#this was written months ago please don't mind me

[7000f1]

Just keep your eyes closed, please

If you have an Ao3 account, you can read it here

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: ヒプノシスマイク | Hypnosis Mic (Albums)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Aimono Jyushi/Harai Kuko

Characters: Harai Kuko, Aimono Jyushi

Additional Tags: Fluff, Love Confessions, Lots of internal monologue, Crushes

Summary: Jyushi can't stop looking at Kuko

Notes: Do you ever look at someone and wonder, what is going on inside their head?

Hatsune Miku's PoPiPo intensifies

The more he looked, the more he thought Kuko had something . Jyushi thought it had to be how much energy he stored back when they first met, the monk showing a big smile as he proclaimed they were now a family. The experience might have been scary at first and Jyushi ended up getting beaten up to a pulp, but the way Kuko acted around him brought his hopes up.

But then Jyushi saw how serene he was when meditating. Unmoving, unbothered. Not even a blizzard would get him out of that state, and that also drew Jyushi in. He was sure that Kuko knew how often he stared at him whenever he went to the temple by now, but the monk never made a comment on it. Instead, he always flashed that same energetic smile and voiced some kind of ridiculous idea.

He once found Kuko feeding some stray cats, it was a new side of him. His smile was kind. Not like it usually wasn't, but it was different. Filled with adoration maybe? When Jyushi thought that he wished to be a cat, he immediately discarded the thought and decided to join him. Maybe it'd be easier to not think about it if he was close to him. Or so he tried to convince himself.

On another occasion he got to the temple right as Kuko was applying his own makeup. Nothing too extravagant, just some vibrant red eyeshadow hugging the corner of his eyes. Simple, yet he made it look fierce. But again, the way he applied it with utmost precision clashed with his usual way of acting. Jyushi hoped he could see him without makeup again so he could ask to do it for him.

Jyushi was well aware that Kuko was handsome. Cute even. He had a lot of time to study the way his long eyelashes curved, how his round cheeks lifted whenever he flashed a smile making his eyes almost close or how his eyes sparkled when the sunlight hit just right. And even then, Kuko still managed to get that strong confident aura surrounding him.

But Kuko still had something that made him so unique, so special. Something that even after spending so much time together, there he was looking at him in awe once again.

They both were supposed to be meditating that day, and Jyushi knew he would get scolded for not doing so. But he didn't care. Not when Kuko was looking so ethereal right then.

Jyushi couldn't help but wonder what he thought whenever they were together like this, as silly as it was. He knew Kuko wasn't really thinking, that was the point. However, the idea of emptying your head was still hard to grasp for him.

"Kuko-san?" He tried, even though he knew no answer would come out. "I know this is silly and you'll scold me but..." He sighed. "Are you even listening? I don't know, you look so absent whenever we do this."

As expected, no answer came out. Kuko didn't make a noise, didn't even move. Yet somehow that gave Jyushi the courage to continue.

"There's a lot of things going on in my head." He started. "I can't make sense of them. I wonder... What is going on in your head right now? You look so different from usual."

How did Kuko know that Jyushi wasn't performing well, how did he pay attention to his surroundings like that, how did he feel, how could he achieve that… Jyushi wanted to ask many things, and none of them with the goal of improving himself. Kuko had already given some kind of vague answer that Jyushi didn't really understand. He just wanted to know more about the monk.

"Lately I can't stop thinking about you, Kuko-san." He confessed. "You always look so cool and strong no matter what you do. I guess you could say it's like admiration…" Jyushi briefly thought about Hitoya and shook his head. "No, that's not it. It's different."

Jyushi hugged his legs and rocked back and forth a couple times as he hummed in thought.

"I think you've already noticed how much I look your way. I don't know, I do it unconsciously. I also find myself just thinking…" He felt his face get hot. "How I'd like you to praise me. Or hug me maybe." What was he saying? He really hoped Kuko wasn't listening at all.

"I guess... What I'm trying to say is that I'm falling for you. And you're probably not listening, but that's fine. I don't even know why I'm saying this."

He waited a few seconds to calm himself down before he dared to take a last glance at the monk. Maybe he could pretend to be meditating then.

He could not.

Kuko was staring right back at him with wide eyes.

"Hi." Jyushi said, his pitch higher than usual.

"What do you mean I'm probably not listening?!" Kuko's voice cracked. "What kind of mentor would I be if I didn't listen to you?"

"I'm sorry!" The apology came out automatically, but it took no time for Jyushi's brain to register what Kuko just said. "Wait but then you... Wait, are you blushing?!"

"Shut up, you are!"

"But-"

"Shut up!"

"Kuko-san, what are your thoughts on what I just said?"

"Maybe I'll tell you when you actually focus one day!"

"That's unfair!"

"What you're doing is unfair!"

"You two! Shut up!" Shakku opened the door, to which Kuko immediately threw his jacket at him, as if on instinct, and ran away.

"You two won't catch me alive!" He shouted.

"Kuko!" Shakku ran after him at full speed, leaving Jyushi alone with his thoughts.

It might not have been the first time something like that happened, but it was the first time Jyushi felt rejected by it. He still waited for the slight chance of Shakku catching Kuko, maybe then he could apologize. For what, he wasn't sure. But it was what felt right.

But Shakku came back alone. Jyushi pretended to listen to whatever he had to say. A light scold about how they both should keep quiet while in the temple or something like that. If Kuko was there it would be 100 times worse.

When he was free to go, he decided that leaving home, getting some hot cocoa, telling Amanda about his disastrous day and watching a sappy movie was the best option to spend that night. That plan however, didn't last long.

"Hey." Kuko was looking up from the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey…"

Kuko frowned, then looked at his feet for a bit. Since he ran away he was only wearing some geta and his arms were completely bare. Definitely not fit for how cool the weather was, but he didn't seem to care. Instead he took a deep breath and looked back at him.

"Come with me."

As usual, Kuko didn't wait for Jyushi to catch up. He had to follow his steps through the woods surrounding the temple, past the point where Kuko usually spent time with the cats until they reached a now familiar spot that Kuko used to meditate under the waterfall. It was only then that Kuko talked once more.

"We can be at peace here." The monk sat next to the body of water and gave a couple taps on the spot on the ground right next to him. "Time to continue what we were doing."

Jyushi didn't understand what he was talking about, but sat on that same spot regardless and waited.

He felt silly once Kuko went back to meditating. Of course he meant that.

Jyushi sighed. There was nothing he could do but follow orders. He could leave, but he didn't really want to go back home and drown his tears in a pillow while Amanda watched. So once he made sure Kuko wouldn't be too cold by using his scarf as an impromptu blanket, he resumed - or rather, started his meditation session.

As time passed, Jyushi felt more and more uneasy. He wanted to peek. Just a quick glance. There was no harm in that, right? Though Kuko would know. He probably even knew he wasn't keeping focus anyway.

"You suck at this."

Jyushi immediately opened his eyes to see Kuko now sitting in front of him, chin resting on the palm of his hand and a neutral expression on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"Less apologizing and more focusing on your breathing. You're thinking so loudly I can almost hear you." Kuko crossed his arms with a loud sigh. "We've been through this plenty of times. I know you can do it."

As much as he wanted to complain and cry, Jyushi also knew there was no meaning in doing so. Instead, he followed orders. Soon enough Kuko remarked how he was sitting in a bad posture and Jyushi was kept busy just trying to keep his back straight.

Somehow, it was working even if Kuko was paying attention to every little mistake.

"See? I know you can do it." Jyushi could hear the smile on Kuko's lips in that praise, which effectively made him all bubbly inside. "Don't lose focus." The monk soon reprimanded.

Jyushi nodded and continued to diligently follow his orders to the point where Kuko had no need to nitpick at every mistake. He was doing well, even if his mind tried to bring up a million questions and doubts.

However, the silence didn't last that long.

"So… Jyushi." If the monk only talked to him, maybe Jyushi would have been able to keep calm. But he also reached to play with Jyushi's fingers. "If you lose focus I'll shut up."

The warning was more than enough for him to, at least, pretend. Breathe in, breathe out.

"About what you told me before…" What was one hand playing with his, turned into two. His warm fingers inspected Jyushi's by caressing, turning and tugging at them. While the action made his heart race, it also, thankfully , kept his breathing calm enough for Kuko to continue talking. "I can't put it as adorned as you do."

There was a pause. Kuko then turned Jyushi's hand around to see the back of his hand instead, then tugged at it to, what Jyushi guessed, inspect it closely. He played with his rings then. The wait and how soft his hands felt against his was about to make Jyushi lose his mind. The giggle Kuko let out didn't help.

"I was hoping you would have lost focus by now. Then I wouldn't have to say it. You're so tough. But it also doesn't feel right leaving you like this." Another pause. "Just keep your eyes closed, please."

Hearing Kuko so softly, so vulnerable was a first. Jyushi wasn't sure about what to do, if to answer or not, if reassuring him that he wouldn't open his eyes would be the right thing or if pretending to not listen was what Kuko wanted him to do.

In the end, he opted to give Kuko's hands a little squeeze.

Kuko then kissed the back of his fingers, right before his knuckles. His lips were so soft and warm against his cold hands that when he parted away it felt like they belonged there. Thankfully, Kuko properly held his hand and placed it on his cheek.

"I love you."

Jyushi forgot how to breathe then. If it wasn't for Kuko's plea, he would have opened his eyes then. He needed to know what kind of expression he was making. Was he blushing? Were his pointy canines showing up behind a big warm smile or was it shy? Oh, how he wished to see a smile right then, maybe kiss it. He wanted to see if his ears turned pink or if he carried his confession with the usual confidence he showed everyone.

He wanted to see every side of him.

"Jyushi," Kuko's voice brought his thread of thoughts to a halt. "Can I kiss you? If the answer is no, this is the time to open your eyes."

Kuko then shifted his position to get closer, leaving Jyushi's hand behind in favor of holding his cheeks.

How could he try to take a look? Jyushi already memorized all of Kuko's features. It was meaningless when he was about to discover a new side of him.

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #kuko harai #jyushi aimono #bad ass temple #kuujyu #7000f1 writes #this was written months ago please don't mind me #i privated my fics on ao3 so i'm sharing them publicly here for now

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

#pedrostoriesgift23 #lincolndjarin #taro-666 <3 #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal

[lalal-99]

Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}

113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"

Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k

Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Smut Tags: Smut | Explicit Sexual Content | Porn with some Plot | Fluff and Smut | Mutual Pining | Semi-Public Masturbation | Oral Sex (reader rec.) | Teasing

Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.

Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

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Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.

Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.

That had certainly changed.

It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.

Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.

Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.

When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.

None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.

That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.

Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.

You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.

Things went very fast from there.

The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.

“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”

“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”

Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.

Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.

“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”

You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.

Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.

“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.

“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”

You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”

The redness on your face darkened further.

Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?

You didn’t quite know what to think.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.

Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”

“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.

“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”

What. The. Fuck?

He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.

“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”

And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.

The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.

How the fuck had this happened?

Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.

“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.

With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.

A last smile sent your way and he dove in.

Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.

Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.

Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.

Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.

Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.

For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.

“Eyes on me, Kitten.”

A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.

“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”

Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.

“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”

With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.

“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”

You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.

“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”

He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”

Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.

Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.

When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”

“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.

But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.

Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.

He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.

You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.

With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.

“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”

How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.

“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”

When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.

And your kitty was satisfied at last.

Masterlist Leave your thought

#kpop smut #felix #lee felix #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #kpop fanfic #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #felix smut #stray kids fanfic #lee felix smut #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids angst #felix stray kids #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids fanfiction

[little-diable]

My Greatest Fear - Dean Winchester (smut)

Don't say I didn't warn y'all. Inspired by Benson Boone's new song "My Greatest Fear". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean broke things off with the reader years ago, the biggest mistake of his life. But when Sam tells his brother that (y/n) is getting married, Dean knows it's time to make things right. He won't leave this life behind without being able to call her his once again.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho, reader is a runaway bride

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Got a lot on my mind that keeps me up at night, I’m tossing and turning, thinking that my life’s gone to waste

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dean shot the waitress a big smile as she placed his breakfast down, blushing as the handsome man winked at her. The older Winchester brother was too focused on his food to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Sam, to focus on the sadness swimming in his brother’s pupils. 

“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean’s moans rumbled through him as he ate the greasy deliciousness, sipping on his coffee every now and then. It took him a while to lift his gaze, to allow his green eyes to focus on Sam’s untouched breakfast, forcing Dean’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Not hungry? Shouldn’t you eat something after a long run?” 

“Mhm,” Sam’s eyes were focused on the window, unable to look at his brother any longer. His heart clenched in his chest, his mind was racing faster than it had in the past months, struggling to part his lips. 

“Sam,” Dean’s raspy voice forced Sam’s eyes back towards his older brother, unable to hold eye contact for long. “What’s wrong?” 

Dean had put down his breakfast burger while taking another sip of coffee. He patiently waited for Sam to speak, to spill whatever was visibly plaguing him. But Sam kept quiet, deeply inhaling as if he had to muster the strength to speak. Dean repeated his brother’s name, much quieter this time around, gentle almost – as if he had finally realised that whatever Sam was about to speak would hurt them both. 

“I received an email this morning.” It was a whisper, nothing more, words so obscurely simple that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. But Sam didn’t give in, killing Dean’s hope that Sam was simply fucking with him. Something heavy was about to claw through Sam, something heavy that could determine the outcome of this very day. “It was from Mary, (y/n)’s sister.”

Now it was on Dean to freeze, not expecting his brother to speak her name. Their eyes met, urging Sam to keep on speaking, to tell his brother about the email he had opened with shaky fingers, freezing in his step as he read the words she had written to him. 

“(Y/n)’s getting married, Dean.” Sam was forced to watch Dean sink back into the seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, uneasy eyes staring down at the table. And for a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the words sink in – words that had been Dean’s greatest fear ever since he had left her all these years ago. 

He had been stupid back then, too childish for his own good. Guided by his father’s words, he had dropped (y/n) and the life they could have lived together. His father had made pretty promises, telling his young son of women awaiting him, women he shouldn’t miss out on because of a marriage that would only tie him to (y/n), away from all the fun he could experience. The greatest mistake of his life, a mistake he hated himself for every single day. 

“That’s good for her. I’m happy she found somebody who treats her right.” The words pained Dean to speak, rolling off his tongue with a sharp edge that left Sam cringing. His hand found Dean’s forearm, gently squeezing his brother’s arm in a gesture so unfamiliar, Dean had to stop himself from shaking off Sam’s hand. 

“Dean, I’ve always loved her like a sister, I only want what’s best for her. But you’re my brother, I know how much not having her around scars you, I see it every day on your face. Get her back, try it at least.” 

Of all the things that I've been afraid to lose, my greatest fear of all is losing you

……

“I shouldn’t do this.” They were parked in front of the small church, eyes watching the big crowd of unfamiliar faces. Both Dean and Sam were wearing a suit, knowing that they had to blend in with the wedding guests to find their way to (y/n). “Why should she take me back? Why should she even listen to me?”

“Dean, if there is one thing I know it’s that she still loves you. Let’s get your girl back.” Sam was first to step out into the warm morning, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as they walked up to the crowd. He felt Dean close, not daring to speak up with his choked-up throat, with his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that this would be his only shot to make things right for once in his life. 

“Mary!” Sam’s voice echoed through the air, eyes focused on the frame of (y/n)’s sister. The young woman flung herself into Sam’s open arms, chuckling into his neck as he held her close for a moment. A moment too long for Dean who was growing more antsy with every passing second. 

“Thank you for coming. She’s making a mistake, Sam. You’re my only hope with this.” The words left Dean frozen, confused eyes flickering between his brother and Mary. He hadn’t read the email Mary had sent to Sam, hadn’t asked any further questions about the man (y/n) was about to marry, trusting that he was somebody she loved. “Come, I’ll bring you to her.”

“What the fuck man?” Dean growled the words at Sam as he followed them through the crowd and towards a small house built near the church. Sam fell into pace with his brother, watching Mary lead them towards the place where (y/n) was currently getting ready. 

“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you do this without knowing (y/n) would willingly leave her fiancé, did you? I wouldn’t destroy her happiness just like that, Dean.” Realistically, Dean should have known that Sam wouldn’t just push him into this without knowing that there was a chance to get her back. Sam had hated him for a while after he had left (y/n), punishing Dean for breaking her heart at any given chance, a broken bond that had needed months to be repaired. 

