your every word.  His name was Sam Winchester and he wasn’t lying. He did in fact live with his brother in these woods. It was some sort of a reinforced underground shelter, bunker of some sort;   it screamed men cave but it was cozy and felt like an actual home.

“Hey Sam.”  Someone emerged from the kitchen. A man in a long, gray robe with morning bed hair and coffee in his right hand. “Who’s this?”

“This is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is my brother Dean.“ He looked at him and just nodded.”I will explain later. Now do you want to take a shower while I talk to my brother?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” You said.

Sam gave you a towel, a clean shirt and showed you where the guest room was, along with the bathroom. You were still a little anxious and on the edge after everything that had happened the previous night, but strangely enough, you knew everything would be okay in the end. You could trust Sam.

“I’m hungry and I’m not gonna ask anything until I eat my breakfast.” Dean said calmly, looking at his plate of pancakes like he was looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.

“I’m screwed, aren’t I? Sam smiled.

“Oh yeah.”

After 10 minutes of Dean stuffing his face with pancakes and Sam looking at his laptop as usual, you were finally done with the shower and the older brother was ready to ask some questions.

“Okay first of all, why did you let a stranger use my shower?” Dean asked.

���It’s a guest bathroom, Dean.”

“Still…What’s her deal?”

“I ran into her while jogging…she’s…” He didn’t know how to explain it to him because he wasn’t quite sure what he witnessed in the first place.

“What?” Dean was growing impatient, you could hear it in his deep and sharp voice.

“She can create fire.” He finally spat it out. “I found her in the woods scared and alone and she threw a ball of fire at me.”

“And you brought her here?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“I scared her. The fire hit the tree.”

Dean wasn’t pleased with his brother and the decision to bring a complete stranger to their home, but of course, Sam already knew that and still decided to help you. He knew what it was like to feel completely alone, so he wanted to help.

“Still she could have killed you Sam.” Dean yelled.

“But I didn’t mean to.” You said standing behind them with wet hair and face almost red after a hot shower. The shirt Sam gave you was just above your knees but you were still wearing your dirty pajama bottoms.  “I panicked and I’m so sorry Sam.”

“I believe you. Now, let's figure this out.”

You nodded and sat next to Dean while Sam was still searching for something on his laptop. “There it is.” He mumbled and showed you the article. Damn, those journalists were fast. It was about the dead guy in your burnt down apartment. Luckily no one else got hurt or died. You then showed Dean the article.

“You did this?” He asked. His face was a little tense. He was contemplating if he could trust you or not.

“Yeah. Some guy broke in and threatened to rape me. I got mad.”

“Rape you?” He said after checking the screen once more. The guy you killed was a convicted sex offender.

“Yes. He had a gun.” You added.

“Well, it’s safe to say he got what he deserved. “ Dean said.

“Yeah but my life is ruined.” You said looking at your hands. “I could never live a normal life.”

“What do you mean? Where are your parents?” Sam asked.

You couldn’t even look at him and you sure weren’t about to cry. You told them about your parents, the fire, the orphanage and the abuse you endured and how life has been nothing but running and hiding for you. You have been just surviving for the majority of your life. It became exhausting, but once you finally started living, it all seemed too good to be true. Now you knew, it was. You could never have a normal life.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Your voice was trembling as you struggled not to completely fall apart. “I just want to be normal.”  

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were so angry at yourself it made your heart literally hurt. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack or maybe it was just breaking knowing you lost one thing you wanted the most – normalcy. You excused yourself and went to the guest room where you were staying. As soon as you shut the door you started to cry collapsing onto the floor. You suddenly heard Sam’s voice calling your name.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m a mess, better not. Give me a minute!”

“Okay but know one thing. It’s not your fault you were born like this. It doesn’t matter what you are nor what abilities you have, it only matters what you do. It’s your choice. You were a baby when it happened, (Y/N).”

Sam’s words hit you like a damn truck. He was right, you knew he was, but you couldn’t shake off the guilt you felt. You decided to open the door. You wiped your tears and let him in.

“You sure know your way with words, Sam.” You said, forcing a smile on your face.

“That’s because I’ve been there.” He confessed.

“You said you and your brother deal with all kinds of strange stuff, what exactly do you mean? Are there more people like me?”

He told you he will tell you everything if you stop crying and go back to the library.

“Okay.”

When you got back to the library, Sam proceeded to tell you stories that you would only read in books or see in movies. He told you he and Dean were hunters, but not the ones you thought. They hunted creatures… supernatural beings.

Stories about actual ghosts, demons and even angels followed. Dean even told you God himself existed…and that Lucifer was a tantrum making man-child which made you chuckle. When you asked them about humans with abilities he told you there were people with telekinesis, but your case was unknown to them.

“Well then…” Disappointment and confusion was all you felt in that moment.  “This sucks.”

“Want a drink?” Dean asked.

“Yes, please.” You said as a thought followed. I’m not old enough to drink.

Dean went and got you the strongest whiskey he could find. When you took a sip, the burning sensation went straight through your throat. It was strong alright and you have never tasted alcohol before. Strangely enough, it tasted good. It made you clench your eyes shut, but it was really good.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“Do you think I’m a monster?” You then asked him. Dean was taken aback for a second before he finally answered.

“Nah, you don’t want to kill people, do you?”

“No.”

“You don’t feed off people?”

“No.”

“Then you’re good, don’t worry. Besides, I think it’s pretty awesome what you can do.”

You have never heard someone tell you this; then again no one has ever known what you can do. His words rang in your mind as your gaze went to your now half empty glass, wondering how you drank the amount you did.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re like a walking, talking Zippo lighter.” Dean’s voice was naturally deep and husky; hearing him call you a walking,talking Zippo lighter sent light shivers all over your body. His lips formed a pout, he seemed to really like his little analogy.

Looking at your right hand, scanning every inch of it, you couldn’t get his words off your mind; a walking, talking Zippo lighter. Something in your mind happened that caused the tip of your index finger to make a small flame, indeed like a lighter. You smiled in shock; this was the first time you actually used your ability, without feeling angry. Rotating your hand you imagined the flame getting bigger, and indeed it became bigger.

“Like this?” You asked.

“Wow.” Dean said clearly impressed while Sam had a look of worry written all over his face.

“(Y/N)…” Sam finally spoke in a whisper. Brows furrowed; his face screamed concern. He was afraid you might slip and lose control, like you did with him. You took that as a sign to stop, so you brought your fingers into a fist and the flame was gone.

“Sorry.” You then mumbled.

“You’re indeed a Zippo lighter.” Dean said and lifted his glass. “Let’s drink to that!”

“Cheers!” You said lifting yours and chugged the rest of the whiskey.  “What am I going to do though?”

One glass of whiskey wasn’t enough for you to forget your whole situation. You had nowhere to go, only a little money in your pocket that will probably last you a month if you skip dinner every night.

“Tell you what, why don’t you stay with us for a while?” Sam said. “This library is filled with books about the supernatural, there must be something about your ability, we just have to find it.”

“Really?” You asked, looking at Dean for approval.

“We don’t usually do this, heck we don’t do this ever, but if Sam trusts you I trust you. But if you do anything stupid we will have a problem. Got it?” Dean said.

“DEAN!” Sam yelled, annoyed because in his eyes, he was basically threatening a child. You were 20, but still apparently a child in his eyes.

“THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!” You got up from your chair and went straight for a hug.

“Oh, okay then…” Dean said as you wrapped your hands around his neck from behind as he was still sitting and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Dean was definitely surprised by your actions and couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. Then you went and hugged Sam. You felt so small due to his height. His body was firm and he smelled like a winter mountain’s air, fresh.  

For the first time in your life you felt safe. These guys just met you and they were willing to take you under their wing and help you find answers to questions that followed you for as long as you have been on this Earth. You couldn’t be more thankful for that.

*********

First few weeks living in the bunker with the brothers was a bit awkward and not for them, but for you. It still kind of was after almost five months of being a part of their lives. Sam became like a brother to you, for the first time in your life you could just let go and tell someone what was bothering you and what was on your mind. He became your best friend.

But Dean on the other hand…

Dean was something else. You found yourself looking at him more and more, but in a way you didn’t understand. It came out of nowhere. The man was gorgeous, no doubt about that, but he also liked rock music, had a weakness for pecan pie and overall was a pretty funny guy with a heart of gold. Of course you couldn’t tell Sam about it, it would make things even more awkward and you definitely couldn’t tell Dean, so you decided to not think about it. Suffer in silence and be dramatic…

You had a pretty good life with them. At first Dean didn’t let you go on hunts with them because he thought you would get hurt, but you took care of that. When a nest of vampires came to your town you made sure to show Dean what you can do. You took down the whole nest with one flame.

“Damn (Y/N)!” He said when he realized the whole nest was dead. It made you blush like a schoolgirl.

Your ability just kept getting stronger. Sam was helping you control it and so far it was working, deep breaths, meditation and surprisingly yoga helped but as far as knowing the origin of your powers… that still remained a mystery. Being an impulsive ass you sometimes had moments when you couldn’t control yourself and lit things on fire. It was a little saddening knowing you might never find an answer where your powers came from but you learned to accept it. So far it was working for you. You were in a good place.

