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hoesformatt · 14 hours

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“YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT”

chris smut, this was an old draft but i fixed it up and here we finally have the long awaited plug fic…

dom!plug!chris • poc!reader friendly

contains: mentions of smoking and drinking, choking, heavy petting, making out, edging, orgasm denial, cowgirl, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 1.5k

not proofread

It was getting late, I was getting lonely and bored so I decided to go grab my smoke bag to find my tin. I got all giddy when I found my tin, but then my smile disappeared when I felt there was no weight to the tin.

Please tell me there’s something in here, please tell me there’s something in here, I repeated in my head but to no surprise, there was nothing but the whiff of weed and my hopes and dreams.

I contemplated on what I was going to do on my Saturday, either sit here and puff on my nicotine til I got nic sick, or call my plug aka my late night therapist, which I did not want to do.

He is my last resort call because of our history, my plug was one of the scariest people I’ve ever met and I try not to ring him too much because I do not want to see him… but I do at the same time. He is fine as fuck, I can’t deny that shit but I am petrified by him even so I’ve never given him my address and I always meet him at his place.

I decided to face my fears and shot him a text

Are u up?

What do you need mama

He replied immediately and called me that pet name that gave me instant butterflies

I ran out, I need a new pack of woods

it’s about fucking time

My heart dropped to my ass

you buy so much shit and then dip, I like seeing you

Fuck, what do I say. I was lowkey feeling how he was flirting with me. My thoughts were interrupted by another text

Let me pull up on you

Hell the fuck no.

The usual place?

Nah

Lemme pull up, it’s late and shit

It’s no problem, the usual place is good i’ll be there in 10

Being left on delivered, I was tripping out at this point. I guess I’m thugging it out tonight… sober. I grabbed my juicy peach ice, geek bar from the cushion beside taking a puff. May the pulse be with you I guess, I was thinking in my head too much, trying to remember where I put my blinker.

Hearing a car driving past my driveway, I glanced at my front door and the window beside it trying to see who is. A car door shut close and then the door soon began to jiggle and open.

I frantically ran into the kitchen but when I turned around and looked in the living room I saw my plug walking into my home, holding a plastic white bag, bee-lining for my couch “FUCK CHRIS, What the fuck are you doing here, how the fuck do you know where I live?!” This is exactly why I’m terrified of him.

My heart felt like it was beating 1000 beats per second right now, and it was not going down. It’s like he was a serial killer out for my blood. Apart from the fact that Chris walked into my house as if he owned it, I’m half naked wearing the smallest Ethika set ever.

My eyes almost instantly scaled to crotch, clothed behind his grey sweatpants. “I followed you home before” Chris had two paper bags, pulling out a dark liquor and a bottle of tequila. I was trying to still catch my breath, attempting to register everything at once. “Last time you needed shit it was around this time, a rando was watching you, so I followed him to your house,” Chris said it so casually, popping open the Hennessy “You have shot glasses? and chasers?” He looked up at me for a response.

Finally, I calmed myself down after he told me someone was following me and I just pulled out the glasses and sodas from my fridge “Get yourself one too” He suggested.

He then got up taking the can of Pepsi and the glass from my hands to my living room table. I slowly followed after him, finding my place, far away from him. “C’mere baby, don’t be shy” Chris gestured for me to sit beside him and I didn’t move an inch.

Chris grabbed his waistline pulling out a gun from there, tossing it casually across the other side of him then looked back at me. “Now what?” He arose from his seat to come and sit next to me, sliding a shot to me. “It’s too late for me to drink” I came up with a petty excuse. Chris scoffed, downing both of the shots without making a face, straight Hennessy.

“Ok.” He raised himself out of the position he was in taking the white bag beside him opening it pulling out packs of woods. “How much are you gonna buy then, since you want me gone.” I snatched two packs the Loose Leaf, Watermelon Dream from the pile, almost salivating about the thought of the high I was going to get. “Let me get my wallet” I got up but Chris’ legs were in my way “‘Xcuse” When I walked past him my ass brushed his face which Chris touched.

I gazed down at him, completely infatuated by my juicy ass, unable to keep his hands to himself. I brushed it off since I was too happy to care. I collected my wallet pulling out my cash, I handed it to him, still standing up “I don’t want your money” He said flinging the money in my direction. Chris’ glacial blue eyes fucked me, and he found it hard to control himself. I noticed his cock grew hard in his sweatpants, and he bucked his hips upwards, enticing me. “You know what I want.”

Finally I gave in, straddling his lap and his hands immediately pulled me down to press upon his hardness. I waved my hips, making him moan as I took control.

Chris grasped my neck with aggression while stripping me of my tube top, lowering it. He latched his lips to my nipples, moving his hands down to my hips and helping me wave them. “Take your shorts off.”

Raising me, I removed my shorts in anticipation as he set free his large length that slapped against his stomach. He whipped out a condom from one of his pockets sliding it onto his length. When I got back on his lap, he had licked his two fingers, dipping them into me then back out to lick his fingers. “You must love me with the way you’re so wet for me” Chris smirked, aligning himself to my pulsing cunt. He pushed my hips down to settle onto his cock, I threw my head back to the feeling of him stretching me out.

With no patience Chris began to thrust upwards with a tight grip on my waist, making my tits jump. I cupped my hands over my mouth because I couldn’t show him how good he was making me feel, reaching points I didn’t know were there. Chris smacked my hand "Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you” The sounds of his raspy voice and the wet noises faded together, I felt our wetness puddle under me. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel” Chris whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t believe that he was making me cum so quickly and he knew it, so he took his thumb and massaged my clit relentlessly trying to get the words out of me. “Tell me.” I shook my head no but my body was beginning to grow tired. Then he stopped. He stopped thrusting into me and I whined, “If I don’t make you fell good you should do it yourself right?” Chris didn’t care at all and I needed my release badly.

I took both of his wrist, putting them behind his head to ride my high. My erotic movements made Chris twitch inside me as he hit wall to wall.

It was so addicting that I wanted to feel him raw inside me and when I pulled his cock out of me, the condom was coated his sticky liquids. I yanked the rubber off his length and it slowly rolled up until it was off and I threw it elsewhere, jumping back on his dick.

Chris succumbed to my wetness, whimpering loudly as I wrapped around him. I bounced on his cock, hoping that my legs wouldn’t give up on me but Chris suddenly decided to take control again and ram into me. “I need to cum, I need to cum, please, please” I begged Chris to let me cum, reaching my climax. “Yes Chris, yes, yes—” Just as I was about to cum, Chris pulled out again and this time he threw me back on the couch.

“Please Chris, why— ” He had put back on his pants, packing up the rest of his shit.

“I don’t fuck ungrateful whores” He said casually, gripping my hair and kissing my cheek.

tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @zayyluvz @i8kth @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @livvy4realll @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi

#hoesformatt #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #fan fiction #fan fic

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 21 hours

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Mess in Chat >w^

This is an entry for the Sweet Shroud Summer 2024 event held by the lovely @cloudcountry

Content; Gender-neutral reader, fluff, some swearing here and there

Word Count; 1.8 K

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Summer was back in full force. Even from within the cold walls and highly air-conditioned hallways of S.T.Y.X. Idia was overheating. He didn’t even have Ortho, since he was powered down to prevent his system from overheating — they both learned that lesson last summer and neither of them were happy not to have the other for three days while Idia was trying to fix him up. So, he was busy typing away at his computer, switching between his actual tasks and the multitude of open tabs that he had open.

Finishing up on reading one of what seemed to be a never-ending pile of reports, Idia took a look at his messages, Mess in Chat >w^ — getting a small smile from the little winky face — and saw that there was a new message … from an hour ago.

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess I’m melting I’ve melted I’m a pool of goop on the floor

Idia tapped his fingers on his keyboard, trying to think of something to say. While he wouldn’t say the two of you were overly friendly, you also weren’t acquaintances. Idia knows that you’re trying to be his friend — dear Sevens, Ortho was so happy when he saw Idia smile at his phone when you messaged him — but it’s hard with being online.

Would he actually ask to meet in real life? Oh Sevens no! You, the self proclaimed ‘mess’ (Idia wouldn’t even say that you were a mess, just well-meaning and a bit awkward at times) low keyed scared him. Well not actually scare him, but he didn’t want to get too close only for the friendship to blow up in his face.

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess AHA! I CAN SEE THAT YOU’RE ONLINE!

Idia sighed, the jig was up.

Gloomurai I thought you melted into goop Goop can’t type

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess I’ve regained my non-goop form to bug you I’M BOREDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Gloomurai … F

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess DON’T PUT AN F IN THE CHAT WHAT THE HELL … eugh… dying of heatstroke Tell my cat that I love him…. X-X

Idia coughed out a small laugh. He doubted you were as melodramatic IRL as you were online, but it made the monotony of his day — especially now that he didn’t even have the excuse of classes to break it up — a bit better.

Gloomurai You shall be missed CAT CAT PIC PLEASE CAT PIC IN THESE TRYING TIMES

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess … my phone doesn’t have a camera … And he’s on top of the fridge complaining about the heat

Idia sighed, remembering that besides having a laptop for classes, that was the best tech that you had. He remembers you complaining about your lack of funds and your employer. How you managed to balance your job and schooling at the same time baffled and, as you two got closer, worried him.

