#The only way he can be taller than her: She picks him up lol
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“parentz/minyn’s ‘honey mo…” ¹˙⁵
kim minji x 6th member!reader / 1.5k
summary. — “parentz/minyn’s ‘honey moon’, ‘parents’, and ‘divorced’ eras in 7 minutes and 22 seconds.”
warnings. — this is formatted like a youtube video, similar to this by @/jihyoruri / all of the members are in this
🎬 — honeymoon era
“wow.” hanni said, shaking her head in mock disappointment as she clicked her tongue at the sigh before her. “we’re in public, guys, try to have some decency.”
the camera panned to you sitting on minji’s lap, the latter’s head on your shoulder.
[ayo?? 🤨🤨🤨]
“i’m only sitting on her lap, unnie.” you told the girl, exasperated. “and besides, you were sitting on minji-unnie’s lap literally a few minutes ago.”
“yeah, but she wasn’t holding me like that.” the vietnamese pointed at minji’s arms, which were around your waist, and her hands, which were folded on top of your stomach.
[parentz caught in 4k 📸]
“that’s because she kept sliding off.” minji argued, readjusting her hold on you. “she’s taller than you are, hanni, and her pants are more slippery compared to yours.”
“my pants and her pants are literally made out of the same material, unnie.” hanni said, rolling her eyes. “if you’re going to make up an excuse, at least make up a good one.”
“i think it’s less about the pants and more about our height, hanni-unnie.” you said, smiling innocently at the older girl.
“hey, i’m not that short-”
“but you are, unnie – you’re literally the shortest member of our group.”
[yn was not playing around whatsoever 💀]
“just let me pay for it, minji-unnie.”
the older girl scoffed, gently pushing your hand away from the cashier. “as your unnie, yn, i can’t let you do that. let me pay for it.”
[she really used the ‘i’m older’ card lol-]
“this type of thing happens all the time.” hyein commented, shaking her head. “you’d think that one of them would cave and just let the other pay, but that never happens.”
“yah, you guys are holding up the line!” hanni said, gesturing to the growing line behind the group. “hurry it up already!”
[those people do not look happy lmfao]
“why not do do rock paper scissors?” danielle suggested. “whoever loses can pay the next time.”
[danielle is newjeans’ angel, both figuratively and literally]
“alright. rock, paper, scissors-”
you, having closed your eyes, peaked them open to see that minji had picked rock and that you had picked paper.
“ah…”
“woo!” you cheered, turning to the tired-looking cashier and handing him the money. “thank you! sorry for holding up the line!”
[he looks so tired of them 💀]
“i should’ve picked scissors.” minji pouted as the six – seven, including the cameraman – of you walked out the store. you giggled, linking your arms together and resting your head on her shoulder. “don’t be sad, unnie, you can pay next time, like dani-unnie said.”
[ngl, this makes me feel single asf 🫠]
“by the way,” haerin said to the camera, her voice low and barely being picked up by the mic. “it’s not even their money they’re spending. it’s manager-unnie’s.”
[oop- 🫢]
🎬 — parents era
“-and that’s a wrap! good job, yn-ah. you nailed it today.”
“thank you.” you murmur, taking off your headphones. “oh, and before i leave, i’d like to tell you that hyein currently has a cold, so please be patient with her today.”
[aaaaaaaa yn <333]
“yes, i’m aware, minji also told me about her cold while she was here.” your ceo told you, clearly amused.
“ah, she did?” you asked, cheeks flushing a light pink. “she didn’t mention doing so.”
“yes, she did.” the older woman said as she chuckled. “she even told me to be patient as well.”
[hyein’s parents love her so much lol]
“have you guys eaten yet?” (hanni)
“du-du~ bam-bam-baaa~ *insert opera singing here*” (danielle??? in the background)
“…most of them are saying that they have.” (haerin)
“that’s good! it’s almost, like, 8 o’clock right now, so it would be pretty worrying if they haven’t eaten yet. for those who haven’t eaten, make sure you eat something soon!” (danielle)
[danielle is an angel x2]
“‘have you eaten?’”(haerin)
“not yet. we just came back to the dorms like, an hour ago from practice, so…” (danielle)
“we were going to get some take out, but then minji-unnie and yn said that we’ve already gotten take-out three times this week.” (hanni)
“both yn-unnie and minji-unnie are currently in the kitchen making food for us to eat, and hyein is helping them, i think.” (haerin)
[i don’t think i need to say much about this lol]
soon after that, yn also went on an audio live.
“‘you take care of your unnies and younger members so well that they probably think of you as their mom.’ really?”
[yes, really.]
“huh, i never realized i was like that. if anything, i thought you guys would say that about minji-unnie. she’s the one with all the ‘minji being newjeans’ mother’ videos…”
[oh shit, has she seen my videos?? *insert shameless self plug here*]
“anyway, i never saw myself as a ‘mom’ figure to anyone. hyein, maybe, but she’s our maknae, so…”
🎬 — divorced era (which didn’t really last long tbh)
“they’re asking what we did earlier today.” haerin reported, moving back from the camera so that your fans wouldn't just be looking at her eyes and nose throughout the entire live.
“well, we had practice of course,” danielle said, lips pursing as she tried to remember what the six of you had done. “and after that…”
“we went out to eat for the first time in like, months.” hanni finished, smiling cheekily. “it was soooo good.”
“we ate went out to eat just last week, hanni-unnie.” you said, smacking the older girl’s arm playfully. she laughed before jokingly rubbed her arm, mouthing the word ow to the camera.
[hanni and yn, the second tom and jerry of newjeans lol]
“oh, and this was the first time yn-unnie and minji-unnie didn’t argue over the bill!” hyein remarked, scrolling through the comments on her phone. “minji-unnie just gave the money to the cashier and yn-unnie didn’t even say anything.”
[trouble in paradise?]
“oh yeah, that was pretty weird.” hanni said, discretely nudging hyein. “it’s like, never happened before, so we were all pretty surprised.”
“well, there’s always a first time for everything.” danielle murmured quietly, glancing at both yn and minji before saying in a louder voice, “the food was really good though. it was sort of pricey, but good.”
[smooth dani to the rescue.]
“man, we saw so many binky light sticks at the music show,” hanni said, sighing happily. “we really enjoyed seeing you guys there, and i hope you guys managed to get some of the gifts we gave out!”
“oh, someone asked, ‘what gifts?’.” danielle said, pointing at the comment on her phone and showing yn and haerin, who were sitting beside her. “yn-ssi, why don’t you tell us about the gifts hanni-nim was talking about?”
amused, you decided to play along, even going so far as to grab your water bottle and place it under your mouth as if it were a mic.
“well, danielle-nim, the gifts hanni-nim was talking about are distributed at a certain location near the venue of our music shows.” you say, picking up your phone. “and if you follow our twitter, newjeans-underscore-ador, you will get tweets on where these locations are, like this one.”
you raise your phone to the camera, showing off the tweet that had been posted that morning.
“…what kind of broadcast is this?” hyein asked from behind the two of you, staring judgementally at you and danielle.
you both laugh, startling haerin which made the two of you laugh harder. behind you, minji was spaced out, a undiscernible look in her eyes. hanni sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder with a sympathetic look on her face.
[there is no heterosexual explanation for either of those actions lmfao]
“moving on,” you say, pulling your phone back as your laughter gradually turned into giggles. “hanni-unnie is right. seeing all your binky light sticks really made my day!”
“‘they looked like hearts’.” haerin read out loud before nodding her agreement. “they did look like hearts – tiny, colorful, glowing hearts.”
“hearts…” you repeat, mindlessly raising your hand and creating half of a heart with it. instead of completing the heart with her own hand as she normally did, though, all minji did was stare at it blankly.
[oh- that’s not good.]
fortunately, haerin noticed your hand awkwardly hanging in the air and shifted towards you subtly, looking at the camera as she moved her hand to yours to complete the heart.
you smile at her thankfully, though it's obvious that you were a little upset by minji’s actions, or rather, a lack thereof.
[ㅠㅠ]
🎬 — and here's a bonus clip of just the two of them talking about their ‘divorce’ lol
“some people are asking about our… divorce??” (yn)
“we had a divorce?… wait, we were married????” (minji)
[am i the only person who thinks minji asking that was funny?]
“i think it’s our ship name, unnie. y’know, ‘parentz’?” (yn)
“oh yeah, that… why are they saying we got a divorce??” (minji)
“apparently, we looked upset with each other last week during the live.” (yn)
“ah, yeah, last week…” (minji)
“sorry guys, we can't talk about it too much ‘cuz it was pretty personal and not something we’d like to share, but don’t worry. we weren't angry at each other or anything, minji-unnie was just worried about me.” (yn)
“worried is an understatement.” (minji)
“anyway, as i said, don't worry. minji-unnie and i are perfectly fine now!” (yn)
“describe ‘perfectly fine’.” (minji)
“…”
“okay, okay, sorry, honey, i won’t joke about it again, stop glaring at me like that.” (minji)
“…”
“*ahem* moving on…” (minji)
[lol someone’s sleeping on the couch tonight – AND DID YOU CATCH WHAT MINJI SAID?? ‘honey’?!? anyway, thank you for watching, make sure to like and subscribe, and i’ll see you next time <3]
previous. / pairz. / next.
#sereneres#seren.writes#newjeans x reader#newjeans imagines#kpop x reader#minji x reader#kim minji x reader#⊹#nwjns.yn
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Babe I know you’re probably busy but you’re the only one I trust to do this idea justice what about Travis and readers son sneaking out not to do anything bad but to see a girl and Travis and reader bothe argue over a punishment cause Travis seems more laid back
Thanks for your request! This is funny because I imagine that Alex is like a young Travis, such a troublemaker lol. Alex is around 16 here, and the girls are 14 and 12.
"Pick up, pick up. Please!" Alex cursed under his breath when Savannah didn't pick up his third call, shoving his phone in the back pocket of his jeans before he sized up the ornamental metal gate in front of him, at least 10 feet tall. Tonight, as he was trying to sneak back into the house without his parents noticing, he really wished he didn't live in a gated community.
He stuck his foot between one of the rungs of the gate, and tried to hoist himself up, his shoe slipping and barely getting him more than a couple feet off the ground. "Shit", he cursed under his breath as he realized he was going to have to find another way over.
There were a couple of tall hedges to the left of him, but there was no way they were going to support his weight, so that was a no go. The fencing to the right of him was even taller, with spikes at the top, and he preferred to avoid a trip to the hospital for impaling himself, if at all possible.
With a swift confidence, he took a running start at the gate, hoping momentum would help him over, but it only forced him to run into it even harder, his body bouncing off and landing on the ground a couple feet away. He laid on the ground for a minute with his eyes closed, completely defeated, and wondering how long he'd be grounded for once you and Travis found out he sneaked out to meet up with his friends.
He was about to give up and call Travis when his phone began to vibrate in his back pocket. "Dude you are in so much trouble." Savannah chuckled on the other end of the line.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Can you let me in the front gate, I forgot my key card in my room."
"What's in it for me?"
"I-I'll drive you wherever you want to go for the next month." He winced at the thought of taking his sister back and forth to gymnastics practice for the next month, but he was desperate.
"Dad already does that. What else can you offer?"
"My allowance, for the next three weeks."
"Please. Don't insult my intelligence. You know what I want."
"No!", Alex growled, "I'm the oldest, I get that room. I earned it." Savannah begged her brother for the past few months to switch rooms with him because he had more closet space, that according to her was very underutilized. "Okay. I think I heard dad downstairs, I'll go get h-".
"Fine! Fine!", Alex let out a sigh, rolling his eyes. "Fine, you can have the room. I don't care. Can you let me in now?"
"Yes! I'll open the gate, just text me when you get to the front door, and I'll let you in." Alex hung up, stuffing his phone into his pocket and throwing his hoodie over his head just as the gate began to open, a mechanical whirring audible as the gears moved. He ran down the dog walk pathway that would take him to his house, avoiding the main street so he wouldn't be spotted by any neighbors.
He let out a huff as he reached the front door, trying to catch his breath, and shot off a text to Sav to let him know he was there. He immediately began to worry when she didn't respond, but let out a sigh of relief when he heard the front door lock turn.
"Can you please hurry u-?". He stopped in his tracks, his mouth dropping open in surprise, when he saw that it wasn't his annoying little sister standing on the other side of the door, but an angry retired, 6'5" tight end that greeted him. Savannah cowered behind her dad, phone in her hand. "Sorry, he caught me opening the gate."
Alex's shoulders slumped over as he followed Travis into the kitchen, where you were waiting for him in your pajamas, arms crossed over your chest, anger radiating off of your body.
"Alex, where have you been?"
"A few friends and I went to a movie, its no big deal." He shrugged, afraid to make eye contact with you.
You were incredulous. "No big deal? Did you hear that Travis? Its not a big deal that our son snuck out in the middle of the night to go to the movies. Well, Alex, if its no big deal, I guess we have nothing to talk about." Bubba began to back away, thinking he was in the clear, but only got a step away before Travis stopped him with a strong hand on his shoulder.
"I wouldn't if I were you." Travis spoke from experience; he'd been in many an argument with you during your relationship and marriage, and he knew that sometimes you said one thing, but meant the very opposite, especially when upset.
"Who were you with?" You felt a headache building at the base of your neck as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "It doesn't matter, just some friends."
"It does matter. Were you drinking, smoking, anything like that?" You couldn't smell cigarette smoke or liquor on his breath. "No! I've never done any of that stuff, we just went to the movie. Me, Dylan, Lane and Nina." He said the last name at a whisper, knowing it would rile you up.