One Monday morning you were eating breakfast with the boys while Sam was on his laptop with a piece of toast in his mouth searching for a case.

“Sam, will you ever eat breakfast without your beloved laptop?” You asked him.

“Nope.” He mumbled.

You looked over at Dean who was looking back at you smiling. He was looking extra good today which made you nervous. Your little crush was still alive and well, tormenting you day and night. You smiled back at him before you heard Sam saying he found a case. Perfect timing, you didn’t want to look for too long and be obvious.

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Los Angeles. Two people dead and one is missing. Eyes burnt.”

“City of angels and dead angels. What an irony.” You said.

“Or demons.” Dean added.

“So are we going?” You then asked.

You were going and you were going right after breakfast. You packed your bags and went within 20 minutes. The ride was going to be long so you packed some snacks, water and beer as well. This was going to be the first LONG drive with the brothers. Almost 24 hours… Sitting in the back seat you couldn’t help but watch Dean as he started the engine and pushed the gas pedal of his Baby. He really loved that car, blasting Led Zeppelin through the speakers, jamming to their music and genuinely being happy.

After a while you put your jacket against the window using it as a pillow and fell asleep. You didn’t get much sleep that night so might as well use the time to nap.

You woke up about two hours later still on the road.

“Good morning.” You heard Dean say.

“Hi (Y/N).” Sam said.

“Hi, are we there yet?” You murmured, still a little sleepy.

They both laughed telling you, you have been asleep for only two hours.

“Damn it.”

The ride was long and exhausting. You listened to Dean’s playlist which you didn’t mind considering you loved classic rock and slept while the older brother was driving. You made a few stops here and there to stretch your legs and have a breath of fresh air before finally arriving in Los Angeles the next day at around 7am. You found a cheap motel and decided to eat and rest for a bit before going to work. The room was relatively small with three beds, a semi clean bathroom and a dining table.  

“Dibs on the shower.” You said.

“I’m next.” Sam said, looking at his brother.

“Ugh fine.” You heard Dean as you closed the door.

After a steamy hot shower you felt like you have just been reborn. Because it was hot as hell (pun intended), you put on a pair of shorts, one of Dean’s old Led Zeppelin shirts you “borrowed” and your worn out boots. When you opened the door Dean’s gaze went straight to you. He was obvious but you didn’t see it. You were too tired and hungry to notice anything.

Dean was lost in you and he was quite confused by it. When he first saw you, he thought you were cute but then when you told him you were 20 he slapped himself mentally. He was 35 and it felt weird.

While he was drinking his beer and Sam was taking a shower, he watched you as you roamed around the room packing your stuff searching for God knows what in those damn shorts before you sat down across from him and opened your small bottle of vodka you bought at the gas station. You looked older than your actual age so buying alcohol was never a problem for you.

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

“Vodka.”

“You know you’re not old enough to drink?”

“I will be 21 in five months, leave me be.” You smiled and took a sip. Vodka was strong, burning your throat for a few seconds but it felt so good it woke you up instantly. Drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t smart at all and you knew that, but man you needed that little taste. You were a little nervous being alone with Dean.

You didn’t know but he couldn’t stop thinking how hot you were in those shorts and his shirt. “Why the fuck do I have a crush on a chick who's not old enough to drink?”

*****

The next day started at 6am. Dean woke you with a fresh cup of coffee under your nose.

“Good morning princess.”

His sarcastic tone made you roll your eyes before you even opened them. You got up, eyes still closed, hair all over your face, and took a sip of bitter black coffee. It was good enough to make you open your eyes, as you sat on the edge of the bed, processing your existence.

“Where’s Sam?” You said under your breath.

“Went to check out the bodies. Get dressed! We are going in ten minutes!”

“Without breakfast?” You asked knowing damn well Dean would never skip breakfast.

“With breakfast dumbass! We are meeting him at the diner two blocks away.”

“Good.” You simply said and went to the bathroom.

*****

The whole day was a bust. You checked out the bodies but couldn’t locate the source of the killings and with Cas (a badass angel whom you had a pleasure meeting once) not answering his angel phone, you were kinda stuck.

Later that day another body popped up, but no new leads followed. Annoyed, tired and sweaty in the suits you were wearing pretending to be the FBI, you decided to try again tomorrow. Sam decided to go for a walk and clear his head, while Dean was ready to hit the sack. You were hungry so you decided to grab a burger before going back to the motel.

After eating your Five guys you came back to the room, ready for a shower and some sweet dreams. Where's Dean?

Kicking your boots off, you noticed Dean’s suit on his bed and yet again wondered where he was. You took off the blazer and pants, feeling the warm air brush your skin and relief since it was so damn hot. Wrapping a towel around your naked body you opened the bathroom door only to see Dean standing surrounded by steam with a towel around his hips. You have seen him shirtless before, covered in cuts and blood, but shirtless nonetheless and every time you would tell yourself to not stare for too long.

“Holy shit, I’m sorry.” You said and closed the door immediately. You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you tried to shake the same feeling away. Dean was good at reading people and you had to be careful with your silly little crush. You didn’t want to make things awkward.

Dean opened the door, still wearing only a towel.

“You done?” You refused to look at him. Your eyes were looking at the bathroom door right behind him.

“Yeah.” He said. He was admiring the sight before him. Your locks of hair gently touching your shoulders, white towel wrapped around you, you looked tired and beautiful. I will lose my damn mind.

You just nodded and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Deep breaths didn't help, your heartbeat was in your throat, while your body felt unfamiliar and tense.

Meanwhile Dean got dressed and went to bed trying desperately to not think about the view he saw minutes ago. He failed.

Great, now I have a boner.

In the bathroom you took your sweet time to really enjoy the shower. You liked steaming hot showers, your philosophy was: if the skin wasn’t red afterwards, the shower wasn't good enough. You've always loved being hot, summer was your favorite holiday, hot coffee was your favorite drink; you sometimes wondered if your ability shaped your whole personality…BUT feeling hot and bothered because of a man was another story. It wasn't any man, it was Dean Winchester. You shook the sweet sinful thoughts of you and him doing the horizontal tango and focused on washing the shampoo from your hair.

After the shower you brushed your teeth and got into an oversized Mötley Crüe shirt you bought a few years ago in a random music store in Kansas. It covered your ass and was perfect for sleeping. Plus it reminded you of the things that once were and bittersweet memories of your almost normal life.

I wonder how his lips taste. God, I really want to bite his perfect little nose.

You shook your head.

No….skin care!

After finishing your skin care, which only consisted of one serum, you stepped out of the bathroom and saw Dean on his phone, pretending to not scan you as you went under the covers.

God, I love that shirt on her.

I should really do something before Sam gets back.

"(Y/N)?" You heard him as you were trying to get comfortable in a shitty motel bed.

"Yeah?"

She's too young for me.

She doesn't like me.

It's weird.

"Do you still wish to be normal?"

Stupid fucking question.

"Not really, why?"

Dean swallowed nervously, not knowing where to take this conversation.

You were surprised by his question. Why is he asking me this?

"Just wondering, I know how messed up you were when we met."

"You and Sam really helped me accept that part of myself. It's not something I would change." You were lying on your side, facing Dean. Something seemed off about him and you noticed. It felt like secrets were lingering in the air and he refused to say anything. The air was tense. You were nervous.

Maybe I'll get lucky tonight.

You're not in a porn movie (Y/N)! Snap out of it! He probably thinks I'm too young for him?

Should I do something though?

What is he hiding from me?

"Plus, I really like being a walking, talking Zippo lighter." You finally added, reminding him of his little comparison.

He chuckled. "You know, I have one and it's not as badass as you."

You felt your cheeks burning up. You were trying to determine if it was his comment or warm air in the room.

"Yeah well, I'm a collector's item. Unique, I guess." You said and sat up on the edge of the bed. You looked at your left hand before it was engulfed in fire. Dean was watching you closely, hypnotized by the flame. You wanted to try something you have been practicing for a while.

"Open your Zippo, Dean." You told him. He went to the sofa and got his lighter from his jacket. He was only in his boxers but you were too focused on the flame in your hand to fully process.

He opened the silver Zippo he had had for years and before he could say anything you snapped your fingers and a small flame started flying in the air before it settled on the wick.

"Holy shit that's awesome!"  

"Yeah? Been practicing control for a bit."

"Well good job Zippie! This is fucking amazing!" For a second he sounded like an excited child in an amusement park.

You chuckled. Zippie. You liked when he gave you nicknames and occasional terms of endearment like sweetheart or darling. It made your little heart dance.

"I really like that." You said and formed a fist making the whole flame disappear from your hand and his lighter.

"What?" He asked. His voice was deep but something changed. You couldn't put a finger on it but your gut was telling you something good was lingering just around the corner. His face was a dead giveaway. You knew Dean, not long, but long enough to recognise the look he had whenever he wanted to devour a woman alive. You’ve seen it like ten times in the past few months. He was a flirty type.  