“(Y/n)? I brought two special guests.” Mary’s voice echoed through the small cabin, ringing in the brother’s ears as they waited outside. Dean felt his hands tremble, forced to let go of deep exhales as Mary opened the door for them, allowing them to step inside. His eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s like a moth to a flame, and his world stopped spinning, unable to focus on anything but her.

It took (y/n) a second to react, seemingly confused about the appearance of the two hunters she hadn’t seen in years. She was pulled into a hug by Sam, giving Dean another moment to admire her, the white dress she wore – a sight he had only seen in his dreams, imagining this very day, with him waiting at the altar for her. Dreams that had evaporated into a hazy nothingness the day he had left her. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” She sank into Dean’s grasp, clinging to him as if he hadn’t been the man who had broken her heart all these years ago. He watched his brother and Mary leave the cabin, giving the two some time alone as they kept on holding one another. 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against the fabric of his suit jacket, not caring about smudging her make-up, not caring about anything but the way Dean held her close – as if he hadn’t ever stopped holding her. Carefully, Dean let her go, needing to give them some distance for the words he was about to speak, knowing that this could escalate any moment now. 

“I can’t let you marry another man without telling you that leaving you was my greatest mistake. A life without you has always been my biggest fear, I was stupid, so fucking stupid, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have listened to Dad, I should have married you right that day. And I hate myself for not doing it, for letting you go when you have always been my whole world. I know there is no chance for me to make things right, and even though Sammy and Mary hope that I will sweep you off of your feet and bring you back home to us, I know I can’t.” Tears dripped from her eyes, tears (y/n) didn’t care to wipe away. 

“I hated you for years, you broke me, Dean. You took away my life, my friends, the people I had grown to love. You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and even though I tried to fight for it, to regain its strength, I miserably failed. I should curse you, should tell you to fuck off and never show your face to me again. But I can’t. For Christ’s sake, Dean. What are we doing here?” He cupped her face with shaking fingers, letting his forest-green eyes run over her gorgeous face. 

“I want to kill him for getting a chance to love you, time that has been wasted because of me. But I don’t want to take another choice from you. If you want to marry him, I will watch from the first row, hell, I’ll even carry your veil.” His voice shook as he whispered the words, growing tense as (y/n) rested her hands on top of his, still cupping her cheeks.

“And if I don’t want to marry him?” 

……

I'm scared to take another picture of you, 'cause I'm scared to have another thing that I can lose, oh, dear, who am I without you here?

“I thought you were taking me home, where are we going?” Her laughter echoed through Baby, eyes set on Dean’s grinning features. They had left the church a while ago, running away like she had secretly hoped they would. (Y/n) had always been a dreamer, a dreamer who had pictured that very moment since the day it had dawned on her – about to marry a man she didn’t love. A man who wasn’t Dean Winchester. 

“We’ve got another thing to take care of first, I am not losing any more time.” Baby screeched to a halt in front of a pink church, a sight that left (y/n) confused, and Dean and Sam chuckling. They made their way into the church, with her fingers interlaced with Dean’s, with her white wedding gown clinging to her frame, with his suit hugging his frame. 

“Dean, Sam, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you two around here!” An elderly man greeted them with a big smile. His brown eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s almost instantly, with a knowing smile growing on his lips – a smile that had an almost proud touch to it. “That’s her, huh? Took you quite some time, didn’t it.” “(Y/n), that’s Danny, an old friend of ours we met on a hunt. He could wed us, with Sammy as our witness, if you’ll have me.” Her heart had stopped beating, skipping a few beats as Dean’s words sank in. Her teary eyes found his and with a laugh clawing through her, she pressed a kiss to his lips, drawing a groan out of Dean, who tried to prolong the kiss for as long as possible. 

“I will always have you, Dean.” She was pulled towards the altar, unable to stop her tears from dripping as Danny began speaking a prayer she paid no attention to. All (y/n) could do was study Dean, the love swimming in his pupils, the way he looked at her as if she was his sun, alighting the darkest days with her mere presence. A soul crafted for his to hold onto, to love till their time together would eventually run out. 

“Do you have any rings?” Danny’s soft voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, about to whisper a soft, disappointed “No”, but before she could even part her lips, Sam excitedly spoke up. Her eyes watched the tall Winchester brother, how he reached for his breast pocket to expose a small envelope to her glassy eyes. Wordlessly he pushed it towards Dean, who opened it with an unwavering smile stuck to his lips. 

“I bought these rings years ago, sure to eventually push yours down on your finger. I am sorry it took me this long.” Her sob left Dean chuckling, exposing his also teary eyes to hers. She had held onto all these longings for years, mere dreams that were now finally turning real – as if she was just sleeping through another longing. 

But, you're here, now, and that makes it better, somehow

……

“Let me.” Dean’s soft voice filled his bedroom. He was standing behind (y/n), carefully helping her out of her wedding dress with his gaze focused on the ring clinging to his finger. The past hours had flown by all too quickly, turning her from a runaway bride into his wife. His wife. A title so unfamiliar, Dean had to fight against the urge to pinch himself.

His for eternity. His to love. His to worship. 

“I love you, Dean.” (Y/n) whispered her words as she stepped out of her dress, exposing her underwear-clad frame to his hungry eyes. She was pulled into a teeth-chasing kiss, a kiss dripping with emotions that made her feel all too dizzy, having to hold onto Dean before she could be ripped into another dimension. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m so fucking sorry for missing out on this for years.” He pressed her down on the mattress, giving her a show as he slowly undressed. Her body was aching for him, needing to feel Dean close after all these long years apart. 

“Stop apologising with words and show me that you truly mean them.” His lips kissed her chest, the valley between her breasts as he undid her bra, exposing her hardening nipples to his twinkling eyes. Dean could cum just from the sight of her naked frame, a sight he had only seen in his dreams for the past years, not daring to imagine being this fortunate again. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I promise to worship you for as long as you want me to.” Dean’s raspy words vibrated on her skin, covering her body with goosebumps as he kneaded her soft flesh. His cock was pressed against her clothed heat, drawing moans from her whenever he moved against her heat, desperate for the kind of friction that left them both trembling.

“I need you inside of me, Dean.” Her raspy whispers left him groaning against her skin as she raised her hips to help him pull her damp panties down her legs. Just this morning, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, knowing that she’d think of Dean when her husband touched her, a loveless marriage she would have been trapped in. 

“Are you still on birth control?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, mind taken up by the feeling of his wandering hands, keeping her pressed against him. Dean's cock twitched against her naked cunt, brushing through her arousal-covered folds to coat himself, “I love you, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”

“I love you too, Dean.” He pushed into her with a groan, forehead falling against hers as she fluttered around him. It felt as if he had entered paradise, falling to rest on clouds covering his body. She was his Elysium, his safe haven, the one where Dean could be the truest version of himself. 

He moved slowly at first, both needed some time to adjust to one another after all these years, but the second their bodies relaxed, properly enjoying one another’s closeness, Dean began to move faster. Their bodies met with every thrust, eyes holding a contact so intense, (y/n) feared her heart would explode right in her chest. 

Dean was taking his time with her, this wasn’t a rushed fuck to make up for all the time lost, no, it was so much more. This was the purest form of love, a one-of-a-kind love both had clung to in lonely nights, with wandering minds and trembling hands. This is what they had been destined to have, years ago – a love they were now rediscovering. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He felt her clenching around his cock, drawing another gritty sound out of Dean. (Y/n) was long gone, pushed into another dimension where she only knew Dean, nothing but his love, his touch, his irrevocable longing for her. Sensations she was taken hostage by, unable to shake them. 

His warm fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with just enough pressure to draw his name out of her. (Y/n) could feel her orgasm slithering its way up her body, whispering to her to hold onto her husband, and with her fingernails clawed into Dean’s shoulders, she came. He followed her right down the edge, moaning against her lips as their bodies were moulded together. 

“Fuck, we’ll have to do that all through the night, husband.” (Y/n) whispered the words as a few heavy pants left her, making a laugh claw out of Dean who chased her slightly swollen lips for another kiss. 

“Trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed for weeks, wife.” 

Don't know how the broken pieces fit together if you leave it, so, don't go, don't go, I would take your hand if I could reach it

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural

[python333]

soft spot — python333

— — — —

synopsis you've been having a bad day, and ghost feels like being extra nice to you. plot twist you're an age regressor and him being so nice is NOT helping.

relationships platonic agere cg!ghost & gn little!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 6.7k.

warnings a victorious reference, age regressor reader, usage of c/n [call sign/code name], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself]

note please feel free to attack me as much as you want if this is inaccurate. i don't even care if it's not constructive criticism. i am begging for everyone's thoughts and opinions on this!! this is also the longest oneshot i think i've ever written!

“Having fun there?” 

You turn in your seat and find Ghost leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one eye slightly wider than the other—an indication that his eyebrow is raised. 

“Not really,” You answer, setting down your gun. You’d been disassembling it, trying to take your mind off of the slowly growing headache that’s been building up for the past few hours. You don’t think it’s a migraine or anything, but it still bothers you greatly. 

“Yeah, no, I can tell,” Ghost chuckles, pushing himself off of the door frame and walking over to you. He eyes your gun for a moment, the magazine already removed as well as any live rounds left in the rifle ejected, and the bolt locked to the rear. You were only maybe a quarter of the way through your disassembly, even though you started around thirty minutes ago. 

For some reason, you woke up upset today. You were too tired, you felt awfully sluggish, and there was a throbbing pain clustered in the back of your eyebrows. So, in short—you were reasonably very upset. It showed visibly in the way your eyes twitched every so often, and in the way you felt the need to pinch the bridge of your nose to distract you from the pain that was still building up behind your brows. 

“What’s going on?” He asks, leaning on the table. 

“I have this headache that won’t go away,” You respond, sighing as you move your gaze from your gun to Ghost. You can barely see it, but from his eyes you can tell that his face scrunches up beneath his mask. He knows a thing or two about bad headaches, being someone who frequently gets migraines himself. 

“Have you taken any meds for it?” You shake your head ‘no’. Ghost holds up a single finger in a ‘one moment’ motion and rummages through the pockets on his tactical vest for a moment, before he pulls out a small bottle of ibuprofen no bigger than his palm. He hands it to you. 

“Here.” You blink at it for a moment. 

“Thanks,” You take the bottle gingerly and Ghost nods, watching you as you struggle with the child-proof lid for a second before getting it open. You shake out a small tablet, one the size of a low-dosage aspirin, and pop it into your mouth. You don’t have much of an issue dry-swallowing it, and it only takes one attempt before you successfully swallow the tablet.

“You’ve been feeling pretty bad this whole week, haven’t you?” Ghost frowns underneath his mask. 

You think for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I guess. I think it’s mostly just stress.” 

You know it’s not just stress. 

For a while now, you’ve used something called ‘age regression’ as a form of stress relief. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you do know that it was before you were recruited for the 141. And originally, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t regress while on base, and you kept that promise for maybe a month before you broke it. 

You think it was Ghost that was the trigger, actually. You can vividly remember the first time you regressed while on base; you had just finished talking to Ghost, and he called you something—you think he called you something similar to ‘kid’—that made a flip in your mind switch immediately. You can remember excusing yourself from the conversation quickly, leaving your lieutenant slightly confused but otherwise unbothered by the strange action. 

And, worst of all, you can remember being in your quarters and practically burrowing under your blankets. You were curled up into a fetal position, trying to fight the urge to suck on your thumb or at least chew on something, but ultimately lost the fight and succumbed to your urges. You spent maybe a few hours like that, wide awake when you just wanted to try and sleep it away, thinking about that interaction you had with Ghost over and over again. 

You’re not stupid. You know that Ghost has some sort of soft spot for you—albeit, you don’t know exactly how soft that soft spot is, but it’s definitely soft. Soft enough that he goes the tiniest bit easier on you compared to other recruits, soft enough that he spares you more time than he does for others, and the most obvious of all—he initiates most of your conversations. 

Contrary to popular belief, he’s not the scary super-soldier most people think of him as. Sure, maybe he is kind of scary, and maybe his mask does jumpscare you when you’re doing missions in particularly dark spaces sometimes, but other than that he’s not scary in the slightest. If anything, he’s awkward. Awkward enough that he’s almost never the first person to talk to someone—except for you, of course. You don’t know why he acts so differently around you, but you don’t complain about it. 

“That’s rough,” Ghost looks down at you with concerned, empathetic eyes, “Sorry you’re so stressed. Mind me askin’ why?” 

“I don’t, but I also don’t know why I’m so stressed,” You huff out, even though you know the answer completely. You stand up, “I think it’s just me being sleep deprived. I’ve been having the tiniest bit of trouble falling asleep lately.” 

“You should’ve told me earlier,” Ghost tuts, “I have melatonin.” 

You give him a confused look. “You do?” 

“‘Course I do.” 

You blink at him for a moment before sighing, “Could I have some then?” 

“What’s the magic word?” You give him an unimpressed look, ignoring the way the words make your stomach twist, and his eyes crinkle in a way that lets you know that he’s grinning under his mask. 

“Could I please have some melatonin?” 

“The magic word was lotion, but I’ll let it slide,” Ghost hums, “There’s some in my office. I’ll grab it for you later.” 

“M’kay,” You look over at the door, unintentionally zoning out as you do. Your vision goes unfocused as the throbbing pain behind your eyebrows grows and something else grows inside of you. 

Jesus. Why can’t you choose any other time to get the urge to slip into a younger mentality? Why does your headache have to make everything worse for you? Why does Ghost have to be so nice and helpful? 

“Hey,” Ghost frowns, tapping a finger on your shoulder to snap you out of whatever trance you’re in, “[c/n]?” 

Oh God. 

Your eyes—that you try desperately to keep neutral—meet Ghost’s, his eyes soft and his eyebrows dipped downwards in a confused manner. His eyes are searching, flitting over you, trying to find something. The way he looks at you makes you want to squirm, and you can’t help but just slightly shuffle in place. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, voice as concerned as his look. That should be the breaking point for you, but you remain as big as you can be, and nod affirmatively. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You try to assure him, hoping you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, “I think I’m just a little tired.” 

Ghost doesn’t look convinced. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder, the act like a hammer putting another dent in the wall you had put up. The leather of his glove is warm even through the thick material of your shirt, and it feels like hot metal against your cold skin, the clothing covering your shoulder be damned. 

“You can tell me if you’re not okay,” He tells you—what is he doing? Does he know something I don’t?—while his thumb starts rubbing circles into your shoulder, “I feel like you’re more than a little tired.” 

You stay silent for a little bit. You don’t know how to explain yourself, the words seeming to liquify and leak right out of you, making you speechless. He seems to notice this, sighing and letting his hand slip down to your hand, holding it and giving it a quick squeeze. 

“I think,” He looks around for a moment before turning back to you, “that we should head to my office so that nobody can bother us, and then you can tell me all about how you’re feeling right now. Does that sound okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, not trusting yourself to talk with how heavy your tongue feels, and you let Ghost lead you back to his office. It’s only a hallway away, but that’s still enough time to overthink everything that could possibly happen. How does he know something’s wrong? What gave it away? Did I do something bad? What did I do? Wh—

The creak of his office door opening snaps you out of your thoughts, and Ghost steps aside to let you enter his office first. Hesitantly, you take a few steps inside, and you hear the door click shut behind you as Ghost walks in. He takes your hand again, making you look at him as he guides you to a chair. 

You sit in the chair that’s in front of his desk, and he quickly drags out the chair that’s behind it so that it’s right next to yours. He sits down. 

He’s looking at you expectantly. 

“Uh.” You’re not sure what to say. He’s looking at you so reassuringly, it’s hard to keep yourself sitting upright. 

“I know something’s wrong,” Ghost says, leaning forward the tiniest bit, “I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” 

He’s got to have at least some idea of what you’re experiencing, You think, trying to form some sort of explanation, He’s being so… weird? 

You swear there’s some other word you could use, but your vocabulary feels so limited, and you would mentally curse if you could because you know that now your explanation is gonna sound weird. You can’t use the words you want, you’re gonna be forced to use simple words, ones that can’t convey exactly how you feel. Words that—and it physically pained you to admit this—were childish. 

You can explain your situation. Just, now it would be more… blunt. And short. And also you’d feel like killing yourself afterwards. You won’t, obviously, but you can predict that you’ll come very close to doing so.