"Nina." You shot Travis a look, and he tried to get you to calm down with a raise of his brow. "Yeah, I never get to see her with baseball and school. We just wanted to hang out together before Soccer starts again for her." You both knew Alex had a girlfriend, and she was a lovely girl, but you hated to think that she was part of a crowd that would get Alex in trouble like this.
"I don't know what I'm more upset about, the sneaking out, the lying, or getting your little sister involved?" You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to steady your breathing. "Alex, you know better. I know we taught you better than this. No baseball for a month."
"What?! No baseball?". Alex was on the brink of tears immediately. "Mom, no you can't do that. Coach finally said I'm gonna be pitching. If I miss a month of practice there's no way I'll start! That's so unfair!"
"Unfair? You know what's unfair, Alex? Being worried sick about where you've been. You couldn't have gotten hurt, or in trouble. I have no idea where you went, and I don't know if I can trust you again." Your anger was a manifestation of your worry, and in the moment you were worried sick.
Alex clasped his hands together, shamelessly begging. "Mom, I promise, I'm fine, and I'll never do it again, but please don't do this." His pleading only made you madder, the heat creeping up your neck.
Travis was quick to intervene, realizing that you were about to boil over. "Its late. Alex, go to bed, we'll talk in the morning."
"But, dad, please."
"Alex, go." Travis warned Alex not to push the issue with a flex of his jaw and a look. He reluctantly went upstairs, even though he was prepared to apologize for the next few hours, anything to get back in your good graces.
"Can you believe him? "not a big deal". Incredible", you scoffed, gripping the counter behind you to steady yourself. "Babe, I know this is not good, but don't you think taking away baseball is a little much?" Travis asked, knowing he needed to tread carefully.
"No! If anything, its not enough. He's lucky I didn't take away anything else." You ground your teeth as you thought about it, a quick guilt settling in your stomach. "I didn't think we were raising someone who would lie to us, sneak out. I mean, I know you were kind of trouble-"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Travis' brow knitted as he looked at you. "I just mean, you weren't exactly an honor student growing up, come on."
"No, you come on. I was trouble sometimes, but I wasn't that bad." Travis was growing annoyed with your accusations, not expecting the night to become a criticism of his character. "Travis, I've heard the stories from your parents and Jason."
"So its my fault that Alex snuck out tonight. He doesn't have a good role model, right?" Travis raked his fingers through his beard, giving you a sarcastic nod. "Well alright then. You punish him how you see fit. I'm going to bed."
You grabbed at his hand as he walked away. "Travis, stop. That's not what I meant at all. I'm sorry." You tangled your fingers with his, closing the distance between the two of you. "I lost my head for a second, I didn't mean what I said."
"You did." He held up a hand as soon as you opened your mouth to object. "But I get it, and you're right. I wasn't the best kid growing up. I gave my parents a lot of trouble that they didn't deserve, but I turned it around. Alex, he's not a bad kid. He's a good kid, who made a bad decision. So yeah, he needs to be punished, but not with the one thing he's worked so hard for."
"I know, I know." You place a hand on his chest. "You're right, and he has you to thank for that, you're an amazing role model. I never should have questioned the kind of man you are."
"How about, no car for a month, and he picks up some chores around the house?" You contemplated the punishment for a moment before agreeing. "Is it going to be this hard with the girls? I don't think my heart can handle it", you said, only half joking.
"I wouldn't worry too much", Travis chuckled, "I only had to look at Savannah and she cracked under the pressure." Travis placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hands wrapping around your back to pull you into a tight hug.
#travis kelce#traviskelce#travis kelce fanfiction#travis kelce fanfic#travis kelce imagine#travis kelce x reader#nfl imagine#nfl fanfic#nfl fanfiction
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Midnight Espresso
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader
Summary: You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson.
AN: The muse hit me hard on this one last night lol. I felt like "Midnight Espresso" was catchier than the working title, "Midnight Coffee Shots."
Thanks for the encouragement and inspo: @deanwinchesterswitch @iprobablyshipit91 @freewastelandstrawberry
Song Inspo: "2 Be Loved (Am I Ready)" by Lizzo
Word Count: 7,000
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, mutual pining, body insecurity, ass appreciation, supernatural shenanigans, naughty language, bad bitch o’clock and thicc thirty.
☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist
When you spot the caller ID on your buzzing cell phone, you have to smile. You answer the call.
“Well if it isn’t Dean I need a favor Winchester,” you tease. You hear his genuine chuckle, deep and smooth in your car speakers.
“Hey, sweetheart…” He hesitates, which makes your lips curve wryly.
“Yeah, Dean? What’cha got?”
“I need a favor.”
You sigh dramatically. “So fucking predictable.”
“Sorry, but look. We really do need you…we’ve got a situation.”
“Oh, a situation? How specific,” you chuckle.
“All right, smartass,” he says, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. “Just listen…”
When he tells you the lowdown on the case he and Sam are on, you have to change directions—all the way to a dusty little town in the south of Texas.
There you find the brothers Winchester outside La Cantina Libre.
You greet Sam first, stretching up to meet his hug. He’s friendly and warm when he rubs your back.
“Good to see you,” he says.
“You too, lumberjack,” you reply, noting the new layer of scruff he’s sporting on his face. Sam gives a dry chuckle and rubs his bearded chin.
“I keep tellin’ him to shave that ferret off his face,” Dean remarks. You turn to him with a grin just as he pulls you in next.
“Aw, he looks good,” you say, giving Sam an encouraging look behind Dean’s back. The taller Winchester sports a good-natured smile.
But you revel a bit in Dean’s warmth when he holds you tight, then let out a little breath when he pulls away, grasping your arms.
“So do you,” he says with a wink.
You roll your eyes and playfully hit his shoulder. “Right. Eight hours of cross-country grime really becomes me.”
But you can’t help blushing a little at his smirk. Always a fucking flirt.
You turn your head to the bar in front of you.
“What’s the deal with this place?”
“The husband of one of the victims is inside,” Sam explains.
According to the police report, his wife returned home from a night out with her friends three days ago. She sat down in the middle of the living room, on the ground. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t eat.
When Hector Rivera brought his wife to the hospital, neither fluids or medication helped her sleep or retain any nutrients. The official cause of death was starvation and dehydration.
It was a baffling case, both for the doctors and the police, who never found any criminal evidence to support a murder investigation.
“Okay, have you talked to Hector?” you ask. Dean raises his brows at you.
“That’s where you come in,” he says. “The guy only speaks Spanish. Neither me or Sam got the chops to Duolingo our way through.”
You can certainly believe that of Dean, but you still make sure to tease Sam on your way inside the bar. He’d studied Latin in high school, but hadn’t bothered to take Spanish?
“Definitely a white boy move,” you tease, which Sam accepts with a chuckle.
But you realize that the guys really would’ve been at a loss here. Most of the bar patrons are Spanish-speaking Latinos (you are a mere stone’s throw from the border of Mexico, after all).
You ask around for Hector and find him at the end of the bar, drinking alone. He’s early forties at most, dark hair, tan skin mere shades lighter than yours. He has three shots down in front of him, and he’s working on picking up his fourth. Sam and Dean trail after you as you slide into the stool next to Hector.
“Señor Rivera,” you greet him in your native tongue and pull out your fabricated police badge. “Good evening.”
He glances at you, then your badge with furrowed brows.
“What do you want?” he asks in Spanish, just a hint slurring.
“I’m very sorry about your wife. I know you’ve already given your statement, but we’re looking further into the circumstances surrounding Nina’s death,” you explain.
He perks up at that, his brown eyes briefly lighting with something other than cold, hard grief.
“The doctors couldn’t explain it, he admits. “They couldn’t do a damn thing. I just don’t understand…”
He glares down at his hands, at the glass of liquor between them. He fights to control himself, but you can see it’s a losing battle. You rest a gentle hand on his arm, and when Hector meets your eyes, you know he’ll find genuine sympathy.
“I want to help you,” you tell him. “At the very least, I can look for a real explanation on what happened to Nina. Can you tell me what you know?”
A moment later, he pats your hand on his arm. And he tells you.
Dean watches from his spot behind you while he and Sam blend in, each drinking a beer. Dean admires how easily you connect with people. How genuine you are in wanting to help them.
He knows you’ve spent years in this job. Maybe not as long as him, but long enough to get jaded. You aren’t, and you care.
Dean thinks it’s part of the reason why you always answer when he calls. You’ve never said no to him, always been there when he and Sam need you. And that, he somehow feels guilty about.
Because what the fuck has he really ever done for you, other than put you in danger?
“Dean,” Sam says, nudging his side.
It brings Dean back to the present when he sees you’re getting up from the bar. Despite his inner conflict, he can’t help but notice the curve of your ample ass in those tight jeans. An enticing ratio of thick thighs to smaller waist, and generous cup size to match.
But when you turn around, it’s your sad smile that grabs his attention. You draw near, and Dean forces himself to stay relaxed when your warm hand rests on his forearm.
It’s a familiar, comfortable thing for you to be touchy. You’re an expressive person, always talking with your hands, full-body animated when you tell stories.
Sometimes you’ll grab his wrist playfully, or brush your hand along his back when you pass by. Or you’ll grab his shoulder to steady yourself, and lean into him when you’ve had too much to drink.
Dean likes it—all of it. In fact, he finds it endearing as hell.
But it’s also a problem. A unique kind of torture to keep himself in check around you…
Frankly, he doesn’t think you know what your touch does to him.
In fact, he knows you don’t, because while you’ve got your smooth, tan hand on his arm, you’re more looking at Sam when you say:
“I think I know what this is.”
“El Sombrerón,” you repeat yourself as you flip through a book on South American lore.
“Shouldn’t you be an expert on this already?” Dean teases as you rifle through the pages. “I thought Latin American legends were right up your alley.”
The three of you are back at their delightfully crap motel of the week. You and Sam sit at the two-seater table while Dean leans against the wall with his arms crossed.
You shoot him a wry glance. “I’m Cuban, not Guatemalan. Though apparently, El Sombrerón appears in Mexican mythology as well.”
Hector said that the night his wife went to the bar with her friends, her friend Jennine saw a man with a black jacket and a hat to match.
She said he flirted with Nina, a sweet but introverted soul. She turned him down, of course, but he tried to cajole her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and touch her cheek. That’s when Jennine stepped in and cursed the guy out, threatening to break his nose if he didn’t back off.
They didn’t see him again that night, but you suspect the damage had been done the moment he touched her…
“All right, so he’s a boogeyman of sorts,” Sam says, gesturing at the vivid illustration in the book he’s holding. You peer over at the page and nod.
“Yeah, I’ve heard the cautionary tale. A man dressed in black, wide-brimmed hat—”
“Like Zorro,” Dean supplies. You give him an amused grin.
“No, not like Zorro,” you reply. “Instead of being a fine-ass caped crusader with a voice deep and gritty as sin, El Sombrerón likes to lure women into the woods.”
Dean raises a brow at your description (Deep and gritty as sin, huh?), but you continue.
“Specifically, he’s got a fetish for long hair,” you recount. “Here it says El Sombrerón’s voice and touch are a curse, rendering his victims unable to eat or sleep. Eventually, they die.”
That falls between you all like hot lead. Until Sam voices the question you’re all thinking.
“So how do we find him?”
“For the record, I’m against this fucking idea,” Dean mutters to his brother. Once again, they’re patrons of La Cantina Libre, each nursing a beer.
“Yeah, you’ve made that known a few times now,” Sam replies in a low whisper. “She’ll be okay, Dean. We’re right here for her.”
They’re just on standby, watching you ignore flirtations from men with a coy smile. You leave a delicate ring of red lipstick on your straw while you nurse a Tequila Sunrise.
Dean subtly (to Sam, not so subtly) watches you. His elbow rests on the counter, chin in hand, hand over mouth, while his eyes roam down your simple black dress. Your ankles are crossed under the bar counter. The toe of your platform heel bouncing against the foot rail is the only thing telling Dean that you’re a bit nervous.
You’ve let your hair down on purpose, trying to entice the “Zorro” monster with the smooth waves running down your back.
On any other night, Dean might’ve enjoyed this place. He has a good beer in hand. There’s some live music tonight, in the form of a man playing a shiny silver guitar, crooning into the mic. You turn your head to watch for a moment, and Dean sees the way your gaze sharpens on the musician.
The man wears a black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, tucked neatly into his dark wash jeans. His black hair is long and a little wild, almost brushing his shoulders. While he holds out a smooth note, he looks up and finds your gaze. His lips curve on a smile.
Your face heats up at the attention, but you find yourself captivated by those eyes. They’re intense, almost black under the stage lights. And as the musician’s song comes to a close, you feel a trill of something run down your spine when he sets down his silver guitar.
Then he makes his way toward you.
He settles into the free seat next to you and orders two tequila shots.
“I have a drink, thanks,” you say. The man only smiles.
“You’ve been holding onto that Sunrise for two hours,” he says. “I just thought you might like something stronger, before the sun actually comes up.”
Inside, you want to roll your eyes at the cheesy line.
Instead, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and his gaze is drawn to the motion. You notice it with mounting suspicion.
“Maybe I do,” you reply. “What’s your name?”
“Miguel,” he says, offering a charming smile. “And yours, amor?”
You consider him with flirtatious eyes and a tilt of your head. You’re fairly certain you have your target.
You lay a hand on his arm, over his jacket. You lean in close enough to whisper in his ear.
“Do you really need my name?” you ask in Spanish.
Miguel smirks when you lean back. He offers you his hand to help you off of your stool. Wary of actually touching his skin to yours, you try your best to be graceful and sensuous as you slide out of your seat and onto your heels without his help. You then walk out of the bar through the back without waiting for him to follow you (hoping that he does).