His face was relaxed, smoldering eyes burning right through you, occasionally licking his perfect plum lips.

He likes me.

"I like the nickname Zippie." You finally said as you snapped back to reality.

He didn't say anything. He just put his lighter back in the pocket of his leather jacket and sat on your bed.

"Can I tell you something, Zippie?"

"Yeah, you can." You said, your voice struggling not to completely disappear.

"When I say I think you're badass I really mean that. You're really something else…"

Why can't I just tell her?

You smiled. You knew he thought your ability was awesome but to hear him say it was something else. It was from the heart.

"I believe you."

You sat next to him and put your index finger in front of him. A small yellow flame appeared.

"Make a wish!" You said. He wasn't sure why you did that but he knew exactly what to wish for.

I wish you would kiss me back.

Dean closed his eyes and blew the candle that was your finger.

After he did it, you did exactly the same.

I wish you would kiss me.

"What did you wish for?" You said, not noticing how close your faces were.

"This!" And with that Dean closed the gap between you with a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste the hint of mint right away from his toothpaste while your hand went to cup his cheek before you decided to sit on his lap. Your forehead was resting on his when you broke the kiss.

"I wished the same thing." You confessed.

His hand went in your hair as he smiled and kissed you again, this time letting you know he wanted more. He wanted it all.

You moaned into the kiss and you placed your hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer. His kisses were addictive, sweet and with a taste of something you have never experienced before – lust. You’ve kissed a few, you’ve made out with the few, but never actually felt wanted enough to sleep with someone. Until now.

You broke the kiss, panting like you just ran a marathon.

“Sam’s going to kill you, y’know?” You said as his lips drifted to your neck, leaving a small trail of kisses all over.

“Why do you think that?” He was, of course, clueless.

“It’s not like you’re 15 years older than me Dean.” You said sarcastically. “Plus he sees me as his younger sister.”

“Ew gross!” He answered between kisses. “I mean…I thought I’m too old for you but–”

“But nothing.” You cut him off. “It’s not like I’m 16, give me a break! Plus 35 is a perfect age for a man.”

Dean lifted his head up to look at you, his green eyes were sparkling and his lips were smiling. “You think so?”

“Yeah I know so! Sam showed me your old photos when you were in your early 20s. You are aging like fine wine.”

It was true. You and Sam were rummaging through old boxes on a random, rarely free, Sunday when you found old photos of the brothers throughout the years. Dean in his early 20s was an innocent, breathtaking boy with a stunning smile on his face. He would protect you and make sure you were safe, whilst Dean in his early 30s would kill for you and make sure you were far from danger. Dean in his early 30s was tired and wise, body and soul filled with scars, but beauty intact.

Dean’s smile became a smirk. He nodded, accepting the compliment before he kissed you again. His hands went under your shirt, his fingers tracing all over your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. In response you started to slowly move your hips and grind against him, feeling how hard he already was. It then hit you. You didn’t tell him.

“Dean?” You said breaking the kiss…again.

“Huh?”

“I have a thing I forgot to tell you.” You started. You felt nervous even though you didn’t know why. It wasn’t a big deal and you knew that, The only question was how to properly articulate it.

“Spill it!” He looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes, excited about what you would say next. Who knew he was like a puppy when he liked someone.

“You’re going to be my first.” You finally spilled it after a few seconds of silence.

He tilted his head slightly. “You mean your first DILF?”

You sighed and gave him a bitch face. Too much time with Sam was rubbing off on you. “You’re not a father as far as I know, Dean! No, like the first guy I’m gonna sleep with!”

His lips formed a small O when you told him.

“You mean…?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you sure you want to though?” He then asked, even though he already knew the answer. You trusted him. He trusted you.

“Yeah. Now shut up and kiss me, will ya?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked.

This kiss seemed different, needy and filled with lust and adoration. It felt like he was holding everything back until now. It felt like you finally got to taste your favorite wine, so sweet and addictive. You couldn't get enough of it.

You leaned in, urging him to follow you as you fell into the mattress. While you were kissing, you couldn't help but slowly move your hips, grinding against him, feeling how hard he was. It was a brand new feeling. You liked the idea of him getting all hot and bothered because of you. He moaned into the kiss, growing impatient before he took your shirt off, exposing you completely. You thought you were going to be shy and hide your body from him, but something about Dean made you feel comfortable and free.

"You're so beautiful." He said in pure adoration.

"You're making me blush." You said and meant it. His words were meaningful and true. No other person has ever made you believe the things they said. That was why you didn't even bother to go all the way with people you have been seeing. You could read right through them and see their true intentions.

Your hands were roaming freely all over his body. He was all muscles and covered in scars, each one telling a story of his life as a hunter.

He took his time on you, making sure you were comfortable and relaxed for him. His right hand went down to your naked body, feeling every bump and inch of your skin. Your lips parted as you let out a sigh. When he reached the most sensitive spot between your legs his thumb started to rub you in a circular motion while his lips never left your neck. .

“You like that?” He asked between kisses.

The only thing that escaped from your lips was a light: “Aha.”

“Good.”

He took your panties off exposing you completely under him. Soon his boxers followed. When you saw how big he actually was you swallowed nervously wondering how much it would hurt. You knew first times always hurt and it usually sucked, but so far you were enjoying every minute of it. He knew which buttons to push and which places to kiss.

He positioned himself between your legs and slowly entered you. You were holding on to his back, fingers deep in his skin as you gasped in discomfort. It hurt but it wasn’t as bad as you expected.

“Holy shit!” You said under your breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…just….move!”

He nodded and started to move slowly. It still hurt but after every slow thrust, it hurt a little bit less and less, until the pleasure took over the pain almost completely. He was taking it slow while kissing every inch of your skin he could get his lips on. You were breathing into each other while his thrusts became faster and stronger. You could feel yourself getting warmer and something in the lower part of your stomach. You weren’t sure what it was but you liked it.

“You’re hot!” He noticed, feeling your body temperature rise after every thrust.

“I feel weird!” You whispered into his ear before placing a kiss on his neck. “I think I’m close!”

It felt like a rollercoaster but instead of going up and down; you only went up until you couldn’t take anymore and just crashed. But the thing was your body temperature kept rising and rising until you reached your breaking point. You were both panting, gasping for air, your hands were leaving light scratches on Dean’s back and yet he didn’t even flinch.  

“FUCK!” You moaned, feeling the orgasm pierce through you. Your lips were parted, back slightly arched under Dean, but your eyes changed color – two yellow sparks appeared as you were experiencing your first big O.

“Dean!” His name didn’t leave your lips, just like a cigarette of a smoker.

Dean didn’t stop until you came down from the euphoric high. He watched your eyes go back to your normal color, following your body temperature.

When he stopped moving and collapsed on you, you kissed him on the lips and did what you’ve always wanted to do – you bit his nose.

“Why did you do that?” He smiled in confusion.

“You have a perfect nose and for some reason I’ve always wanted to bite it.” You explained.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He moved next to you, covered in sweat, wondering what he saw a few moments ago.

“(Y/N), did you feel your temperature rise before you came?”

“Yeah. It was weird and yet it felt amazing.”

“Yeah your eyes also changed color.” He added, thinking how perfect your nickname was. Zippie the human lighter.

“Changed color?”

“Yeah they were yellow, like you had sparks in your eyes.”

“Awesome!” You said and kissed his shoulder. “Sam is still going to kill you though!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah!”

That night you slept in separate beds since Sam was sharing the room with you. He came back three hours later and by that time you were both fast asleep.

The next morning during breakfast in the nearby diner, between stuffing your face with eggs and bacon, you decided to be a little bit of a dick.

“Sam, I found out something new about myself.”

Sam took a sip of his black coffee. “Really? What?”

Dean was ignoring the whole conversation, eating his pancakes.

“My body temperature rises and my eyes sparkle whenever I have an orgasm!”

Dean choked on his pancakes, while Sam stayed silent in shock before looking at Dean giving him his iconic bitch face.  

“Really, Dean?”

“Zippie, you’re a dick!” He told you.

“Your dick now since you like me that much, handsome!” You winked at him.

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge— Ch. 8

AN: This is a preview for the next part, where we will find out more about the readers past and get to explore the existing elation ship between the boys. it got posted early so the next chapter could take a while or come out like tomorrow, idk

“Hold still,” Price said, holding the packs above your hands. You nodded, shifting nervously on your knees. “Only gonna hurt for a second.” He lied every time, but the brief attempt at comfort made you feel a bit better. 

The second the medication touched the burns you cringed, tensing immensely. You heard him try to tell you to relax, but his voice was drowned out by a wave of pain. Every time you two did this procedure it only seemed to get worse, but you were slightly thankful for it. 

Coming back home had been rough. Nik only stayed for a few hours, making sure that you were situated and properly taken care of before he returned to his desolate corner in russia (they always preached how lucky you were to make your way to him, instead of heading in your enemies direction), and you had been thrown into testing immediately after that. 