Okay, I have to say something because Ghost is looking more and more worried the longer I stay silent. 

“I feel…” You trail off for a moment, trying to get your thoughts in order for the next two seconds to actually say something that makes sense, before continuing in a far less confident tone, “… small.” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Ew. Ew. Ew. What. Why? Why that word? It leaves a sour taste on your tongue and yet you can’t think of any other word that would better suit how you feel. Still. Ew. 

Your thoughts are a jumbled mess ranging from fleeting thoughts of disgust to thoughts lodged in the back of your mind begging you to go anywhere else just so that you can stop having to have this conversation. This conversation requires words bigger than you have access to, and a sort of control over yourself that you can’t grasp. You can feel your hands twitching, wanting something to hold onto, anything to keep you distracted from the overwhelming urge to just regress. 

Ghost blinks. He didn’t expect that answer. 

“Small?” He repeats in a questioning tone, eyebrows furrowed, “I mean, compared to me, I guess you’re kind of short—” 

“No, no, not like short small,” You try to clarify, feeling just slightly discouraged by Ghost’s confused words, “Like…” 

You struggle to find the words that properly describe how you feel, only finding words like small and little in your current vocabulary. Your findings are making you increasingly upset, and you can feel your face start to grow hot with frustration and embarrassment. 

Oh my God. 

“Like…?” Ghost nudges your knee with his, trying to encourage you to talk, “I’m not leaving until you tell me.” 

There’s still a level of care in his words, no matter how confused he seems, and that adds all the more struggle to your predicament. Not only do you not want to tell him, but you can’t describe how you feel in a way that’s acceptable for someone your age to describe anything. At least, not in a way that you deem acceptable for yourself to describe anything. 

You’re far too old to be describing yourself as small. 

“[c/n]?” Ghost nudges you again, and you blink at him. Your eyes are flickering all over his mask, going anywhere but his eyes, since eye contact with anyone would make everything significantly worse for you right now. 

“It’s just—” You try to take a deep breath but your breath hitches. Everything is starting to make you feel so frustrated, and you’re starting to think that you might just throw a tantrum if you can’t do at least one thing right. You try to find the words you want to use but your throat is disobediently closing on you. Your mind feels like straight mush, and the quickly softening look that Ghost is giving you isn’t helping you at all. 

To your horror, in your inexplicable inability to talk in the way you normally do, you let out a small whine. It sounds obnoxious to your ears, and worst of all, sounds like something a little kid would do. 

You put your head in your hands, the quickly reddening skin of your cheeks getting cooled by the cold of your palms as you try and hide your face from Ghost. You can picture how he looks right now—somehow more confused than earlier, possibly annoyed, weirded out—and all those mental images make you bite your tongue to prevent another noise. 

“What was that?” You don’t answer him. 

To your non-answer, Ghost sighs, and you think, This is it, this is where he kicks me out of his office, oh my God I’m gonna get dishonorably discharged and he’s gonna give me a really mean look on my way out—

“Look at me.” You shake your head negatively. 

“Why not?” He sounds so confused, it makes you want to cry. There’s still a level of worry in his voice, and it adds to the fog that builds up in your brain. 

You move your face just slightly up so that your eyes peek out from above your fingertips, your hands covering the rest of your face. Ghost reaches out both of his hands, and ever so gently removes your hands from your face, uncovering your red cheeks and your lips—the lower of which quivers, like you’re about to cry. He notices this quickly, and you can practically feel the level of his worry shoot up. 

He doesn’t say anything, instead just holding your hands in his for a moment, before he sets them down into your lap. He looks at you, concerned, and asks, “Is it hard to talk right now?” 

You nod. His gaze shifts to his computer, and then back to you. 

“I’m gonna go look a few things up really quick, okay? I’ll just be right over there,” He nods over to the space behind his computer, “and I’ll be right back here in a few seconds.” 

You reluctantly nod again, and Ghost gets up from his seat. He grabs the back of the chair and drags it back around behind his desk, sitting down in it and powering on his monitor. It turns on almost immediately, much to his relief, and he goes to his browser and searches up a few things. You can’t tell what he’s searching up, only hearing the clacking of keys and the occasional final click that indicates that he’s hit the enter button. 

He stays there for maybe a minute or two. It’s a long few minutes, and you can feel yourself slipping more and more the longer he stays at his computer. And the more you feel yourself slipping into that younger mindset, the more you start to crave Ghost’s attention. 

The way his eyes are glued to his computer starts to irritate you. You’re aware that he’s doing something important, he must be, because why would he be so intent on looking something up otherwise, but still—you manage to feel the tiniest bit jealous of the computer. You know you’re too far gone when you can’t find it within yourself to realize that you’re jealous of a computer. 

Your eyes linger on him and he must notice this because he looks up from the screen of his monitor and looks over at you. As if he can read your mind, he reassures you, “Just a few more seconds.” 

But you said you were gonna be back in a few seconds a few minutes ago. 

You don’t voice your thoughts. Instead, you nod, because God forbid you annoy Ghost with your need for attention now when he’s being so patient with you. He looks at you for another moment before going back to his computer and looking something else up, this time with a little more fervor. 

Another few seconds pass and, true to his word this time, Ghost stops and gets up from his chair. He walks over to you, and your eyes follow him intently. He kneels down in front of you.

He looks hesitant to say something to you. That’s a first. That adds to the exponentially growing blob of fear that lives inside your mind, one of the only things that’s still prominent in the fog that conquers your brain. 

“Are you…” You feel like you know what he’s gonna ask you. You’re bracing yourself for the question, and he looks like he’s bracing himself just to ask it. 

“How, uh,” He’s trying to find the right wording, and you’ve never been able to relate to him harder than you do in this moment, “How… do you feel right now? How old?” 

How old? You don’t really like that question. As much as you like that you’re now getting attention, you’re starting to remember how little you actually enjoy this type of attention. The question is pretty vague, but at the same time so specific, and you’re almost ashamed to know exactly what the answer is. Or, at least, you would feel ashamed if there was room in your mind to feel so. 

“You said you feel small, right? Not like short small, just small?” He sounds more unsure of himself now, and you don’t think you like seeing him so reluctant to say something, “I looked up what it means to feel like that. Took some time, but I got to some person’s… website, and the person who wrote it was talkin’ about feeling like that. Something about regression, feeling a little bit younger than usual?” 

He’s being so awkward about it, and while you typically find his awkwardness funny, now it’s anything but that. 

“Uhm,” Your voice comes out as a mumble and you see Ghost perk up at it. You don’t know what to say. For a moment, you’re silent again, before you get over your embarrassment for a quick two seconds and force yourself to say, “Four.” 

“Four?” Ghost asks, before quickly realizing, “Right. Four. You feel four?” 

You nod, and your hands instinctively start moving back up to cover your face. Ghost swiftly grabs them, keeping his grip gentle as he keeps them from reaching your face. 

“Hey, don’t try to hide again,” He says, tone softening as he holds your hands, “everything’s fine, okay? Do you— what, uh— do you need me to do anything? Do you want me to leave you alo—”

“No!” You quickly answer, a little surprised by your own volume, before you clear your throat and answer in a much more quiet voice, “Don’t leave me alone.” 

“Okay, okay,” Ghost’s thumbs rub across the back of your hands, a soothing gesture that makes you the tiniest bit more relaxed, “what do you need?” 

You sniffle, and you can see an immediate look of panic cross Ghost’s eyes. You don’t know how well he is with crying children, and don’t want to impose such a situation on him, but you also can’t stop the tears that begin to well up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” He borderline begs, “everything’s gonna be okay, okay? Please do not cry. Take a deep breath.” 

You try to take a deep breath, you really do, but your breath just hitches and gets caught in your throat. It only makes you more distressed, adding to the urge you have to just disappear. Ghost notices your failed deep breathing and lets go of one of your hands, before taking the other and holding it to his chest.

You can just barely feel his heartbeat, his thick tactical vest and gear in the way of it, but you can still feel it. Ghost takes a deep breath, holding it for a second or two before slowly exhaling. 

“You copy me, okay?” He tells you, his words an order but his tone suggesting otherwise. He takes another deep breath, this time hoping you’ll follow his lead, and you do. 

You try to breathe with him, your hand on his chest helping, but your breath keeps getting caught in your throat. Ghost notices this, but continues his breathing anyway, hoping you’ll catch on soon. You do, thankfully—after a few more attempted breaths, you finally manage one almost identical to Ghost’s. The next few after that go similarly, and that’s when Ghost decides you’re alright to take your hand off of his chest. 

“I need you to tell me what to do,” He says, keeping your hand in his hold, “or at least tell me how all of this works. I want to help you.”

 You really don’t want to tell him what you need right now, but you also don’t think you have a choice. 

Wordlessly, you stand up from your seat, balance just slightly off-center before you quickly get your footing right. Ghost watches you, not moving, before you tug on his hand to try and urge him to get up as well. He obliges, getting up. 

“What—” You interrupt him by taking another step forward and letting your head thump right into his chest, ignoring the itchy uncomfortable feeling of his vest against your face. You don’t bother to wrap your arms around him to at least try and form some sort of hug, preferring to just smush yourself into him and hope for the best. 

After a moment of stunned silence, he wraps his arms around you. 

“You mind if we move behind my desk so I can look up some more stuff on all of this?” He asks, voice quiet, “Unless you want to just tell me?” 

“Desk,” You simply mumble into his vest, making him nod. 

“Alright, but you’re gonna have to stop hugging me for a second,” Ghost warns you. You reluctantly step away, and Ghost smiles softly down at you, bringing his hands away from your back and instead holding one of yours. 

He leads you behind his desk, and lets go of your hand before sitting down in his chair. Pausing, he quickly realizes you have nowhere to sit, and thinks for a moment before getting back up. He drags his chair just slightly to the side and looks back at you. 

“Sit down,” He nods to the chair, “It’s only gonna be a minute or two, alright?” 

You nod, hesitantly moving to sit in the chair, not really liking how far away from Ghost it is. It's not that far, You try to rationalize, I’m gonna be fine. 

Ghost can see your hesitation and tries to work as quickly as he can, grateful that he didn’t turn his computer off earlier, typing away on his keyboard. You don’t care to see what he’s looking up, more focused on looking at the time on his monitor. 21:44. 21:45. The time ticks by and even though it’s only been a few seconds you already want Ghost’s attention again. His attention has actually turned into good attention, and that’s the type of attention you’ve been craving for the past week. 

The clock reads 21:47 once Ghost is done, and he powers his monitor off this time, the small whirring the device makes dying down to a low hum before going completely silent. He turns to you, and somehow can sense that you need more attention. 

“Am I not paying enough attention to you?” He teases you, making you conflicted on whether you should be annoyed by the teasing or happy you’re finally getting attention. As if he can read your mind, he chuckles, and kneels down to your level. 

“I’m gonna give you as much attention as you need, alright?” He promises, “I just need you to stay in this room.” 

— 

Ghost watches you nod non-verbally, and it only adds to his softening expression. 

He’s always had a soft spot for kids. He knows that you aren’t technically a kid, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still see you as one. You’re young for someone in the military, much less someone in this 141, and now that he’s found out that you’re an age regressor, that you’re a little—well, that doesn’t help how he sees you at all. 

He thinks that maybe the reason he has such a soft spot for kids is a few encounters he’s had with them in the past. He’s seen far too many in compromising positions while on missions; positions like being held hostage, being held as prisoner, or just generally being mistreated or even just living in bad conditions. 

He looks at you, and he just sees another one of those kids. 

He sees how you act around him. He’s not stupid. When he talks to you, you’re actually engaged in the conversation, compared to when anyone else tries to talk to you—maybe excluding Price, or Soap, or Gaz, heavy on that maybe—you’re more likely than not brushing them off every chance you get. You’re standoffish with everyone else, but with him, you’ll always accept any conversation he initiates. 

He can also see the way you look at him. It’s like you’re looking at your idol, or your savior, the way you look up at him. He can see that curious glint in your eyes when he tells you about a recent mission, or when he tells you anything, really. He can see when you try to mimic how he holds his weapons, and when you try to copy his techniques. 

He remembers catching you one day in the shooting range trying to mimic how he aims at the targets—looking through your scope with one eye closed, the other focused only on the dot centered on the scope, taking a deep breath in and out before shooting, and keeping the gun exactly like that even seconds after the shot’s been fired. 

In fact, the copying has gone from guns to melee weapons recently. Ghost swings only his forearm when he uses a knife, thumb resting on the very end of the knife’s handle, and entire arm stiff as he does. He does a slow windup when behind someone, a fast one on the off-chance that he’s in front, and buries the weapon to the hilt in whoever’s flesh he’s penetrated. He’s already seen you do the same on a recent mission. Not only that, but he caught you using a knife almost identical to his. 

And now, you’re still looking at him like that—except, different. Sort of like how a kid might look up to their parents. 

“What do you feel like doing, kiddo?” He asks, hoping the pet name isn’t too much. 

From the way your eyes light up, he suspects it isn't. 

“Mmm…” You hum, thinking for a moment, before requesting, “Coloring?” 

“Coloring, huh?” Ghost looks around for some blank paper and some sort of marker or pen thick enough to act as one, but can only find some highlighters. He turns to you, frowning, “Sorry, but I don’t think I have any paper, kid. Anything else you wanna do?”

You shake your head, and Ghost is just about ready to jump off of a bridge before you point to his arm and repeat, “Coloring.” 

He looks at his arm for a second, confused, before he remembers a conversation the two of you had a month or so ago. 

“If you ever wanna get tattoos, I know a guy in Brighton,” Ghost said, reclining his chair back so that he can lay down in it. You were sitting across from him in front of his desk, fiddling with one of his pens. 

“Good to know,” You hummed, “You have any tattoos?” 

“Yeah,” You perked up at his admission, and he sat up for a second to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn’t wearing his usual gear, only one of those standard issue army-green shirts. 

“Here,” He pointed to a large tattoo covering his whole arm like a sleeve, a few designs you could point out to yourself being a skull, a few Roman numerals, and some kind of scythe. 

“Very emo,” You commented, making Ghost snort, “I like it.” 

“I’m glad,” He rolled his sleeve back down. 

There’s a lot of blank space in the tattoo, despite it being a sleeve, and he can already tell that you mean you want to color in that space. He thinks about it for a moment, a fleeting thought of is that even safe? crossing his mind before he ultimately decides that he doesn’t care and would rather kill himself than see you disappointed because he denied your request, his own health be damned. 

“Alright,” He hums, grabbing a few highlighters from a mesh cup on his desk in the colors pink, yellow, and blue, “Go for it.” 

You give him a small smile and if he cared about if he’d get ink poisoning two seconds ago, he sure as hell doesn’t care now. You gingerly grab the highlighters from his hand, your grabbing not too secure and sort of clumsy but secure enough that the markers stay in your hand.

You hold them with both hands, and it makes Ghost realize how small your hands are—sure, you could hold the highlighters with one hand, but he’s glad you aren’t because now he can admire just how small you are as a whole. 

You set the yellow and blue down on his desk, making sure they don’t roll off for a moment before uncapping the pink and hesitantly holding out a hand for Ghost’s arm. He rolls up his sleeve and obediently holds out his arm for you, watching curiously as you press the cold tip of the highlighter to his skin. You’re starting by coloring in the skull a neon pink, much to his amusement, and you’re starting in the dead center of its forehead. 

You’re so much more quiet than you usually are when you’re little, and you’re so much more hesitant, it makes Ghost want to just wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe and in his sight forever. 

Your tongue slightly pokes out from between your lips as you concentrate on coloring in Ghost’s tattoo, making him grin beneath his mask. The ink of the highlighter doesn’t stay within the black bounds of his tattoos at all, but he doesn’t care one bit, and he doesn’t think you care either. You finish up the skull quickly, and move onto the scythe that’s right next to it, this time capping the pink highlighter and grabbing the yellow. 

Ghost is pretty sure this is gonna stain his skin for a day or two, but he couldn’t care less.

He can’t help but notice how much more relaxed you look in your regressed state. More at peace, he should say. There’s no longer a hunch in your shoulders, your eyes aren’t twitching from your headache, and you’re not bouncing your leg like you usually do when you’re sitting down somewhere. It’s like any anxieties you had pre-regression had evaporated, like slipping into a younger mentality had taken away most of your worries, if not all of them. 