Gloomurai You really need a better phone

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess I’M A BROKE STUDENT I’M TRYING MY BEST I EVEN HAVE A SECOND JOB

Gloomurai So you’re not only dying of heatstroke but also overworking yourself? F … what’s your second job?

‘WHAT AM I THINKING?! I DON’T KNOW THEM LIKE THAT-’

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess … swan boats …

Gloomurai … swan boats?

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess Swan boats. Even have a silly uniform and everything The pay is decent though, and I only work weekends UNLIKE MY OTHER JOB-

“We’re going to see them, right?” Ortho asked, making Idia jump.

“OrThO-” Idia squeaked, switching tabs at the speed of light, and clearing his throat. “... no”

Ortho looked at Idia, who was smiling a minute ago and was now back to being jumpy. “But-” he paused, looking between the screen and his brother. He knew who Friendly Neighbourhood Mess was — hard not to when you can see the entirety of Night Raven’s search history — but he also knew his brother. “Just know that they enjoy having you as a friend.”

Idia looked back to his screen, knowing you were going on a tirade about your first boss. “They enjoy having Gloomurai as a friend,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Besides,” he looked back at Ortho,”it would be weird for me to just show up.”

“Not if they invite you.~” Ortho chirped, going back to his room since he could feel his systems starting to overheat again. “They’re your friend online… so why not in person too?”

Idia opened up your tab again, and sure enough, you were on a full blown tirade.

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess I SHOULD REPORT HIS ASS BUT THEN I WON’T HAVE A PLACE TO LIVE- OH WHEN I GRADUATE HIS ASS IS GRASS I TELL YOU-

Gloomurai I’ll bring you one of those lawnmowers you drive

Friendly Neighbour Mess *sniffles* You’re a true friend

Gloomurai So, about your other job…

‘Come on, think of a believable excuse so you don’t look like a loser. THINK! COME ON BRAIN! BE SMART!’

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess Wait Idea

Idia felt his hair warming, but patted it. ‘Get a hold of yourself, it’s just the word idea for Sevens sake!’

I take you for a spin on one of those death traps

Gloomurai I- DEATH TRAPS? NEVERMIND

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess Too late >w^ See you Saturday!

Idia stared at his screen for a bit, processing everything. You had invited him to your work. He was going to meet you IRL. He was going to get in a swan boat, like the one you see in cheesy otome cutscenes and animes, and they were, apparently, death traps.

… why was he excited about it then?

…

You were at work, giving your best customer service smile and voice to the kids, families, and couples that came up through the line. “Remember folks to keep on your life jackets at all times, and to keep your arms and legs inside the boat at all times! Enjoy your ride!~”

While yes, you did have to wear an all-white uniform complete with a baseball cap with swan wings, it wasn’t half bad.

The lunch room was always packed with good food, cold drinks, and the comfiest couch you have ever had the pleasure of plopping down into. Sure, it was a bit embarrassing — Ace had nearly laughed his ass off when he saw you in your get up and the fakely sweet smile you gave him — but it was only for this summer, and only for the weekends. Besides, it was cushy and most importantly, not putting your life into peril every five to seven business days when compared to the job that Crowley had given you.

You were already getting into your little monologue that you’re used to saying to customers when you faltered. “Enjoy your- Idia?” You blinked, surprised to see him. You barely got to see him at school, so seeing him here of all places was a shock to put it lightly.

Idia was fidgeting with the zipper of his life jacket and jumped when you said his name. ‘Y/N? The Ramshackle prefect-’ “... hi?”

“Hi,” you say back. “Umm, sorry, but there has to be two people to a boat,” you say sheepishly.

Idia jumps a bit and accidentally zips some of his hair in the zipper. “I was waiting for a friend…” he mutters, “they, uh, work here?”

You pause and your eyes widen. “YOU!”

“Me?!” Idia blinked rapidly. “Wait, you?!” Idia put the pieces together.

The lamenting about your first job. The complaints about your cat stealing your food. The silly uniform for your second job — which is silly, but you make it work. And the way you spoke online matched how you spoke with your IRL friends.

“You’re Friendly Neighbourhood Mess-”

“You’re Gloomurai!”

You both say it at the same time. You offer him a bright smile before saying something quietly into your walkie-talkie and putting on a bright yellow life jacket.

“Well,” you chuckle, “good thing you have a friend that’s willing to get on one of these death traps with you then!”

Idia let you take the lead before stumbling into the boat. “You probably shouldn’t call these ‘death traps’ since you work here,” he offered lightly.

You helped stabilize him since he was struggling to stand due to the light waves. “Well, they are, my land-loving friend.”

Idia sat down quickly, trying not to get flustered by the skin contact but failing. “Then I p-probably shouldn’t be on here, should I?”

“Nope,” you popped the p at the end and started moving the boat with the hand pedals. “But it takes two people to move these things.”

Idia started pedalling with you, and despite his fears of you wanting to make idle small talk, you didn’t. Instead, you pointed out some favourite spots and allowed him to contribute to the conversation at his own pace. Even though it idled here and there, it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable.

When you sailed (can it even be called sailing when it’s a swan boat?) under the canopy of a weeping willow, you spoke again. “So, why did you agree to meet me? Let alone in one of these?”

Idia looked at you again, the dappled lighting blocking out the heat of the sun, yet he felt warmer now than before. “I don’t know, just,” he breathed in, centring himself, “I guess I wanted to spend time with a friend.” He smiled then, it was a small thing, but it was genuine. “Also,” he coughed, “you lied about the death trap part about this whole thing.”

You laughed, shaking the boat a little. “Oh it is, if not physically, then, reputation-wise. Death to social life via swan boat.”

Idia snorted. ‘Well, good thing that I don’t … didn’t have one then.’ “Good thing there’s someone who knows what they’re doing then… you do know what you’re doing, right?”

You shrugged, “I have a certificate if that eases your mind a bit.”

And the two of you continued paddling away, chatting here and there before heading back to the dock where a few of your coworkers gave the both of you thumbs-ups and winks. Idia felt himself go warm, whereas you rolled your eyes at them before helping Idia out.

“If you don’t mind, want to do this again?” You asked, undoing your lifejacket, looking expectantly towards him.

Idia fumbled with his own before you helped him out. “... that would be fun,” he smiled.

You smiled back, patted him on the shoulder as he walked away, and went back to greeting customers again.