It felt like something out of a marvel movie, they assessed your injuries and just how well you were able to operate, thanks to Nik, you were still able to participate in field work as a long distance asset, you gave them the information you stole from the russians, and they gave you medicine for the many burns you had on your body. 

Which was why you found yourself in this position. 

You could still use your hands, thankfully. They were good for a manner of things, fighting, eating, and the like. But you couldn’t do things like write or hold a brush, which was the exact task required to apply the medicine that the doctors gave. So Price had to help you. 

At first it was awkward, sitting there half naked on his desk while he applied a cream that burned worse than the one Nikolai gave you all over your body, but you two slowly got used to it, even breaking the tense silence with small bursts of conversation. Usually about something that had happened earlier that day. Never about the indecent that put you in this position. 

There was one burn that required special attention, seeing as it hadn’t healed correctly. On the back of your neck, just in the juncture connecting your shoulders, and the only place you couldn’t reach. That one specifically hurt the worst, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving to touch it once the cream was applied. 

Price’s solution to this was to have you sit between his legs while it was applied. 

It did help, of course. Any time you tried to shift your neck or flinch away from the pain, he was there with a steadying hand on your head and a slight “Don’t wana do that,” and you were still again. 

Some nights were better than others, but you were always distinctly aware of the position it left you in. 

Just as you were always aware of the way he would go half-hard every time you two did that. 

“There you go, all done.” You sat back, looking up at him with wide eyes. You didn’t miss the way he had to swallow a bit harder, or shift his hips ever so slightly. “Wasn’t too bad.”

“You try having second degree burns and come back with that same bull shit.” He just laughed and shook his head. 

“Ya know… if you want to talk about what happened—“

“John, it’s okay.” Truth be told, it wasn’t okay. It was the farthest thing from okay, but you weren’t going to bring it up anytime soon. “What happened happened.”

He just grunted. “ ‘Boys still haven’t given up on that challenge.” You just laughed, wincing at the sting of the burns. 

“Honestly, you guys find even one photo and i’ll sing your praises.” You could feel his eyes on you as you got dressed, and sure enough when you turned back around he was staring at you with a different kind of intensity. 

“It took you being gone for two months for us to realize we hardly know anything about you. Why is that?”

You blinked in surprise, stepping towards the door. “I have my reasons.” The hall was empty, and you sort of wished John had people outside eavesdropping on your conversation. 

“Find those photos and you’ll figure it out.”

me when i wanna write sex but they aren’t like that yet

My masterlist<3333

[dw19791967]

That Type of Girl Part 1

Pairing: Dean x reader (Eventual), Sam x reader (Platonic)

Warnings: language, unrequited love, slight angst, some fluff

This is the first fic I have ever written, all mistakes are my own. Please be gentle on me!

_____________________

I had never been the type of girl that men would look at twice. I have always been on the heavy side of the scale. I have a big gut, small ass, and ok sized boobs. After struggling with my confidence for a better part of my life, when I hit my 20’s I stopped caring about what others thought of me. But I would still wear clothes a size or two too big. But I felt confident (for the most part). I didn’t give a rats ass what most people thought of me, which definitely helped when it came to hunting. 

My life changed forever when I met the Winchesters. Sam was like the big brother I never had. Dean…well, that was a different story. Everything in me knew the moment I met him, that he was something special. The way he could make me laugh, make me smile, make me feel appreciated. No one had ever made me feel the things he did. But I knew he would never see me as more than a friend, and after some time I was ok with that. I knew a man like him would never even consider being with a girl like me. 

“What ya thinking about Y/N?” said Sam. We were currently sitting in a roadside bar after we finished our most recent hunt. Of course Dean was busy flirting with some gorgeous blonde, leaving Sam and I to our own devices.

“Just thinking about what life would be like if we weren’t hunters.” I lied of course. I was thinking about why couldn’t I be the type of girl Dean would turn to for more than friendship. Something I thought about pretty frequently.

“Do you really want that type of life ?” Sam stated with a curious look on his face. 

“Hell no, I’m not made for normal. Just always like to think about where I would be ya know? Would I be married, have 2.5 kids, and a full time job or would I be a crazy cat lady.” I giggled.

“Well considering you're allergic to cats you definitely would not be a crazy cat lady.” Sam was laughing.

“You’re right Sammy, guess there goes that day dream.” I said. I couldn’t stop watching Dean. I really needed to find something else to occupy my time.

“You know I see how you look at him.” Sam said.

“I don’t know what you mean Sammy.” I replied.

“Y/N you should tell him how you feel, you never know he may feel the same way.” Sam looked at me with an optimistic grin.

“Yeah right Sam, I’m going to the restroom then I’m heading out. You boys can stay and have some much deserved fun.” I got up to head towards the restroom, if only Sam knew how deep I was in.

______

The following day after returning to the bunker the night before, I got up around 6:00 to make the boys breakfast. It was something I did every now and then, even though I made a pretty shitty cook. I rolled out of bed and put some shorts on. I had an old AC/DC shirt on (I didn’t bother wearing a bra since the shirt was baggy), threw my hair up in a messy bun and was ready to get to work. I made my way to the kitchen as quietly as I could. Evidently I tend to stomp when I walk in the bunker halls (according to Sam), so it is something I am trying to work on. I got the eggs and bacon out. Scrambled would have to be it for today because I don’t have the patience to try anything else. Sam made his way into the kitchen as I was finishing up with the bacon.

“Well good morning sunshine!” Sam sang.

“Damn Sammy can you keep it down somewhat, you know how I feel about being happy first thing in the morning.” I covered my ears.

“Oh yes so sorry grumpy pants” Sam laughed.

“I’m pretty sure you are like the only person I have ever seen to be so excited at 6:30 in the morning.” I finished putting some eggs on a plate for him.

“Well why are you up so early anyway? You made us breakfast?” Sam asked.

“Well yes you big giant, I did. I felt like doing something nice even if I am a grumpy pants.” I sat his plate down in front of him.

“Well I appreciate it and I’m sure Dean will too. Where is Dean?” Sam took a bite of his eggs.

“Pretty sure he is still sleeping, I’ll wake him up on my way to shower. How does it taste?” I asked.

“It is actually pretty good, way to go Y/N you have finally learned how to make eggs!” Sam was laughing. I enjoyed the teasing banter we had with one another, it made me happy that we didn’t always have to take things so seriously.

“Haha very funny, looks like now I will have to cook more often.” I stated as I walked out of the kitchen.

Heading down the hall I stopped at Dean’s room. I opened his door slightly, he was sprawled out over his bed snoring loudly. Blondie must have tired him out last night. I usually don’t like waking him up because he has such a hard time sleeping. Especially lately but I knew he would be pissed if he missed out on bacon. I made my way over to him.

“Dean” I whispered.

“Dean I made breakfast” I patted his shoulder.

He rolled over and opened his eyes. Looking at me in a way that almost made me blush.

“Hey sweetheart, what time is it?” he asked.

“7:00” I stated.

“Damn I actually slept in some, that was amazing.”

I’m sure it was, I stated to myself. Damn my jealousy.

“Well I just wanted to let you know there is eggs and bacon, Sam said that I actually learned how to make eggs so guess that means they are good this time. I laughed. “ I’m gonna take a quick shower then I will meet you back out there” I said.

“You had me at bacon” he got up and stretched. 

“Well good morning sleeping beauty” stated Sam.

“God it smells amazing in here” Dean said with a grin.

Dean loaded up a plate with tons of bacon and a few scoops of eggs.

“Damn this is awesome” Dean moaned.

“Would you like me to give you some alone time with that?” Sam laughed.

“Sammy, she seriously knows how to make my damn morning. This bacon might be the best I have ever eaten.”

“Well she has been up since 6 working on it so I’m glad you are enjoying it.” Sam was reading something on his laptop now.

“What would we do without her?” Dean wondered aloud.

“What would we do without who?” I stated as I made my way back into the kitchen. I had taken a quick shower and changed into jeans and a flannel. Baggy of course. I never wore tight fitting shirts. My hair was still a little wet but I wanted to make sure the boys were taken care of before I moved on with my routine.

“You sweetheart, you are seriously too good to us.” Dean stated, staring at me. 

I blushed, “Well I would do anything to make your guys day a little better.” Sam looked at me with a knowing look, please dear lord do not let him say anything.

Sam continued reading something on his laptop without saying a word. 

“Well I’m gonna head to the library to check out this book I need, do you guys need anything?” asked Sam.

“I’m good, thank you though Sammy.” I stated.

“Unless you are stopping at the store, in that case we need pie.” Dean said while stuffing his face with more bacon.

“Of course Dean, I will make sure to get your precious pie.” Sam said while laughing.

With Sam gone, I struggled to find something to say to Dean but the silence was killing me. 

“What time did you guys end up coming home last night?” I asked. I really didn’t want to know but yet I needed to.

“Uh not too long after you, it was kinda a bust.” stated Dean.

“What happened to Blondie?” I asked without even thinking.