He also can’t help but wish he could see you like this more often. Not necessarily the regressed part, but the relaxed part. Well, maybe the regressed part too. You’re being such a sweetheart right now, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to live through this experience. 

“You having fun there, darling?” Ghost asks, his grin evident in his voice. The corners of your lips quirk up at the pet name and you nod silently, and now Ghost is starting to think you’re actually trying to kill him. You’re being so uncharacteristically shy, and you’re being so quiet, and you’re just being so sweet. 

It seems you’ve moved onto the blue highlighter now, coloring in the last bit of his tattoo. He doesn’t think he’ll ever wash it off—or, at least, he wouldn’t if he had a choice. He knows that he has to shower sometime soon, but surely he can put that off for a bit, right?

Once you’re finished with your coloring, you cap the highlighter, and set it down next to the others you’ve discarded. You turn Ghost’s arm the tiniest bit towards him so that he can see your work better. 

“‘s it good?” You ask quietly, watching intently for Ghost’s reaction. He looks over your coloring job and hums approvingly. 

“It’s amazing, I love it,” He assures you, smiling down softly at you, “You did great.” 

You seem to preen at the praise, and you take your hand off of Ghost’s arm, moving to put in your lap. You’re keeping yourself very contained, Ghost notices, Why? 

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears you yawn, and you quickly move to cover your mouth as you do. He’s reminded that it’s almost twenty-two hundred, and while that usually wouldn’t be an issue for him, it’s an issue for you. You originally came to the 141 as someone who had a sleep schedule almost as fucked up at Ghost’s, but soon developed a habit of going to sleep somewhat early considering the training you had in the morning. So, now you get tired anywhere from eighteen-hundred to twenty-one hundred. After that, your only goal is to find somewhere to sleep. 

“Sleepy?” You nod tiredly, making Ghost coo, Ghost, the man who quite literally haunts some people’s nightmares, coos at you, “Aw, of course you are, sweetheart. Pretty sure it’s way past your bedtime by now.” 

“Nuh uh,” You deny, making Ghost chuckle. 

“‘Nuh uh’?” He asks, amused, “What d’you mean ‘nuh uh’?” 

“No b’dtime,” You shortly elaborate. 

“Ohhh, okay,” Ghost feigns realization, “You think you’re too big for a bedtime, huh?” 

“Mhm. Way too big.”

“I dunno about ‘way’ too big,” Ghost hums, checking to see if the highlighter on his arm has dried before he pulls his sleeve back down. “You seem pretty little to me.” 

“No,” You whine, dragging out the ‘o’, “Not lil’.” 

“Hmm… you sure, kiddo?” Ghost asks, “So if I ask you if you need to go to bed, you’re gonna say ‘no’?” 

That makes you hesitate, and Ghost almost thinks he’s won, before your own pettiness wins and you nod affirmatively. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Alright, well, you’ve gotta sleep at some point,” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. 

You think this over for a second, and he watches as you look over him for a moment before looking down at his lap, then looking back up at him. He can already tell there’s some sort of plan forming in your mind.  Wordlessly, you get up, and Ghost does nothing to stop you as you decide to just plop yourself down into his lap. You straddle his thighs, moving until you’re sitting comfortably on him, and then let yourself slump forward so that your face is resting in the crook of his neck. It takes him a moment to process what just happened, before he laughs lightly and wraps both of his arms around you to keep you in place. 

“Oh, okay,” He grins, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you just wanna cuddle with me until you fall asleep? Is that what this is?” 

He feels you nod against his neck, and his grin grows as he rubs one hand against your back, trying to soothe you to sleep. He doesn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract you from your attempts to sleep anymore, simply letting you stay slumped against him. Your breathing wasn’t too fast-paced to begin with, but as you relax even more in his arms, he can feel your breathing even out. 

You’re falling asleep fairly quickly, and the only complaint he has is that he didn’t get to spend nearly as much time as he wanted to with you while you were awake and regressed. 

Once he’s sure you’re barely awake, he murmurs, “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?” 

— 

You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the slight rustling of clothes, and then you feel yourself moving up. 

Your mind still feels foggy and you can tell you’re still somewhat in that younger mindset of yours, but now you’re significantly less bothered by it than you were before. You’re awake enough to be aware of what’s happening, always having been a light-sleeper, but not awake enough to know exactly what’s happening. You don’t dare open your eyes, and try to keep your breathing even—though that isn’t much of a challenge. 

That headache that had been building up earlier has fully disappeared, thank God, and you no longer feel the tension in your shoulder that you’d been unconsciously carrying. 

You can sort of feel someone’s arms snaked under your back, and you know that you’re being moved somewhere. Quickly, you remember that it’s Ghost carrying you, and that you had fallen asleep on him, much to your embarrassment. Or, at least, it would be much to your embarrassment if you had the mental capacity to feel embarrassed about that right now. But you feel so comfy and so safe that it really doesn’t matter to you right now. 

You can hear the clicking of Ghost’s boots against the concrete floors of the hallway, and he’s carrying you off somewhere; you imagine that somewhere to be your sleeping quarters. He’s walking pretty fast, not hurriedly but still at a somewhat fast pace. 

Soon, he reaches a stopping point where he has to awkwardly put one leg up to support your back on his thigh as he quickly reaches one arm out to turn the knob of the door to your sleeping quarters and pulls that arm right back to support your back again. He sighs as he puts his foot back down, kicking open the door and walking in. 

He’s quick to reach your bed, and he pauses as he considers what to do. You can practically hear him thinking, wondering how he’s gonna get you under the covers while he’s still carrying you, and for a second you think about showing him you’re awake so that things are easier for him before he sets you down on the bed. 

He pulls the covers up and stops when he reaches the part your body covers, and picks you back up, before dropping you right back off where the blankets have been pulled away. He pulls the covers back over you. 

After a few moments, you think he’s left the room, before you hear the rustling of fabric and feel him leaning down. He gently presses his lips to your forehead and pulls away after a second or two, before quietly mumbling, “Night, kiddo.”

He stays there for a moment before you hear his footsteps leave the room, and then the door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the room entirely. 

You’re quick to fall asleep after that.

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #ghost #age regression #caregiver ghost #ghost x reader #platonic ghost x reader #platonic ghost #i find him so lovely #hes my dad guys trust #i was literally meant to be his kid #trust that if i ever get any cod games with him in it i will spend the whole time admiring him #dad pls come back home #i miss u #python333

[wonlovie]

— ON THIN ICE.

After a nasty fall, you, world-renowned figure skater and stealer of hearts, are forced into an early retirement. But with a boyfriend who’s the star player in one of Korea’s leading hockey teams and a friend group of trending skaters who refuse to leave you in the dust, the cameras stay on. So, how are you supposed to keep it a secret when Yang Jungwon, your boyfriend’s publicly declared rival and enemy, decides you’re his next target?

— starring. hockey-player!jungwon x ex-figure-skater!reader, ft. enhypen as jungwon’s teammates, le sserafim’s yunjin and itzy’s ryujin as reader’s friends, oc as reader’s boyfriend

— tags. my super unfunny humour, some kys/kms jokes, they joke abt jake being 'dead' but he's not, smau, minor angst, fluff, kind of but not really enemies-to-lovers, slowburn, some mature content in later chapters: [cheating (not by jungwon or reader), brief depiction of drunken assault, nothing nsfw] tags will be updated as needed

— status. in progress [started 2023/09/03]

— update schedule. every sunday and thursday! bonus chapters may be posted at any time :)

— notes. my first smau !! this was originally thought of with stray kid’s han in mind but that was many months ago LOL the plot and everything has since been revamped and reimagined for jungwon so hopefully u all like it ! :)

— teaser. blossom!

— profiles. pretty ICY || jungwon + his six kids

— content.

PROLOGUE. don't drag me down

ONE. #pushkids

TWO. yoon's hit list [smau + written ~0.8k]

THREE. JUNGWON GET HIS ASS

FOUR. respect for the lil guy

⇀ BONUS CHAPTER. the fight [written ~1.5k]

FIVE. uh,,, oops

SIX. embarrassing

SEVEN. no one ditches movie night

EIGHT. we're lying to each other now?

NINE. i'm literally gonna get violent (smau + written ~1.1k)

TEN.

ELEVEN.

TWELVE.

THIRTEEN.

FOURTEEN.

.

.

.

to be updated

taglist [open! send an ask or reply to be added // bolded cannot be tagged]

@jiawji @lovelovelovebts @enhacatalog @manooffline @delulu4-life @sooshibot @nwjws @lilriswife4life @maimoirs @shinrjj @bluxjun @aylin-hijabi @luviehyck @y0ubleedjusttoknowyourealive @jngwnlvs @jaeyunsleftnostril @pansies-garden @ilovecheese09 @enhaz1 @amesification @woncine @zellypop-main @underneaththestarlight @gg1609 @glitterssim @sunukissed @in-somnias-world @catsyoon @angigls @ladyartemesia @clairecottenheart @beatr2x @sunghoonsfeethair @en-happiness @woncheecks

*if you cannot be tagged, your visibility may be turned off! tumblr also doesn’t allow users to tag new blogs sometimes. i will periodically retry tagging you if your user is bolded!

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

#wonlovie #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen smau #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon x reader #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #jungwon smau #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon scenarios #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon angst #yang jungwon smau

[lgbtlunaverse]

heads- up: someone is taking jc-centric fics and turning them into jc-bashing wangxian fics

I don't usually like to bring twitter drama over to tumblr but since the perpetrator in this case explicitly said they do this ON TUMBLR I felt it was pertinent to do so.

Today user DyuaLan on twitter, aka @jiaoji on tumblr, publically bragged about finding chengxian, xicheng, and zhanzheng fics and changing the names to make them wangxian fics with jiang cheng bashing.

When authors (understandably) reacted to this by blocking them, they boasted about still having 15 stolen fics in their drafts on top of the ones they've already posted.

And that they do all of this stuff on tumblr anyway, not twitter

If you have written any kind of Jiang Cheng ships, or Jiang Cheng-centric fic in general, and are not a fan of your work being stolen, it's in your best interest to block them.

They also said that they block everyone they steal from. Though if you go to the blog now and are blocked, please don't panic, that might just be for fanwar reasons.

Here's proof that DyuaLan is in fact the same person as Jiaoji:

(@jiaoji and @jiaoji2 lead to the same blog, it was probably called this because they at some point lost access/moved from their previous blog @jiao-ji)

And here jiaoji is bragging on their tumblr about feeling too lazy to even rewrite someone else's work

Their ao3 is "Jiao_ji" where they have 16 works total, most of which are in portuguese, making it harder to verify which ones are stolen, as a lot of their "sources" are probably in english. (Most of the fics they have written on tumblr itself are also in english) They also have a wattpad account with the url "Dilf_ji"

As a bonus here they are 2 years ago whining about zhancheng authors blocking them because it means they can no longer steal their fics, this has been going on for a while.

And talking a bit more about stealing from chengxian and zhancheng authors:

While I haven't written any jiang cheng ships, I am a fic writer, and I know the work that goes into it. I can work on a single oneshot for months on end. So this kind of attitude, where if you hate a ship the author's work is just free for the taking, is appaling to me. Inspiration is normal, fandom is inherently transformative. Hell, ao3 has a "works inspired by" function for exactly that. But wholesale lifting someone's else's writing, only changing the ship and adding salt about a character you hate? Yeah, no. "Character bashing" fics aren't my cup of tea in the first place, but if you're going to do it, at least have the decency to write the damn things yourself.

I don't like doing callouts, so while I know that I can't really control anyone else's actions, I want to say for my own peace of mind... please just block this person. I don't wanna cause even more discourse. Remember: you don't feed trolls. I posted this because i think writers deserve to be warned when someone is maliciously stealing and editing their work, not to instigate harassment.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #discourse #complaining and whining about fandom #fanfiction #long post #they seem to have a decently sized following so there's a chance you're reading this and already know them #because you read and enjoyed their wangxian fics... sorry. those might in fact not have been theirs

[brownsugarwrites]

Superstar

★ pairings: Johnny cage x black!fem!actress!reader

★ warnings: fluff & smut. bossy head strong reader, smug bastard johnny, enemies to lovers, oral (f!receiving). they have sex idk what else to say. sub!reader. creampie. one night stand elements. dirty talk & pet names. maybe a bit of brat taming? squirting. written with a black reader in mind but anyone can read!

★ wc: 2.6k (wow!)

★ dedicated to @lxnarphase

“Is there any way for this car to go faster?” you asked impatiently. 

“No, ma’am, I'm sorry traffic is horrible,” your driver told you sympathetically. 

Rolling your eyes, you continued typing the email to your casting agent, letting them know you would be late. Not that you really cared or anything, but it was still considerate to let them know you wouldn't be on time. 

This was your life. Going to casting meetings and getting scripts. You just wrapped up one of your movies about two months ago, and now you were onto the next one. 

Finally, pulling into the movie studio's lot, the driver drove to the main building where all the meetings occurred. As you pulled up, you grabbed your purse, stepped out of the vehicle, and walked to your destination.

Asking for directions, you go to the elevators and wait for it. Growing anxious, the elevator pinged and opened its wide doors.

Stepping onto it, you pressed the button before taking out your phone to see the exact room for the meeting.

Stepping off the elevator, your heels echoed throughout the hall as you approached the room.

Opening the glass door, the director greeted you first. 

“I'm so glad you were able to make it! Please have a seat.” 

“This is who we were waiting on?” you heard a smug familiar voice say 

Snapping your head in that direction, you rolled your eyes before scoffing loudly.

“Is there a problem-”

“Yes, there is a problem. Dont tell me this is my co-star?” you asked with annoyance. 

Johnny Cage. Seasoned actor who has a long rapport with Oscars, Golden Globes, and even some Emmys. He was arrogant and big-headed. You didn't like him from a movie you did a while ago, even though it was a small cameo. 

“Dont be like that, sweetheart. I sure we can put the past behind us and focus on the movie?” he said with a smirk playing on his face.

Rolling your eyes for the third time today, you walk to the table and sit next to one of the writers. 

After the meeting, you stood off to the side, waiting to talk to your agent to ask why she put you in this situation, knowing the beef you had with your co-star. 

“Looking good, as always, superstar,” Johnny complimented, walking up to you. 

Even with your stilettos on, he still hovered over you so slightly that you had to stare up at him. 

“Just stay out of my way, Cage,” you scoffed, crossing your arms. 

“I don't think that’s possible with us being leads in the same movie.”

“I'm not going to repeat myself,” you retorted.

“Dont have to, superstar. I'm excited to work with you again, sweetheart,” he said before putting his sunglasses back on his face and walking away.

Watching him leave the boardroom room, your casting agent walked over to you. 

“So.. are you guys made up?” she asked with a grin.

“Dont make me fire you.” you snapped, not thinking her joke was amusing. 

Watching her face drop in fear, you strode towards the door and left the building. 

When it was finally time for filming, you were greeted with a vase of hydrangeas in your makeup trailer. Opening the note with the initials J.C on it, you tore the paper and threw it into the garbage can.

“Did ya get my flowers, superstar?” Johnny asked as you walked onto the set.

“I did. Thanks, I guess,” you responded flatly.

Smiling, his voice boomed throughout the studio, letting the crew know he was ready to shoot.

This became the routine. Sometimes, you and Johnny would have good and bad days. But the good started to outweigh the bad, and you tolerated him a bit more throughout this journey. 

He felt the same about you. He wouldn't tell anyone about his crush on his co-star. He felt like a little kid teasing you and annoying you just so that you would give him your undivided attention. As juvenile as it sounded, it worked. Seeing you get so annoyed with him really gave him the satisfaction of driving you crazy. It was all a part of his plan to make you his girlfriend finally.

Hearing a knock on your trailer door, you invite the person in

“I would say someone is warming up to me.” You heard the familiar voice as he walked in. 

Scoffing playfully, you asked what he wanted.

“Just bored and wanted to see my pretty co-star. Do you have a problem with that?” he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. 

Seeing that he was shirtless with the robe barely covering his chest, giving you a peek of his abs, you felt a sweat drip down your forehead.

Shaking your head no, you released a shaky breath, feeling him inch closer to you. 

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he asked, arrogance in his tone.

“Oh shut up.” you simply said before looking away, feeling your cheeks warm up in embarrassment, 

“Wow, am I making my superstar nervous right now? That’s new,” he teased, face coming closer to yours.