Your instincts are right, however. When you make it out of the bar, Miguel is indeed closing in behind you. You glance over your shoulder, offering a coy smile. But when you look ahead, you have to utter a gasp.
Miguel is suddenly there to grab you and pull you in by your waist.
“When will your friends be joining us?” he asks, trailing a finger down your cheek. It makes you shudder, but you pretend to be confused.
“Friends?”
“Dumb and dumber, watching you like a hawk,” he says, raising a brow. “Oh, mi amor. I know a pack of hunters when I see them.”
Sam and Dean watch the musician run back for his guitar, slipping it carefully in its case before he takes off after you.
“Get the guitar. Got a feeling about that thing,” Dean says to Sam. “I’ll follow ‘em.”
The moment Dean walks out the back of the bar, he stops short and draws his gun. His body tenses and his face falls into a glare when he sees Miguel holding you close (and against your will). But Miguel catches sight of Dean.
He forcefully turns you around and wraps an arm across your chest, pulling you back as you struggle.
“Good evening,” Miguel greets with a smirk. He nods at the full moon. “Beautiful night for a lover’s serenade.”
His voice alone is a threat, Dean knows. And by the way your eyes widen, so do you.
“Shut the fuck up, Mike,” Dean snarks. “Mind if I call you Mike?”
He raises his gun, but Miguel tsks at him. You grit your teeth as he pulls your hair back away from your cheek. His breath is hot an unpleasant in your ear, causing you to shudder.
“I do wish we had more time, amor,” he says, trailing a hand down your ass and thigh. “I like to play with my food.”
A hot lance of anger runs through Dean, but it runs even hotter through you, igniting your temper and making your patience run right the fuck out. You snap your head back and catch Miguel in the nose. He wrenches back with a pained cry.
You try to ignore the resulting ache in your head and reach for the silver knife in your thigh holster, beneath your dress. But Miguel grabs you by the hair. Suddenly his face has become grotesque, revealing its true form with a mouth filled with sharp, needle-like teeth.
You gasp as a trill of magic runs through your body from his touch. It paralyzes you as he wrenches your neck back and prepares to bite a chunk right out of your neck.
But Dean shoots a warning shot by the creature’s head, all-too close to yours as he approaches.
“Hey!” Sam calls out. He attracts everyone’s attention, even Miguel’s. Sam holds the silver guitar.
“This is what you use to play Pied Piper, right?” Sam asks. Miguel’s face hardens, but before he can do anything about it, Sam smashes the guitar to smithereens on the gravel road.
Miguel lets out an outraged hiss. While he’s distracted, Dean takes another shot that hits the creature in the shoulder. It gives you the opening you need to grab your knife and stab him in the leg.
Miguel cries out in pain, but before you can scramble away, he grabs your face. His sharpened nails bite into your skin, making you wince. You manage to kick out his knee. It forces him to release you, unless he wants to eat the ground hard.
Sam is there to catch you while Dean closes in. He shoots, the creature evades, grabbing Dean’s wrist and punching him across the face. The hunter goes down to the gravel with hands held out to brace himself. But he has a large knife on his belt that he retrieves next, only to be knocked out of his hand when Miguel bears on him.
He throws off Sam’s attempt to pull him off Dean, throwing him hard against the dumpster in the alley.
While Dean grapples bare-handed with the monster, trying his best to evade gnashing teeth in his face, you find his discarded knife and bury it deep into Miguel’s back.
He howls with pain and tries to throw you off. He manages to backhand you in the face and shove you away. You nearly roll an ankle on the small rocks rolling under your heels, and you end up on your back with the wind knocked out of you.
But Dean’s able to kick Miguel off and finish what you started. Dean pins the man on the ground and twists the knife deeper. And he doesn’t let go until the creature below him stops twitching.
Dean takes in deep breaths to account for the way adrenaline has set his blood pumping. He still sits on the ground with the body next to him. But then, he finds you kneeling next to him in your now dusty dress. Your eyes are worried when you grasp his shoulder and lay another hand lightly on his scuffed knee.
Dean reaches for you on reflex, grabbing your arm. Both of you manage to ask your burning questions at the same time—
“You okay?”
“Are you all right?”
You crack first with a giggle. Dean quirks a grin and thumbs at your cheek.
“Yeah, all good,” he says.
Your relieved smile reaches your eyes, and it warms him. “Good.”
Behind you both, Sam hides his own knowing smile.
Sam and Dean invite you to stay over at the bunker after the hunt, instead of making the even longer drive home. You’re too exhausted to say no.
By the time you get to the bunker, you’re dead on your feet, practically swaying down the stairs.
“I’m so fuckin’ tiiiired…”
“Come on, stop whining,” Dean teases as he helps you down. Sam has dropped your duffel bag on the ground floor and gone on ahead to shower, leaving you and Dean to figure this out.
“Why don’t you just take off the heels?” he wryly suggests.
“Hell no,” you refuse with a stubborn shake of your head.
You don’t want to contemplate how much monster guts have glossed the stairs of this bunker, via the brothers’ boots.
Maybe it’s a silly reason to suffer, but is it really suffering if you have Dean Winchester escorting you with both hands down the stairs?
His hands are warm and you trust the strength of his hold, but when your heel wobbles on the edge of a step, you still go for the railing rather than sink all your weight on Dean. He laughs at you, and you maturely stick out a tongue at him.
“At this point, it’d be faster if I freakin’ carried you,” Dean remarks. He reaches for you, but you stop him with a heel in his sternum.
“Eh-eh! Don’t even try,” you laugh. “I totally got this.”
Dean rolls his eyes, but you lower your heeled foot and manage to climb down the last few steps of the rickety staircase…at least, what your exhausted brain thinks is the last one.
You almost go ass over tea kettle when you miss the final stair with a yelp—but Dean is there to catch you.
His arms are like steel bands around your frame, curving around your lower back and pulling you flush against his chest. You gasp and cling to his arms. When you look up at him with wide eyes, you find his amused face…and maybe something else in his eyes. He tilts his head down at you.
“Well, well. Look who keeps falling for me?” he remarks.
You blush at the flirtatious edge of his tone. The gleam in his green eyes; you take it for amusement only, not realizing that he’s barely resisting the urge to claim your lips.
“Right,” you laugh him off with a pat on his chest. “When was the first time again?”
You make sure your heels are firmly on the ground before you push away from Dean. As you thought, he doesn’t try to keep you. He still looks amused as he lets you go.
He flirts with anything, you remind yourself, when disappointment starts to carve a hole in your heart. Don’t take it so seriously.
You say goodnight before you take up your duffel bag and go to find a free bedroom (and a hot shower). All the while, you bite your lip against a deep-seated feeling of uncertainty.
Dean watches you go, and you don’t see the way his mask of a smile fades into a frown.
After a nice hot shower and changing into your pajamas, that moment with Dean has unsettled you enough that you're not quite ready to go to sleep. Maybe you’re in the mood for a midnight snack.
You take out a couple of supplies from your bag and head over to the kitchen. There you set up your little cafetera coffee press with water, and a generous few tablespoons of Café Bustelo grounds of espresso. While that brews on the stove, you make some popcorn in the microwave.
You don’t realize that the rich smell reaches Dean all the way in his room. He sniffs the air in interest, then in confusion.
She’s making coffee at midnight?
He gets up out of bed and pads down to the kitchen where you’ve taken over. A large bowl of popcorn is ready and waiting for him to snatch a handful, while you’re checking the little metal carafe you have going on the stove.
“What’cha up to, sweetheart?” he asks. You greet him with a smile.
“Café con leche,” you reply.
Coffee with milk, he mentally translates. That much, he can work out.
“You drink coffee at this time of night?” he asks.
“My people invented it. I’ve been inoculated to this stuff since I was eight years old,” you quip. “Want some? Believe me, you’ll love it.”
He shrugs. “Sure. But if I end up too wired to fucking sleep, be prepared to suffer with me.”
You laugh. “I’m sure we’ll figure out something to do.”
Dean’s not sure if you meant that as flirtatious as it sounded. But by your briefly widening eyes and blushing cheeks, maybe you just realized it. He smirks and draws closer while you break out two mugs from the cabinet.
He notices your chosen pajamas with secret appreciation (a large threadbare Journey shirt over spandex shorts). You fill the little shorts out well.
Though Dean spots several small holes in the shirt. He teasingly sticks his finger through one in your short sleeve.
“Lose a fight with a pair of scissors?” he jokes.
You shoot him an amused glance over your shoulder.
“You are the reigning king of dad jokes. I’ll have you know, this is my lucky shirt.”
He snorts in response. “What makes it lucky?”
You just bite your lip and focus back on your task at hand. With the coffee done percolating, you measure out two steaming shots of espresso into each mug.
“Hey, you brought it up,” Dean reminds you.
You sigh, and after you pour in the sugar and the evaporated milk into each mug, you turn around and lean against the counter.
“I’ve never had a bad dream while wearing this shirt to bed,” you confess. His teasing gentles at that.
When you turn back around to put the finishing touches on what you’re doing, Dean’s expression becomes more fond as he watches you.
You then offer him his Batman mug with a brighter smile.
“Buen provecho,” you say.
“What does that mean?” he asks predictably, taking the mug from you.
“Enjoy! Like bon appetite, basically.”
“Ah,” he raises his brows before he takes a sip. Then they raise even higher as he hums in pleasure. “Ooh, it’s sweet…and strong. Shit.”
“Very,” you say with a chuckle, taking your own sip. You make a sound of delight, complete with a little “happy dance” shimmy. “Almost as good as my grandma makes it.”
Dean smiles in amusement at your antics. The two of you sit at the kitchen island, where there are three stools and the bowl of popcorn. The salty snack is just the right balance for the sweet coffee.
“She taught you how to make this?” he asks.
You nod. “Yep! She’s an amazing cook too. Learned everything I know from her.”
“Hmm, might need to sample something of yours sometime,” Dean says, peering at you over his mug. His tone is deceptively light, but you read the double meaning in his eyes.
You hide the way your mouth falls open behind your own mug. Instead of answering, you nod and take a delicate sip. Your gaze veers away from his as you blush.
He’s in a good mood tonight, you think in bemusement.
“So tell me. What are the best curse words in Spanish?” Dean asks.
You have to laugh. Your head ducks as you reach for his arm. His eyes briefly go to your hand, and he smirks.
“Of course that’s the first thing you want to know,” you tease. You take back your hand and think about his question. “Hmm…I mean, there are the basics. Coño, carajo. Like 'damn it,' 'fucking hell,' and so forth.”
“Come on, you can do better than that,” Dean says.
“Well, yeah,” you say with a grin. “Comemierda is a Cuban fan favorite.”
“Which means?”
“Literally? Someone who eats shit,” you laugh. “A stupid asshole, basically.”
Dean’s grin deepens. “Nice.”
“The best one of all time is probably…ugh, my mom would wash my mouth out with soap for even saying it.” You cover your face with both hands, but Dean nudges your elbow.
“Come on, give it to me,” he teases. You peek out at him from between your hands. Then you stage whisper to him.
“Hijo de la gran puta,” you say. It rolls off your tongue in such a way that, even though Dean knows it’s vulgar in some way, the ease in which you say it raises the hairs on his arms.
“I like that,” he says.
You giggle at him. “You don’t even know what the fuck it means.”
“Don’t matter. I just like how it sounds,” he says. “Gimme the Google Translate.”
You shoot him a narrowed look for that one. “It means son of the grand whore. Literally, the chiefest of them all. The grand poohbah of whores.”
Dean splutters with laughter. His hand slaps the table, and you shush him, reminding him that Sam is probably sleeping by now.
“It’s literally one of the worst things you can say to somebody,” you say, though you’re also choking on laughter. By the end of it, you and Dean are chortling like fools and getting high on espresso and sugar.
You teach him how to roll his r’s, and at his request, more slang. You explain how certain Hispanics and Latino cultures use different words for the same thing (at times, very confusing), and how something innocent to an American, like a papaya fruit, means something very different for Cubans.
For Dean’s part, he’s genuinely interested in what you have to teach him. But he also just likes hearing you speak the language. It rolls off your tongue gracefully, effortless and sensuous without you meaning to. He likes it enough that he tells you his honest thoughts.
“It all sounds incredibly hot, I’m not gonna lie,” he says with a chuckle. You blush at that, something he finds endearing.
“You sound like my ex,” you say in amusement. “He only went out with me to help him with his Spanish.”
Dean sobers a bit at that. “What?”
“Yeah.” You chuckle dryly. “He was trying to land some job as a strip club bouncer, but we were in Miami at the time. They needed someone bilingual.”
Dean doesn’t like the resigned tone of your voice.
“Yeah well, the bouncer?” he remarks, trying for a teasing bump of his hand against yours. “Come on. You should at least be aiming for the owner.”
You flash him a brief smile and nod. “Ah, so I set my sights too low. Got it.”
It’s then that Dean starts to wonder about the kinds of guys you’ve gotten with in the past. Not that he has room to judge, but he can see that there was no love lost there for you.
Dean has a thought, deep in his bones, that you deserve someone who sees how special you are. How kind, funny, loyal, caring…
“Seriously,” Dean says. “You can do better.”
“Right,” you laugh. But he’s not laughing. You raise a brow at him.
“What?” you ask.
His lips purse, but he thinks better of what he wants to say.
“Nothing. ‘S none of my business,” he says.
You stare back at him and frown thoughtfully. You think you’re lucky to get a date, the way you constantly move around.