Dean looked up at me, “She was talking my ear off about her ex. I told her if she couldn’t stop thinking about him then she probably needed to talk it out with him.”

Good I thought to myself, I knew he deserved a good time but I am glad he struck out. I really need to stop thinking like this.

“Well I am sure you will have better luck next time” I said with a smile. It took everything in me to muster that up.

“Nah next time we need to work on finding someone for you.” Dean stated.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well I know it's been awhile since you have found a guy for you, so I figured I could help you look.” Dean said with a shrug.

Did he seriously think I wanted to find someone? I really was not the love them and leave them type. I tended to get too attached. So I just took care of things on my own. Plus it was hard to find someone to spend the night with when you are desperately in love with someone else.

“I’m really not interested Dean. I would rather just drink and make a fool of myself.” I laughed.

“Come on Y/N, I’m sure you could use a night of romance or whatever you want to call it” Dean looked at me.

Anytime I had even considered taking a guy home they would make comments about my body. Which usually ended with my fist bleeding and the guy laying on the bar floor.

“Dean, do you seriously not remember the last time I looked for a guy, he ended up calling me a fat bitch and I knocked his lights out.” I picked at my nails. I couldn’t look at his face right now.

“Yes I remember, that was just one shitty guy. I have faith we can find a good one.” Dean got up to clear his plate.

The one guy I want doesn’t want me so I really don’t want to try to find another one. I will just end up with my feelings hurt and my confidence wounded. It’s not worth it to me.

“I appreciate the offer truly, but I don’t want a night of romance. I just want to spend a night with my two best friends. That’s it. Can we please drop it?” I got up to start working on the dishes.

“If that is what you want Y/N.” Dean looked at me softly. “I will get them sweetheart, the least I can do since you cooked.” Dean started working on the dishes.

"Thanks" I said. "I'm gonna go finish fixing my hair." I made my way out of the kitchen as fast as I could. I wish he could understand how I felt, but this is one area in which Dean and I are very different.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Can I request part 2 of your Of Broken Glass and Red Spandex (I absolutely love it 😍) where Reader called Wade to treat him a meal together as thanks for helping please?

Broken Glass and Red Spandex: Part 2

The city had a strange way of making its millions of inhabitants feel small and insignificant, but you had always found comfort in its sprawling chaos. After the harrowing experience with the mugger, the city seemed both familiar and alien, like a place you knew but had to learn to navigate all over again. And there was one thing—well, one person—that you couldn’t get out of your mind.

Wade.

Ever since that night, you'd been trying to find him. You didn't know much about him beyond his name and the fact that he wore a red suit and had a penchant for dark humor. But you wanted to see him again, to thank him properly for saving you. It wasn’t easy tracking down a man who seemed to thrive in the shadows, but you were determined.

After what felt like weeks of dead ends and frustration, you decided it was time to move on—literally. Your old apartment had too many bad memories now, so you found a new place in a different part of town, hoping for a fresh start. The apartment was nothing special, but it was cozy and, most importantly, yours. As you unpacked the last of your boxes, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever see Wade again. Maybe it was foolish, but a part of you still hoped.

A few days later, you were heading out of your apartment, balancing a grocery bag in one hand and fumbling with your keys in the other, when you heard a familiar voice.

“Need a hand, butterfingers?”

You turned around so quickly you nearly dropped the bag. Standing there, in all his sarcastic glory, was Wade Wilson—minus the red suit, but unmistakably him. Your heart skipped a beat as you took him in, the same scruffy face, the same glint in his eyes.

“Wade,” you breathed, more a statement than a question. Relief and something else—something warm and hopeful—washed over you.

He grinned, looking impossibly pleased with himself. “Miss me, did ya? Figured I’d pop by to see if the neighborhood’s gone to shit since you moved in. Turns out, it’s actually improved. Weird, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound full of relief. “You live here?”

He nodded, leaning casually against the wall. “Yeah, just next door, actually. Small world, right? Or maybe I’ve been stalking you. You’ll never know.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Well, since you’re here… I was actually planning to make dinner tonight. How about you come over? As a thank you, for, you know, saving my life.”

Wade’s expression softened, though he still maintained that air of playful nonchalance. “Dinner, huh? As long as it doesn’t involve any weird health food. I’m not much for quinoa or kale.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “No quinoa. Just good old-fashioned comfort food.”

Wade pretended to think it over, but you could see the excitement in his eyes. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll bring the cheap wine.”

That evening, you found yourself nervously adjusting the table settings for the third time. You didn’t know why you were so anxious—after all, it was just dinner. But something about Wade made your heart race in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. There was a connection there, something undeniable, and you weren’t sure what to make of it.

When the knock finally came, you took a deep breath before opening the door. Wade stood there, holding a bottle of wine with a cheap, gaudy label. He was out of his usual suit, dressed in a casual button-down and jeans, but there was still an air of unpredictability about him that made your pulse quicken.

“Hope you like red. It’s the only kind they had at the bodega down the street,” he said, holding out the bottle.

You smiled and took it from him, your fingers brushing against his for just a moment longer than necessary. “Red’s perfect.”

Dinner was a surprisingly easy affair. Wade was, as always, full of stories—half of which you suspected were exaggerated, if not completely made up. But it didn’t matter. He made you laugh, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a genuine sense of happiness.

As the evening went on, the conversation became quieter, more intimate. You talked about the mugging, about how much it had shaken you, and Wade listened without interrupting, his usual sarcasm taking a back seat. When you finished, he reached across the table, his hand covering yours.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Most people would’ve fallen apart after what you went through, but you’re still here. That counts for something.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing past the bravado and the jokes to the man beneath. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

Wade gave you a half-smile, squeezing your hand. “Nah, you would’ve found a way. But I’m glad I was there to help.”

The room was silent for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized what you wanted to do, what you needed to do.

Slowly, you stood up, moving around the table until you were standing in front of him. Wade looked up at you, something unreadable in his gaze. You hesitated for only a second before leaning down and pressing your lips to his.

The kiss was soft, tentative, and you could feel Wade’s surprise before he melted into it, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. It was as if the world stopped spinning, and for a few blissful moments, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Wade stared at you, his usual witty retort failing him for once. You smiled, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest.

“Thank you, Wade,” you whispered.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t quite name. “Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.”

And as you stood there, the world outside forgotten, you knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.

[estro-gem]

Jax x Ragatha: What lurks beneath the surface

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's Note:

It's done😭 Finally...

This is the longest Oasis fic I've written and I pray that my English was good enough to NOT have as many mistakes that would distract you from the story I am trying to tell. We'll hope for the best.

Thankfully, I finished it and I'm happy with it - as spicy as it turned out and all. I could finally showcase Jax and Ragatha by allowing them a chance to share another side to both of them - Especially Ragatha! It was so much fun to lean into her character (in the Oasis canon, at least).

Warnings: Suggestive themes and flirting Hypomania/manic episodes Animal instincts/ferocity

I hope you like this one. Please enjoy!

SUMMARY:

Ragatha gifts Jax a plush that she promised to make for him. He enjoys the comfort that it brought him as well as the sentiment behind the gesture, until Ragatha reveals that the dress of the plush can be removed for him to discover a secret she added for him to find. He is plagued by strange possibilities to his dolly’s reasoning behind the design choice. He struggles to muster the courage to remove the dress – or even see reason to do so, other than quenching the thirst of his curiosity.

It’s just a doll, isn’t it?

WHAT LURKS BENEATH THE SURFACE.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Sweetheart?”

Jax didn’t expect Ragatha to come knocking at his door. It had been a long day with a very tiring adventure from Caine. Everyone had already retired to their rooms after they’ve enjoyed a feast together. The bunny was one of the last members to leave and he had been decompressing in his room for no more than an hour, until he was – as he considered – rudely disturbed.

Seeing Ragatha, however, made him curious enough to be more forgiving. She wasn’t one to knock at such a late hour… unless she had something to hide and oh, Jax loved a good secret!

Especially ones he could exploit in the future.

So Jax rested his forearm at the level of his eyes to lean against the doorframe as his free hand pushed the door open wider than before. Instead of answering, Ragatha walked up to him, keeping her eye locked with his as she invaded his personal space. Just as Jax had a flicker of uncertainty that she was getting too close, the doll smoothly strode right passed him without even touching or brushing against him. She broke eye contact at the last second and entered his room, while he was struck frozen by surprise.

Cheeky little-

“You’ve got some nerve, Dollface.” He said, masking his flustered state with a smug grin and a raised eyebrow, “I don’t remember ever saying that you are welcome to come inside.”

He turned around to find his doll smiling as if she was the cat that stole the cream. He took a moment to just silently appreciate her showing him this different side to her, as it was a side that she reserved for very rare, specific and special occasions.

Confident, sassy and letting her actions do the talking.

Dangerously silent.

Delicious.

“Are we playing games, Darling?” Jax shut the door behind him, not once looking away from her smug grin that perfectly matched his, before slowly sauntering towards her, “We can play anything you like…”

Rather than to humor him and say something snarky for him to play of off, his dolly knelt and proceeded to grab at her dress skirt to bunch it up on her lap.