“My superstar” had you weak in the knees. You were sure you would fall onto the ground if you stood up. 

He was toying with you, and you needed to fight back the best way you could.

“No, I'm not nervous, Johnny. Why are you so fucking close?” you asked, trying to keep your guard up and turning to meet his eyes. 

“Cause maybe I think you're gorgeous, and I wanna get a better look at you,” he replied smugly. 

Rolling your eyes, the two of you sat silently, feeling the thick tension clouding over you. His face came closer to you as you felt your breath synch with his. Your eyes fluttered close, accepting whatever was about to happen.

“We need you on set in five minutes,” you heard one of the production assistants yell through the door.

Eyes shooting open, you jump away before apologizing and look out, feeling your face burn up. 

“Dont apologize. Come on, they need us on set,” he said with a wink, taking your hand in his 

Snatching your hand away, you got up and left your trailer. Johnny trailed behind you with a sly smile on his face.

Three and a half months later, you were finally done filming. Feeling a weight leave your shoulders, you congratulated the crew members on their achievements.

“I had fun working with you, superstar. You almost did as good as me,” he joked.

Smacking your lips, you looked at him in shock. “Almost as good as you? I'm pretty sure I did as good as you, maybe even better,” you jabbed back. 

“Well, how about we celebrate? That new lounge just opened downtown. Meet there tonight?” he asked, giving puppy dog eyes. 

“Sure, I could go for a glass of wine or two. 8:30.” 

***

8:50. You’re twenty minutes late even though you chose the time to meet him. Sitting in the section he brought for the two of you, he pulled out his phone to see if you were still coming out tonight. 

Looking up, he saw you walking in with your thigh-high boots on with the tight black dress, hugging you tight as you carried your Chanel purse over your shoulder. 

“You must have a thing for being late, sweetheart,” he teased, grabbing your hand to help you not trip over your feet.

“I'm here, aren't I?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

What would he give to make those pretty eyes roll behind your pretty head

“I had them put your wine on ice. I think it's warm now.” 

“Eh, I’ll be ok. Thank you for inviting me out.” you thanked him.

As the night went on, the two of you joked and conversed about things going on in your daily life. What new brand deals have the two of you got down to, and what have you all made for dinner this week. 

You could feel the tension between the two of you, especially with the way he placed his big hand upon your plush thigh, giving it teasing squeezes.

“Take me to the bathroom?” you asked. 

Grabbing his hand, you led the way to the bathroom. He waited for you outside as you went into the bathroom.

Coming out, you stood before him, peering up at him with your big brown eyes. Grabbing your face, you felt his soft lips placed upon yours. It may have been the drinks talking, but you wanted him.

“Tell me you want this as much as me,” he whispered in your ear before kissing along your neck, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Yes, b-but not here. Papz might be watchin',” you whimpered. 

Taking note, he let you lead the way as you walked out of the club to get to his sports car, trying not to get caught by the sneaky paparazzi.

“Nice car,” you complimented, walking up to his matte black Maserati as he opened the door for you. 

 Giving you a tap on your ass, he thanked you before closing the door after making sure you got in ok.

The car ride seemed like it took forever, even with Johnny exceeding the speed limit, to get to his house. Feeling the needy grip on your thigh was driving you crazy. Biting your lip in anxiousness, you started to scroll on your phone so you did not think about the current climate in the car.

Finally pulling into the garage with his other cars, he quickly turned off the engine as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you could open the door to get out of the vehicle, Johnny beat you to it before lifting you out of the car bridal style and taking you into his mansion.

Fighting with the door that led inside his house, he grunted in annoyance. 

“Why dont you put me down-” you asked, trying to give a solution.

“Because if I put you down, I'm fucking you in this garage, and a lady like you should be fucked properly.” he simply responded, finally getting the door to open.

Stepping inside with you in hand, he closed the door with his foot before taking you up the stairs that led to the bedroom. 

Kissing you with fever, he placed you on the bed gently as you started to tug off his shirt. You felt yourself growing more aroused as he moved down to your neck, gently sucking on it. 

Mewling softly, you pulled him away from your neck so that he could take off his clothes. 

“Nun uh sweetheart. Dont be impatient,” he instructed you as he moved down towards your legs to take your shoes off.

Once your shoes were discarded, he began to litter kisses upon your leg leading up to your inner thigh before coming dangerously close to your clothed, needy cunt.

Withering away, his grip on your legs became tighter as he held you in place, fighting your urge to run away. Lifting your dress, he was met with the blue lace trim underwear. Pulling them to the side swiftly, he smiled at the way it glistened before putting his fingers on your sticky clit and rubbing circles on it. 

Mewling in response, he replaced his fingers with his mouth before sucking on your pussy and running his tongue between your folds. Thick thighs squished his ears as he continued his assault on you, hearing your muffled moans as your nails raked through his hair, tugging on it lightly.

He was in heaven. In between your thighs was where he belonged, listening to the way you whimpered for more, feeling you come close to your first orgasm of the night. Feeling his pants tighten around his dick as you begged him to let you cum. Bringing his calloused fingers back to your puffy clit he began to make small circles on it feeling you shake slightly as your orgasm washed over you. 

Releasing your legs from his grip, he watched as your chest rose and fell as you tried to think about your current predicament. Not having a chance to let your brain catch up, you feel Johnny hover over you to take off your dress, revealing the matching lace bra that held your tits with the piercings on them.

“If I knew any better, I would think you planned on me to fuck you,” he chuckled before unbuckling his pants, letting you see his hard-on as it could barely be contained in his boxers before squeezing it.

“Fuck you look so sexy like this,” he said as he reached to pull your panties off, being mesmerized by a string of slick connected to your underwear, throwing them on the floor before taking off his own. Hearing the way his long, girthy dick stood at attention. 

Feeling embarrassed, he kissed your temple, loving the way you shivered under him.

“You’re awfully quiet, doll,” he whispered. 

“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you actually going to fuck me” you spat quietly in his ear.

Kissing his teeth, he gave your needy pussy a few slaps before bucking into you. His pace started off relentless as his balls collided with your thighs; as the loud, squelchy sounds started to flood the room.

“F-fuck.” you moaned, hands coming to play with your clit as he continued fucking into you. 

“S-shit, that's it, sweetheart. Keep playing with that pretty clit for me,” he groaned out, lips going in between his teeth as you clenched down for me. 

You felt yourself about to cum again. Drawing tighter circles on yourself, you began to cry for release.

“Cumming again, baby? Fuck” he asked with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I-i need it. Johnny, please let me cum” you squirmed, feeling it becomes too much for you. 

“You can cum, my superstar.” he fought out, feeling you clench down on him.

Hearing you squeal, you lay on the bed breathless and dizzy, some small pieces of your hair sticking onto your sweaty body.

“You have no idea the things you do to me,” he said, kissing you deeply. 

Soon after, he was flipping you over to your knees, making you arch your body so that your ass was in the sky. You felt vulnerable as you looked back at him, sticking his angry flush tip and inserting your weeping pussy again.

“Next time, I should try your wrist together and fuck you like this all night,” he grunted as he pushed your back further into its arch, beginning to fuck you again.

Trying to catch onto his rhythm, you began to rock your hips back and forth, trying to meet his thrusts. Grabbing a handful of your ass, hit bit his lip in pleasure, accepting your thrusts.

“You‘re gonna make me cum. Fuck” he moaned out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You can cum inside,” you whispered. 

Feeling something animalistic turn on in him, he started to fuck you deeper as he was nearing his release. 

“S-say it again for me,” he asked. 

“Inside, you can cum inside,” you responded louder this time.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he grunted.

Feeling a bubbling pressure in your abdomen, you knew you were close again. Not giving a chance to warn Johnny, you felt a warm liquid trickle down your thighs as your legs shook.

Feeling squirt on his dick had him seeing stars as he delivered one last thrust before ropes of thick cum filled your cunt.

Falling onto the bed, you drooled onto the pillow, feeling your eyes get heavier by the second. Instantly, you felt a pair of warm arms cradle you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet as you heard water running into the tub. The smells of lavender and vanilla filled your nose as you attempted to keep your eyes open. 

Feeling yourself get picked up again, placed into the warm water, and feeling a structured body come behind you as you lay on it. 

“Did so good for me, sweetheart. My superstar,” he said, kissing your temple as you nodded off. 

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #johnny cage x you #johnny cage mk #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #johnny cage x black reader #mortal kombat x black!reader

[skalfy]

A Poorly Planned Escape

Misa x Reader, ~2k words, part 1/?

hey so I wrote this and I thought why not post it. I've started writing the next part already, so I'll probably post that as well if there is any interest. It didn't start out as being about Misa, but I got partway in and thought "yeah that's definitely about Misa" so here we are. Don't be confused by María, it should become clear that it's misa, not one of the other marías lol. Also my spanish is limited to two semesters several years ago in college, so all dialogue is written in english, but in my mind they are speaking spanish.

I've written things before, but not like this and not posted, so apologies in advance for things like messed up formatting. Also not proofread, but such is life. Enjoy!

no smut, but some general descriptions of people hooking up

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting as shouldered your way into your flat, hands full of leftovers your mum had insisted you take back for Alma, your girlfriend. Probably her form on the sofa, tv bright with one of the Spanish reality shows she preferred. Maybe even a dark, quiet room if Alma was out with her friends, something she seemed increasingly inclined toward the last few months. You certainly weren’t prepared for the sight that did greet you.

Your girlfriend was draped rather artfully across the plush sofa, head thrown back and eyes shut, a position not unfamiliar to you. In fact, the only thing really unfamiliar at all was the stranger who knelt between your girlfriend’s legs. Her smooth, broad shoulders and bowed head obscured the rather intimate details of what was taking place, but between the sounds and the way Alma’s fingers were gripping the stranger’s dark hair, it wasn’t hard to guess. You were frozen in the doorway, watching the ripple of muscle under tan skin as she slid her palms up to your girlfriend’s hips to hold her down, pressing her firmly into the couch. You wondered for a moment what hands that big might feel like against your own hips, shaking your head suddenly when you realized the absurdity of that thought.

After a deep breath to compose yourself, you kicked your heel firmly back into the door, slamming it shut behind you. Both bodies stilled, but it only took a moment before Alma’s head snapped up and her eyes met yours. You turned away, willing your shoulders to stay down and relaxed as you walked to the refrigerator.

“Sorry to interrupt, but my parents say hello. I’m putting the leftovers from dinner in the fridge, please have some. I’m sure you’ve worked up an appetite.” You said, back still turned and only a slight waver in your voice. “I think I’ll head out and stay with one of the girls tonight, just need to grab a few things.” Alma didn’t reply.

As you walked into your shared bedroom, you heard a soft voice ask “your roommate?” Alma didn’t reply to that either.

--

When you emerged a few minutes later, overnight bag over your shoulder, only Alma sat on the sofa. She had clothes on now, shorts she must have been wearing before and a hoodie of yours that had been across the back of one of the sitting room chairs. You resisted the urge to snap at her to take it off.

“I just don’t understand, Alma. I know things haven’t been great, but why didn’t you just say something?” Even as you spoke you knew it didn’t really matter. There was no going back from this and you didn’t need your feelings hurt by whatever reasons she gave. You sighed and turned toward the door again. “I’ll call you to sort things out once I’ve calmed down.”

You thought she wouldn’t say anything at all, but as your hand grasped the doorknob, she finally spoke, “Are we done?”

“Yeah, Alma, I think we are.” You pulled the door open and left.

--

When the elevator doors opened at the ground floor of your building, you were surprised to see a familiar figure. She was fully clothed now, but the broad shoulders and thick, wavy hair were unmistakable to you. She half turned as you stepped into the lobby, dark eyes meeting yours. You expected her to look away, but instead she held the eye contact. She was striking--beautiful, but intimidating, all heavy eyebrows and unreadable expression.

“I’m sorry.” She said, still not looking away.

“Did you know she had a girlfriend?” You asked.

“No.” She shook her head.

“Then it wasn’t your fault.” You gave a half smile. “I thought you might be trying to escape my wrath, but it looks like you didn’t get far.”

At this she finally looked away, shrugging a little uncomfortably as she answered, “My phone is dead, and I-- well, I’m still figuring the escape out.”

“I can give you a ride home.” You spoke without thinking, regretting it when the silence stretched afterwards. “I’m leaving anyway, and I promise I won’t try to kill you or anything.”

“If you’re sure, I’d really appreciate it.” She said, a smile breaking across her face, “I wouldn’t blame you if you tried to kill me just a little bit, though.”

For a moment, all you could do was stare at her face. The bright smile had turned it from intimidating to adorable, and you were having a difficult time collecting your thoughts with those particularly lethal dimples shining at you. You flashed her a soft smile of your own and gestured to the door.

“Come on then, follow me.”

--

Once the two of you were seated in your car, you plugged her address into the nav, then scrounged up a charging cable and passed that over to her. Fortunately, her home was near the friend you intended to crash with, so your extra passenger hardly took you out of your way at all. You sent a quick text to your friend letting her know you’d be at her place in around 30 minutes, then put your phone down and backed out of your spot.

The first couple minutes on the road were quiet, just the muffled sound from the city around you mixed with the playlist you’d started and turned down to play quietly. As you sat at a traffic light, you turned for a moment to the woman sitting next to you.

“You know, we haven’t actually introduced ourselves.” You told her your name, then held out your hand for a handshake with mock seriousness. She grasped your hand firmly, mirroring your serious expression and replied,

“I’m María, it’s nice to meet you.”

That opened up the conversation, and the two of you began to chat. It was mostly surface level, but you found yourself actually enjoying it. María was witty and interesting, but most of all she seemed to truly want to listen what you had to say. She was impressed when you described how you had moved to Madrid from London for work right out of uni, explaining that she had at times considered leaving Spain for her own job, but had worried about unfamiliar places and languages. She understood what it was like to live a plane ride away from family, with her parents back in Tenerife. You were happy to ply her with questions about her beautiful homeland, mentally planning a trip there after hearing about the gorgeous beaches and scenery. It wasn’t until María asked her next question that you realized there was a new predicament you were in.

“I think you mentioned dinner with your parents, are they visiting?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “they are here for a week, along with my sister and her husband and their daughter. They aren’t really here to visit me, but it’s a nice bonus. I’m actually taking my niece to-- oh fuck!” You cut yourself off with the exclamation.

“What, what’s wrong?” María asked, startled.

“I was supposed to take my niece to a football game this weekend, she is a huge Real Madrid fan, loves women’s footy. Except I’m now realizing this is a mess, because the only way I could get tickets was a favor from Alma. Her company has a box, and I begged her to get two seats for Luisa and I, but now even if she still lets me use them there’s no way we can sit with all my ex-girlfriend’s coworkers. If I know her at all then at least half of them will have heard all about this by lunch tomorrow, and I don’t think I want my eleven year old niece there to find out how much of the truth she tells.” Your eyes suddenly stung as you tried to take a deep breath. “Sorry, I just realized I’m not sure I can take getting cheated on and being a shitty aunt all in one week.”

“Please don’t apologise for being upset, clearly the only person in this car who should be allowed to say sorry is me.” You managed a sniffle and a small smile at her words. “Also, I definitely can’t fix the first part,” this caught you off guard and you couldn’t stifle a surprised snort, “but I think I can help with the second.”

“María it’s okay, you don’t owe me anything. Plus the game has been sold out for weeks, it’s El Clásico, I already tried to buy tickets before I asked Alma in the first place.” You could feel your voice wavering and fought against the tears. María was quiet in the seat next to you as you pulled up outside her building. You shifted into first and turned the car off, then felt a hesitant hand cover yours on the gearstick.

“I can get you two tickets if you want them, I promise. I work for Real Madrid and there are tickets set aside for us.” She sounded almost desperate.

“I can’t ask you to do that--” you started, then she cut you off.

“I wouldn’t have used them anyway! Please let me do this.” You looked at the big hand on yours, then up at her face. “Not for you, but for an eleven year old girl who loves women’s football.” She had you there and she knew it.

“Yes. Yes, fine!” You smiled at her. “Thank you, María.”

She smiled back at you, then lifted her hand from yours, reaching it up to thumb away the rebellious tear that had made it onto your cheek. You acted on instinct and reached both of your arms out to her shoulders, pulling her into an awkward hug across the car’s center console. She didn’t seem to mind the uncoordinated attempt, accepting it with grace and tucking your head neatly into her shoulder. As she held you there, the most ridiculous thought of the night crossed your mind. Why had Alma cheated on you with María? She wasn’t Alma’s type at all, she was yours.