You don’t have stability, and even though you try to keep in shape, try to avoid the shittier fast food, it’s been a challenge to maintain yourself. You worry that you’ve gained five pounds in diner food alone in the past couple of months…
Okay, mostly, you’re happy with your curves. But the way Dean’s looking at you now, you can’t help a flutter of hope that rises in your chest, making your heart beat faster.
Maybe you’re finally ready to know how he really sees you.
“Talk to me, Dean,” you nod, and you reach out a hand to grasp his wrist.
He looks down at your hand. After a moment, he sighs and lays his own over yours. He meets your gaze.
“Look, I think I hear what you’re not saying,” Dean says. “And you’re sellin’ yourself short, sweetheart. That’s all.”
It takes you a moment, but a soft smile spreads across your face. It warms him in a way he doesn’t expect, but maybe he should.
Biting your lip with a bit of embarrassment, you squeeze his hand before you get up to take the two empty mugs with you to the sink.
“Que hombre tan pendejo, hermoso,” you mutter. “Ni siquiera sabes lo que me haces.”
You don’t realize that Dean actually hears you. He perks up, standing from his seat and approaching you from behind.
“What was that?” he asks.
You jump slightly, and a blush burns down your neck as you turn off the sink and spin back around. Dean is there, crossing his arms and staring you down with a raised brow. A hint of a smirk begins to edge around his mouth.
“What?” you ask.
“Oh, no. You said something just now,” he says. Like a dog with a bone, he’s not going to let this one go.
Your lips threaten to smile, but you shake your head stubbornly. “You’ll just have to invest in that Duolingo subscription.”
Dean joins you by the sink. His hand braces on the kitchen counter.
“Well, either you’re insulting me, or you’re flirting with me,” Dean says.
His lips then edge into a smirk. “The first one I could forgive, but the second…might require some retribution.”
Your eyes slowly widen. “What, why?”
Dean has to chuckle, because your expression is all but an admission of guilt. It’s too damn adorable.
“Because you can’t flirt with me without me knowin’ about it,” he says. “That’s just rude.”
His hands brace the counter on either side of you, trapping you in. The only way to get through him is to tell him the truth, or suffer the consequences.
You gaze up at him with wide eyes and a full flush across your tan skin. Is he actually doing this right now?
Your heart beats loud in your ears like conga drums.
“So which is it, sweetheart?” Dean asks. His playful, but singularly focused green-eyed gaze tells you he really does want an answer.
“Well, it was kinda both,” you say with a shy, but mischievous smile. Dean’s smirk deepens.
He tucks a finger beneath your chin and lets his thumb brush your full lower lip…
Then he leans down to kiss you thoroughly. His plush lips move over yours, hot, wet, and sinfully good.
But it’s also short—much too short for your liking when he parts from you to gauge your reaction. He seems to like what he finds in your eyes.
“Was that the punishment?” you tease. “Kinda weak.”
Dean raises a brow. “Consider it a start.”
He pulls you into him by your waist and continues where he left off, with another searing kiss. You hum with pleasure against his lips as your fingers delve into his hair.
His hands move down your back, making a shiver of delight coarse through you. They land on cradling your ass, squeezing and pressing you into him.
You gasp into his mouth. You can feel his length already hard against you. That alone trills anticipation down your spine, and a dizzy feeling, the fact that your touch is turning him on. You nip at his lower lip in response, licking into his mouth. It elicits a sound deep in his throat as his touch becomes more demanding.
He then bends down to reach behind your thighs, and before you know what’s happening, you squeal when he lifts you up on the counter.
You grab his shoulders like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.
Damn, he’s strong!
“What’s the matter?” he laughs.
“I’m just not used to being manhandled,” you quip. “These hips don’t lie, but they definitely don’t fly.”
Dean snorts. “Says who?”
“My ex, for one thing,” you joke again. Though it isn’t actually a joke.
Dean, again, isn’t laughing.
His hands aren’t large enough to span your thighs, but it’s not for lack of trying. His firm touch burning up your parted thighs are distracting, warm over your skin, and over your thin shorts. His thumbs dip between your inner thighs, making you breathe a bit more shallowly.
“I get the feeling that you’ve been with some ain’t shit guys,” Dean says. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t lump me in with the rest of ‘em.”
Your eyes widen. Dean grins down at you and takes the opportunity to kiss you again. His hand disappears in your hair and he presses kisses down your neck. A pleasant tingle breaks out across your skin as you tilt your head for him, giving him access.
Your fingers begin toying with his collar and glide down his chest. Unlike you, everything about him is firm, you think. But you start to think that he likes your softness, the thickness of your curves.
You didn’t take him for an ass man, but he seems very happy to get a fistful of it. It’s as flattering as it is arousing.
“I’ve wanted to get this perfect ass in my hands since the day we met,” he says. His voice is deep, full of grit and desire, but what he says next surprises you even more.
“Wanted to ask you out that night,” he confesses.
You pause at that. You met Sam and Dean two years ago already. The fact that he’d wanted to ask you out was one thing, but he’d been holding onto this for two years?
“Really?” you ask.
Dean reads your incredulity, huffing a laugh. “You’re really finding that hard to believe right now?”
He rocks against your clothed core so you can feel his reaction to you. You instinctively gasp and hold onto him. You slide your arms around his back to keep him close, even though you’re blushing. He holds you back, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
“Well, why didn’t you then?” you ask. But he hesitates to answer you.
“Dean?” you press.
“It…never seemed the right time,” he says. “And to be honest, you didn’t seem all that interested.”
Until now, goes unspoken. But you frown up at him.
“You don’t really believe that,” you say.
Dean leans back a bit, so you move your hands to his chest, gripping the fabric of his undershirt to he doesn’t go too far. He looks down at you, a bit uncertain for the first time. You can’t believe that he could possibly be insecure about your interest and affections.
“I attract a lot of crap in my life,” he admits. “Shit you want no part of.”
You soften further at that. Someone who was just going to hook up with you once and never call you again didn’t consider things like that. You grab onto the lapels of his plaid shirt and press a soft kiss to his jaw.
“Well, that’s a stupid reason,” you say. Is this the real reason he only calls you when he really needs the help?
Maybe it’s his convoluted way of protecting you…while maybe, still wanting to see you.
“It’s really not,” Dean shakes his head. “Truth be told…I’m no good for you either.”
That disheartens you.
You’re in this job too. And while you know that Sam and Dean are often at the center of a lot of Apocalypse-level shit, you still don’t think it’s an excuse to keep both you and Dean from possibly…being happy.
His gaze is steady, until it starts to lower away from you. You take his face in your hands, picking him back up to meet your eyes. Your thumbs caress the prickly stubble along his cheeks.
“Apparently I get with a lot of ain’t shit guys,” you reply, “but you’re definitely not one of them, Dean.”
He flickers at a smile, but he still isn’t convinced you two should do this after all.
So it’s up to you, you realize.
You bring him down to you for a kiss. It’s slow at first. You ply him with short, sweet presses of your lips to his. But then you both inhale as you deepen the kiss, tilting your head and prying his lips with your tongue. He can’t help but welcome you in, and he takes you back into his arms.
You smile against his lips, letting your hands run down his chest and under the top layer of plaid. He shrugs out of it, then the undershirt as you help him tug it up. It falls in a heap on the floor, followed closely by your hole-ridden Journey shirt, then your little shorts.
Dean takes in the sight of your flushed skin, the rise and fall of your breasts, and even the hesitant downturn of your lips. You’re a bit self-conscious, bared for him for the first time, but he doesn’t give you a reason to have any reservations.
His hands cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading, rolling his thumbs over the hardening buds. You let out a shaky breath against his lips, and you veer away from his mouth to burn a hot, wet trail down his neck. His voice rumbles, and you smile, nipping playfully and touching him wherever you see fit.
“Tell me what you said before,” he rasps into your ear.
You remain playfully tight-lipped as you continue to shower his bare skin with affection. But your breath hitches when a hand leaves your breast to once again slide up the inside of your thigh.
“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” he says. “That’s why I need you tell me…”
You lean close to his ear and whisper. “Nope.”
Dean’s chuckle shakes his frame. His other hand cups your cheek, slipping into your hair. You hold him to you, and for the first time it’s skin to skin, with your breasts pressing against his chest.
“All right…you sure I can’t convince you?” he asks. There’s a note of warning that you’re just a bit too slow to detect.
His fingers swiftly bypass your panties, pushing them aside so he can tease the seam of your pussy.
You bite your lip and lean back enough to see his face, to see the mischievous edge of his smirk. You inhale sharply when two of his fingers slip in and probe in your wet heat, but don’t go further than your entrance.
“Dean,” you whine. “Please…”
“Tell me,” he insists, “what you said.”
His lips graze your cheek, down the column of your neck. You feel the rasp of his stubble against your skin. Meanwhile, your pussy is pulsing with need, all but chasing his fingers that do no more than brush and tease. Your nails accidently bite into his shoulders in frustration.
He sucks in a pained breath. You gasp and apologize, soothing over his skin.
Dean just laughs and noses along your throat. He knows exactly what you need, but he wants to win the game.
At this point, you just want him.
So finally, you admit it. You confess into his ear the things you whispered in your mother tongue.
“I said, you dumb, beautiful man,” you say, smiling with your cheek pressed against his. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”
Dean grins into your neck. You really don’t realize it. But to him, your voice is rich as black velvet, and sexy as hell. Doesn’t matter what language you’re speaking.
Two of his fingers sink deeply into your pussy. You whimper, squeezing gratefully around his hand.
“Please, Dean…”
“I got you, baby. Just relax,” he says with a grin.
He explores your inner channel and begins to discover what you respond to, what angles make you grip onto him tighter, make your voice keen higher, especially when his thumb circles over your clit.
You cling to him for dear life, gripping his hair, uttering encouragements (not all of them in English), and finally praises when that hot coil within you snaps and releases.
Dean holds you while you come over his hand. You’re squeezing the shit out of him, really, in every way possible. But when that dam breaks, all you can do is lean against him and try to catch your breath.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he chuckles. He rubs your back, pets your hair.
“I’m…” you trail. You lean back and take his smug face in your hands, and you kiss him. You put into that gesture what your voice fails to confess.
And when both of you run out of breath, Dean pulls back just enough to see your eyes.
“We’re not done, by any damn means,” he says. That coffee still has him wired. And at this point, his cock is throbbing with need. “But let’s head over to my room.”
“Yeah, I think I need to help you with this before you implode,” you tease him with a gentle hand along his rock-hard length. He utters a strained sound that makes you sympathetic.
But before anything else, you caress his cheek fondly. Tonight matters to you, and you think it matters to him too. Dean flashes you a rare, boyish grin that has you smiling even harder.
Damn it. You might just love this man.
He helps you down from the counter, though his arms stay wrapped around you because of your jelly legs. His resolution is to pick you up over his shoulder.
“Let’s fly, baby!” With a swift spank of your ass, he carries you the rest of the way to his room. You squeal and try to stifle your giggles all the way there.
One thing’s for sure. Sam is going to hate you both in the morning.
AN: 😂 Well, that was fun! Please let me know what you thought.
**Just to preface, I am in fact a plus-sized Latina (Cuban, Puerto Rican and Dominican)! 🌶️🌶️
And I just want to say, I wrote a specific plus-sized body type here, but we're all different and equally beautiful in our shapes, skin tones, and otherwise outward trappings.
I like to think of us as a box of lovely assorted chocolates (not the cheap factory-made bullshit either. The chocolatier, handmade assortments that cost an arm and a leg, shipping not included).
Each delectable and unique, with something extra special inside. 😘
Keep Reading:
Yes, this has become a series! Next up is "Devour Me":
Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for.
▶️ Next Story: Devour Me (Part 1)
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#midnight espresso#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#spn#supernatural#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x you#dean x you#dean winchester x plus sized!reader#dean winchester x latina!reader#dean winchester x plus size!reader#dean winchester x poc!reader#poc!reader#latina!reader#plus sized reader#sam winchester#midnight espresso verse#zepskies writes
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ohhh also TTN!Hobie request if you’re up for it: R runs into him as Spider-Punk for the first time and decides to shamelessly flirt with him. Up to you if Hobie knows that R knows or not.
(i kinda took it as a hobie doesn’t really hide it from R but doesn’t say it either situation, but I might have misread it lol)
AHHH I LOVE THIS PROMPT SM! 😘 thank you, bestie!! ❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the Reader ( Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), CW canon typical violence, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader, Fluff.
TTN oneshots Masterlist
Set before this fic, but could be read as a standalone.
ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
The toddler squirms in Hobie's hold, crying and soaking his leather vest. Swinging quickly yet carefully, Spider-Man makes his way back towards the child's mother whilst avoiding the fire blasting from the apartment building. Flames lick at his back, soot covering his suit, turning it slightly grey. He can already imagine the look on your face once you see his vest looking like someone tried to cook it.
Landing gracefully on the sidewalk, the boy's mother weaves through the panicked crowd trying to get to her son. Hobie quickly hands the child in her arms and they reunite. The boy clings to his mother with a tight grip, still wailing from the fear shaking his tiny body.
"Thank you!" She says through tears in her eyes.
"Be good, little man" Hobie nods, sighing in relief, web aimed towards a skyscraper to swing to another incident he heard through one of the police car's radios.
Swinging into action, his eyes darted downwards towards the street. The crowd parts for a man running at full speed, dressed in a dark hoodie, clutching a handbag that's clearly not his. Hobie knits his brows when the robber pushes someone hard on the ground. Thankfully another person helped them up, seeing them unscathed, Hobie continued the chase.
Diving down, Hobie extends his long legs aiming directly towards the man's back. He lands face first on the pavement, knocked out and unconscious. Hobie hops off the criminal's back, picking up the fallen bag to give it back to the owner that's surely not far behind.