“Woah, WOAH, Sweets! Calm down!” Jax eyes went wide, dropping his façade completely at the sight of Ragatha intending to lift her skirts. With his character completely broken, his ears pulled back and he averted the gaze of his shrunken pupils as a very prominent blush bloomed onto his cheeks.

“Would you relax?” Ragatha chided with a bubbly laugh, “…and shame on you for having your mind in the gutter!”

Jax almost scoffed in disbelief, but didn’t dare to look her way, uncomfortably shifting on his feet, “Ya waltz in here, makin’ eyes at me! Next thing ya know, ya here on my floor and pullin’ up you dress! Whaddaya think, I’m gonna assume ya wanna play cards or somethin’? Geez, Raggs!”

His heart soared at the sound of Ragatha’s laughter intensifying as he rambled on. He had the sneaking suspicion that she really liked his dialect when he was riled up. He tried to put a damper on it whenever he could, but sometimes he just couldn’t stop himself – especially when he was caught off guard.

If it meant that he could have his doll laughing as much as she had, he didn’t mind it too much.

“Oh, Jax…” she sighed, followed by more chuckles as she laughed, “I hid something under my skirt. Don’t worry!”

“Yeah, I’d like ta think that we all hide somethin’ in our pants, Dolly.” Jax quipped without missing a beat.

“I tie a string of wool around my waist and then I tie that to a bag that dangles at my knees, Honey.” Ragatha dismissed with an airy laugh.

The doll fumbled with a large, brown paper bag she had to waddle down the hall. When she managed to untie the top, she opened the bag to reveal a box wrapped with a disheveled red bow. It was a wonder that she managed to walk so naturally with it knocking against her legs, but years of practice taught her well.

She noticed Jax tapping his foot impatiently, still not looking at her, making her smile to herself. It didn’t matter how much he tried to hide it; he was still a good man at heart.

It was a shame that he had to do the wrong things for the right reasons.

“I’m decent for show, Honey. I always was… just so you know.” She said while standing up to present the box. She remembered what he previously said and sought the opportunity to milk her teasing just a little longer, “What are you hiding in your pants, Jax?”

“Hey, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Jax mused suggestively as he peeked with a glance from the side when he was cleared by Ragatha to do so.

The doll gasped dramatically, “And here I thought you were a gentleman!”

“Ugh, please!” Jax approached his doll before resting a hand on his hip, “I’ll have ya know that ‘Chivalry’ is my middle name.”

“If that’s the case, we’re all doomed.”

The brief silence was eventually broken by the sounds of the couple barely containing their snorts, until they burst into fits of laughter. It was so hysterical, that Ragatha almost dropped the box, causing her to juggle and fumble with it in the air; eye wide until she caught it with a firm grip. Jax practically died at the sight, pointing and laughing with new vigor. The doll helplessly chose to laugh at her own clumsiness.

Finally, when the laughter died down, Jax looked at Ragatha and saw her face glowing the glee. In another life, he would have loved to make her laugh whenever possible. He would be her safe space that would never have to lay a hand on her, unless he wanted to see her smile, laugh, gasp or sigh in joy and pleasure.

But here, he was chained to the slavery of hurting everyone out of obligation.

Stop thinking about that!

“That’s a good look on you, Raggs.” Jax commented right after she chose to break eye contact to look down to the wrapped box she was still holding.

“You don’t look too shabby either.” She held out the box for him to take, but he just idly stood to look at it; hesitantly. He was a lot more expressive when they were alone.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

The doll just shook her head with a little huff, “You made me laugh.” She blushed, looking away, but fiddled with the ribbon wrapped around the box, “You make me laugh... and you never ask me for anything! I love that I could give you something you actually wanted for once.”

His dolly grew bold enough to look up to him, despite her little rosy blush. He focused on keeping his face neutral, despite feeling conflicted about accepting a genuine gift. Ragatha didn’t stop insisting for him to take it, “Please… just look at it? You can do whatever you want with it afterwards, but just take one look. Please?”

“Don’t beg, darlin’.” Jax suddenly said, as if a switch was flipped, as his aura shifted to take on a darker tone, “It’s unbecoming.”

Please beg for me to take you instead…

Silencing the confusing thoughts that clouded his mind, he stepped forward and held out his hands, only for Ragatha to step forward and lightly push the box against his chest. He took the sides of the present and met Ragatha’s eye. She was fixated on his gaze as she trailed her hand down her side on the box, before slowly turning around and walking to the door.

That doll would be the death of him.

“Where’d ya think you’re goin’, Sweetheart?” He asked coolly, making no move to trail behind her – even as she opened his door.

Just before closing the door behind her, she looked back one last time. The ragdoll sported that confident, cheeky grin again and Jax suddenly wanted nothing more than to make her melt.

“I’m giving you some privacy.” Ragatha gifted him one last sweet smile and closed the door as she left, not giving him a chance to answer, “Goodnight Honey.”

Silence.

Anticipation.

Curiosity.

Jax decided to sit on his bed before untying the ribbon. A small part of his mind giggled at the fact that Ragatha could walk with such a bulky object knocking against her knees. Another silent thought whispered into his mind, feeding his curiosity regarding all the things his doll managed to sneak around by hiding it beneath her skirt.

Her waters ran deeper than he thought – not that he was complaining.

Wasting no time, the bunny plucked the lid off the box, but froze on the spot at the sight of a familiar face that greeted him. The lid fell from his grasp.

His heart squeezed painfully in his chest.

About the length of his forearm, a little, redheaded ragdoll in a blue dress was staring up at him. Other than the fact that the little doll was plusher, it was the spitting image of Ragatha. It had the same red locks, the same blue dress with the darker patches and the same face of his doll – embroidered to capture to picture of her face exactly – save for the blue button stitched to represent her missing right eye, just as there was one in reality.

It was perfect.

His mind flashed back to an encounter he shared with Ragatha a few weeks ago. Them, sitting on the lone couch, with him just enjoying the sight of his dolly so focused on her very… flattering… project. How tempted he was to mess with her, but his attention was held captive by the precision, skill and progress she was making.

Maybe he was vexed by the doll’s sentiment to even think of making something that resembled him.

A monster.

The rabbit took the plush doll in his hands and admired it once again, before slowly drawing it to his chest and wrapping his arms around it in a soft embrace. It wasn’t his intention, but Ragatha’s scent invaded his senses, causing his hold on the doll to tighten.

It was not sentient or breathing, with skin or senses. It was lifeless and thoughtless, with no intention of ever reaching out to him. It just existed – made for the times he sought comfort whenever he wanted. It could provide a comfort he was cursed to loathe when receiving it from others who actually cared for him.

What a wonderful gift his precious little dolly had given him.

That night, he collapsed onto his bed, cradling the plush closely as he became intoxicated by his angel’s scent. He had no nightmares or worries that withheld him from sleep. He simply existed in the presence of something that his beloved had made for him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so loved.

He couldn’t remember the last time he overslept.

Jax overslept.

“Jax?” a worried voice cried out from the other side of his door, along with insistent banging that caused him to fly straight up. “Are you okay?! Jax?”

He stumbled to the door and fumbled to unlock it, as she wouldn’t be able to hear him from the inside. He didn’t have the time to pull the door open, as a great force crashed the door right into him and caused him to be launched back with a yelp. The pain to his face caused his vision to blur, but he could clearly see the shape of his ragdolly hunched over and panting in his doorway.

“Ow! Talk about a wake-up call.” Jax said as he was blinking to clear his vision.

“Jax…” her voice drew his attention in an instant. He didn’t like it one bit. She sounded terrified.

She sounded relieved.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” he cooed as he stood up and the sting subsided, “I’m right here.”

“Jax.” Ragatha said again, seemingly stuck on his name, “You…”

She stood frozen, blinking multiple times before she shook her head and perked up uncomfortably fast, “You’re late, silly!”

“Raggs…?” Jax spoke carefully and approached her, as if she was a startled animal, “Don’t do that with me.”

Her unsettling smile remained stuck on her face as she looked over his form for any obvious injuries, “Heh, sorry about bumping into you earlier! It’s not common that you sleep in! Why were you-”

Silence.

So intense, that not even an explosion would muffle it.

Her smile was dropped as her eyes suddenly widened. Jax, startled by the sharp continuous shifts in Ragatha’s expression, followed her line of sight to see what caused her sudden reaction. He followed it slowly, until he was met with the little ragdoll plush that was still miraculously clutched tightly in his hand. He stood there like a frightened toddler, holding his favourite toy, but he didn’t feel ashamed about it.

There wasn’t time that; his dolly needed help.

“I… had a great cuddle-buddy.” He started slowly, watching her reactions very closely as he stood closer, “I didn’t want our snuggle-session to end so soon, so I laid here for a little longer.”

He was jesting, but it was gentle and benign. The rabbit could still help her choose to drop her guard if he played his cards right. He just knew he could.

“You like her…” she said in a foreign monotone, “You slept with her…”

“Like a baby.” He chuckled briefly, before unveiling his true emotions by holding the doll up to look at it dearly, “She’s perfect.”