Idia was happy about how today went, even though he would wake up a lovely shade of lobster red tomorrow and a very curious Ortho, but for the first time in a while, he was looking forward to summer vacation, and having some of it be outside of his computer screen. And, most importantly, have a friend that he didn’t feel like he had to be someone else with.

~~~~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @bloomstruck, @edith-is-a-cat, @eynnwwyjth, @inkybloom-luv, @ithseem, @lucid-stories, @syrenkitsune, @the-v-lociraptor, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

#sweet shroud summer 2024 #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud x gn reader #I'M NOT DEAD FOLKS JUST HAD SOME BURNOUT BUT I'M BACK #auburn!#<- hi aubergine :3 #idk how active i'll be but hopefully i can get back into writing again

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villainofmyownstory · 3 days

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Blurry

masterlist

pairing: exhusband!Captain John Price x fem!Reader

summary: You visit your ex-husband, in your once shared home. The memories are painful. But only for you. Unfortunately, after that one bloody mission, John doesn't remember you. The memory of your life together, blurred in his mind.

tags: afab reader, hurt, ex lovers, ex-husband, recollection of death, loss of memory , ambiguous/open ending

1.6 k words

author's note: Once I wrote some random thoughts about our gorgeous captain. Today I've put it all together. Comments welcome, let me know if it's worth writing another part, because I don't know what to think. I guess I like sad stories…. and can't get the ex-husband plot out of my mind. Sorry not sorry <3

——————————————————————————————————

The clock ticked quietly somewhere in the distance, deep in the corridor, steadily, rhythmically. The water in the kitchen tap dripped, quietly reminding you that you need to change the gasket but also to fix some other things in the flat. Even though you moved here a few months ago, you still don't feel at home. You feel uncomfortable. Like a guest in a hotel. All the objects seemed foreign, belonging to someone else. Or maybe nobody's. Everything has been renovated, painted, bought and new. Just for you.

Cat curled up in a ball, lies next to you on a small red sofa. And in front of you on a small, vintage coffee table steams warm coffee. Another one that day. The only meal for many weeks. You rub your eyes, even though no more tears have appeared in them for days. It still burns you and you feel this tingling under your eyelids. Something like fine sand, irritating your eyeballs and hurting the soft delicate flesh of your eyelids. You try to take it in stride. On days like these, weekends, holidays, when you are left alone in a small flat. You fall apart into millions of pieces. Alone. The pain under your ribs, the pressure in your sternum, your throat squeezed like in a vice. Memories haunt you at every step. A constant battle with the past, something you beg for every sleepless night to finally go away. To be finally erased. You should burn the photos, throw away the gifts. Bury the past at last. To move on. After all, this is what you wanted. A lot of time fighting, trying. Days of sweat shed, of anger, of trying again and again. And in the end, powerlessness.

Sunk in your thoughts, you stare, with heavy eyelids, at the empty space under the TV. Once, in another warm home, the shelf was filled with DVDs of one's favourite films. Classic.

A familiar sound interrupts your gloomy rush of thoughts. Looking at the phone screen, you smile slightly. Your boys have been calling every day. ‘Hi Johnny’ You say with a grunt, trying to chase away the sad thoughts, not letting him know that you are tormenting yourself with the past again.

You should not agree. The paperwork you signed, and the arrangements in the documents, were approved, many months ago. That was not the deal. This is not how you discussed the contract. This is not why you are sitting here now. Yet, you can't say no to them. Not after all they've given up their lives, made sacrifices and…

Sitting in an old rusty cheap car. In your familiar driveway, in this new, friendly neighbourhood. You hesitate to get out. Your hands are sweaty, in a firm grip on the worn-out steering wheel. So you give yourself a few minutes to calm down. You never wanted to show them, him, that you were continuing to suffer badly. That you haven't really moved on.

You have to be tough.

As the door finally slams shut behind you with a quiet click, the same scent reaches your nostrils once again. Earthy and heavy from the cigars and the cherry wood burning in the fireplace, a slightly sweet smoke with a subtle fruity aftertaste, with a slight bitter note. A scent so familiar, so close. But it's not your scent. The resignation has been signed. The decision had been made. There was no going back. Johnny stands in front of you looking at you apologetically. ‘Sure I understand. Duty calls.’ You say gently squeezing his shoulder in a gesture of understanding. Or maybe you want to convince yourself that you're not angry. There's no problem. Some kind of confirmation that it's not their fault you have to be here again. That you are standing in this big modern house, from a dream project . In the place that was supposed to be your home.

Of course boys hired 24/7 nursing. But also they themselves, his squad soldiers, alternated days and nights here. They practically lived here. So if the medical caretaker went for a few days' holiday and the three men had to go on a sudden urgent mission for a few days. It was your job to be here and help. You couldn't let them down. You could not say no. You could not answer the phone. Pretend it doesn't concern you. You had to be here. You had to be strong. For him.

When you are finally left alone in the hallway and the big car disappears around the corner. You feel that hole in your heart, opening up again. Those missing pieces to fill it. They are just behind a thin, wall. A couple of steps. A few seconds.

When you finally stand in the large room, as usual, dark curtains hang from the ceiling to the floor, covering the terraced windows. The semi-darkness of the room has always accompanied him when he watches movies. You stare at his profile illuminated by artificial television light. Despite the years spent in the army, the many litres of blood shed, the many scars on his body. He continued to watch the same films. War movies, classics. The screams and gunshots accompanied him since he opened his eyes and when he closed them. It was already burned into his mind. Written into his gut. It's just a shame that this one fucking wound, made him forget. He forgot about you. ‘Hi.’ You say uncertainly standing in the corner of the couch. You can't look at him.

You don't want to see the ocean blue of his irises, the wrinkles around his eyes. The slightly grey hair. The little freckle on his nose. The fidgety trimmed beard - which his boys were now taking care of. ‘Oh, mornin’ ‘ His voice seems even deeper to you, slightly hoarse. Perhaps already stranger. ‘How are you feeling today. Captain?’ You spit out the last word like a poisonous snake. You want to say something completely different. To shout what you said to him every night. Every morning intertwined when you were here, together. Alone. ‘You don't have to be so official, ma'am. I'm out of the army.’ John is gallant as ever. It's the same every damn time. Ma'am, lady. Miss. He's never said your name since that day. Forgotten. That hole in your heart, never to be filled by his pieces again.

The conversation goes on as usual, John again thinking you are just another medical assistant employed by his former teammates. Brothers in arms. Brothers in war. Brothers in the last of the battles. You want to shout to him how much you hate him, how much you despise him. How much it aches you. How much it hurts you that he doesn't remember anything. A bloody mission. Yet, as usual, you sit and listen once again to the same questions, the stories. As if you've turned on that worst episode of your favourite show again. The last one.

Every time he leaves. During every time he was away. On every such occasion. You were ready for the funeral. The black dress continued to hang in that wardrobe, a few rooms away.

Perhaps it would have been better if it had simply been buried six feet underground. In an oak dark box. Cold and with an equally empty head about you. Maybe it would be easier for you that way. You've already said goodbye to one light casket with his last name on it. Because that hole in your heart was much bigger than the missing fragments of your husband, ex-husband.

For a longer monologue, more memories, of his past work. Of his previous life. What you counted as ‘before’. Because what was ‘after’ was a blur. No matter. John stares at you, finally taking his eyes off the TV. The end credits move lazily across the large TV screen. You smile slightly when your gazes finally meet. He is handsome still. Maybe even more beautiful than you remembered him. It would seem that the man's calm face does not hide his wounded, hollow mind.

Physically he looks maybe even better than during his time in the army. In fact, better than at the time of your marriage. Unwittingly the corners of your mouth gently lift up. Doubtless Simon has been training with him, the hard workouts and the proper diet prepared by the new Captain are yielding great results. A well-deserved successor. A plain red t-shirt lightly framed John's broad, muscular shoulders. Grey casual sweatpants once too loose were now gently stretched around his massive thighs.

You don't have the strength to explain to him once again who you are. So when he once again addresses you as a total stranger you don't react. You wanted so badly to climb on his thighs, to punch him in the chest, maybe even scratch him. To make him feel some kind of pain at least for a moment, that thing you feel non-stop, something to bring you two together again. Feel his heart beat faster, and enter his mind, scratch out every shadowy particle. To brighten and put your memories there. Ours.

Nothing in this house resembles that life anymore. There are no pictures here. There are no flowers. There is no more laughter and joyful banter. No more singing and quiet murmurs of delight. The three of you are gone.

Finally, as you lower your gaze to his hands, which hesitantly stroke the fabric of the armchair. The image is blurred. Finally, tears well up in your eyes. You can no longer see a trace of the ring. No lighter stripe stands out on the slightly tanned skin. There is no faint hollow in the fleshy part of his worked-up ring finger. Although everything is a blur. The gold glistens gently reflecting the soft light of the television. The object that was such an important symbol. A vow. A promise. As if playfully winking at you.

#captain john price #captain price #call of duty #captain john price x reader #john price #cod x reader #exhusband!johnprice #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #john price cod #john price x reader #john price x you

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i-yap · 11 hours

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Hi there! LOVE your thoughts on Jason like truly i <3 clingy Jason!!!!! What do you think a relationship would be like between Jason and a corporate baddie? Like she's serious, career-driven, and almost viciously ambitious, but for him? a total softie!! Like they just melt for each other despite the fact that they both put up a tough exterior to others!!

Omg i love that , here are my headcanons -

Jason todd x corporate baddie!y/n