"Thank fuck!" A familiar voice heaves behind him. "Hell, give me a minute" trying to catch your breath, hands on your knees for a respite.
Hobie whirls around, the eyes of his mask as wide as dinner plates, now realizing why the handbag was so familiar. His tongue already forming your name, he stops himself from uttering it by biting his tongue.
You stand up straight, grin widening as you see your roomate saving the day once again. Albeit literally this time instead of finding your coat for you or fixing you breakfast before you wake.
Hobie doesn't know that you've figured out he's Spider-Man, you intend to keep it that way until he decides to tell you.
"Hi" you say breathlessly, eyes already roaming for injuries, only finding his suit covered in ash and in need of a repair, especially his vest. You ignore your ruined handiwork for now.
Hand reaching out for Hobie, you stop yourself from hugging him with the excuse of taking your bag back. You are in public after all.
"Thank you, Spider-Man" winking, you don't miss the opportunity to tease him and make the Spider-Man flustered.
Hobie rolls his eyes under the mask, but you know the movement all too well with how he slightly tilted his head. Coming to a stop in front of him, so close that the tips of your heels kiss his steel toed boots. His chest heaving up and down from the adrenaline. The spikes on his head glimmer in the sun as he moves his head to peek back at the robber, just in case he already woke up. But you know the truth, he has no idea how to act, hiding it from you and the crowd. He can't reciprocate without compromising your relationship and risk letting his secret out before he could tell you. So he has no choice but to take it. You absolutely know this but of course you won't go too far.
You tilt your head as cute as you can, eyelashes batting at him, lips curling into a mischievous smile. Hobie's hand twitches briefly and instinctively trying to reach for yours. The crowd looks on, thinking another fan is trying to flirt with their resident friendly neighborhood spidey.
Slowly and painfully reaching towards his hand, you slide it down at the last minute, pinky only grazing his glove, but enough to make electricity appear on his skin. You take your bag back, the handle still being held by Hobie, in some sort of pseudo hand holding, you both hold onto it, still looking at him teasingly. You can only imagine his face underneath, oh you'll give anything just to see it right now.
"How can I ever thank you?" You say sweetly, the same voice you use when you two are alone at home.
If the circumstances were different he would've said 'I can think of a way' instead, he grunts in reply, making you snort in return. Hobie refrains from talking, if he talks you'll identify his voice in a heartbeat even if he tries to mask it by making it a pitch higher, he's sure you'll know it's him.
Standing on your tiptoes, you stabilize yourself with your hand over his chest, you can feel his heartbeat slowing down underneath. You smile, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.
"There, a proper thank you" your breath fans his clothed cheek. A way for you to show him you support him being Spider-Man. Hobie would feel a twinge of jealousy if it was another bloke's cheek on your lips right now but him and Spider-Man are one and the same. He stops himself from leaning into your lips.
Hobie's stomach is in knots, his gut telling him you know about his secret. He lets go of your purse, palm cupping your elbow in an attempt to give you his own affection, albeit a small action compared to the usual.
Pulling away, you smile fondly at him, a secret shared between you. Hobie decides there and then to reveal to you his other identity when he gets home. You deserve to know, he loves you too much to keep that part of his life hidden from you.
Hobie watches you walk away, reminiscent of you in the airport just before you moved away. You chose not to look back that time, because if you did, you would've stayed.
This time, you look over your shoulder, waving with a smile. Not a goodbye like last time. A promise you'd see him at home.
#request done#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#hobie brown#the kr8tor's creations#spider punk#x reader#atsv fanfiction#spider man across the spider verse#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#atsv fluff#atsv hobie#hobie brown x fem!reader#hobie brown x you#spider punk x fem!reader#spider punk x you#hobie x reader#cw violence#hobie fluff#fluff#ttn one shot#ttn! hobie and reader#fanfic
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Hiding in the bathroom from a man rn lmao
Aidlyn headcanons because...please? Please? They make me sick /positive
These aren't all fluffy or whatever because they traumatized af and relationships like that are...difficult... but not impossible.
-he's 8-ish months older than her and like, 20ish cms taller (sorry I don't know how American feet work lol 😭)
-He hyperfixated on the relationship lmao.
-Clingy...they BOTH are. In different ways I mean but. They are both clingy. They're scared the other is gonna die when they aren't around lol 🙃 Aiden is ofc very touchy and grabby, he just has to FEEL that she's with him. Also type of guy to call at 2am "hey bby u good?". Ash gets antsy if she hasn't seen or heard from him in a while (a while means like 2 hours) especially since he like spam texts her every 5 seconds. But he also hyperfixates or disassociates for a while and will forget 🤡 like she will yell at him about why he didn't call her for 17 hours and he'll just be like "um sorry. I was. Staring at a wall."
-he has a lot of weird/cringy ass pet names for her that makes her want to slap him; probably calls her Bae or whatever. Ash nicknames for Aiden: Idiot, stupid, dumbass, public safety hazard...called him "dear" like once just to try it and hated it. "Mr. Durable" if she wants to annoy him.
-worlds worst pick up lines. Ash NEVER understands them.
-he loves surprises! Surprise him! He wants to surprise Ash too! She kinda hates this. They decided to "compromise": he will tell her beforehand that there is a "surprise" and gives her little clues/puzzles so she can figure out whatever it is. He has like 0 patience tho so he always helps her figure them out 🤡 Ash likes watching him get excited about the puzzles and doing them together more than the surprise half of the time.
-Him infodumping is like white noise so she can sleep lol.
-they try to do things the other likes since Ash thinks this is important for a "healthy relationship". Almost died when they went to an indoor rock climbing place 💀 but she got to see Aiden in a leotard when they did ballet together so it was a fair trade (blackmail)
-he is her hypeman at ballet recitals, will probably cheer when she comes on stage and has a sign and everything, the rest of the gang (and Ash) is just like "...we don't know this guy"
-she wishes he took care of himself more. Sends him stuff like "did you drink any water today", "Ben told me you're gonna skateboard down the hill please dont", or "IF YOU SET YOUR BOOKS ON FIRE IM GONNA CALL THE POLICE" <3
-sometimes if she's sad she just kinda. Falls on his back. Like a koala or smth. She has that "I literally cannot do anything" sort of depression (which to be fair Aiden also has sometimes). Aiden carries her around.
-when nobody's looking she kisses his cheek, cuz she knows his face is usually sore from smiling so much.
-pretty low key on her part, but Aiden is so obvious everybody knows 💀 She doesn't like PDA (more so the fact that people stare) but Aiden will usually put his arm around her shoulders or waist/give her a smooch (not on the mouth) <3 it's honestly not that different from how he was when they were just friends ngl 🤡
-he says "I love you" easily, because it genuinely is the easiest thing in the world for him. He has 0 doubts about how he feels for her. Ash doesn't say it a lot cuz she feels weird saying it, so she does her best to show it in other ways.
-he gets jealous easily *siiiiigh* It's cuz he's insecure!!! Help him! 😭 He doesn't get annoyed with her because like. Ash pays about as much attention to other guys (I mean besides Tyler, Ben and Logan) as she does to dust. But he will death glare at any guy they don't know that's staring at her 💀
-kinda codependent... *looks at the floor* they are working on it. Sometimes Aiden feels like he's only alive for her. (I- Look at episode 61- IVE BEEN IN HIS POSITION. AIDEN BABY THIS AINT HEALTHY)
-absolute dork. Draws "A.C. + A.B." in a little heart in his note margins because he's goofy like that.
-he fell first she fell harder NO I will not be taking any criticism for this.
Anyways it's raining outside so I'll just post this now
#sbg#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard webtoon#sbg (webtoon)#aiden clark#ashlyn banner#aidlyn#ashden#aiden x ashlyn#headcanon
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hii!! could you write about a tall female reader with Konig or ghost (or both) like she is not taller than them, but taller than the average girl and is very insecure about her height because everyone tells her men don't like tall women🥲 you can make it both sfw and nsfw I don't mind
this was a super nice little blurb to write !! thank u anon for requesting it, i've always been kind of insecure about my height too since i'm 5'7" which isn't rlly that tall but like. still taller than a lot of other women lol, anyways i hope u like this! <<33
✎ tags: mdni!, female reader, not specified as military!reader but can go either way, fluff + comfort, a bit of spice but mostly sfw
✎ word count: 500 words (not proofread)
masterlist | requests are open!
♡ simon "ghost" riley
— simon doesn't really care much about how tall you are, especially compared to other people. if anything, it's reassuring to him; it makes you more capable of defending yourself, it makes you stronger and more resilient, in more ways than just physical. he won't be oblivious to your insecurities and brush them off; instead, he'll try in his own way to help you build your confidence with it.
— we all know he's not the most emotionally "available" man out there, so the occasions that he verbally comforts you about it are few and far apart. the things he says to help are short and indirect, short praises whenever your height comes into play in a good way. it's mostly during the training he helps you with. grins and a proud "well done" whenever you pin him or get in a move that would have hit hard on him.
— whenever you're in private and he can see the negative thoughts about your above-average height starting to pool in your head, simon makes sure to prove to you just how attracted to you he is. he couldn't give less of a fuck that you're taller than average- it's not like he can't still manhandle you any and every way he wants. it'll be more of a positive than anything else, since there's just more space for him to claim with his mouth and hands.
♡ könig
— könig isn't as "indifferent" as simon will be- he'll be thrilled by it. not the part where you're insecure about your height, but your height itself. he knows exactly what it's like to be bigger than everyone around you, for you to be denied or have a more difficult time on certain paths in life because of it. which means he'll know exactly how to comfort you!
— he'll be full of reassurances for you regarding how much he loves you and your height. there's more of you to love, you're naturally better equipped to learn how to defend yourself, you can reach the top shelf easily; there's more benefits than negatives if you know where to look for them. könig thinks the best thing about it is that you only have to stand on your tippy-toes to give him a kiss.
— no matter what, this goliath of a man is going to be bigger than you, and he's still going to be thrilled about it. with your height, it's a nice break from having to be as cautious as possible with anyone else he might be around. he'll still hold you like you're made of glass, still pick you up and move you however he likes, but he knows you're tougher than the rest, and he makes sure you know it too.
#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mw2#call of duty#cod fluff#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#konig x reader#könig x reader#könig#konig#female reader#reader insert#— ask!#— lilly writes! ♡
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Good Boy | Shy!Eli x Chubby!Fem!Reader
Popular!Reader 💖 NSFW Blurb (unedited)
I love writing shy!Eli. Deal with it? lol (@sensei-venus 😈)
"Right there! Right there!" Reader moans under Eli, head thrown back into his pillows. She looks so pretty, plush and swollen lips falling open as she lets out pretty sounds. Noises he thought he'd never hear before. "Please, right there, again!"
"Like this?" he asks softly, eyes shifting between her face and bouncing tits. His mouth waters at the sight, but focusing on slightly angling his hips to hit the spot she likes so much. As he thrusts into her, she cries out again.
"Yes! Yes! Just like that- oh god!"
Her walls tighten around him and he groans over her, dropping his head and letting his forehead rest against her shoulder. She pulls him closer, his fingers digging into the back of his shoulders. He knows he's not going to last much longer, so he keeps pushing into her at a steady pace. He makes sure to hit that spot deep inside her that makes her velvet walls suffocate his cock.
He can hardly believe they're doing this. He's only ever dreamed of being with Reader, but he never knew she knew he even existed. She's so smart, pretty, and popular while he's nothing more than a loser... why would she know who he is? Yet here she is taking his virginity. And loving every second of it.
"I-I don't know how much... how much longer I can last," he pants. Her hand runs through his hair, nails scraping over his scalp lightly and making him groan. He picks his head up and looks at her, seeing the admiration and lust in her eyes.
"It's okay," she tells him. "Don't hold back."
Her assurance gives him enough peace of mind that it only takes a few strokes more to make him come. Her name falls from his lips as he fires the first spurt of hot cum into her cunt, feeling the way her walls clench around him as he throbs. As his balls draw up, he thinks he shouldn't do this. He has to pull out, because why would she ever want his cum in her?
He starts to pull out and she wraps her legs around him, pushing him back into her. He bottoms out and whines, cock engulfed in her warm pussy, tip almost brushing her cervix. She starts grinding her hips up into her, milking him for every ounce of cum he'll give her.
Then she breathes out, "good boy..." and his hips buck into her.
He gasps as he ruts into her, his pelvis harshly rubbing against her clit and in seconds has her coming on his cock. Her pussy spasms around his throbbing cock and his blunt tip hammers into her cervix, ensuring she takes all of his fat load into her womb.
She cries with pleasure, holding onto him with an almost deadly grip. It's a beautiful sound, with a chorus of his name mixed with moans of pure pleasure. When it begins to quiet, she grabs his face and pulls him close.
"Good boy," she whispers just before kissing him. It's hard and heavy and she shoves her tongue into his mouth. Her legs are tight around him, her thick thighs soft and warm over his waist. His hips are still lightly, pathetically humping into her; his cock is still filling her, though he's starting to taper off. Everything feels amazing and makes him moan into her mouth, planting his hands onto the bedsheets as he has no idea what else to do with them.
His legs are shaky when it's over. His high passes and she's still holding him inside of her, even after he's gone soft. There's a burning in his muscles and he whines when her walls clench around his sensitive cock. She hums softly, easing him to rest on her chest, running a hand through his hair. His body relaxes on top of hers and he melts into her warmth and the plush softness that is her.
Even though when they stand side by side he's taller, he feels small laying against her. Her fat tits almost envelop his head and she has an arm lazily thrown around his waist, using the tip of her finger to draw little shapes onto his back. Her legs finally fall from around him, but he doesn't dare pull out. It feels too nice, he could fall asleep like that, no worries filling his mind about any of it.