The two of you separated after another moment, and María pulled her phone out.

“Can you text yourself so I have your number? That way I can let you know where to go to pick the tickets up.” You nodded and did as instructed, sending yourself her name, then replying with yours so neither of you would have any trouble identifying the new number.

“Please let me know if I owe you anything. I know you said the tickets are set aside, but if they cost you then please let me at least cover that.” You got the sense that she would be the type to not mention that if it were the case.

“They normally don’t charge me anything, but I promise I’ll tell you if they do.” She met your eyes and winked-- whether that meant she was trying to reassure you or just that she wasn’t going to make you pay either way you weren’t sure, but you let it go. “One more thing, does Luisa have a favorite player? No guarantees, but I might be able to leave something for her with the ticket agent. The players are usually happy to do something like that.”

“Only if it’s no trouble.” You leveled her with a glare. “She’s always on about Hayley Raso and Linda Caicedo, so either of them’s probably a safe bet.”

“Only if it’s no trouble.” She agreed, with what she must have thought was an innocent expression on her face.

“Please get out of my car before you offer to do anything else for Luisa that will leave me severely in your debt.” You pointed out toward her flat then made a shooing motion with your hand. She huffed out a chuckle then opened her door.

“Thank you for the ride… and for not killing me when you had the chance. Look out for my text!”

With that she hopped out and shut the car door. You watched as she walked up to the building entrance, turned and waved, then stepped inside. After a deep breath, you turned your car back on and drove the last few minutes to your friend’s house.

#woso x reader #misa rodriguez x reader #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #woso imagine

[missmists]

First bookbinding project a success. I think that my cat approves because he would not stay out of my photos. Five months in the making, but I couldn't be more pleased with the results.

I started with @armoredsuperheavy's amazing fanbinding tutorial to create a typeset of each work in @erisenyo's Burning Bright AU published on Ao3. Then had to reread the works in the new format and edit as I went to make sure everything was formatted correctly, (combined word count somewhere around 1.3 million) that took over a month all by itself.

I picked up a copy of Introduction to Bookbinding & Custom Cases by Tom and Cindy Hollander from my local library, to look at some detailed how to images and get multiple perspectives on construction methods. Excellent book, I do recommend.

My hunt for materials included a trip to Detroit with a side stop at Blick to look at decorative papers in person. Blick and the fine people at Hollander’s ended up having everything I needed to make covers. So between my brother kindly 3d printing me a punch cradle, making a DIY sewing frame of my own invention (courtesy of scrap lumber and a trip to the Lowe's hardware department), and three reams of late night printing, I managed to amass all my supplies.

Folding three reams of paper into signatures (the little bundles you sew together) takes about five days if you don't want to lose your mind or your place, and longer if you discover you need to fix things because that definitely happened. Then you get to unfold them to stab holes in them which is as terrifying at first and therapeutic by the end as it sounds.

Next came weeks of sewing books together, a magical process. I learned three new knots, repeatedly stabbed myself (because all forms of creation forcibly demand blood sacrifice) , and felt like I was roleplaying a monastic librarian from the time of Gutenburg. That's 600 years ago, 24ish generations, over 8million ancestors since then (by geometric progression, which excludes the possibility that any of my peasant ancestry is from small towns which is you know likely but I digress) and here I sat sewing pages together in a basement because story is the most sacred of human arts as it binds communities together and shapes perceptions of the self and our brethren, of outsiders allies and enemies, of the world as we know it and as it may come to be. Did I mention sewing books felt magical.

Then came the glue. So much glue. Multiple types of glue. All sticky. all stuck to me. I smeared glue with my fingers like a child.

At last it was time for the covers. Choosing combinations of the decorative papers and bookcloth and making sure I could get enough out of each material for what I needed. Precise cutting so many thanks to the architecture school professors who showed me how to properly cut chipboard. Then measuring and gluing, and more measuring, and more gluing. At last press a little groove by the spine and repeat eleven times.

Then I get to impress all my people with my latest and possibly coolest maker skill unlock, I am a book binder.

Bottom to top in the stack or left to right at the bottom are: These Things Written  These Things Unsaid with Without Consent These Things Known with A Third Chance (or a First) Oh, The Way Your Makeup Stains My Pillowcase That Love You've Been Looking For  All I Need Is To Be Struck (By Your Electric Love) To Open Every Door to Night, To Meet Each Rising Sun (my favorite) Love Is In the Hair (fanart of this one originally lead me to read the series, thanks @ash-and-starlight) Lessons in Proper Asset Management Tangled Up With You  To Be Named, To Be Known (To Be Loved)

#fandom #fanbinding #book binding #book making #zukka #zukka nation #zukka fanfic #avatar #atla #atla azula #atla sokka #atla zuko #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #erisenyo

[jawspinner96]

Arthur morgan x fem reader smut

This is very lazily written, I was struck with inspiration and wrote this in one night, so no nitpicking!!! Pls ignore any typos or sentences that sound a little off. This is also my first time posing smut so !!!

*******

You had an easy job, it wasn't fun but the money was pretty good. All you had to do was offer "Deluxe baths" to strangers. It wasn't the career you drempt of as a child, but a couple months ago you were desperate for work and the hotel owner was nice enough to give you this job, not only is it good pay but you also got a free room out of it.

You've encountered your fair share of creeps during your time here, but the hotel owner proved to be good backup.

"Just hollar if you need my help ma'am,"

And he was always there to save you if need be. However, it wasn't often people accepted so a lot of your job was spent lazing about or cleaning.

This day was like any other, business was slow and you were sat in the lobby of the hotel, reading. The door swung open and the bell rung out which caught your attention. You looked up from your book and fixed your eyes on a tall, rugged man, around six foot-ish. His features were hidden behind a weathered had and short untidy beard.

"Ma'am." The man nodded your way and walked up to the front desk.

"Sir." You nodded back and Continued reading, peaking over the pages to look at the man's figure from behind. His unbuttoned shirt paired with a leather vest accentuated his waist and drew your eyes to his large arms. You felt your face grow warmer the longer you stared.

"Let me get a bath, and a room for the night." His voice was deep and husky, yet it flowed smoothly and sounded like music to your ears.

"Alright sir, I've got someone heating the bath up for you right now. That'll be a dollar fifty"

You watched the man make his way upstairs towards the bathroom before closing your book and heading to your own room to prepare. You applied lipstick, cleaned up your eyeliner and sorted your hair.

"Want some company mister ?" You knocked lightly on the door and waited for his response. You weren't expecting him to accept your proposal so you were shocked to hear him accept. You became rather nervous and unsure as to why you were suddenly so scared. You had done this many times before but something about this man was intimidating.

Slowly, you opened the door and made your way in. A faint smell of lavender filled the humid room and hot steam, highlighted by the rays of sun peeking through the foggy window, danced freely throughout the air.

He had his arms resting on each side of the tub, and his eyes closed, which made you feel slightly more at ease. You sat on a stool next to the bath, by his head and began to talk.

"You look like you've had a long day," you purposely kept your voice hushed and soft.

"You have no idea." He smiled contently as you wet your hands and began to scrub his scalp tenderly.

"Well... nothin a hot bath can't fix." His hair was rough in your palms and you could feel the weeks of dirt clinging to each strand. Despite this, the man didn't smell at all, Infact a rather pleasant, musky aroma emitted from his body.

You began to let your hands wander, settling on his shoulders. You palmed his skin attempting to soothe the spots you thought might be most sore. He leaned his head back, letting out a long, pleased sigh. You could feel him becoming less tense from your touch and smiled a little to yourself, proud of your work.

"Damn, that feels good," He muttered under his breath as you began to massage his arms. You marvled at the feeling of his large biceps under your fingers. "I don't remember the last time I was this relaxed."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you do out there?"

He opened and eye and looked right at you. For a moment you were nervous, did you ask something offensive? However, you were far too flustered by his heavy eye contact to care.

"That's something I prefer to keep to myself ma'am." You apologised and Continued to wash the stranger.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached further into the water to scrub his abdomen, then his legs. You looked up from the water for a second, you almost had a heart attack as your eyes met with his. He watched intently, as you massaged his calves and rinsed the bubbles from his leg. Both of your faces were flushed from the heat, and the tension that filled the air.

"I reckon that's clean enough ma'am," He lightly grabbed your hand and held it in between his own, "Thank you very much."

His eyes stared right through your own and you felt your cheeks burning up, though you couldnt really read his expression.

"You're very welcome Mr...."

"Morgan, Arthur morgan."

You beamed a smile "Well, you're very welcome Mr Morgan."

Swiftly, you exited the room with your heart thumping in your chest and butterflies swirling in your stomach.

As you headed back to your room you couldn't shake the image of his face from your mind. His tired, squinting eyes, soft lips. His brows were bushy and unkempt along with his beard, however the scruffy and tired appearance only added to his charm. You weren't sure you'd ever seen someone so handsome before. His nose was crooked but fit so harmoniously on his face along with all his other features.

You recalled what his skin felt like against yours as you sat on your window sil and day dreamed of his muscular frame and chestnut hair.

*******

"Can I interest you in some tea?" Another part of your job was to ensure the happiness of paying customers and to provide the best service you could.

This meant going round and offering tea to those who were staying the night, sometimes you provided them with dinner if you were feeling generous enough to cook a big batch of food that day.

"Sure, come in." Instantly, you recognised the voice coming from the other side of the door. You heart picked up it's pace as you fumbled with the door knob, all while keeping an eye on your tray of tea.

You entered the room to see Arthur sat on the bed, the setting sun resting perfectly on his face. His hat from before was no where to be seen allowing you to see all his features. Messy strands of hair lay perfectly on his face, framing his eyes and Chisled jaw. You couldn't help but admire the sight, a slight blush forming on your cheeks.

"Here ya'are Mr Morgan," You placed a cup of tea on the side table and put the now empty tray under your arm.

"Call me Arthur." He smiled at you as he took a sip of the hot beverage, "I was hopin I'd see you again ma'am."

"Is that right?" A smirk creeped upon your face and you felt those Butterflies from before beginning to awake in your stomach. You playfully responded, "Well i'm glad you enjoyed My services so much Mr Mo- Arthur."

A laugh escaped his nose and he looked down to take another sip of tea.

"Well, I'll be on my way now. Hollar at me if you need anythin'." Nervously, You turned on your heel and made your way to the door before Arthur spoke up again.

"Wait," you stopped in your tracks and turned to face Arthur who was now making his way towards you. The speed of your heart rate picked you thought it'd jump out of your chest and ran away if it could.

Arthur stopped, just meer centimetres away. He towered over you causing a confusing mixture of emotions, your head was spinning.

His eyes scanned your face, your quivering lips and eyes, which darted frantically around the room, avoiding any sort of eye contact. You swallowed as his eyes wandered to your lips. His mouth parted slightly and his breath grew heavier before he began to speak again.

"Am i scaring you, miss?" His voice seemed sweet, filled with concern though you couldn't help but notice sinister undertone in the way he spoke.

You plucked up the courage to look him in his eye before responding, "No.."

You were unsure of your own answer amd he could tell. He smiled slightly at that, hesitantly rasing a hand to your chin, "Would you mind if I.."

His lips parted further as they searched for your own, your eyes fluttering shut as you both made contact. His free hand snaked around your waist as you reached up around his neck, causing you to drop the tea tray on the floor.

He pulled away for a second, gazing into your eyes as his hand held the side of your cheek. Your heart pounded, and you longed to kiss him again. How was this stranger making you feel this way?

You brought him back in for another kiss, this time you were hungry for it and he was too. You moved together rhythmically and passionately. Your bodies backed up aggressively against the bedroom door, slamming it shut.

A gasp left your mouth, as he removed your hands from his neck and pinned them both at either side of your head against the door. The sudden movement made you knees grow weeker and you felt yourself buckling underneath him.

He was strong, you couldn't escape his grip if you tried, not that you wanted to. He raised both your arms above your head and held your wrists in place with one hand.

His free hand began to explore your body, cupping a breast through your blouse. You could feel the smirk on his lips as a slight moan left your mouth.

His hand travelled further down, to your skirt, and he began to lift up the fabric to reach your thigh from underneath.

You could already feel yourself becoming increasingly wetter, and the sensation of his rough palms groping your skin made you only more aroused. His fingers moved further up to your panties and he began to tease your clit through your soaked underwear, forcing a pathetic whine from your lips.

"Damn girl," He laughed a husky laugh mockingly "I've bearly touched you."

Your cunt ached as you squeezed your legs together while he continued to play with your clit, using his thumb to rub painfully slow circles around it.

"F-fuck..." You found yourself unable to say anything in response only growing weaker to his touch.

His fingers hooked against your underwear and slowly he began to pull them down your legs, while he brought your mouth to his for another kiss, his tongue intertwining with yours.

His hand palmed your pussy while the other continued to hold you in place. You squirmed as he slid two fingers into your cunt and began to slowly pump them in and out of you.

Lewd noises filled the room as he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. Eventually, he let go of your wrists, causing you to collapse against his chest while he continued to play with your cunt. He rested his free hand On the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

You moans grew louder as you found yourself closer to climax. He stopped moving abruptly, which made you cry out a little. He chuckled slightly as you began to grind against his fingers, desperately needing to cum.

"Easy girl..." You buried your head in his chest as he once again began to move his fingers in that same rhythm that had brought you so close to orgasm before.

You eyes rolled back and you squeezed your hands into fists against his body, unsure of what to do with yourself as he continued to pump in and out of you mercilessly.

Eventually the coil in your stomach snapped and you found yourself spasming around his fingers. Your legs shook as you came into the palm of his hand, your vision went white and all comprehansive thoughts in your head had vanished. You moaned his name, loudly, sqeezing your eyes shut as he guided you through your orgasm. He removed his hand from under you skirt and let go of you, causing you you to collapse on the ground.

"Damn, your pathetic," He laughed at your feeble position and you had never felt so vulnerable, humiliated or turned on. "Don't worry girl, we ain't finished."

You panted on the floor as he stood over you. You couldn't believe what had just happened. Arthur had seemed so sweet before, but now it seemed he was getting off on your neediness.

You looked up and watched as he began to unzip his pants and pull out his cock. The size made you a little nervous but you could already feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You rose on your knees and looked up at Arthur. With both hands you grabbed the base of his dick and parted your lips. Your tongue swirled around the tip and you could already taste the precum dripping from him.

"Atta girl," arthur praised your eagerness as you began to move your hands rhythmically up and down his shaft, your tongue focusing on the most sensitive areas.

A satisfied groan left Arthur's mouth as you took him deeper into your mouth. You could feel the veins that ran along his length as your tongue glided along his skin.

You looked up at his face, watching it contort in pleasure. You watched as his mouth hung open, heavy breaths and cuss words escaping from his lips. His brows furrowed when he grew impatient and his hands found their way to the back of your head, gripping strands of hair and shoving his cock deeper down your throat, making you gag.

Quickly, and uncaring of how you felt, Arthur continued to use your throat as a his personal fuck toy. His dick twitched as you choked on his size and struggled to cope with his harsh thrusts.

"Fuck.." Arthur let a low growl as thrusted himself deeply in your mouth one last time. Thick spurts of semen dripped down your throat and from the corners of your mouth. He removed his cock from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip. With one hand he wiped the cum from your lips and with the other he pulled back you head, forcing you to look at him. "How'd that taste girl?"

You found yourself unable to respond, you weren't to sure what you were even supposed to say. Arthur zipped up his trousers and crouched to your level, taking your chin in-between his index and thumb. You marvled at his reddend cheeks and the sweat that glistend on his forehead, unable to think clearly.

Your lips remained parted as you stared at him. Your cunt ached for him, begging to be filled.

"You look so desperate," he teased. You swallowed your shame and averted your gaze from his.

You could feel yourself becoming wetter just from his words and began leaning in closer, a desperate attempt to beg for more all while your lips were sealed.

"Guess that's too bad," He let go of you abruptly and stood up leading you to awkwardly do the same.

"W-wait.." all you could muster up was a weak stutter. You were honestly offended but weren't sure if you could be. You didnt know this man and he didnt know you. Something that should be intimate wasn't intimate at all. Sure, you'd given him a bath but that was paid for and professional. This? This was no where near the same thing. "I-is that it?"