I think the time schedules would be a mess. She works 9-5 and he 'works' 9pm-5am. But since she is a really career driven woman, I can see her sort of completing her extra or personal work/ international calls etc from the time that jason is vigilanting and therefore cutting her shift from like 9-3 or something similar. Since she gets all her work done, no one can say a word and honestly no one would dare to either way. Relstionship is about compromise and I think jason will cut down his vigilante time to get home to his stressed worker bee.

Jason prolly cant sleep without her so while she is at her job, he is working out or doing his other stuff. They catch up on sleep after her shift . This means afternoon cuddles !!( Ofc I am firm believer that jason should with time leave crime fighting and become an English professor )

I also love how most of her coworkers thinks she is prolly dating a Submissive type of guy or like a really serious professional dude cause she is so scary and strict . But then Jason- 6 feet something, huge asf, leather jacket, tattoos(maybe) and motorcycle dude walks in bringing her lunchbox( that looks so tiny in his hand). Yea now they're even more scared.

And I think everyone from jason's side also assumed that he'd either get a super cute-sy girl that will "fix him" or another vigilante girl that'll " make him worse". But he walks in with this poised, smart hardworking no nonsense woman and everyone's like DAMN

Damian loves you probably. He doesn't get how todd wooed you, like he thinks todd is a doofus. For once you are a normal (non crime fighting) girl that his brother is dating who is this career driven and also treats his brother properly. He loves talking business with you ( there was this scene where he figures out who is stealing money by looking at the finances at wayne enterprises) . and for once someone doesn't take him for a kid and actually wants to listen to pointers that he has. Tim prolly also loves talking to you about business cause he is a CEO too same thing for bruce.

Power couple fr.

but once you too get home...yea no one recognizes you.

Jason loves the fact that you show your soft side only to him. He has never been someones first choice in anything and this makes him feel so much more loved and cherished. and vice versa applies to you

he loves taking care of you after your long ass workday, helping you just be vulnerable and drop the whole tough act and be human. you do the same for him once he comes back at night. Just taking care of each other the way you guys need.

And you can bet jason knows how to be your biggest supporter. big raise? promotion? or just a good presentation?? He is genuinely excited for you.

Will give you back rubs when you've been sitting on the desk the whole day

will cook you brunch/snacks for when you come back and you will cook him breakfast/dinner for when he does .

it will take some compromise and adjustments but its all worth it and no price at all for loveeee.

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quinnysnursery · 3 days

Note

Do you remember the podcast episode where Chris and Nick were mean to Matt ( calling him miserable etc.), and could you write something fluffy abt the reader comforting Matt after they filmed that episode?

[🩹] bottled up | matt sturniolo one-shot

paring : little!matt sturniolo x cg!gn!reader

summary : sometimes matt's brothers are just too mean...and sometimes a bottle fixes everything

warning/extra tid-bits : nick and chris being meanies (happy ending though!), crying, use of y/n, i think that should be it!

word count : 1,037

divider credit : @v6que

a/n : this podcast episode stressed me out so bad (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl !)

Matt left the room as soon as he could, ignoring his brother’s taunts about how he was “Miserable” and “Negative”.

He could already feel the tears slipping out from his baby blue eyes as he ran upstairs and into his room, slamming his door shut behind him and twisting the lock with a satisfying “click!”

You sat on his bed, watching the whole scene unfold. Carefully putting your cheesy rom com book on his nightstand, you cleared your throat causing Matt’s eyes widened in surprise, he’s forgotten you were here but once he remembered he thanked god.

“M-Mama/D-Dada/B-Baba!” Matt cried, holding his arms out for a hug. Your sweet boy didn’t have to ask twice because you instantly pulled him into a hug, sitting the two of you down on his bed. Matt managed to shimmy his way onto your lap as you held him in a cradling position.

“Shhh, I’m here darling. I’m here.” You comforted him, placing gently kisses atop his head. Matt continued crying for what felt like an hour, mumbling out stuff about how Chris was a “meanie” and Nick was too.

“Were they being mean to my sweet boy?” You asked sympathetically. He nodded against your now tear-stained shirt.

“I’m sorry sweetheart…Do you want me to go talk to them?” You offered, you weren’t even sure what you would say but you already had some choice words in mind. Luckily for Chris and Nick, Matt shook his head which was now resting right above your heart. Your heartbeat had always seemed to be soothing to the little.

“Okay angel, well what do you need from Mama/Dada/Baba right now?” You asked, curling the back of his hair around your fingertips.

Thinking for a moment, Matt’s hands anxiously picked at the skin near his nails. You quietly took one of his hands, squeezing some of the pressure points in it in an attempt to alleviate some of his anxiety.

“M’ want…” Matt trailed off into a mumble, a shy blush invading his face. You smiled, looking down at the little on your lap. “Hm? What is it?” You pried, “M’ wanna bottle…” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

You beamed, always delighted to give your boy a bottle, before nodding. “Okay sweetheart, can you wait here while Mama/Dada/Baba brings the bottle up?” You asked, he thought for a moment before nodding.

After some gentle coaxing and multiple pinky promises you would return, you found yourself in the kitchen. You’d managed to avoid both Nick and Chris, unscrewing Matt’s bottle and filling it with milk and a few splashes of vanilla extract.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were here!” Chris’ voice came from behind you. You internally sighed, turning around. “Yeah, Matt said we’d hang out after the podcast…” You mumbled. “Do you two wanna watch a movie? Me and Nick were gonna watch-” You cut the youngest triplet off, “No, Matt’s not feeling well.” You said firmly. Chris rolled his eyes, “He is still Miserable Matt?” He joked, only you didn’t laugh.

“Can you stop calling him that?” You asked, your tone sharper than intended. Chris paused. “I mean- seriously. I get that you three are brothers and you're gonna mess around but like- just lay off dude.” You continued, “I…” The youngest trailed off, his eyes meeting the bottle behind you.

Both Chris and Nick knew of their brother's regression, you hadn’t always been his caregiver and with Matt’s specific age range, he needed someone to at least make sure he didn’t hurt himself.

Realizing his actions had caused his older brother to regress, Chris’ face instantly fell.

“I’m- I’m sorry Y/N I thought-”

You shook your head, turning around and screwing the cap back onto Matt’s bottle. “Apologize to Matt, not me.” You said, beginning to walk back to Matt’s room, Chris following you.

“Well not right now!” You scolded, Chris stopped and nodded. “I uh- yeah okay.” He said before sheepishly moving back to the living room where Nick was sitting on the couch.

After sliding back into the room, you were greeted by Matt who was now in comfier clothes.

“Guess what I’ve got!” You sang, gently shaking the bottle in the air. Matt giggled, his puffy eyes beginning to return to normal.

You sat yourself against the headrest, Matt wasting no time crawling into your lap and laying his head on your chest. You cooed, whispering gentle affirmations to him about how he was a “sweet boy”, specifically your sweet boy.

Bringing the bottle to his lips, Matt hummed as the milk entered his mouth. Your little snuggled further into you, anxiety melting away by the second.

You proceeded to talk about anything and everything you could think of, from the most recent episode of Bluey the two of you had watched…to the weather in your hometown.

Matt listened contentedly, eyes transfixed on you as he drank his milk.

Just as the milk in his bottle ran dry, Matt’s eyes began to grow heavy. “Oh sweetheart…is someone tired?” You cooed, voice dripping in a softness a cloud could only dream of achieving.

“Mhm..” Matt mumbled as you began playing with his hair. “Poor thing, such a sleepy baby~” You smiled, placing a gentle kiss on Matt’s nose.

Giggling, he began allowing sleep to take over his mind.

It’d been nearly 30 minutes since Matt fell asleep, and you decided to hold him in your lap for as long as your limbs would allow. Just as you were going to move him, you heard the bedroom door creak open.

Turning your gaze to the now open door, you were greeted by Nick and Chris’ faces peeking in. You raised your brow.

“He okay?” Nick asked shyly, you smiled at the oldest brother’s concern. “Yeah, out like a light though.” You let out a breathy laugh, the two brothers doing the same.

The two brothers helped move Matt off of you, tucking him in.

Nick told you he already planned on apologizing to his middle brother first thing in the morning before leaving you and Chris on your own.

“Movie offer still stands,” Chris whispered, just before he slipped out the door.

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wonton4rang · 1 day

Note

SOO, in this period I have developed a huge obsession for Sungho from bnd, seeing those broad shoulders every single day makes me think about how much his physique is suitable for that of a swimmer. Sooooo, could you write something about pool sex with sungho? Thanks in advance if you do, love ya🫶🏻

oh my god you're soooo me (and i love u too<3) 😭😭😭 lately leehan and sungho have been making me go crazyyyy. they are so hot and for wHAT.

this is long, i think the longest post I've made so far but i just got carried away, sungho is such a writeable person, specially when we include his shoulders/ back and pool sex??? i hope y'all enjoy !! If you see any typos, no, you didn't 🙏

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

summer was the worst season for you, it was hot, sticky and it forced you to wash your hair EVERY SINGLE DAY, and honestly that's a hustle. so you simply hated when summer came, yeah, that until you noticed that you could have a win win by going to swim class, you wouldn't be hot (due to the weather tho), you will learn how to swim and you will also get to see the hottest boy in town: park sungho.

you just couldn't wrap your mind on how he looked so good, perfect skin, beautiful foxy eyes, a tender smile and an amazing and lovely, kind, cute personality. he was basically perfect. but the day you saw him swimming??? that was the day you felt you were doing it all wrong, how come you had such a hot man close by and never noticed? he has those broad and toned shoulders, his muscles tensing when he swam through the pool and then had to flex his arms to pull himself out of it in the edge.

you felt how your throat went dry and your hands started to shake when he walked your way.

"you must be y/n?" he asked softly, removing his swimming hat and launching his perfect hair, because yes, he also had perfect hair.

"yes, i am here for the classes?" sungho just nodded, getting to your side before looking up and down at you and lifting an eyebrow.