When her nails scratch his scalp, he moans and buries his face in her tits.
"Too much?" she asks sweetly, pulling her hand away.
"No!" he whines and looks up at her. His cheeks are still aflame with the heat of what they'd just done, but they burn scarlet as he admits something to her. "I like it..."
She replaces her hand and continues to gently scrap her nails over his scalp with a smile. She presses a kiss to his forehead and he feels assured to lay his head down again. "Good boy."
The pet name sends a shiver up his spine and he squeezes her tightly in his arms. She lets out a cross between a moan and a hum, but is never deterred from her small movements. She just grabs a blanket and throws it over them the best she can; he helps, then snuggles into her.
As she calls him it again, he's very happy to be her good boy.
#shy!eli#shy eli moskowitz#popular!reader#eli moskowitz imagine#eli hawk moskowitz#eli moskowitz x chubby reader#eli moskowitz smut#eli moskowitz x reader#eli moskowitz#hawk moskowitz x reader#hawk moskowitz x chubby reader#hawk moskowitz smut#hawk moskowitz#cobra kai smut thought#cobra kai smut#cobra kai#cobra kai headcanons#cobra kai x reader#cobra kai x chubby reader#cobra kai x plus size reader#chubby reader#plus size reader#cobra kai blurbs#smut blurb#gemini sensei
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Petals (Roy!Sibling x Connor Roy)
Character/s: Connor, Shiv, Roman, Logan, Willa, Marcia
Word Count: 1,315
Requested: hello! is it okay if i request more roy baby sibling and connor? i’d like to see them asking connor to dance at shiv’s wedding (or maybe even at his wedding?)! thank you :) - anon
Requested: your younger roy sibling hcs have been rotting my brain recently and now im imagining 8 year old them making a drawing for connor's birthday that is them holding hands with big hearts and "wish you were my daddy" written in big kid letters (probably with spelling mistakes) and connor just like. sobbing when he reads it. i feel like hed be such a big father role to a significantly younger sibling (i personally imagine them and roman having a around 10 year gap, so thats probably like ~35 years of different between them and connor). and we all know what a shitty dad logan is/was, so i can see younger sibling calling connor after some big fight with logan and crying while begging him to pick them up and let them live with him and it breaks his heart cause logan would never let it happen and he tried but couldnt protect ken and shiv and rome and he just wishes he could at least protect his baby sib but he just cant and it kills him. anyway happy thursday thought haha roy family brainrot - @fromirkwood
Inspired By: Petals on the Moon by Wasia Project
Tag: @locke-writes
A/N: I know the second one wasn't exactly a request, but I couldn't get it out of my head!!! Big Bro Connor is my absolute favorite!! I hope this doesn't rot in your brain too long my love lol. I just couldn't get it out of my head, especially when it was combined with the other request!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜
Time is a thief, at least that’s what he thinks when he looks at you, spinning with your sister on the dance floor. Your smile is so bright, so wide, your cheeks flushed. You drank too much, no doubt it was Roman refilling your glass without your notice. The song picks up speed, picks up in joy, and you break out into laughter, you and Shivy. It’s as if you’re in your own world and only she’s in it. You spin and jump and sing along, your niece and nephew beside you and the bride. He hasn’t seen you this electric, this alive, so much like your old self, in weeks. Connor considered himself lucky to be able to watch, to bear witness. Just moments ago you were a baby, doodling with your thick crayons, mistakenly calling him Dad instead of Logan. Only recently had he learned that's who he was in your phone, Dad, that Logan was simply Logan. Years pass, but so little changes. He still had all your fathers day cards stashed away, hidden before your real father caught what you were doing. Stick figures, one tall, one small, hand in hand surrounded by flowers and butterflies and other bugs. Happy Fathers Day Connor. Your uppercase letters always slanted, crooked, his name spelled with one N instead of two. It wasn’t long until his figure started sprouting gray hair, graying far earlier than anyone else in the family, and yours grew taller every year. Connor feared you might have forgotten about him, that you were getting too old to need your eldest brother like your siblings had, but you proved him wrong after that night.
You hadn’t even wanted to go to the wedding. It was so bad. Whatever was said and done remained a mystery. You wouldn’t tell him, tell anyone, just that it was bad. He’d gone with Willa to pick something out for you, knowing you left the house with nothing. You refused to try it on, to come out of the spare bedroom. It wasn’t until the day before when they were getting ready to leave, accepting that there was no way you were going, did you come out with your outfit packed. You weren’t going to miss Shiv's big day because of him, you declared, and it was settled. He couldn’t contain his excitement, grinning from ear to ear. Letting her down, letting him down, just because of your old man, it seemed like a cruel punishment. You sat beside him in the plane, his hand on your knee, trying to disregard the dread in your chest. They’d all heard about your big blow out, they all wanted to know, going to Connor first instead of you. You were the closest, you told him everything. When he had nothing to say, when all he could offer was a warning, it said something, something more than he was expecting: whatever happened got to you. It genuinely hurt you. They imagined the worst, unsure of what to do. He was at a loss, too. Your father could say and do as he pleased, you’d always been the best at ignoring him, especially when he was in one of his moods, but this time? This time was different. It stung more than all of the other fights you’d had with him, and there were some memorable ones. Never had you yelled back like that, never had you stormed out in a fury, never had you sobbed to your brother like that on the phone. This wasn’t the kind of thing that would go away on its own. It wouldn’t heal with time.
He could almost forget the crack in your voice as he watched you now. That sad, crying child looked so different from the young adult on the dance floor. Eventually you came over to him, asking him to dance. As if on cue, a slower song came on. This was far different than the last time you danced together. You stood on his shoes, swaying, giggling that high pitched giggle, the one that made his heart melt. You were so little then, so tiny, he was scared to let go. Now you swayed on your own, your arms around him as if you’re scared he’ll flee, your face buried into his chest. Thank you for letting me stay with you. It came out mumbled, muffled, but he understood. Anytime, kiddo. You’re a pleasure to have. Your eyes were big when you looked up at him, as if trying to decipher if he was telling the truth or not. His smile, so reassuring, told you he meant it. I’m sorry about Pops. you shook your head, not wanting to hear his name, not wanting your brother to carry the guilt for him. If he was going to apologize you were going to hear it from him. Not anyone else. Connor spent the entire night putting distance between the two of you, becoming your human shield. Logan, it seemed, had completely forgotten about the whole ordeal, kissing Shiv, saying hello to your brothers, like nothing was amiss. They each shared a glance, all looking to Connor for help, for guidance, just like they had when they were little. He knew what he had to do. How bad was it, kiddo? He asks. Bad. It’s all you can say without upsetting yourself all over again.
He called you his greatest failure. Spineless. A mistake. You don’t remember how it started, only that you were bleeding out on the floor before him and he refused to put the knife down. A plague to the Roy name, a curse, a bad seed. You never should have been born. A loser. Incompetent. He’s not sure where you came from, but you are certainly not his. You should be smarter, work harder, but instead you are nothing, you are nobody. No one has ever or will ever love you. It hits you so hard, so forcefully, it knocks the wind out of you. He means it, he means every word, but especially that. That’s what kills you, that’s what makes the tears slip down your cheeks. That’s not true, you try to spit back, but he’s not listening and you’re crying, and you’re proving him right. He keeps talking. You can’t hear it, though. You’re gone. You’ve retreated into yourself, so far back he cannot possibly get you. You stand there, unmoving, as he gets in your face. No one has or will ever love you. No one has or will ever love you. It plays on loop, again and again until you cannot breathe. Finally you back away, you run from him, slamming each door behind you. Marcia calls out to you, hearing what went down, but nothing can stop you. Through the busy sidewalks, sobbing uncontrollably, you call him. You can’t repeat what he said, you still can’t. You know that would make him furious, all of them, and it is not their burden to carry. A quiet fear has settled in the back of your mind: what if he’s right?
If he knew, if Connor knew, he would have killed his father. No one said that to his baby, no one ever dared talk to you that way. But he doesn’t, and he never will. You have vowed to yourself that neither him nor your other siblings will know, for fear that they might agree with him. That they’ll show you he’s right. Instead they watch you carefully, ready to intervene should that be necessary. You hold on to him tight long after the song ends, not wanting to let go, to be alone with Logan's words. Connor doesn’t mind at all. He’s his happiest when his siblings need him, when you need him. He’ll always be there to rescue you. Always. It’s his job, you’re his greatest love. You all are.
#requested#writing#connor roy#connor roy imagine#connor roy x reader#succession#succession imagine#succession x reader#logan roy#logan roy imagine#logan roy x reader
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FOR FLUFTOBER,,, domestic satan content, where you finally get to adopt some cats with him. the preparation hed do would be more than most people do for their literal babies
Hello there, anon!
SO. I spent some time thinking about the scenario here, but in the end I decided not to describe the setting. That way you can kind of insert Satan, MC, and the cats into whatever setting you like. At first I thought it could be the House of Lamentation in a situation where Lucifer finally lifted the cat ban. But then I also thought it could be that Satan and MC had their own place somewhere. And then I thought it could be interesting if Satan decided to move into Cocytus Hall only so that he could circumvent Lucifer's cat ban lol. I actually really like that last idea, but knowing me it'd end up with too much Solomon in it.
As for the cats, I dunno I just made some stuff up. Which to be fair is what I do for most of the stuff I write lol. I find that shelters tend to give cats ridiculous names that are either just regular human names or something completely out of left field. I also realize that the cats might've been scared and decided to hide upon being in a new environment. However, I based this quite a bit on the day I brought my own cat home. She wasn't scared at all and in the end she fell asleep on my lap.
Anyway, it's a bit cheesy, but I liked the prompt 'cause I'm always happy to write about cats.
Thank you for submitting a prompt!
FLUFFTOBER 2023
GN!MC x Satan
Warnings: none!
"Satan. Did you move the cat tree again?"
You were looking at the cat tree - a piece of carpet covered furniture that was taller than you. It had certainly been in a different spot before, but now it stood in front of the window.
Satan came up to stand behind you. "Of course," he said. "But this is the last time. Don't you think they'll want to be able to look out of the window?"
You cocked your head a little bit, trying to imagine the cats perched upon the tree. He was right. They probably would appreciate being able to look out the window from a tall vantage point.
"All right," you said. "I agree. But you have to stop moving it around."
"I won't have time to move it again," Satan said, glancing at the clock. "We have to go."
You turned to look at him. He had a calm expression, looking relaxed, but you could see the trembling behind his green eyes. He was excited and nervous, his feelings all in a jumble. He tried to smooth them out, keep them below the surface, but you had learned to read him long ago.
You took his hand and smiled. "Everything is going to go perfectly. You'll see."
He really didn't have anything to worry about. Satan was nothing if not thorough. He had stocked up on high quality cat food and the finest of fancy cat treats. There was a box that was overflowing with cat toys of all shapes and sizes. Several cat scratchers were placed strategically around the room. The floofiest cat beds you'd ever seen had been procured. He even purchased a robotic litter box.
All that was left now was to get the cats themselves.
The two of you walked to the adoption center, picked up the cats, and brought them back. Satan was practically vibrating with nervous energy as you put the carriers on the floor, opening the doors, and allowing the cats into the room.
The first one to come out of his carrier was a handsome long haired tuxedo cat. He sat down in the middle of the room, looking at you and then Satan and then at the cat tree.
"You know, I was surprised when you pointed this guy out to me," you said. You were sitting on the ground with a pile of cat toys nearby, waiting to see what the black cat would do. "He reminds me so much of Lucifer."
"Me, too," Satan said.
This surprised you enough to look up at him, but Satan's eyes were on the cat.
Before you could inquire further, the second cat poked her head out of her carrier. This was a calico cat with a sweet face. She came over to sit beside the black cat. They were already friends from their time in the shelter.
"And this one reminds me of you," Satan said.
Another surprise, but he still wasn't looking at you. Satan hadn't told you any of this before, simply bringing each of the cats to you for your approval. You had loved them both instantly. The black cat was a little aloof, but sweet once he got to know you. The calico loved everyone and was always rolling over for tummy rubs.
You laughed. "Really? She reminds you of me?"
Satan met your eyes then, as if he was startled by the fact that he had said anything about it at all. He blushed and looked away again. "Her agreeable personality and ability to befriend anyone is similar to you, that's all."
You tried to hold in another laugh because you didn't want to embarrass him. "They named her Kitchen."
Satan sighed. "We can change her name."
"Beel would like it," you said.
"He would. Are you suggesting we keep it?" Satan asked.
You shrugged. "It is kind of funny. But I think we should keep Maurice."
"Maurice is a good cat name," Satan agreed. He bent down and picked up one of the cat toys, a long pole with a string and a stuffed mouse on the end.
The black cat, Maurice, instantly jumped at it, catching it easily in his claws. He meowed and swished his tail as Satan pulled it away only to dangle it near him again.
The calico sauntered over to you and pressed her head into your hand. You rubbed between her ears and she began to purr.
"She's so sweet," you said.
Satan looked over at you. "Sugar."
You frowned. "Huh?"
"Her name," Satan said.
You grinned. "It's perfect. And I think Beel will still like it."
Satan chuckled. "I'm glad you approve."
The cats eventually found their way to the cat tree. Satan sat down to watch them inspect it and you sat beside him. For some time, the two of you sat in silence, watching the cats as they climbed the tree, finding all of its toys and spaces.
Eventually, both Maurice and Sugar came over to the couch, apparently having decided that curling up together on Satan's lap was preferable to remaining in the cat tree. You scooted closer, leaning in against Satan as he put an arm around you. How both cats managed to fit on his lap, you weren't sure, but they did.