The rabbit allowed his eyes to flick back up to Ragatha, then repeating what he had said, hoping that his dolly would understand, “Perfect.”

Ragatha slowly treaded her way back to reality, helplessly succumbing to the little, somber smile that crept up the corners of her mouth, “I’m glad you like her.”

“Heh,” Jax genuinely huffed, “Only you would think that someone calling someone else ‘perfect’ only means that they kinda like them.”

Huh…

Ragatha meant to question him on what he said, but Kinger screaming about the practicality of duffle-bags distracted the couple beyond recovery.

Before leaving to join the others, Jax made a quick stop to his bed, to rest the plush against his pillow, “Can’t risk her getting ruined in an adventure. We still got plans for tonight!”

“Oh really?” Ragatha mused, though she seemed tamer than she was with her previous fake optimism.

“Oh yeah. No going back now!” Jax said, nudging the ragdoll with his elbow as they walked down the hall.

“I was going to ask if I was invited, but I wouldn’t want to keep you two from doing whatever it is that couples do when they are alone in bed.”

“Aw, there she is! Welcome back Raggs!” Jax laughed, causing the doll to chuckle along with him. He looked over to her with a little hint of seriousness, “But seriously though, we are keeping it clean, Dollface. I mean, it’s a doll.”

Ragatha stopped, alarming Jax to do the same, ready to pull back his statement in case he went too far with his jokes.

Ragatha beat him to it, “Wait, you didn’t take off the dress? Didn’t you notice that it could be removed?”

Jax didn’t know how to react to that.

On the one hand, she could be joking – in a way that he, in turn, would consider as ‘too far.’ On the other hand, she could be serious, opening an entirely different can of worms. Based on her shocked expression at the fact that he didn’t undress a plush, he could only believe that the latter was true.

It horrified him with its implications.

“Ragatha.” Jax said, not missing the way she twitched at the use of her full name, “Why would you expect me to undress a plush?”

Ragatha fumbled to answer, but her face lit up like a Christmas tree, “Don’t put it like that!”

“How else do you want me to put it?” Jax asked, bewildered, lowering his voice down to a hissed whisper, “Why would I need ta undress ya? Is it because ya think that’s what I want? Is that how little ya think of me?”

“Jax, stop.” Ragatha said sternly. He reluctantly obeyed for her to speak, “It’s nothing of the sort, it’s something else. I added a hidden… feature… with the hope that you’d find it on your own.”

“It still sounds weird, Raggs.”

“It’s not, I swear!” Ragatha exclaimed, “I thought you’d know that ragdolls often have their bodies be a different colour fabric; to represent the bodice of the dress, instead of making an entirely separate dress, like I did. I also thought that it would’ve been enough of a clue to look beneath the fabric since I showed you how I hide things beneath my skirt. There’s nothing funny about it!

Jax still looked skeptical, but seeing his dolly that upset, softened his heart a little more than he wanted to admit.

Ragatha pleaded one last time, hoping to have justified herself enough, “I just thought that it would be a special little secret for you to find.”

Jax sighed, but relented eventually, “Fine, but I’m not happy about this.”

“Just trust me on this!” Ragatha insisted gently, “So you’re going to look, right?”

“I’d rather you just tell me and be done with it.” Jax huff, folding his arms and turning away from her. He heatedly glared over his shoulder to flick his eye from her feet to her face, “You know I don’t only want you for those types of reasons, right?”

Ragatha wanted to protest her stance on being innocent with her intentions, but his words caused her heart to melt. She cleared her throat, choosing not to say anything to humor his last question, “If you want to know, you’ll just have to see for yourself, Honey. It’s already a shame that I ruined my plans for you to find it by your own accord.”

“Come on, Doll!” Jax whined, thankfully moving passed the other matter, “I’m dying here! I can’t wait until tonight – I don’t even know if I wanna do what needs to be done to even find out. I don’t care how innocent ya think it is, IT’S WEIRD!”

“Then suffer.” Ragatha shrugged as they finally joined the rest on the crew, leaving Jax perplexed.

That woman…

It appeared that it was going to be a long day for Jax.

It was a long day for Jax.

The curiosity was nipping at the edges of his mind throughout the day. The bunny hardly focused throughout the adventure – not even his disregard for Pomni could distract him. It didn’t help that Ragatha wasn’t making things easier for him, as she would knowingly smirk at him when he dared to glance at her. Occasionally, the doll would giggle to herself, only riling him up more.

What additionally tore Jax apart, was that he didn’t know how to feel about stripping the plush from its dignity by undressing it. It was a doll, sure, but it was a doll that looked like Ragatha, it felt perverted and indecent.

When the long day came to an end, Jax fought between sprinting to his room as fast as his legs could carry him, versus stalling to avoid having the plush taunt him with it’s secrets altogether. It became an odd mixture of the two, where Jax tried to cut any conversations short that stalled him from progressing down the hall, but taking the time to stop and talk to whomever was willing to keep him from reaching his room to soon.

His odd mannerisms caused suspicion to arise among the group, especially Gangle, who always seemed to catch on.

Those cursed observation skills…

 Finally, the rabbit entered his room and locked the door behind him. Just to be safe.

The doll was just laying there as it almost expectantly stared at him. It was mocking him; he just knew it! The bunny hated to admit that his mouth was suddenly feeling dry at the thought of even just touching it. He glared at it, silently cursing Ragatha for thinking that the whole situation was a good idea.

Because it wasn’t.

He took a breath and willed himself to march to his bedside, sit down and firmly hold the doll in his lap. It smiled with glee, and he scrunched up his nose while averting his gaze to gather his courage. It all felt wrong on so many levels! He really hated how curious he was to know what hidden gem his dolly had waiting for him. Yes, he was nervous, but…

He trusted Ragatha.

Jax was just going to be a man and push through his hesitation, he thought to himself. The doll felt like it was burning through his gloves, but he still preferred that above anyone else touching him. Jax looked down to his yellow gloves; and an idea slowly crept from the depths of his mind. With mild distaste, the rabbit flexed his fingers to summon his terrible claws, that pierced though the yellow fabric as a hot knife would cut into butter.

Jax’s ability to feel, was muddled through his claws, since they were not equipped with the sensory ability to perceive touch as well as his fingertips were. He could only feel the dull pressure sinking down onto his fingertips whenever he used them – willingly or unwillingly. He felt a little less guilty while implementing his idea as his very gently used the very points of the ebony tips to hold and maneuver the plush.

The bunny noticed a three little buttons on the back of the doll’s dress. He gently pinched at the blue dress’s fabric and lightly tugged at it, only confirming that the dress was able to be removed. He struggled to maneuver his claws in attempt to open the back of the dress without ripping the fabric, but he managed.

Agonizingly slow…

Finally, the buttons were loose. All that was left to do, was to pull the entire dress over the doll’s head. He still felt uncomfortable just… stripping the doll like a perverted freak, so he did the only other thing he could think of.

Pinch his eyes shut.

Blinded and with a heavy sigh, the rabbit struggled to fully remove the dress from the doll, while still being mindful of his sharp claws. It was a pain – the whole process became so frustrating that he just thought about giving up and saving the private adventure for another day.

But somehow, the plush was finally freed from her blue coverage and Jax just sat in silence, wondering for one last time whether it was the right decision to indulge in Ragatha’s twisted game.

Damn it…

It’s just a doll.

As curiosity won the dispute against shame, Jax hesitantly opened his eyes that were previously pinched shut. Slowly, as light broke passed his eyelids, the blurry vision of the mostly milky fabric that represented the doll’s skin, focused into a clear image of the doll’s bare torso as it’s little face patiently smiled up at him.

All thoughts left Jax’s mind as soon as he comprehended the sight the rested within his grasp. It stole the air from his lungs that grew still as he stopped breathing entirely. A wave of emotion washed over him, but he stood firm and frozen with the overwhelming shock that struck his mind – his soul – to a state of all-consuming numbness.

His hands started trembling, but the man remained silent.

On the chest of the ragdoll-plush, the pale fabric was harshly interrupted by the image of a small, purple heart in the very center. It was neatly threaded to the doll’s chest, in such a way that the stitch pattern of the thread wasn’t obvious to the eye. The only way that Jax could tell that the heart was indeed threaded to the doll and not just a part of the fabric’s print, was the very neat seam that revealed small purple stitches when the fabrics was pulled into the opposite directions.

Jax didn’t know much about needlework, but there was no doubt in his mind that the heart wasn’t just a patch that was stitched atop the pale torso. No. The purple heart was very much a part of the fabric that kept the stuffing from spilling out.

Without the heart, there would be a hole that would expose the plush’s inner content.

Without the purple heart, the stuffing would spill out from the doll, and it would be nothing but an empty, fabric shell.

The purple heart was a part of the doll.