"you can change in there" he signalled a door behind you "today is just gonna be us since the other two said they couldn't make it"

you just nodded in comprehension, walking to the place he told you about and changing into your swimming suit, noticing how you forgot about your swimming hat, you suddenly felt so nervous and you couldn't telk why. well, i can tell you why, your pussy was literally wetter than the pool out there, it took sungho 2 minutes to make you want him so bad you'll beg for it.

once you went out, you couldn't even think about swimming, you were NOT listening to a single word he said, your eyes were fixed in his lips yet you did not understand a word, but when you felt his hands in your waist, his face so close to yours when you lifted your head, you just couldn't hold it back and shamelessly licked your lips, getting a tilted head from him before he kinda laughed at your action and made you put your feet in the bottom of the pool.

"is there something you wanna tell me, y/n? you are definitely not paying attention. maybe something you want to know so we can continue?"

"are you dating someone?" he definitely expected that.

"no, i am-"

"i need you, please" he gapped his mouth a few times before actually freezing in front of you, his hands on your hips and his eyes scanning your face for almost a minute before he said:

"like, here and now?" you nodded to his words and he just thought about it for a second before nodding too and trying to get out of the pool, you held his hand and stopped him.

"i want to do it here" but sungho was just as compliant as he seemed to be so he just said yes and finally took you in for a kiss. don't get him wrong, it's not that he's an 'easy' person but when he was so stressed with the upcoming competition and in top of that had to give classes because his dad asked him to do so (the local pool was theirs) he just needed a way to escape that, and you looked just like the perfect match for his preferences.

so it was perfect for him when you came forward first because tbh he didn't know how to approach you without making you feel uncomfortable if you didn't feel the same as he did. and this was actually such a new experience for him, fucking with someone on a random day, place and without having any ties to that person previously to doing it? that's straight up crazy for him.

but here he was, kissing you like his life depends on it, he was needy, he was seeking for this and now that he had it he just took it. his tongue ghosted your lips and his body pressed against yours with some strength that made you open your eyes when your back hit the edge of the pool, your hands went automatically to his shoulders, pressing down in the flesh, feeling it under your fingertips and moaning softly at the feeling and the warm yet chilly temperature of his skin.

he left your lips for a moment, going for your neck with hot and open mouthed kisses that gave you this weird feeling of emptiness and made you so needy for him when his arms went to each side of your head, pressing agaisnt the edge of the pool and his lips going down to your collarbones when your hands held him for below his arms, positioning in his wide back and making him get closer and closer to you to the point that he groaned himself, making you feel the vibrations in your skin before one of your hands took the hair in his nape and pulled him back a little.

his lips looked swollen and his eyes kinda watery when he faced you and took one of his hands to cup your face and kiss you softly "i need you, please" he nodded at your words, kissing you one more time cause he personally just loved the whole kissing stuff like a mad man.

"do you have any condoms?" he asked you really close to your lips, not really wanting to leave them.

"i... i actually do" you mouthered and he tried to get away from you so he could look for them, it's not that you always had condoms in your bag, even though you should just in case, but you really knew what you came here for so... but even before he got 5 inches away from you your hands were already pulling him back "do you mind doing it without it? i'm good" you explained, so he could know that there were no diseases in your system.

"i don't mind but are you sure? the water can cause some friction and i wouldn't want you to-" he took his bottom lip between his teeth and then proceeded "you know, i want you to enjoy it too"

"it's okay, i just want to feel you" he laughed at what you said because you could feel him with a condom too but he won't discuss that now that he felt his boner pushing his swimming pants and urging for a release. he nodded and took you in for a kiss again, his hand lowering in your body until he reached your pussy, palming a little and causing a spasm to run through your body, taking the chance to finally introduce his tongue in your mouth and kiss you deeper.

he didn't loose any time when his fingers made your swimsuit aside and he entered his middle finger in your cunt, your hands pressing in his back and your legs opened up for him to position himself in between them, his lips finally parted ways with yours, his forehead pressing against yours while he slowly humped you with his finger inside of you and his hips right behind. "i wish i could eat you out so bad right now" he whispered, audibly moaning like a little bitch when you gave him a short kiss in the lips and held the back of his head to play with his hair.

his eyes staring into yours with so much hunger that you just couldn't make it longer, you needed him to fuck you so bad, his frame covering yours and making your legs feel weak before saying "please, get in, sungho" and he did not thought about it twice, lowering his pants with one hand and keeping your swimsuit away with the other when he pressed the tip in your cunt, it felt so warm in comparison to the cold water surrounding you.

you felt him pushing pass your entrance and your arms wrapped around his shoulders for support, one of his hands going to hold your waist when he finally looked back up at your eyes, managing to unglue them from what he could see through the water of your pussy taking his dick.

"all good?" he asked as he slowly went deeper and deeper in your cunt, you felt the stretch and just when you thought it was all in, he kept pushing, causing you to groan out in desperation. you needed him to thrust into you and finally relieve your clenching pussy.

"all good, you can move" he nodded and finally slammed his hips against yours, the movement being rather slow due to the water but it felt so good that your pussy pulsated when he came forward one more time, this time stronger and groaning in your ear when he tried to muffle his moans by kissing the space between your neck and your ear, and as much as you liked it and felt like you could die right now and die happy with his dick buried deep in your cunt, both of his hands were now holding your hips while his fingers pressed with some strength there, you pulled away from his lips, his thrusts coming to a stop because he got a little bit confused at your actions.

"did i hurt you?" you could feel his grab loosening and quickly denied with your head.

"you're perfect, but i want to... you know, hear you" his eyebrows lifted at that, his cheeks blushing when he swallowed at your words "you sound so pretty when you're on it, please" sungho was just a big boy physically and mentally, but when you shared how you felt his dick literally twitched inside of you and he immediately resumed his thrusts, this time going deeper than before if that was even possible and he finally picked up a pace that made you grin a little bit out of pleasure.

he was so good for you, so good for your needs, so good to make you want more and more. but when he started moaning sweetly in your ear you lost it, you became a little bit more vocal too, both of your whines mixing together and resonating in the four walls of the roofted pool due to the echo in there.

he fucked you fast yet precisely, slamming his hips over and over again in that spot that made you cry out and clench your cunt around his already leaking cock. he was so into it that he almost forgot to keep his voice down, whining so softly in your ear before asking:

"are you feeling good?" you desperately nodded, letting a high pitched moan when he gave you a sharp thrust, your eyes were wide open while you looked at him, your hair coming in the way when he started fucking you like that, strong and sharped, making you jump a little bit but keeping you safe in his arms when he hugged your waist instead of holding your hips, you moaned before he removed the wet hair from your face and kissed your lips.

"you look so pretty, and you feel so good" he moaned against your lips, his right hand going down to play with your clit, causing you to spasm and grind down on his dick and hand.

"you feel so good too" was all you could manage to say before pressing your nails in his back, his shoulders aching a bit when you scratched him by mistake. and even though he was not into having those marks on him, it felt so hot in the moment that he might need to think about it twice. "i'm so close, so so close" your voice sounded wasted, cracking a little bit with each thrust he gave up into you. "please keep going, just a little more" but sungho was not that strong, he was not that good at holding himself back, specially not with your pretty voice saying those things to him, not with your arms holding him so close to your frame, not with your soaked cunt squeezing his dick and his desperation showing up. he couldn't, so he tried to pull out before he came, first because he wasn't coming inside of you without your consent and second because he wanted to make you come first.

but his ideas shattered when your arms did not allowed him to pull out, your head desperately denying before saying "please come inside, i need to come with you, please" it took him literally 8 seconds and almost 10 thrusts to come after that, the feeling of his warm dick softening inside of your while he rode his orgasm out making you come in his hand and around his cock. "goddam it" you whispered, your hands falling from his arms and resting on his waist, throwing your head behind while he was hiding his face in your neck, slowly kissing your chest while you both came down from your high and regulated your breath.

it didn't take him 2 seconds to kiss your lips when you looked at him afterwards, accepting the sweet kiss the boy was giving you and moaning at the feeling of his dick leaving your pussy, the emptiness coming back while your cunt clenched around nothing.

"how are you feeling?" he asked you softly, fixing your swimsuit and cupping your face with his right hand while his foxy eyes looked at yours.

"that was amazing, i had a while needing something like that" you laughed and he did too.

"that makes two of us" he reassured and then spoke again "are you taking pills or do you need me to get you something?"

"i'm okay, no worries, i got it" after that y'all just came out of the pool, not really into class anymore and tbh who would be? you went to change back to your regular clothes and you just know he followed you behind and went in the changing room with you.

that's how you both ended up making out, again, and how you took his number to hit him up if you ever needed anothed lesson. it really didn't have to be a swimming one tho.

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor x reader #sungho x reader #sungho smut #boynextdoor #boynextdoor sungho

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dipperscavern · 2 days

Text

more thoughts about this.. a sinister grin has appeared on my face