You kissed Satan's cheek. "Are you happy?"
Satan looked over at you and the way his eyes shone with joy answered your question. "More than I've ever been. I have these two. And I have you."
Satan kissed you, gently and softly, the cats purring in his lap. It was a moment that you would hold in your heart for the rest of your life. It was the moment you thought of when you heard the word home.
flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me fluff#obey me flufftober#obey me satan#om satan#satan obey me#obey me satan x reader#om satan x reader#satan obey me x reader#misc flufftober 2023#misc writes
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Could you do the m6 and courteirs with a short [like around 5ft] s/o?
Yes!! Relatable, I'm barely above 5'2 also 😭😭
Asra💜:
Way too smug about it
Like, they're only around 5'5-5'6, it's not like it's a big height difference, but they still while just look at you and start snickering at your height.
He'll probably rest his hand on your hand and grin down at you, just to mess with you
Makes a few comments about you being 'pocket sized' and things of the sort, and won't stop making horrible height jokes
(Asra literally makes dad jokes stg)
Will always just tilt their chin up when you go to kiss them, just to play with you a bit until they finally lean down and kiss you
Julian🦠:
Oh my god he loves it.
He has no end of adorable nicknames for you, as he's nearly six foot, and will call you thinks like, "שורטי" or "tiny" just to mess with you.
Will definitely do that thing where he'll just slowly start leaning until he's using your head as an armrest as he smirks down at you.
Will purposely not lean down to kiss you and be like oh no?? Are you not tall enough?? Before he starts laughing his ass off.
Will like, manspread by grabbing onto the tops of doorways just to flex that he's taller lol.
Muriel💙:
Thinks it's cute.
He's around six foot but probably will only tease you about your height sometimes.
After all, he does think it's very cute and he doesn't want you to be insecure about it.
He'll always lean down to give you a kiss, or pick you up if you'd prefer that.
Might pay your head though, just for convenience (that's what he tells himself, at least)
Nadia💎:
Her heels are even more useful, now.
She's slightly above average height too, but will definitely tease you.
She might give you some of her heels if you like them to be a bit taller, but she loves your height
She thinks it's adorable, honestly.
Will probably call you something cute cause of your height like "छोटा" or "tiny".
She dosent do that thing where she uses your as an armrest, but she definitely might pretend to sit her cup on your head for a few seconds to mess with you, because she's silly. (eee she's so silly I love her!!!)
Portia🧡:
Finally, she's taller than someone!
While she might only be a couple of inches taller than you, she will absolutely flaunt it.
She might even wear heels and insist you're shrinking.
Just like her brother, if she's able to, she'll use your head as an armrest to mess with you.
She probably also loves to give you forehead kisses and stuff cuz of the height difference!!
Lucio👑:
As if he wasn't cocky enough.
He's doing literally everything in his power to tease you.
Like, literally, he's leaning on your head, setting things on your head, pressing a tape measure up your height, all he can do to mess with you.
It amuses him to no end, especially if you laugh or get grumpy about it.
He's a little shit though, and probably does it just cause he thinks it's funny.
Thinks it's also very cute though.
Valerius🍷:
He never says anything about it.
But that doesn't mean he can't totally mess with you for it.
He'll definitely hide some of your heeled shoes if you have any for fun, but he will give them back if you ask.
He'll like, very subtlety lean against you so that the height difference is more obvious.
If you slouch, he just grins a bit, cause that makes me you look even shorter, and he also definitely stands to his full height.
He likes being taller, it makes him feel more confident. Dosent mean he dislikes your height though, he really adores it.
Vlastomil🐛:
This motherfucker is tall as SHIT
Like taller than Julian lever kind of tall not as tall as Valdemar (SHH IGNORE CANON SHHH SHHH) but this bitch is just like TALL.
He's usually taller than everyone else, but having such a height difference on you makes him chuckle to himself.
He'll tease you by comparing you to one of his worms, and will probably pat your head and playfully push it down.
Might even measure you once or twice and be like oh, yes, you're very small, haha
Volta🍰:
Valdemar💉:
JSNSSJS THEY LITERALLY WONT SHUT UP ABOUT IT
Insists that you must have been "destined" to be short, to be their side table.
You think it's bad that Valerius might tap his wine glass against your head? WELL VAL IS LITERALLY 10 TIMES WORSE
They'll set their tools or papers on your head for minutes at a time and literally won't take them off till you start begging.
Might tug you up to kiss them just cause they can, or deny you kisses until you figure out a way to reach them.
All in all, they're very happy about it.
Very happy.
HEHSSHSHDGD SHES LITERALLY SO SHORT
Like I'd say she's around 5'2 MAYBE 5'3 so she's just happy to have a partner that's her height.
She dosent really tease you, more like she just jokes sometimes about how she's happy to have someone the same height as her for good kissing.
She also like might wear heels and be like oh my god what did you know turns out I'm taller.
She also jokes about you two having it good because you both 'get hit by rain last'.
She honestly loves it she thinks you two being the same height is so awesome .
Vulgora⚔️:
They are so smug.
They're only around 5'5 or PERHAPS 5'6 there's only a couple of inches in height difference, but they'll never miss the opportunity to tease you about it.
They might even wear heels just to show that THEY are taller, NOT you.
They kind of make it a competition, just like everything else.
But they also won't miss the opportunity to compliment your height, mention that they think it's adorable.
Will lean on your head and give you a few forehead kisses because you're the perfect height for it
❀
#the arcana fanfic#the arcana game#the arcana#the arcana apprentice#reqs open#requests are welcome#asra alnazar#nadia satrinava#muriel the hermit#muriel the arcana#julian devorak#julian the arcana#julian the doctor#portia devorak#portia the arcana#valdemar the arcana#quaestor valdemar#valdemar#valdemar x mc#the arcana valerius#vlastomil#praetor vlastomil#the arcana vlastomil#volta the arcana#the arcana vulgora#vulgora x reader#pontifex vulgora#vulgora
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How would the Icons feel about their obsession being massive, like taller than them kinda massive, towering over them? (they’d obviously not be human in this cause lol)
I have a height complex and NEED to be taller than everyone U-U
Icons with someone who towers over them
To tower over Vorticia, you'd have to be... Some kind of creature, for sure. She's not used to not being the tallest, ever, so this is definitely something she'll have to slowly adapt to. She doesn't feel threatened, but she does find herself gawking at you often. You're... Beautiful. Elegant, powerful. She's never been so taken before. Please, please hold her just once.
Zizz is also heavily surprised. But given he's already had contact with someone bigger than himself (Vorticia), it takes less for him to accept it. He's happy to finally be able to lean on you when he feels sleepy. In fact, he'd like to nap on you like a cat if you'd let him. If you pick up this demon, he will go lights out within seconds, guaranteed. Who knew he'd enjoy being the small spoon so much?
Kalymir is so fucking HYPED. You're formidable! You're a total beast! You're power incarnate and he wants you to show him just how brutal you can be. Wreck him! He'd love to actually fight you one on one, you'll never hear him more hysterical than when you manage pin him down- The Icon might actually cum himself. This is fucking amazing for him, he's never been a trophy husband before, but like Hell he's complaining.
Vesper is, albeit a little surprised, mostly horny. Can you blame him? It's very rare that he meets somebody who can manhandle him, so he's definitely itching to find out how you'll put him to use. His beautiful Queen will have toys made to her size, lingerie that fits you to a T, the whole nine yards, he doesn't care if he looks like a dwarf next to you, he's in cloud nine. You beautiful, hot giantess slut.
Rinx hopes your hands are also bigger, so you can hold his in yours and make him feel more proportionate. The first thing he does is order a couple dozen new sets of clothes for you, because obviously, it must be hard to find anything high-quality with your size- You poor, poor thing. You're his biggest treasure, literally. You're invaluable, and your magnitude only serves to showcase that! You're the biggest gem he could ever want, and he'll squeal like a school girl should you ever pick him up like you OWN him.
Livius is your personal scarf, it seems. He's not particularly bothered by you being taller than him, mostly because the lord of Envy never really stands completely straight- But oh he won't be deterred. He's likely to wrap his bendy limbs all around you and, depending on the size difference, rest on your back or shoulder like a parrot. This is fine by him! Really, he's having a ball. Sometimes, he might feel envious of your size, something he can't really mimic no matter how hard he tries, but it's an intrusive thought he can will away without too much effort.
Cero is mildly... Put off. It doesn't really sit right with him that he's not taller that you. He'd like it if you had to look up at him, but there's not much he can do aside from ordering you to crawl- Which is definitely something that makes his pants feel tight. Size isn't all however, he'll find ways of asserting himself, rest assured. Nonetheless, the fact you're so tall is good in the long-run. A prideful ruler should tower above all others, head held high and chin up, stepping on any and all who cross your way, you are to be the pinnacle of elegance next to him.
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GOTHPOOL - Milo Mason
Earth 138 - Hobie's Deadpool
Milo is a street kid through and through. He's been one all his life. All six years, that is. All six he can remember. He met Hobie at 13, when they both were just hungry kids living on the street and squatting in flats, and when they were hungry, they'd count out pence until they had something to share.
Now, they're both heros and roomies! (Although Hobie agrees with neither)
Hobie helped Milo transition, helping him steal his T shots when they were younger
Constantly mentions once being taller than Hobie
Has no pupils. If you ask, he'll act like he doesn't know what you're talking about. (There is no known explanation for this)
At 17 him and Hobie lost contact, with Milo going into a clinical trial with the promises of money and mental help.
Instead he got his healing factor
Him and Hobie reunited through 'Hero Work' - with Gothpool meeting Spider-punk
Only for Milo to immediately go 'No fucking way!! Talk again!! Hobie?? Hobie, m8 is that you? You sound just like this bloke-'
And Hobie had to be like 'Can you...not keep saying my name out loud.'
He thinks he lives at the houseboat, keeps breaking in and eating Hobie's heinz beans
Endless supply of witty and worn t-shirts
Loves Hobie and wants to kiss him on the mouth but in a loving platonic way. Enjoys picking Hobie up
Used to be vocals for the band in 138 (he can actually sing. unlike Hobie)
Hobie gave Milo his first T shot at 14.
Him and Diane do not get along well. She says Milo freaks her out. Milo doesn't know why she's so jumpy around gunpowder and lit matches - like calm down what kinda Spider-woman are you??
Clueless about politics, though Hobie tries his best to teach him. It's hard for Milo to grasp, and really easy for him to get frustrated, but he genuinely wants to learn. So Hobie is extra patient with him.
Even so, Gothpool is a CRAZY asset to have in battle. He may not know about systemic oppression but he knows that a bat to the forehead will knock a cop out cold
Mainly self-trained but highly skilled in fire-arms. Fights every battle like he's in a street fight outside a bar and he's ready for blood
His favorite food is a cheese toasty with marinara sauce and a root beer float
Also he's allergic to cats. He says he isn't but he is.
Uhhhh yeah, that's all really. I realized I never posted Milo so I figured I get around to it lol
I LOVE HIM. I LOVE HIM IM SO NORMAL BUT ALSO I LOVE HIM AND HOBIE
#I REALLY WANTED TO GIVE HIM 2D GORILLAZ EYES YOU KNOW WHO I MEAN#I have no idea if i ship them or not but they love each other in a not platonic not romantic secret third typa way#spidersona#spidersonas#hobie brown#deadpool#spiderpunk#spider punk#wade wilson#milo mason#atsv#across the spiderverse#across the spider verse#hobie brown x oc#hobie x oc
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The Fourth | Jeremiah x Fem!Reader
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summary: its the Fourth of July and Jeremiah sees you watching the fireworks with Conrad, he's loved you for as long as he can remember, how is he going to react? is he going to see the situation different than it really is? (belly basically doesn't exist and youre in place of her)
request: yes/no (that was really fast lol)
word count: 1k
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, and that's all I can think of!
(not proofread and I wrote this late, ill fix errors later :))
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Jeremiah's pov:
it was the fourth of July night at cousins beach. we had all spent most of the day down at the beach playing drinking games and eating a bunch of food. and all I could do the whole time was watch y/n. only mom knows but I have loved her basically since I was twelve... I stayed home with her for a week while she was sick and I took care of her, and when I got sick two days later she took care of me. I've always seen her as beautiful. even way before this summer. but guess who also did. Conrad. I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up going for Conrad rather than me. I mean yeah he's older, taller, mysterious, but he would never truly care for her as much as I do. Conrad likes the idea of someone needing him and wanting him so he will take that to his advantage until he no longer needs it and then he will push them away, and im not letting that happen to y/n. I can take care of her.
y/n's pov:
I was standing down at the dock watching the fireworks out in the distance smiling to myself at how great of a day I had. I couldn't help but smile when thinking back to every time I caught Jeremiah glancing over at me. he's always been the flirtatious type but recently he's been seeming more sincere about it. that's why I think ill always pick jer. he's taken care of me since we were twelve. all the way back to when he stayed home with me when I was sick. I've loved him ever since and have always promised myself to look after him.
I noticed a figure walk up next to me.
"oh! hey Conrad" I smiled in his direction before looking back to the fireworks
"hey y/n/n" he said slightly monotone that made me look back at him
"Is everything alright?" I turned my body to face him completely and tilted my head to get a better look at him
"um, yeah yeah. I just have something ive been meaning to talk to you about."
"what's up?" I look at him slightly concerned
he looks at me for a few moments, seemingly nervous. instead of speaking he only moves closer to me, taking one of my hands in his. I shift uncomfortably, not liking where it's seeming to be going.
don't get me wrong I love Conrad. but I have and will always see him as a brother. my heart belongs to someone else.
before Conrad could get any closer, a firework flies right by the both of us causing me and Conrad to jump.