When his vision became blurry, the bunny was suddenly taken aback by his uncontrolled breathing as well as the tears crawling down his cheeks. He hugged the undressed doll against his heart without a care in the world. All that mattered was him holding his dolly with a heart adorned with his colour. Falling to his knees, Jax mind was consumed by thoughts of Ragatha and her precious gift to him. The rabbit compulsively rubbed his neck and chin over the doll’s red locks, only stopping to nuzzle into the ragdoll’s chest.

A possessive blade struck into his cold, dead heart. Jax no longer had tears that spilled form his golden orbs. His dolly dried them, as she often did – because she was his. Only his.

His, as she always was and always will be.

And in kind, he was hers.

Only Ragatha could bring him to his knees like this. He’d kneel to only her, as if she was his queen. He knew, in that instance, that it would only be a matter of moments before she would kneel before him – to join him at his level as his equal.

Then, Jax would not rest until the entire universe was brought down beneath her. He’d destroy whatever it takes, he’d break whatever he saw fit, and he would crush and torture every soul that would ever dare to hurt her.

Because only he could hurt her – Jax would make sure of it.

No one else would do it right.

No one else would take care NOT to break her as he always made sure to do.

No one else would read her as he did.

No one else would care for her needs as he did.

No one else would do anything to her, because he would never allow them to.

Not only because he was the snake, but because he was HER MONSTER.

He was hers.

And at that moment, her monster craved to drown within her.

Jax held the plush back to admire it once again. It was hers, but it wasn’t her. He wanted her and he wanted her now.

NOW.

In a flash, Jax was moving.

He didn’t know how he made it through his locked door to mindlessly claw at Ragatha’s, like a dog, but he ended up doing just that. Jax was too far gone to even think about the keys he left in his door before sprinting down the hall. No words left his lips – only little desperate grunts escaped him as his claws sprouted fine wooden spirals from his dolly’s door. It was inhuman to say the least.

And that’s why Gangle lunged at him without a second thought.

 She happened to be in the hall to witness his descent into his animalistic nature. Shivers crawled up her ribbonoid form at the beastly sight of Jax’s blown pupils and ungraceful, jagged movements. He didn’t even acknowledge that she was there, so it became clear that Jax was experiencing one of his occasional manic episodes.

It didn’t happen all that often, but based on her experience, Gangle could tell that she would not be able to get through to him with mere words.

Her ribbons served her well as powerful restraints. Since she had the element of surprise on her side, Gangle was able to wrap herself swiftly and strategically around each of Jax’s wrists, as well as bind his powerful legs together, causing him to fall face first into the door, then onto the floor.

The rabbit, caught off guard, thrashed and screamed in a manner that no human ever could. He managed to slice one of her ribbons down the long length, only to have the 3 finer streaks of ribbon become their own independent tendrils that reenforced the grip Gangle had on Jax. It hurt, but there was very little that Jax could do to make Gangle stop.

It wasn’t the first time she had to restrain him, after all.

“What’s going on out there?!” rang Ragatha’s alarmed voice from the other side of the door as it creaked open by a mere slit for her voice to rush through.

“Stay put and lock the door.” Gangle ordered, her softer voice firm as a blade that sliced through any question to oppose her order. She constricted her grasp around Jax’s neck to manually muffle his senseless howls of protest and discomfort. Gangle also took note of how his pupils dilated impossibly wide at the sound of Ragatha’s voice. He fought with a greater vigor and tried to reach out to the door.

It, then, became clear to Gangle, that the bunny didn’t act out in anger, but in what appear to be a type of desire that he very rarely expressed.

“Gangle? What’s happening-?”

“Be quiet.” Gangle spat out as Jax only ceaselessly continued to struggle against her. His aggressive thrashing became desperate and distressed. The door shut after a few seconds of hesitance on Ragatha’s part. The doll knew her place.

There was nothing she could do now.

“You’ll scare her like this, Bunny.” The ribbonoid hissed into the wild rabbit’s ears, causing him to tense up and shiver. Despite Jax’s immeasurably greater tolerance for the ribbonoid’s touch, he still had his limits – limits that only Gangle had managed to push as far as he was willing to allow. Boundaries were thrown out the window a long time ago, for they both no longer regarded each other’s boundaries. They had no choice, as it was within their roles and owl and snake.

Boundaries were crossed too long ago for either of them to care.

“Mine.” Jax forced out as soon as Gangle remembered to loosen the grip she had enforced around his neck. He turned his face to look at the mask of the sentient ribbon, eyes filled with desperation, “Mine.”

“I know, Bunny. I know.” She almost cooed when she felt him burst into untamable trembling, clearly stumbling his way back to reality, “But there’s a better way to go about this. You need to control yourself.”

Jax could only blink a few times, trying to ground himself. He stopped to look down with a defeated sigh and leaned his head down to ungraciously plop his forehead against the forehead of the theatrical mask. She welcomed his gesture, by leaning back into him and closing her eyes.

They savoured the moment as the world grew quiet, sharing breaths to calm themselves.

Jax remained as he was as Gangle slowly opened her eyes again, not willing to risk being unaware for too long. Her dear friend looked worse for wear, but much better in comparison to a few minutes ago. If it wasn’t for a distant movement that caught the ribbon’s attention, the newfound peace would have led the pair to Gangle’s room in a gentler manner…

But the sight of a little jester who stood a while’s way across the hall, caused the girl to rip her ribbons from Jax - bristling up like a threatened raptor. The ribbons danced and scurried high above her head in an impressive display, causing sounds of fabric slithering and fluttering to pierce the silence. Pomni jolted at the sight of the previously meek and timid character being so intentionally disapproving towards her. It was so unsettling, that the jester took a step back.

Her movement jump-started a series of chaotic, spasmic events that could only be found in a horror movie.

In the blink of an eye, before Jax could turn his head to see what caught Gangle’s attention, the previously bristling ribbons sliced through the air to grab Jax where-ever they could grip; and rapidly dragged the purple character down the hall at inhuman speed. The only trace that Pomni managed to register for her to realize that she wasn’t hallucinating what she saw, was the blinking light reflecting on the ends of the ribbons the slithered through the remaining gap in Gangle’s door, right before it slammed shut.

The little fool blinked and recovered quickly, as she was forced to do since she found herself trapped.

The soft creak of Ragatha’s door caught her attention. The Ragdoll’s face hung lower than usual, causing the red locks to shield her face. The fool blamed the light reflecting the red, glowing hue of her hair onto her face, because there was no way that she would be bashful in the given circumstances.

Right?

Ragatha stepped outside and jumped at the sight of Pomni, then feverishly looked around the hall. She paused in confusion before she shook her head once to face the fool, who just opted to turn her face to the freshly carved scratch marks on the doll’s door. While Pomni’s face fell at the sight, Ragatha’s expression remained unbothered.

It was unnerving.

“Is this really what you consider Jax caring in his own special little ways?” the jester asked skeptically – almost rhetorically – as she recalled Ragatha’s words from a previous encounter.

“You wouldn’t understand.” The doll spoke in that cursed monotone that Pomni quickly learnt to hate, “We are all one minor inconvenience away from going insane. I told you that before. Besides, out of all of us, he’s literally the animal. The urges and instincts do things to you, you know…”

The silence that followed, stretched down the hall. The girls simply stood in front of the door and looked over the ugly trenches Jax had left in the wood. It wasn’t until much later that Pomni gently pierced through the stillness with a strangely steady quip of morbid curiosity.

“Didn’t you also say that Gangle and Zooble were romantically involved? She seemed very close to Jax just then-”

“Those two are intimately close, you saw correctly.” Ragatha interrupted, finally easing up her tone as a fond, little smile grew on her face, “Zooble and I are aware – we encourage it. They are very good for each other.”

Pomni almost got whiplash with how fast she swung her head to look to the doll, “Intimate? Do you mean- do they…? Are they-?”

“Intimate; nothing odd going on there, New Stuff! Friends.” The doll clarified with a chuckle, “Very good friends with a very strange, deep connection. There’s nothing more to tell – not that it’s really our business.”

“So. it wouldn’t bother Zooble that they are alone in Gangle’s room?”

Ragatha’s eyes lit up, “Oh! That’s where they are… And no, it doesn’t bother anyone when two of us wants some time alone with each other. Jax clearly needs a shoulder, I mean, just look at my door!”

Pomni sighed heavily.

It was a relief to hear the ragdolly act ‘normal’ again, but it felt like she was growing more confused as she learned more and more about her surrounding circus mates. The sooner she earned Gangle’s trust, the better. The claw marks on Ragatha’s door made Pomni want to avoid Jax for as long as she possibly could, lest she’d risk to randomly be mauled by a spontaneously feral rabbit.

Yet again, something new for Pomni to be weary of.

“Ragatha?” Pomni asked hesitantly, “Do you think I can do this?”

No context was given, but the doll could comprehend the true question that the jester was asking - she answered as honestly as she could.

“I believe that you can.” She said softly as she looked to the little fool, who’s eyes were occupied; tracing the marks on the door, “…but it will always depend on how much you want to make it work.”

“We don’t really have a choice, do we?” Pomni tore away her gaze on the door to peer up at Ragatha, who chose to remain silent.

No need to answer something that wasn’t intended as a question.

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