you honestly don’t remember what it was about. something along the lines of the lannisters taking you by surprise during the night, or sending you sansa’s head in the morning. either way, whatever it was had you shooting up, a hand on your chest as you’re pulled from a dead sleep. fear engulfs you, tendrils crawling up your spine, suffocating as they enclose around your neck.

the room was dark, candles having been put out long ago when you both retired for the night, bodies desperate for sleep. it’s ironic now, you insisted on putting the candles out, saying something about how you’d both sleep better in the dark. and in this moment, you wish more than anything that they were here, illuminating the tent with a yellow-tinted glow. your mind is hazy with fear, as your instincts scream at you to get some light on — a primal urge to need to see your surroundings in case you weren’t really safe. the rational part of your mind that’s just waking up tells you there’s no need. you’re with robb, he’s right next to you. he’d kill for you- die for you. you’re safe.

it’s like he can hear your thoughts. a hand reaches out for you, bringing you out of your head as you look in its direction, forgetting you won’t be able to see its owner. his hand is blindly looking for you, a half-asleep robb doing his best to assess the disruption of your sleep. you swallow, moving to wrap your hand around his. his touch anchors you, your mind focusing on the warmth emanating from him, instead of the nightmare that had you awake in the first place.

“y’okay?”

his voice breaks through the thick atmosphere, slicing its way through the small bubble you’ve built around yourself. part of you wants to tell him the truth, that no, you’re not okay. there’s surprise armies & headless men haunting your dreams, and you need him to be a big bad wolf and chase them off for you. but the other part of you knows he’d stay up as long as it took to make you feel better, and he gets so little sleep as is. it takes a lot to drag him from his work, and actually have him sleep a whole night through- without waking up in the middle of it to fuss over his war maps. the rational side of you reminds you of his devotion, and how he’d never mind helping you — which is true, he wouldn’t, but rationalism doesn’t win this time.

“yes- yes, m’fine, go back to sleep.”

“you’re a bad liar.”

you dread him not believing you, but a small, guilty part of you is glad he doesn’t, that he knows you so well. that he knows your hurried tone, your irregular pattern of breathing means you are definitely not fine.

what would have made you roll your eyes any other time, has you huffing out a breath of laughter as he sits up. the hand of his you aren’t holding comes to soothingly rub up & down your back, mimicking when you & catelyn would do the same to comfort him.

“c’mon, talk to me pretty. what’s got you up, hm?”

his gentle coaxing does wonders to break your resolve, cutting through your “will of steel” like butter. you sigh.

“no- robb, it’s silly.”

“thats not what i asked,” his tone grows firm, authority dripping from his voice, “whats botherin’ you?”

“jus’ a nightmare.”

your voice is quiet, borderline guilty. you & robb are at war- you’ve killed people with zero hesitation, stood up to men twice your size, and a nightmare is your kryptonite? it makes you feel silly, and you don’t want to bother robb with it, he should be able to rely on his lady.

“they took us by surprise. while we slept.”

robb is quick to reassure you. “anyone that wants to get to you has to get past me.”

you hum in agreement, body relaxing at his words. you already knew this, but hearing him say it made you believe it. you take comfort in knowing greywind is laid asleep by the door- you sleep guarded by not one, but two wolves.

“how can i fix it?”

the silence is palpable as you search for an answer, mind mulling over all the solutions you could think of, trying to pick the one that would settle you most. you find one soon enough, hoping your request isn’t too much to ask.

“make me forget? please?”

robb murmurs agreement, and even with darkness coating the room- you can hear his smile. it’s no secret that robb desires you. every hour of every day he thinks about you, & his favorite thing to do is fix your problems. what better thing is there than doing both at the same time? and plus, you asked so nicely…

so he makes you forget. his lips trail all over your body, licking & sucking at any skin they can reach, making your brain mushy with his touch. he slides his fingers into the warm, wet place between your thighs, making you gush all over his hand to prep you to take his cock. all the while, he praises you, reassurance falling from his lips while he lines his cock with your entrance, making you squirm from the sensitivity.

“robb-“

“shh- i know, pretty. s’okay, i’ve got you. i’ve got you.”

& afterwards, when you’ve cum twice and lay spent in robb’s arms, sleep pulling you closer — you secretly thank the gods. you thank them for nightmares & wolves.

#game of thrones #robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark prompt #robb stark imagine #robb stark x you #sigh #i unfortunately need him carnally #i’m gonna be so embarrassed about this in like ten minutes #the ending is so rushed i’m so sorry this is ass #i’m lowkey a fluff writer at heart #dippers writing style crisis #but anyways yeah i need his children hope this helps

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chaifootsteps · 8 hours

Note

there's a post on helluva boss' reddit that's like 'guess what's happening here!' [the shot where Stolas is singing onstage w/Verosika]

random reply roundup of responses, in order of how frustrating they are:

least frustrating -> it's a fakeout where it seems like Stolas is gonna roast Blitzo but instead he sings something sincere. This is the best of all possible worlds, if only Stolas would take some responsibility for what he did. Even this best case scenario is likely to be 'I'm so sad because he hurt me and all I wanted was to love him, poor little princely me :/' and Blitzo somehow falls for this BS

people pointing out roasting Blitzo will not help him/is still scapegoating him -> slightly better, though it still holds back from pointing out Stolas is the one in the wrong here and he doesn't get to complain when Blitzo is justifiably wary or angry at him

more frustrating -> Verosika feels bad for Stolas and wants him to realize how bad Blitzo is. Like yeah it's possible she'll project all the baggage from her relationship onto Stolas, but it doesn't mean that's a good thing to do. She's right that Blitzo treated her poorly, by his own admission with the credit cards thing he did, but her relationship with Blitzo is not the same as Stolas'. Blitzo is not the bad one in this scenario

-> Stolas sings about his heartbreak but doesn't name names. Um, he's singing it in front of a massive 'Blitzo sucks' poster with Blitzo's ex onstage. That excuse really doesn't fly, given how open a secret the 'affair' is it's obvious who he's talking about and Blitzo has every right to be hurt

-> Stolas' song is a 'wakeup call' to Blitzo. Er, wakeup to what? How it's Stolas' world now and he's just living in it, so he better get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness?

-> Blitzo should initiate the apology to show he's grown! I agree Blitzo should initiate the apology...to Verosika. Then he should tell her what happened between him and Stolas so a succubus who likely knows what it's like to have people try to force themselves on her (that No dress in her photo with Blitzo, anyone) can have Tex throw him off stage and get the crowd to egg his royal ass. If anyone needs a public humiliation here it's Stolas, not Blitzo

-> the song is a love ballad but it becomes an excuse for Blitzo & Stolas to roast Verosika who was doing a diss track. Only on the Stolas Show featuring Misogyny and Plotlines Ripped Directly from Fanfics, am I right?

most frustrating -> changing the lyrics to Poison so Stolas is the one singing it about Blitzo. No, I'm not kidding. We've well and truly crossed the DARVO event horizon here

side note, I'd love for these Stolas stans to articulate why they think Stolas has a fair reason to be hurt by Blitzo.

"He lead him on!" Uh, when? Blitzo was coerced into a deal to keep his job and kept up his end of the bargain.

"At Ozzie's!" He wasn't the one who called it a date, Stolas was. Blitzo's reaction at the end of the night make it very clear he thought Stolas wanted sex out of him & he didn't invite Stolas along as a date. He obviously thought he needed to appease Stolas by sleeping with him but he just wasn't emotionally up to it, so he called Stolas out for trying to have it both ways. If Stolas had any self awareness at all he would have learnt something from that.

"Blitzo lead him on by sleeping with him!" They had a one night stand after which Blitzo robbed Stolas, ghosted him and then was repulsed by/turned down his advances multiple times (and extended that attitude to his text responses, too). It's not Blitzo's fault Stolas was living in wilful self-delusion and making an imp responsible for fixing the life he trashed when he very much consented to cheating on his wife

I had to read this backwards so as to retain a little of my faith in humanity. Also, I'd just like to put it in writing now that I'm holding out a miniscule scrap of faith for the first option, because I never learn.

#Anonymous #stolitz critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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cuubism · 51 minutes

Text

I kind of just forgot to finish this fic - whoops!

physical therapy - the final installment

Hob helps him put all his books and things away. It gives his flat slightly more color and life. Dream still feels his lost art as an aching hole in his chest but at least he has this, Hob and these incremental improvements.

When they’re done he orders takeaway, and over his lo mein he mulls on what happened, on what he said. Hob didn’t actually say it back. But it— it’s fine. Even if Hob doesn’t say it aloud, it’s okay. Dream knows that Hob loves him. He shows it. He doesn’t need to say it. Dream’s ex-lover had, after all, said that he loved him frequently. “Come on, you know I love you.” But where had it shown up? That was not love. It was the opposite of love.

So he doesn’t need Hob to say it back, it is enough that he—

“Hey, Dream?” Hob says, interrupting his thought. His smile is warm, successfully banishing any hope of Dream finding his line of thinking again, as sunlight does to shadows. “I love you.”

“You were just thinking that now?” Dream asks weakly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t say it before. I was too startled that you did.”

Dream supposes he had said it somewhat… fast. He has often been too fast in relationships, but he means it this time, in a different way than before. This love is fast but it’s real. It’s not just infatuation, or, as he’s slowly realizing some of his past relationships may have been, simply desperate bids to feel loved.

“I’m glad you were my physical therapist,” he says, and Hob laughs. I’m glad that we found each other.

“Me, too.” He takes Dream’s hand, the mostly-fixed one. “And I’m glad you got out. That was really brave.”

Dream scoffs. “I do not see how being so afraid could be brave.” He had never felt brave. Only terrified.

“That’s exactly why it was brave,” Hob insists. “You were scared but you didn’t let it stop you. And you didn’t let it stop you from creating art again, either.”