"um, I uh, I think im going to head back inside. I think im going to call it a night. goodnight Conrad." I start heading back up to the house quickly, wanting to get out of the situation.
"right, um, goodnight y/n" he clears his throat, glancing back down at the ground before turning back.
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once I got back inside I walked upstairs and headed to my bedroom, I walked in the door but stopped and walked towards jers room. I wanted to make sure to say goodnight to him before heading to sleep, and see if he had as good of a day as I did.
"knock knock, its me" I opened the door and peeped a head inside. the lights were off but her was sitting on his bed facing the opposite direction. "I wanted to see how your day was, I had a lot of fun hanging with all of you and I- jer? are you listening?" I walked over and sat next to him, moving his chin so he was looking at me.
"why him y/n" jer said with a tear stained face.
"woah woah jer why are you crying? what are you talking about?" I turned to face him fully and took one of his hands in mine.
"Conrad." he scoffed. "I seriously should've known that it would end up being him. I saw you both down at the dock together" he let another tear fall as he looked me dead in the eyes with so much hurt.
"no no no jer you're seeing this all wrong. I didn't know what was going down back there. I was just watching the fireworks and he came up to me like that. if im being honest I think he had one too many drinks tonight and didn't even know what he was doing himself." I gave him a sympathetic smile as I rubbed his hand softly
" so you didn't kiss him?" he asked as his gaze softened "and you didn't want to kiss him?"
I laughed and placed a hand on his cheek "jer. no I didn't want to kiss him and I definitely didn't. im honestly glad that definite accidental firework went off. "
"yeah uh that's my bad." he glanced down tugging a smile grin
"I thought so.." I smile softly "look, jer. you are honestly one of the sweetest, and most caring people I have ever met in my entire life. since day one. you have always been the one to look out for me and take care of me. no matter the situation you were the one the came to my rescue. I was drunk? you were the dd. I was sick? you took care of me. I was crying over something dumb? you were my shoulder to cry on. someones messing with me? you'd beat them up in a heartbeat. I can go on and on. jer. it's always always been you and I don't know have you haven't seen that. I wouldn't choose anyone else but you." before I could let him get a work out of his mouth I cupped his cheeks and pressed my lips onto his in a soft kiss. his eyes widened in shock before he melted into it, bringing his hands to hold my waist. i pulled away slowly after a few moments and smiled at him.
"will you stay with me tonight" he asked as he rubbed my sides softly
"of course jer." I smiled and laid down with him, my head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around me holding me close.
"my moms gonna flip when I tell her about this."
"nah honestly I think she sees everything coming." i look up at him. "and probably this too, we both go to her about everything." we both laughed and not long after fell asleep. gosh this is going to be the best summer yet.
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pls pls like and reblog!! 🫶🏼
#tsitp#jeremiah x reader#jeremiah fisher#conrad fisher#conrad x reader#the summer i turned pretty#gavin casalegno
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simp 101
summary: mc finally graduates and shows grayson more affection than he’s used to from them.
pairing: grayson x mc
word count: 899
based on the ask: what would graysons thoughts be if an mc who is taller than him randomly picked him up mid hug and spun around like in cheesy rom-coms?
**unedited//idk it was my first idea and i just ran with it lol**
grayson can't keep the smile off his face. his cheeks are even starting to hurt, but he wouldn't want to stop even if he could. from his seat in the audience, his eyes flit across the sea of faces before they land on the only person he ever wants to look at. mc, standing in a line leading up to the stage, dressed in their cap and gown, a smile as wide as his own on their face. simply looking at them now, his heart swells with pride. after everything they’d been through, after all the time lost, he’d never thought he’d see the day but feeling as happy as he does now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
as if sensing his eyes on them, they look over their shoulder and find him in the crowd. an already bright smile lights up even further and they wave at him excitedly. he’s just barely begun to wave in response when the person behind them taps their shoulder and draws their attention. he heaves a sigh and drops his hand back to his lap. as much as he wants all of their attention, all the time, he has enough experience to know how to cope without it.
“careful,” callie says, nudging him with their elbow and he glances at them with a raised eyebrow. “your simp is showing.”
he frowns at the teasing look in their eyes. “i don’t know what that means.”
they roll their eyes but that smile of theirs still remains. “you’re smart; you can figure it out.”
before he can even form a reply, his attention is brought back to the stage when the mc’s name is called. applause erupts as they walk up on stage but the three of them - grayson, callie and nora - all cheer the loudest. their smile turns shy as they receive their diploma from an ecstatic looking kennedy, shaking her hand as she grins at them in return.
as they begin to walk off stage, they once again search for grayson and their family in the crowd, holding their diploma up and waving it in excitement when they find them. a surge of pride and admiration washes over him as he flashes them another smile and two thumbs up. the applause starts up again when another name is announced but grayson isn’t paying attention to anyone else. he never does when they’re around.
when the ceremony has finished, the three of them stand off the side, waiting for the mc. he’s filled with a giddy anticipation, shifting impatiently on his feet. again, callie nudges him but he waves them off. finally in the sea of faces, he spots that familiar smile all but running towards him and he spreads his arms just in time for them to slam into him. before he even knows whats happening, they’ve picked him up and are spinning him around.
“i did it!” they cheer and grayson feels his heart leap in his chest, his face warm. they’ve never done this before, embrace him so affectionately, and he didn’t even know that they could. as tall as he is, mc has always been taller but it never crossed his mind that this is would ever be a possibility. now that is, however, he likes it a lot more than he thought he would.
“i never had any doubts,” he tells them and he has to swallow his protest as they set him back down on the ground. “i’m so proud of you.”
“alright,” callie groans, arms crossed over their chest. “i did not sign up for this level of pda.”
they quickly pull away from him to embrace their sibling and mother and grayson has to ignore how cold he feels without their arms around him. he plasters on a smile that for the most part is real and he shoves his hands in his pockets as he watches them.
before long, congratulations have given, photos have been taken and they slowly make their way to the parking lot. nora squeezes them to her side, refusing to let them go and grayson can’t help but notice that she looks the happiest he’s ever seen her. and if he’s being honest, he feels the same way.
reaching the car, callie spins around. “how are we going to celebrate?” they ask, looking pointedly at each of them before finally coming to a stop on their sibling.
mc looks at them each with a shy smile. “well, as soon as each of you are there; i’ll be happy,” they say, their bright eyes lingering on him. “oh; kennedy and alex too!”
“in that case, i’ve got a special bottle of champagne at home with your name on it,” nora says as she gives them another squeeze. with their evening plans arranged and callie on invite duty, nora finally manages to let mc go in order to get in the drivers seat. they suddenly turn to him, a bright smile on their face as they reach for his hand.
“thanks for being here for me,” they say and he’s quick to nod, unable to find enough words to express how he truly feels. they’re still holding onto him as they get in the backseat of the car and he follows willingly, happy enough to be in their presence.
grayson can only hope he’ll be in their arms soon again.
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In that case!
Can I request a romantic ride on the dragon thing (Ikran?) with Jake Sully? If I'm dating a Na'vi or an Avatar I wanna ride in style.
Reader could be possibly be a researcher and maybe Jake is being a little flirty or trying to show off? If you need more to work off of let me know and I'll go back to brainstorming, lol
Riding an Ikran with Jake Sully
[GN!Reader]
[Warnings: Like, none?]
[AN: Yes ofc you can. I love this stuff. I realize,,,, I am slowly making this more poly than I realized,,, and ngl I kinda like it,,, that way? for this dynamic? look I love Jake and Neytiri together I think you dating both of them would be-]
headcanons bc im weak lol
Let's pretend after the events of the movie, you're one of the few humans chosen to stay and live on Pandora because you've always been doing the right thing, and Jake wanting to fight for the planet, his friendship with the Omaticaya and strictly but strong platonic bond with Neytiri furthered you wanting to do the right thing.
So you're here now! Pandora is your home! You and the few other humans that have been chosen to stay, Norm (who's avatar is still healing from the gunshot wounds, they think he'll be good to fully link within the month), Max, you all miss Trudy-
Jake is still the dastardly man you liked when he was just some jarhead coming to Pandora for the first time. But, as the clan leader for the Omaticaya, he's got some tricks up his sleeve! And one of them is wanting to show you his ikran.
He says he'll "pick you up" when it's twilight. Sitting on the roof of a what used to be a giant base, you wait for the man you love.
And there he is. The cry of a creature known as a banshee in the language you were raised in comes gliding on the gentle breeze. Jake is there. There's a large smile on his face just seeing you.
Neytiri is gliding alongside him. She seems happy to see you too. There's a certain sadness in her eyes as she pats the neck of her ikran as the two perch on the rooftop near you. She misses Seze more and more by the moment.
Both Jake and Neytiri tap lightly at the space between their eyebrows before gently rolling their hands out towards you. They see you.
You smile and return the gesture, a slight heat rising to your cheeks how Jake grins. He says a few things to Neytiri before she nods, the words "enjoy date night" sounding foreign on her tongue as she takes to the skies again.
Jake's much taller like this. He's 10ft, strong, and his ikran is even bigger than him. You feel so small next to them, but giggle when he picks you up in his embrace anyways. Gods, how he wishes he could kiss you right now-but Pandora's air is still toxic to your lungs, and only in brief, rare situations can you actually kiss him.
you're almost certain he's looked into getting you an avatar, but those things don't grow easily and without the resources,,,,,
ANYWAYS, he picks you up and pretty much places you right behind him. His tail even curls around you. He's saying the cutest things, flirting with you even if it's awkward.
He's always been charming. Both as a human, and now as an avatar? a proper Na'vi?
He has his ikran doing a lot of daring stuff, chuckling at how you grip your arms tight around his waist. Is it scary? yeah! But would Jake let anything bad happen to you? Of course not!
All of your date nights start like this. Jake is charming as always, his ikran is close to doing loops, you can't help but laugh and let your heart flutter at how he speaks to you, and you're over the moon to know he's yours.
Jake feels like he needs to do the most just to be worthy of your time, just to call you his.
#jake sully#jake sully x reader#jake sully headcanon#james cameron avatar x reader#james cameron avatar#neytiri headcanon
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i want to say so many things abt stsg & mc in dyf au so bad omg. i feel like their characters aren’t getting across and i don’t feel like talking in fic writing language i just want to vomit everything out
and also bcs nobody talks to me in asks :(
dyf IS an alternative universe where gojo and geto get together late first year/early second year if you haven’t already noticed.
i headcanon it would be around christmas when it’s so called ‘official’
it’s just?? kind of decided unanimously one day that they get together since they get each other so well? unsaid lovers kinda thing
dyf!mc actually assumed they were already dating during the start of the first year. its definitely love at first sight when they butt heads as often as they do right? she swears that ppl with that type of relationship either end up in a grave or in bed together
i’ve said this before but stsg’s relationship is something i view as far more than friendship or just a romance. there is this… unsaid understanding between them despite their differences. i imagine them as mirror images of the other, two halves of a whole, soulmates ykwim
everyone thinks gojo is the horny one, but it’s geto x190%
when do all 3 get together? officially, not yet. third year aus are typically them teetering ON romantic relationship, but definitely holds no water yet. but there is an increase in skinship that dyf mc had settled comfortably into and thinks it’s perfectly normal.
i mean, she does that with shoko right?? what’s the diff if she does it with these 2 that she loves just as much (and may or may not have a crush on)
anyway, back to dyf mc
i don’t know if it’s super obvious to everyone yet, but dyf mc definitely has some degree of social anxiety and depression, explaining the way she pulls back and gets lost in her thoughts instead to feel safe
she understands what she feels, but it’s very very overwhelming u get?
mc is also shown to be sensitive to cursed energy if u also didn’t notice loll,,,, to the point she can pinpoint the 3. or is it just because she has trained herself to feel for their specific auras hmmm??
anyway. since stsg are ‘dating’, she does try very hard to suppress anything romantic she tends to feel, and WILL convince herself that lITERALLY anything they try on her is STRICTLY PLATONIC bcs she just can’t believe these 2 will ever like her in THAT manner yk
and shoko? shoko is single. shoko is pretty. shoko is flirting with her. but since stsg treat her LIKE THAT, she thinks this is what happens when you’re getting close to others right?
she likes it a lot. she hopes they continue to stay close to her. (LMAO DENSE ASF)
tbh i didn’t intend for shoko to be so involved with mc. i wrote it that way bcs i had an equally huge crush on her and it just integrated itself naturally into my writing LOL
also, the smut threesome fics were all practice fics lolllll. i’ve never written threesomes in my life and they were my first cracks at it
something special for getting all the way here bcs im just rambling haha. i’m trying to get ppl to interact with me i’m so sad and lonely writing all by myself
in the bully! satosugu au
gojo and mc were actually childhood friends! imagine that. growing up in the neighbourhood with that spoilt, but kind little white-haired brat but him moving away soon after
only to see him again when you’re way, way older!and that other black-haired guy that he seems to be super close with. you’re gonna be friends again, right?
and he’s never been so excited to see you! he’s so much taller now and his arms are so strong, so different from the weak chubby flab of the child him that you thought was adorable, so you’d always ask your mom for extra snacks to eat together!
but now he’s literally picking you up, your feet barely touching the ground as he holds you so so so tightly, as if afraid you’d disappear
it’s nice catching up with him, sitting with him and a close friend of his, geto suguru at lunch, following them to the convenience store after school to get a quick snack
only for him to ignore you the next week when you bound up to him smiling, greeting him with excited cheer. he quirks a brow at you, shoving you out of the way before walking away…
what… did you do wrong? what’s wrong with him?
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