Arthur laughed. "What? You ain't had enough yet?"

The disappointment was more that noticable on your face. Arthur didn't say anything else, just laughed. He leaned close and reached behind you, opening the door to the hallway.

"Sorry girl, don't wanna overstay your welcome."

And as quickly as you entered, you had been shooed out. Without your tea tray. Your mind was running and you couldn't think, all you could do was make your way back to your room in a daze.

Your hair was a mess and your skin was reddened; still glistening with sweat. you lay on your bed, frustrated. Why didn't you go back and demand him to get the fuck out? Or at least ask for your tray back? Why did you even let him use your body like that in the first place?

Shame washed over you, you were unable to sleep that night. You couldn't help but wonder if he had gone all the way with you, you wouldn't be as pissed off as you were. A small part of you wanted to see him again.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #smut #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption arthur #writing

[spacebarbarianweird]

How about a fic of Astarion not liking his bite mark touched but then Tav does it. 💕

Here we go! Hope you will enjoy it!

The Marks on Our Skin

The bite mark is the only place on Astarion's body Tav doesn't touch. Until now.

Tags: fluff, comfort, f!Tav, established relationship, post-game

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion finds solace in the late evening hours when the sky still holds a warm glow, but the sun is almost gone down. It's neither day nor night, a perfect in-between that he eagerly anticipates.

Emerging from his tent, he sprawls out on the grass with a book in hand, watching as the sky slowly darkens, revealing the sparkling tapestry of stars above.

Astarion props a bag beneath his head, and the fingers trace the cover of the book, its surface still bearing the faint marks of dried blood. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he recognizes Tav's scent.

Astarion opens the book and makes a mental note to convince Tav to learn how to read. He sets the book aside and chooses another, its pages also marred by blood, though not Tav's this time. The text is written in the archaic elven dialect, a challenging puzzle that demands his full concentration. Yet, as he delves into the words, the text starts sounding familiar. As if he already read it, many years ago, when his eyes weren't red and sun didn't burn.

Unwanted memories and thoughts creep into his mind, stubborn as vermin, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't divert his focus.

"How's my favorite man doing?" a loud voice yanks him away from the abyss he had started to slip into.

Tav.

She walks unsteadily, like someone who's had enough to drink, not to think clearly but can still stand on two feet.

"I thought you went to search for quests, not for a drink," he says without any hint of accusation. Tav collapses beside him, and he catches a whiff of ale.

"Are you drunk?"

"No. Well, maybe a little." She giggles and nuzzles into his collarbone. "What's four mugs of ale for a warrior like me?"

He chuckles. "Considering your body type, it's quite a lot."

Tav focuses, attempting to devise something clever to say, but gives up. She presses her body closer to him, and Astarion can feel her heart beating.

"It's very inconsiderate of you to get drunk without me," he teases, studying her face. A soft smile graces his lips as he cannot tear his gaze away from her.

"You can drink my blood, and then we can get drunk together," she playfully suggests.

"I'm not going to feed on you until you get sober," he plants as tender kiss on her forehead.

"Alright, alright, next time, I won't go alone," she concedes. "What if someone wants to harm me or hit on me? You'll need to show them to who I belong to."

He chuckles, reminiscing about the first few months of their journey when he cringed at her casual remarks about belonging to him.

"No, you're not mine," he would protest. "You're not my possession, not my spawn, not my … anything. You're an independent person. Please don't say things like that."

Over time, he understood that Tav's words aren't meant to diminish her self-worth. It is simply an innocent joke between two genuinely free individuals in love. It is her way of reassuring him that she isn't going anywhere, even when Astarion questions his own value in her eyes.

As Tav tilts her chin upward, a subtle flinch passes through him, a reminder of the bite mark they have agreed not to touch.

"I like your bite mark," she drunkenly admits.

He pulls away, and her head falls onto the grass. "Tav, what in the sweet hells are you talking about?"

"I love your bite mark," she repeats. "It proves how strong you are. Did you notice it's not just fangs? It's also incisors. The bastard was so hungry and desperate for prey that he almost gnawed a part of your neck. It shows how strong you are that despite all the horrors and pain, you never gave up."

Tav yawns, her eyes half-closed. Astarion is sure it wasn't just four mugs of ale. She probably remembers drinking only four. The rest is the mystery.

His fingers tenderly brush against her cheek as he asks, "Do you truly mean all that?"

Tav's eyes meet his, her response unwavering. "I do."

He rises to his feet, carefully lifting Tav into his arms, and carries her into the tent. He lays her gently on the bedroll. It seems like they aren't going anywhere this night. Anyway, he has some books to finish reading,

Astarion lovingly tucks Tav beneath her blanket, ensuring she is shielded from the chill of the night.

"Little Star"

"Hm?"

"Can I touch your bite mark?"

He hesitates. It is the only part of his body Tav hasn't touched yet.

"Yes."

He doesn't understand why he agrees. But it's already too late to take away the permit.

Sitting up, a silly smile plays on her lips as she wraps her hands around his neck. With an unexpected boldness, she presses her lips against the scar on his neck. He can feel the touch of her tongue, the graze of her own incisors against his skin, almost as if she is trying to drink his blood.

As Tav releases him, she nestles on her bedroll and dozes off peacefully.

Astarion remains in the tent, keeping a watchful eye over Tav. When hunger gets too strong to bear, he ventures into the woods to hunt.

When he returns before the sun rise, his hunger satiated, and his strength renewen, Tav is still asleep.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Tav exclaims when she realizes it is already afternoon. "Now we'll have to wait the whole day before hitting the road again."

"That's alright, darling. I hope you had fun yesterday. I don't remember ever seeing you so wasted."

"I remember fighting someone who said she'd kill every vampire she came across."

"Did you win?"

"I'm sorry! I should be offended by the mere suggestion that I could lose in a tavern brawl!" She crawls closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her tone turning more serious. "Did I hurt you yesterday?"

"No," he assures.

"Really? I mean, do you say it because you mean it, not just to spare my feelings? It would make me sick if I crossed your boundaries and made you feel… bad."

"Everything is alright. I mean it."

"Can I do this again?"

He nods. Tav kisses his bite mark. Again and again, and he completely melts in her hands.

Astarion marvels at the simple ministration and how it brings him such bliss. He has little faith in gods or divine rewards, knowing nothing could compensate for what happened to him. And yet…

There is Tav. Tav, for whom he wants to be a better version of himself. Tav who caresses his scars and makes the pain fade. Tav, whose blood is, in a way, divine.

Tav eventually pulls away and invites him to lay his head on her lap. "Will you read to me?" she asks.

"The book with bloody fingertips?" he inquires.

"Yep. What's this book about?"

"It's a collection of fairytales for elven children."

Tav's eyes glisten. "Exactly what I need with my hangover."

Astarion opens the book and begins reading. Tav starts massaging his scalp and occasionally lightly touches the bite mark. Sometimes, when he pauses and looks up, he finds Tav's eyes focused on his face.

Those are simple stories. About heroes, magic, dragons, monsters. Naïve. Stupid. Childish. But Tav likes them. In the same way, she likes a good fight, ale, and nights of passion.

Moreover, he can't help but think Tav is similar to these fairytale heroes. She is the hero who protects him, who makes him better. Who gives him all the hope he needs to survive the day.

And he will do anything to make her happy and safe.

"Tav," he whispers.

"Yes, my heart?" she replies.

"I love you."

Tav kisses his forehead "Well, I will never grow tired of hearing that from you."

---

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 astarion #tav x astarion #astarion x f!tav #astarion x tav #astarion fics #astarion comfort #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #spacebarbarian fics

[bl00dst41ned]

*.·:·.✦ my little secret (jude bellingham 'series' pt.2) ✦.·:·.*

pairing: jude bellingham x female oc (Mariah)

summary: in which jude finds out what he's missing

author's note: part 2 is out, part 1 is here. taglist: @everlyjay, @barcagirly (don't know if you wanted to be tagged but didn't know what you meant with your repost) you can still ask to be tagged.

series masterlist

word count: 696

It was another day at St Georges’ Park. The English team was back for the international break. Jude sat at lunch, Trent at his left and Marcus and Bukayo in front of them, in the middle of a conversation.

“Aye, Jude, you remember Mariah ?” Marcus started as he kept his eyes on his phone.

Jude’s head rose, confusion written on his face.

“The girl you disrespectfully dumped after cheating on her” Trent described with no facial expression.

Even though Jude was his friend, he never forgot to remind him how wrong he was in this situation.

“Oh, umm yeah why?”

Marcus turned his phone around showing them an Instagram post.

mariahsworld Self care day to celebrate Tamara’s five months of living. Thank you for choosing me as your mom, I love you 💕

Within a second, Jude had gone on her account via his spam since she had him blocked on the main page and viewed the post. He then went to click on her story seeing even more pictures and videos of her and her baby.

Jude kept his eyes on the screen as if he was hypnotized.

"Waow, I didn- just waow" He mumbled, lost of words. "She definitely turned a new page"

He kept scrolling as Mason and Declan sat at their table. The two instantly noticed Jude’s concentration since he didn't even noticed them.

"Jude what's wrong?" Declan asked as the young man finally noticed them.

"Nun- his ex he threw away for a one night stand now has a baby" Bukayo cut him off with a teasing smile on his face, ruining Jude's attempt to change the subject.

"Mariah?!" Surprise was laced in Declan's voice at the mention of the girl. "This cannot be real"

Declan went on Mariah's page, seeing all the posts with the little girl on it.

"Five months...."

"Tamara is a such cute name" Mason intervened.

Declan had noticed a detail about the little girl's date of birth that rose his attention.

"When did you guys break up already ?"

"A little over a year ago, maybe a year and a month"

Declan's eyes widened as it all came together in his head. If little Tamara was five months, then Mariah had to get pregnant a year and two months prior. And if they broke up a year and a month ago...

"Mate," Jude nodded his head indicating he was listening "Is that your daughter?"

"Wh- No, i-it can't be, she didn't tell me anything"

As unbelievable as it sounded to him, Declan's theory had intrigued Jude. He stared at the picture of the baby while thinking. Not able to get his mind right, Jude needed external advice.

Jude

*sent an attachment*

bro look at this

Jobe

Mar had a baby ?!

waow didn't expect that

Jude

jobe, this might be my child

Jobe

……

Hahahaha

stop playing I almost believed you

Jude

I'm being serious

Jobe

How serious?

Jude

As serious as serious can be

Jobe

ooh tell me all about it

Jude

stop joking pls I'm in deep shit

so Dec did the maths

the baby is 5 months

plus the nine months so we have 14 months right ?

Jobe

Good you can do basic maths

Jude

anyways

we broke up around 13 months ago

therefore ?

Jobe

mum's gonna burn you into ashes

and throw them in the bin

you're dead asf

Jude

no shit 🙄

but it's not what's important rn

I need confirmation

Jobe

for what exactly ??

you're the cheater from what I know

Jude

who knows ?

Jobe

bro you're nuts

she would not have done that

but looks like I'm an uncle 😝😝

Jude

jobe please be serious

you sound like liyah rn

she's getting into your head

Jobe

what did you just say about my girlfriend?

Jude

you can't fight me

Jobe

for my girl ?

I'll beat you tf up 😍🥰🔪

your potential daughter looks so cute tho

Jude

JOBE

we are digressing

what should I do ?

Jobe

bro….

text her

Jude

she blocked me

Jobe

okay ??

if you actually care, you'll find a way

Jude

why is everybody so rude with me ?

Jobe

Jude

STOP WITH THE MEMES

you're becoming just like your girl

Jobe

as I should

Jude

….

bye

Jude exited his conversation with Jobe going to DM Mariah on his spam.

yo it's Jude

i think we need to talk

like and repost for support (hope you enjoyed it)

masterlist for more

#written by bl00dst41ned #my little secret series #football #football fic #football imagine #football x oc #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jobe bellingham x oc

[reallyromealone]

SOULMATES.

OMEGAVERSE, MALE READER, OMEGA MALE READER, ANGST TO WELL SOMETHING, MXM

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

He swore he could hear him when he slept.

Four months ago (name)s world came crumbling, on his eighteenth birthday his soulmate mark appeared, the words his soulmate would speak to him upon their first meeting in their handwriting.

"A human?" Was what it said in elegant handwriting, the words concerning the Omega who kept the words hidden from those around him.

Especially his brother.

Tengen would lose his mind if he read what was written on the other.

(Name) wandered down the streets with his brother, wanting to do some light shopping as tengen had given him some money to buy more supplies for his hobbies, the Alpha pleased his little brother found peace from their family with activities.

"Oh- I'm sorry, here you take it" (name) said politely to the tall man before him with the deepest plum eyes he had ever seen "a human?" The black haired man mumbled, stepping closer to (name) "my soulmates human..."

Muzan should have expected it, the only way his mate would have not been is if he or...her, had changed him.

"I-I must go" (name) said panicked, Muzan taking in the sweet pharamones of the Omega, burning it into his memory as he watched the Omega run off.

He will make arrangements to collect the Omega soon enough.

He knows the consequences of anything happening to his Omega.

It could be incredibly detrimental to him.

When two soulmates interact for the first time, their souls are connected and if one gets hurt, the other would feel the pain and humans were fragile.

Tengen saw the interaction go down, ushering his brother urgently.

His room was covered wall to wall with wisteria, papers soaked in the flower smacked against the walls, poor (name) not allowed to leave the grounds under any circumstances.

But everyone forgot that they were connected, the demon using the soulmate connection to influence (name) via dreams.

It was faint whispers of sweet words, seducing him to leave his room.

But (name) resisted, ignoring the others words and sweet whispers.

Then he appeared in everything.

Words began shifting in the books his brother brought him amongst everything else, poor (name) conflicted and scared.

Logically, this was the king of demons.

He was responsible for killing many he held dear and causing tragedy anywhere he went.

But his Omega practically screamed at him to see his alpha.

Tengen spoke to the other demon slayers about this, worried for his brother who was definitely struggling, nearly dropping twice.

(Name) would be taken to the headquarters so his health could be better monitored and protected.

(Name) was weak as his brother lifted him, clinging helplessly "don't worry (name), I will keep you safe" tengen said assuredly as he carried him out, the Alpha having changed the Omega in clothes soaked in wisteria flowers to ward off any demons.

(Name) sat with closed eyes as the train rumbled, the wisteria having quickly faded from his clothes due to the long trip and just feeling dazed.

"Excuse me sir?" A small voice rang from beside him, (name) blearily turning to see a small boy with well kept hair and a soft expression "I can't find my father... Could you please help me?" He asked with a pleasing tone and (name)s Omega sensed his alpha was near...maybe this was his pup.

Due to the poorness of his health, (name) didn't remember the warnings his brother told him, the white haired alpha having to step away for a moment.

"My brother will be here in a moment... He's better equipped than I am currently" (name) could barely stand as the pup came closer "can I stay with you?" He asked sweetly and (name) struggled to resist as the boy gently gripped (name)s clothes "I suppose, when my brother returns we can look for your father" (name) said letting the boy scoot beside him and after months his Omega was finally quiet.

Tengen was confused as he spotted the child beside his brother, the little boy familiar but (name) seemed content by the pups presence "whose this?" Tengen asked kindly and (name) for the first time in a while smiled "his name's Toshikuni, he's seperated from his father... I thought it would be safe for him to stay here till you return"

Tengen smiled at his brothers kindness, the Omega was always incredibly kind and wanting those around him to thrive.

Which is why it confused him in why he was soulmates with the true antithesis of himself.

A monster.

It felt like his brother had been cursed and Tengen had no way of fixing it.

It was devastating.

He remembers when his brother finally spoke to him about it, the pieces connecting and devastated he looked at the concept of the person for him trying to kill those he loved.

Tengen got ahold of a train attendant and (name) weakly crouched to the boys eye level, letting him hug him "I will return for you" the child's voice completely changed to the voice of...him.

(Name) pulled away to see flashing red eyes before turning back to a deep purple, the boy taking the attendants hand and wandering off.

(Name) was frozen in place as his brother helped him back into his seat, the white haired man assuming his brother was just dealing with slight withdrawal and held him close.

Tengen was abnormally quiet, worry evident in his movements and scent as he tried to think of anything to make his brother happy.