Hob seems to believe it quite fervently. Perhaps… Dream can try to believe it as well. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream decides not to contradict him this time. He just eats his food, and basks in Hob’s company, coming back again and again to the fact that Hob went to get his things for him, defended him. Every time he thinks about it, he feels warm inside.

And later, when he curls up with Hob in bed, he thinks he feels… good. And safe. And maybe hopeful.

—

Several weeks later.

—

Dream has taken to spending more time in Hob’s flat than his own. Though his flat feels slightly more homey with the addition of his books and other things, it’s still not quite right. And he can’t shake the habit of blocking the door when he’s home alone. He still feels safer if he’s in Hob’s space, if Hob is around.

He doesn’t realize Hob knows that until he pushes aside the shelf he’d shoved in front of the door to let Hob in one night, and Hob looks from him to the shelf and back and says, “Are you still doing that?”

“What,” Dream says, eloquently.

“I can hear you,” Hob says, with a sad little smile. “Just didn’t want to make you feel awkward about it.”

“Oh,” says Dream, suddenly embarrassed. He— he should be more confident, shouldn’t he? And yet.

“You can come to my place if you want?” Hob says. “Even if I’m not there. I’ll give you a key.”

Dream goes to turn him down out of hand, he doesn’t need Hob to do that for him—

But. He wants it.

“Hell,” Hob says, and now he’s the one who seems nervous, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “just move in if you want. I like having you there.”

“You,” Dream says slowly, “would let me move in? Already?”

Hob gathers his confidence, taking a deep breath. “Why not? If you want to.”

Why not, indeed.

The more Dream thinks about it, the more he finds he likes the thought. He does not know if he can transition his entire life into Hob’s flat, not yet. Perhaps he’ll maintain his own flat as an art studio, or as a sort of… escape route, for he does not think he can handle having to flee his own home with nowhere to go ever again. But, on a regular basis… he thinks he might like simply being with Hob. It feels easy. Is it alright for it to just feel easy?

“…Okay,” he says, at length, and Hob beams. If he had smiled like that from the beginning, Dream might not have paused to think. He would do anything for that smile.

“Okay!” Hob echoes, still with that beaming smile that makes Dream feel like he’s standing directly in the sun. “I’ll get you a key.”

Dream smiles back, and his smile feels almost as easy as Hob’s.

—

The night after moving the last of Dream’s things in—he has, in fact, maintained his flat as a studio, but has moved everything else—flush with rather too much wine, they find themselves sitting in bed, having made the dubious, intoxicated decision to break out Hob’s barely used finger paints.

Giggling drunkenly, Hob dabs some blue paint on Dream’s forehead. Dream goes cross-eyed trying to look at him.

“You are bringing your meager finger painting skills to bear to paint me now?” he says.

“Is there a more perfect canvas?” Hob traces a star shape onto Dream’s cheek. “Besides. I’m no good with the canvases. You’ve seen it.”

“Your skills lie elsewhere, I think,” Dream agrees, and Hob laughs. “But they are many. However. Since you’ve started this, you should know—” Dream’s lips twitch in amusement like he's about to start laughing over something he knows and Hob doesn’t. "This is not body paint.”

"So? It's just tempera paint, it's not dangerous."

"No," Dream agrees, trailing his fingertips across Hob's chest, "but it is going to stick in your hair."

Fuck.

Dream giggles, then slathers a whole palm full of orange paint across Hob's chest, truly coating his chest hair in it, tracing a heart pattern in its wake. God, he's a menace.

"Oh, no," says Dream, deadpan, "now you will have to soak in the bath for hours to get it all out."

Hob dips his fingertips in the blue glitter paint and smears it over Dream's temple, tangling his fingers in the longest strands of his hair. "Now you'll have to be there with me."

"Horrible," Dream says, giggling again. “How will I survive it?”

Hob draws a heart shape on his chest, then kisses him, getting paint on his mouth. It tastes horrible, but he doesn’t care, because he’s kissing Dream. It’s always a marvel.

Dream curls his hands into Hob’s hair, making it all tacky with paint. He kisses Hob’s cheek, leaving a painted mark. “I think you are a lovely canvas,” he says. “Perhaps the loveliest. Should I paint you? I think you would look gorgeous.”

The thought of Dream’s delicate fingers all over him as he makes his paintings makes Hob shiver. “Paint me all orange? I’m sure it’ll be flattering.”

“Orange, and red, and yellow,” says Dream. “The colors of the sunset.”

Hob feels unexpectedly sentimental about it. “I’d think an artist like you would be using words like ‘ochre.’”

“Unfortunately,” Dream says with utter seriousness, “finger paint does not come in ochre. Though it would certainly complement your skin tone.”

Hob laughs. Resolves to try to find finger paint in ochre just to make Dream smile.

“You’ll just have to make it with the primary colors,” he says.

Dream grins, caught immediately by the paints, and sets to painting Hob how he sees fit. Hob submits to the treatment. Tries to cope with the feeling of Dream’s fingers all over him without having to put the paints aside and initiate another activity entirely.

Later, buzzing with the feeling of Dream touching him and sticky with paint, he finds himself in the bath, Dream lying against his chest and dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair, leaving eddying swirls of orange paint in the water as it slowly washes off. Dream’s own hair is still clumped together with blue glitter.

“This is slower to come out than I even anticipated,” Dream observes, still lightly touching Hob’s chest. “Perhaps next time you might acquire actual body paint.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just make a painting of me instead of painting me,” Hob suggests, chuckling.

“It was your idea,” Dream reminds him.

He lays his cheek on Hob’s shoulder, smearing more of the wet paint. “This was fun. I always enjoy the time I spend with you.”

Hob runs a hand through his hair, dripping water and streams of blue. It’s worth any and all mess to see Dream smile the way he had. “Me too, love.”

“Being with you makes me want to make art again,” Dream says. His lips quirk in amusement. “And not only on you.”

It’s really all Hob had ever wanted.

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he says, holding Dream close, “I’m so glad.”

—

A few months later.

—

Hob is so proud of Dream for deciding to exhibit some of his art again. Hob’s always thought Dream’s new art was lovely, but he knows Dream didn’t always feel the same way. And still, his new art doesn’t look the same as his old pieces. But he’s putting on an exhibition anyway.

Hob might have taken him out for an embarrassingly extravagant dinner to celebrate the announcement.

Now he’s reaping the rewards—the reward, of course, being gazing at Dream in his formal wear. He looks incredibly elegant in his glittering black suit. It had taken Hob a while to get his mind back online after first seeing him, and he’d had to dip him into a kiss before they left the flat.

Now that they’re actually at the show, he’s managing better to keep his thoughts suitable for a public space, but mainly because he’s more focused on how Dream is feeling. And on keeping any unsavory characters away, should they dare to show up.

But as they stand in the corner of the room, watching the people milling about and studying the paintings, Dream is fidgeting. Shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, rubbing his fingers together. Hob watches him do it for a few minutes before finally saying something.

“Are you worried he’s going to show up? Because I’ll throw him out.”

“I know you will,” Dream says. Still, he keeps watching the room nervously, all the people meandering around, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s not that. It’s… what if they all hate it?”

Hob takes his hand and squeezes it. “Did you used to get nervous before?”

“Sometimes. But I knew, at least, that I felt confident in what I had made. What anyone else thought of it was of less importance.” He looks up at the painting they’re closest to, a large, cool-toned piece. “I still feel sometimes that it is not right, now.”

“Maybe it’s right for now,” Hob says, and Dream looks at him questioningly. “Didn’t most famous artists have seasons? They didn’t always work in the same style for their whole careers.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He sighs. “I am still getting used to it.”

“You also don’t have to sell them, if you don’t want to,” Hob points out. “Remove that whole bit from the equation.”

“I want to know that I can,” says Dream. “That this, as a career, is not hopeless.”

“I’ll buy them,” Hob swears.

“One, that would result in a net of zero money coming in. Two—” his lips twitch up— “you can’t afford me.”

“You’re right, I can’t. You should have tipped your physical therapist, then maybe I could.”

“I’m already sleeping with my physical therapist, now I have to pay you as well?”

“Sex can’t buy paintings, Dream,” Hob says sadly. “Well, unless...”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll just do a portrait of you for my next exhibition,” Dream muses. “A nude one.”

“Hell yeah,” Hob says, and Dream, evidently anticipating a no, starts giggling. “Just don’t sell it. Makes me feel weird to think of some random guy with one of my nudes above their mantlepiece.”

“One of your nudes?” Dream asks, raising an eyebrow. “There are others I’m unaware of?”

Hob just winks at him.

Dream studies him, intrigued, for another moment, tongue running over his lower lip. He’s learned what that sort of look does to Hob.

Hob swallows hard. “Could get started on it now?”

Dream chuckles. “Later. For now—” he straightens his shoulders— “I must try to sell this art.”

In the end, Dream did manage to sell a few paintings. Hob didn’t even buy any, though he was tempted to. Even without his interference, Dream left the exhibition flush with cash and, more importantly, pride.

Hob knew he hadn’t really believed he could do it: make art again in the first place, and especially not of a quality that someone would buy. But he’d done it.

He’d insisted on taking Hob out afterwards, rather than the other way around, and now Hob is shepherding a rather drunk Dream back to their flat.

“They actually liked it, Hob,” Dream says, and hiccups. He leans heavily against Hob’s side as Hob tries to maneuver them up the stairs to the flat. “The new art. They liked it.”

“I know, sweetheart, they did,” Hob agrees as he somehow gets them both through the door. He tumbles them into the bedroom and sets Dream down on the bed. Dream flops backwards, lying on his back on the mattress.

“It’s allll because of you,” he slurs, staring up at the ceiling. “You fixed…” he waves his hand vaguely.

Hob gets Dream’s shoes off, and then his own, and crawls into bed beside him. Their nice jackets and shirts crumple but he pays it no mind. “Oh, yeah? What did I fix?”

Sober Dream, he thinks, knows that this wasn’t really Hob’s doing. That no matter what Hob had contributed in terms of rehabilitating his hand, it was Dream who still had to put in the work to get back here. Dream knows that, usually.

Drunk Dream is trying to tell him something different, he thinks.

“All of it,” Dream insists. He lays his limp hand over his heart. “Me.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Hob leans over him to kiss him. Dream hums in pleasure and twines a hand in his hair, tugging him down.