"I'm sorry..." Tengens voice was soft as he stared at his brother "I'm sorry your soulmate is...is him"

"It's not your fault, it's nobodies..." (Name) whispered as he stared off before closing his eyes.

He was just so tired.

Tengen looked panicked as his brother dropped again "shit! (Name)--- let's get you comfortable" tengen said panicked and adjusted his brother to a better position.

CRASH

the train suddenly began shaking, tengen pulling out his blades.

Something bad was about to happen.

Things moved in slow motion as the side of the train ripped open, the little boy from before having spikes from his back... Tengen knew something was off with the kid.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be" Muzan hissed out as the train continued moving, the air pulling things out as Muzan manipulated his arm to stab at tengen, tengen keeping him away from grabbing at (name).

(Name) was practically being thrown around as the two fought for him "keep away from my brother you fucking demon!"

"We're here!" Tengen looked to see the other demon slayers whom had been previously missing "there were other demons on the train, we were ambushed" Tanjiro said as Muzan attacked once more but sadly the strike was hard enough to shake the train aggressively.

(Name) was set in a seat, still dealing with a drop when his body was forced out.

Below them was a lush forest, everyone watching in horror as (name) fell below.

Muzan and Tengen barely spared a glance as they both followed after.

It was by some miracle that (name) landed safely, falling into a pond and waking as his body forced him awake for his safety.

(Name) was Shakey and coughing as he made it to land, unsure how he got... wherever he was.

Clothes soaked he stood up, not looking unlike a newborn lamb as he did so.

He stumbled through the woods, leaning into trees before eventually dropping and leaning against a large oak tree, vision hazy and body cold.

Footsteps could be heard, his eyelids heavy unable to see as a hand gently cupped his cheek "tengen...?"

"No Omega, open your eyes" the voice commanded as (name) opened his eyes to see red staring back "I told you I would return for you" (name) wanted to be scared, to be angry but he was so tired and his Omega was so happy...

"(Name)!" Tengen yelled out as he raced towards the two, Muzan holding (name) in his arms and then...they were gone.

(Name) was gone.

#demon slayer x male reader. #demon slayer x male reader #demon slayer x reader #muzan x reader #muzan x male reader #male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

[theaudacitytowrite]

I just called to say...

Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: I think this fic shows my current state of mind quite well... so I think you guys get why I'm not able to write the fluffy fics that were supposed to be written months ago. I hope you can enjoy this one at least

Warnings: blood, injuries, character death (it's spn, duh!), hurt with no comfort

word count: 2.124

Dean groaned when he was shaken out of his slumber as his phone vibrated somewhere next to him. He tapped around his nightstand annoyed as he tried to find the pesky device and turn it off. Whoever called could wait for him to get up in the morning. He peeked onto the display, blinking against the harsh display light as he was about to decline the call when he saw your face lighting up the screen.

You had walked over Dean’s path earlier that day. You were out on a hunt with a fellow hunter and the three of you caught up over lunch. Dean had needed a motel to stay over for a night since he was on the drive back to the bunker after a successful hunt further down south so you showed him the motel you were staying at before parting ways again.

Dean wondered why you'd call at this time and sighed deeply, answering the phone.

“It’s 3 in the morning. What is it Y/N?” he asked groggily. His voice sounded hoarse, rough, and tired but his demeanour quickly changed to worry when he heard your laboured breaths that you forced yourself to take.

“D-Dean...” your voice was only above a whisper as you replied shakily. But there was also relief. Relief that Dean had picked up. You had worried that he wouldn’t hear his phone since it took him a few rings before he had answered. When he answered with his hoarse voice and his usual sassy remark, you had to smile softly, your eyes closing as a tear ran down your cheek “...I ...I fucked up.” you wheezed strained.  

Suddenly all his usual snarkiness was nowhere to be heard; he was in his serious, caring, concerned mode now.

“What do you mean?" Dean asked confused, “Where are you?”

Your breaths were ragged, and Dean could tell that you were holding back tears and wails of pain.  

“...Randy and I-I,” you stammered, swallowing hard as you tried to hold yourself together, “We were... we went out to the woods.” you coughed and it sounded like you were choking, “It was an ambush.” you managed to press out, “Randy's... he didn't make it and as it looks like... I won't make it either.” you breathed out.

In an instant Dean had jumped out of bed, starting to dress himself hurriedly.

“I’ll come and get you.” Dean responded curtly, almost hanging up.

“No! Wait.” you croaked, “Don’t… don’t hang up. I... I don't wanna die alone.” 

“You’re not dying, Y/N!” Dean harshly responded but cooled down immediately as he took a deep breath. “Okay.” his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again, “I’ll stay on the phone with you but you’re not going to die. And you gotta tell me where you are.” Dean tried to stay calm for your sake as he hurried out to Baby. 

“Somewhere in the woods... maybe ten minutes from the motel.” you breathed heavily.

“I’m coming to you, Y/N. Hold on.” Dean uttered collected.

“Dean...” you sobbed, “...can you do something for me?”

“...yeah. What do you need?” Dean tried to keep his emotions at bay. He didn’t like the sound of your voice. It was getting quieter with each time you spoke. He didn’t waste another second and drove off towards the woods you and Randy had told about him earlier. 

“Tell Bobby...” you hiccupped, “Tell Bobby he was right. I'm an idiot.” you chuckled somberly. “And... tell Sam and Cas that I'm sorry... and I love all three of them.” you sniffled. 

“You can tell them this yourself.” Dean insisted. He felt his emotions start to build up as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

“Please.” you breathed shakily. ”Just promise me.”

Dean’s words were no longer above a whisper as he croaked. “I'll tell them.”

“Thank you... *you huffed heavily, trying to keep your breath steady as you lay on the cold forest ground, the knife in your chest hurting so damn much with every breath you took.

“Do you... do you remember that Summer in 1995?” you suddenly whispered into the phone.

“...Yeah?” Dean hummed as memories flooded his brain. He had no idea of where this was going but he was still curious and waiting for your next words.

“How we went to the beach that one night and sat eating smores till sunrise?” you chuckled, tears running down your cheeks. “We watched the stars...” you trail off. 

“...Yeah, I do remember that night.” Dean wasn't saying much because he didn't want to interrupt you, so he was mostly quietly listening and waiting for more. He wanted to keep you talking so he knew that you were still with him.

“I knew it then.” you sobbed cryptically, the rigid movement hurting you even more. “But I never said anything...” you gulp, “But I have to say something before... before I go…”

Dean swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat and was struggling to keep his voice steady when he spoke. “And what is that?”

 “I love you, Dean.” you breathed through the speaker, “I always have.” you sniffled, “And I'm sorry for telling you this now... but you know me. I always had bad timing.” you chuckle bitterly.

Dean swallowed hard as your words sank in. A flood of emotions filled his head like a wave from the ocean crashing to the shore. He was so speechless that he could barely respond “...yeah, y-you always had bad timing.” He finally answered though it was really just to have something to say.

You chuckled sadly and closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your breath became shallower with every breath and your voice started to fade out as you slowly began to slip in and out of conscience.

“D-Don't you dare leave me...” Dean uttered huskily. He grew more panicked with each passing second. He was scared and desperate. “D-Don't leave me...” He repeated, his voice growing more strained with each word. 

“Ok.” you sobbed weakly, knowing you couldn't do anything against it no matter how hard you tried. You felt your energy draining more and more as you began to shiver. 

“...where are you, Dean?” you asked almost inaudible when Dean’s line grew silent. You needed to hear his voice just for a moment longer. 

“I... I'm here...” Dean whispered back. His voice was shaky, unsteady, and heavy with pain as tears continued to stream down his cheeks. “You... you're not alone. Okay?” he repeated his earlier words almost in a begging tone.

“Thank you...” you whispered, slowly losing strength to hold up your phone to your ear. 

“You're welcome...” There was a long pause after that, and Dean was trying to stay calm for you but you could still hear him struggling to hold back more tears. “Hold on... Okay?” you could hear his voice break with another sob. 

“I... I don’t think I can that long anymore...” you croaked when you suddenly heard the faint sound of an engine and some lights started to creep up the hill. Dean perked up as he heard the noise of Baby reverb from your side of the line and his eyes widened. He suddenly sounded incredibly desperate, and his voice was pleading. “Come on, come on... Come on, come on. Please...” he was still speaking softly so as not to alarm you, but he was trying to be encouraging, hoping you'd hold on long enough to see him.

“Dean?” you asked almost elated, “Is... is that you?” you sobbed, “Or am I hallucinating?” 

“No, you're not hallucinating.” Dean's voice was surer and clearer when he spoke again, though the heavy emotion in his voice was still clearly present. “It's me, it's me. You're gonna be okay.” his voice was still quiet so as not to startle you, but a little louder than before.

You started sobbing audibly, a mix of hope, longing and desperation mixing as you heard Baby approach. It took an eternity until you heard her come to a halt and the doors opened and closed. You heard hurried steps rustling through the leaves and Dean’s voice calling out for you in the distance and over your phone.

“H-here...” you croaked as loud as you could, but it was still only a whisper.

Dean heard you and your words filled him with a rush of emotions. The tears still streamed down his cheeks as he ran around the trees following the sound of your voice. He got closer and closer until he reached you, kneeling by your side as he looked down at you. 

“Y/N.... Y/N...” the flood of feelings almost made his words unintelligible.

Dean saw the state you were in and it frightened him. Your skin was pale and dull, your lips chapped and your eyes half-lidded. You were covered in bruises and cuts, blood everywhere. You were cold to the touch aside from the bloody patch where a hunter knife stuck in your abdomen. 

“Dean...” you breathed out, barely able to focus your eyes on him but his touch was so familiar and soothing.

“Y/N...” Dean took your hand and squeezed it firmly, “Y/N...” he repeated, and his voice grew stronger and louder. “...don't go... please...” you could sense the desperation in his words, as well as the pain and anguish that was breaking out as Dean was desperately trying not to cry.

“I'm... I'm trying...” you huffed heavily, fighting against your eyes closing. “How did you find me?” you croaked out weakly. 

Dean swallowed a few times as the words struggled to come out of his mouth. “It... it doesn't matter... don't matter.” There was a long pause before he spoke again “Just...” another long pause and his tears kept falling, “...just hold on... okay?” He sniffled as he tried to come up with a plan of how to get you out of here and into the ER.

“Dean...” you weakly squeezed his hand, trying to get his attention back to you. 

“Y-yes?” he quivered, pulling your hand up to his cheek.

“It’s going to be alright,” you whispered almost inaudible. 

Dean felt his emotions break as he felt your soft hand on his cheek. A lump grew in his throat yet again as he fought back tears. There was another long pause before he spoke again. 

“It won’t... will it?” he whispered strained, his voice breaking slightly with the last word. You smiled bleakly, knowing he was right. 

“I love you...” you simply responded, your eyes starting to flutter.

You could hear his voice getting even more filled with distress as he couldn't hold the tears back anymore. “I... I love you, too...” he continued, not wanting to waste the last few moments you had before leaving this world. “I love you, Y/N... too...” he whispered as he squeezed your hand again, softly kissing the back of your hand. He hoped that you could still hear him and feel his love as your eyes had closed. For a moment a soft smile appeared on your lips before your face relaxed.

Dean felt a deep sense of guilt when he saw your relaxed expression. The tears still fell as he was struggling to hold your hand steady. “Don't go...” he repeated over and over again. He fell apart when your hand squeezed his faintly once more. He leaned over your body, softly pressing a kiss against your forehead. He could taste the dried blood mix with his tears.

Dean took in your last squeeze and he stayed next to you, his hand still holding yours for a while after he felt there was no more movement in your hand. He was still crying, too devastated to say anything else.

As he started to pull himself together, his voice had become hoarse. It was weak and barely above a whisper. “...Y/N...” Another long pause spread as he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. “...Y/N, you ain't ever gonna believe this.”

He took a moment to gather himself again. He took in a shaky breath and continued, hoping that the last of your consciousness could hear his words in the afterlife at least. “...Y/N, I always knew that you were an idiot,” he said with the barest touch of humour as he smiled through his tears. He took a moment and then spoke again. “...but... you've always been my idiot.” His breath grew shaky again and his eyes were filled with more tears, but the smile was still there as he spoke. Another tear fell from his eyes as he forced himself to chuckle through his sadness as he sat there with you until the sun began to rise.

Sooo... what do y'all say? Hope it wasn't too bad for a first Dean Fic.

Taglist: @hellowgoodbye @tommie-gvf @loz-3

Divider by @talesmaniac89

You can also read it on my [AO3]

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #jensen ackles #character death #angst with no comfort #angst without happy end

[imhidingonceagain]

Slimeriana and QSMP fans, we need to talk (really, I'm going to talk about a few things).

CW: nsfw

Warning: long post.

At this point I think majority of you guys know what happened with Mariana yesterday (especially because the fliporiana community is small compared to other ones).

I'm gonna write some stuff Mariana said and I'm gonna be explicit about it because I want you guys to understand the severity of the situation (this is your warning):

Context: He was curious to see if people actually posted nsfw stuff about him (and poor boy, he really thought he wouldn't find any).

And I quote what he said after seeing some posts: "No, no, no! Why's Slime penetrating me?!" (He was probably looking at a fanart)

"I'm not doing role like that with Slime anymore. I thought you guys found it funny (he was talking about the sex role in the QSMP) but it only fills your minds with shit"

"I'm gonna say it in English because I know there's QSMP fans who do it as well: Don't draw hentai about me, don't draw us fucking, that's being a pervert, that's wrong"

Some months ago I wrote a post when we got the first warning in regards of this topic.

Mariana and Slime have talked about fanart before and at the time they didn't seem uncomfortable about it (though it seems like Charlie's girlfriend was).

So I wrote: it's not necessary to stop doing fanart about them. Just be careful with what you draw and where you post it.

To me even "suggestive" fanarts are "okay" (but with suggestive I mean the characters looking at each other like they want to kiss each other so bad, that's it). But when and how did that translate to some of you thinking that drawing real people having sex and not only having sex (because there's always ways to show intercourse without being explicit or disgusting) but also showing private parts is okay?

Because it's obvious Mariana saw something super explicit by the way he reacted (because he doesn't get bothered too easily). My poor man was distressed!

And let me tell you something. This is not only about Mariana and Slimecicle. This is a REAL PROBLEM within the fandom. Let me give you some examples:

I love reading fanfiction and months ago I was scrolling through the QSMP section on AO3 and let me tell you something: the amount of fanfiction written about the eggs and their parents in a non platonic way is CONCERNING.

Especially Wilbur Soot's fandom seems to have a lot of rotten apples who think that writing abusive stories about q! Wilbur and Tallulah is fine.

I understand some people write stories like that not because they're crime apologists, but because that's their way to deal with trauma (and dealing with trauma through art is okay). But PLEASE remember that while the eggs are fictional, their "parents" are REAL people.

Use fictional characters, please. Stop writing real people into pedophilic or highly abusive situations. THAT'S HORRENDOUS.

Another example is the following: Some weeks ago people were reporting a Twitter account and I clicked on the account (I personally don't like reporting people without making sure they deserved) and it took me like three seconds of scrolling to see more than 5 Ccs being disrespected (including Slimecicle, Quackity, Cellbit, Roier and Badboyhalo). Explicit Pictures, videos and fanarts were being posted about these creators.

You know what I think? I think Cellbit made his character asexual not only for the representation (it's clear by now that q! Cellbit is a sex positive asexual which is still representation yay!) But because he has been on the internet since around 2011 and he knows how disrespectful people can be. I think he knew that his and Roier's ship was getting too popular and that makes them both unprotected to shit like this.

Sadly, it's clear that it didn't matter that Cellbit made his character asexual, people can't seem to respect that detail about his character and about himself as a real person.

To some people it doesn't matter if the Cc is ambiguous or completely clear about their boundaries, they still don't give a fuck.

Please remember that behind each character is a real person. I understand sometimes you guys want to see your favorite characters fuck -me too, honestly- but for people like streamers that's out of the questions because not only they're real people, but because their work is related to social media and the possibilities of them finding EVERYTHING we write and post about them are super high.

I don't know how to feel. It's obvious that Mariana has not been feeling the same about the server since Juanaflippa died. Maybe this will make him feel even worse about the QSMP but I hope I'm wrong.

#el mariana #elmariana #slimecicle #slimeriana #fliporiana #qsmp #elmariana fanart #qsmp fanart #wilbur soot #cellbit #Quackity