“I love you,” he mumbles, lips smearing against Hob’s. He sounds so happy. Very, very drunk still, but happy. Hob remembers the caged, nervous Dream he’d first met, who’d barely wanted to let him see his hand. Maybe he has managed to fix something, after all.

“I love you, too, baby,” he says, unexpectedly choked up. Dream cuddles him close, burying his face in Hob’s neck, worming his limbs around him so they’re all tangled up together. Hob holds him like that until he falls asleep, resigning himself to their ruined formal wear, basking in the fact that Dream is happy.

It’s all that matters to him, in the end.

#brief yet very sappy ending #physical therapy fic #my writing #dreamling

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coolgoodandfine · 1 year

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Shhh... secret draft designs. Don't tell Twitter yet. Please give me any feedback, and feel free to read my many design thoughts under the cut. Also feel free to use the designs yourself.

Alright! The things right at the top that i wanted to keep in mind were things in the series that are distinct to mechanites vs things warforged have.

As far as I remember, there are only two notable ones. Mechanites have jaws that cannot move, instead they have face plates that can open up. And while the other isn't stated in canon, warforged have crystals in their eyes, and mechanites are never pictured or described in that way.

I almost broke the first rule on purpose with DX-TR, seeing as he's described as human-like and the negotiator, but as I was going through the series again, he was explicitly stated to have the same stiff jaw.

The only heights (I think) we have were that VR-LA got the haha funny meme number at 6'9", MR-SN was a few inches taller, and C-RA is at least as tall as Finbar (7'2"). From there, I wanted DX-TR to be nearly as tall as VR-LA, so he's around 6'6"/6'7". E-DN is about the same height as him because I feel like with her satyr legs, her being taller made sense. I put K-LB around 6'2" because I was originally going to have a slight joke that this height was after he'd already made mods to himself with heels and his mohawk. I didn't like how the heels came out, so I left it out. AS-TR is the shortest at the bare minimum height for warforged at 5'10". I'll get into that in the section discussing her design.

While it didn't really come up in these designs, since VR-LA has been pictured with yellow eyes, and described with blue, I've headcanoned that mechanites eyes change color based on how much processing they're doing. So the default would be blue, when they're calm and just hanging out. Their eyes switch to yellow when they're concentrating or focused on something specific. Orange is when they're flustered or upset. Red is the dramatic color for when they're really angy. I'd imagine someone like DX-TR can deliberately control it to avoid giving away some tell, but I don't think it's common for mechanites to do it.

The designs are mostly based on the same shapes and pieces that VR-LA has, rather than Vice/He-11, as those feel like they're kind of unusual in that regard. And even if they're not, I'd still chalk it up as a difference in their plane of origin. Onto individual character notes!

C-RA was described as being large, having a sort of knights templar, aesthetic, somewhat like living armor but more organic. Mostly what I referenced was plate armor, so pretty straight-forward. That being said, I feel like her design's a little plain. I wanted to add something to her head to help distinguish her head silhouette more. Plus I feel like her colors are too desaturated, and she just doesn't really have a shape that carries throughout her design. Idk, it's fine, but it just doesn't feel striking.

MR-SN was described as being slender, regal, and with a permanent smile in his eyes. I feel like I had a similar issue with him that I had with C-RA where there doesn't seem to be anything that carries through his design. I feel like I captured the face pretty well at least where he looks kind and kind of like a dad who's just proud of you. He's one I kind of feel like with clothes, his design might work better. I had no clue what color to go for, so it's just a color that I thought would be unique enough to the group.

VR-LA is just based on his season 1 art. The only thing I changed from how I drew him before, was mostly just proportions, like around the joints. I wanted him to be a thin, scrawny nerd, so he's also more narrow than before. My goal was half of C-RA's size, and I think C-RA's about 1 1/2 VR-LA's, so it's close enough.

DX-TR was described as human-like and bald with a flesh tone color. He was honestly really easy. As a joke, I referenced Seth Everman for his face sculpt, and I think it came out well. Mostly I referenced human muscles for his sculpt. I considered giving him tattoos, but didn't really have any ideas for that. He's got two notably unique traits from the rest of the group. He's the only one without shoulder pauldrons, which I kinda want to change, but idk there, and the light in his eyes is round rather than the cross design I treated as baseline. I wanted a less human saturation in skin, and I don't think I achieved that, but I'm not sure it'd look as good. I kinda want him more uncanny valley, but idk what to do there.

E-DN was described as a similar mechanite design as VR-LA, but with satyr legs. I gave her horns and horizontal pupils, mostly just for variety. I gave her a little more of just a round shape compared to VR-LA's more angular shapes. Her design I like over all. I like the colors, and I think the mint accents help her stand out. She's got good shapes and a good silhouette. And everything feels like it came out pretty well with her.

K-LB I'm torn on. I almost feel like he stands out too much. As far as what's described, I had the hardest time figuring out his design. He's described as a standard mechanite that's gold with fine gold filigree that looks like wire mesh, as well as a blue glow from his arms. I was going for somewhere around a punk-ish Rodney Copperbottom from Robots kind of idea. The filigree mesh I just used a nonsense text brush because i didn't have any specific ideas there. I like how the yellows/blues look together. I like the hexagon shape that carries throughout. His silhouette's mostly different enough from everyone else. I don't think he's too saturated. Yet I just don't feel like his design fits him, and I don't know what to do. He's the one I feel like scrapping and redoing the most.

AS-TR was described with long hair, and a slight glow, but didn't have much of a description as far as I remember otherwise. She had two notable design inspirations. Selûne and my cat who coincidentally has the same name (mostly my cat lol). One of Selûne's avatar's is described as long limbed (which is kind of how I just drew the mechanites), with pale hair, dusty skin, and green eyes. The pattern around her eyes is a less exaggerated version of some of her iconography. Her eyes are tinted green with her holy symbol as the shape of the lights. If I were smart, I'd actually have put all seven of the stars that are a part of Selûne's holy symbol (and I might change that later). Aster (my cat) is a tiny little black cat with a grey undercoat and two tiny lil white spots. So from there, I made AS-TR the smallest mechanite, she's two different shades of grey, and she has two little white spots on her chest in a similar size, shape, and location as Aster's. As a result of the name coincidence, and from what we've seen, similar personality, AS-TR is required to be my favorite, lol. Even excluding that though, I do like how her design came out too. Like I said, I might change the design slightly to have the seven stars across her, and I might change the greys to have more contrast because they're too similar, but the whole design came close to what I had in mind.

Over all, I'm pretty satisfied with all of these designs, and while there's things I'm going to change, I think these are all pretty solid.

#my cool sketches #my cool art #i didn't do clothes yet #ended up putting in a lot of effort into the colors #if you read all of the read more i'm sorry i typed so much lol #i needed to put my thoughts down so i know what i want to fix #rwd #rolling with difficulty #vr-la #c-ra #mr-sn #dx-tr #e-dn #k-lb #as-tr

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mokutone · 2 years

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image desc under readmore:

ID:

Panel one shows Tenzō having turned away from Kakashi. There's tears running down his face again, but his posture hasn't gotten tight and defensive again. "Hah. That's a pretty big drawback," he says, half joking,

Panel two, Kakashi's arms enter the frame and grasp the edges of Tenzō's happuri. Tenzō, seemingly caught off guard, lets him do this, too surprised to even mind that Kakashi can see his tears. "On the bright side, you have a home," Kakashi counters, "people you trust,"

"and a shiftless, good-for-nothing Captain, who's too lazy to fill out the paperwork for hospital-dodging." Kakashi says in panel three. The image shows Kakashi smiling more convincingly, if a little apologetic, gripping Tenzō's happuri in his hand.

Panel four shows him holding Tenzō's happuri out with one hand, and Tenzō grabbing the metal sides of it with both of his own hands. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure you're not a liability or a threat to Konoha," Kakashi says.

In the final panel of the comic, Tenzō ducks his head, looking up with one tearful eye as Kakashi reaches out. Tenzō is still gripping his happuri in his hands, close to his chest. Kakashi's back is drenched in the yellow light of the hall.

"My couch is yours, if you want to stay the night," Kakashi is saying as he ruffles Tenzō's long, now-unbound hair.

/end ID

#my art #naruto #comics #yamato #tenzō #yamato tenzo #kakashi #ok u can all breath a sigh of relief now #the situation is mostly over. tenzō is still coming down from his panic attack but its much less intense #and kakashi is going to set him up on the couch + probably put pakkun out there with him 2 help tenzō further if needed #and then kakashi is going to fix the wards that tenzō destroyed. hes going to flop down on his bed. and hes going 2 try his best 2 recharge #tenzō is going to tuck himself in on kakashis couch w/ pakkun resting on his stomach staring at him (its fine. its what pakkun does.)#and he's going to stare blankly at the ceiling for a few hours #occasionally flipping between thoughts of ''I'm the worst Kohai the world has ever seen. This was so inappropriate.''#or alternately just feeling impossibly lucky and warm and grateful and u know what. dare i say it. safe.#because. guess who just learned that he can rely on kakashi if he's out of his fucking depth. YEAH BABEEEYYYYY #not that he wants to put kakashi in a situation like this again. he very much does not.#anyway final tag notes:#thank u all for everyone whose been leaving their reactions in the tags and replies it has been soooo enjoyable to me #ive been slurping them up like noodles. yum yum yum. some of u have been right on the money and others of u have come up with #really interesting interpretations that i hadnt even thought of #and overall theres nothing like. being able to share ur work and see how people react to it kinda in real time? like page by page?#it was a pain to post it like this and i have no doubt it was a pain to read like this.#but it was lovely to recieve reactions to individual pages

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first-pass · 4 months

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I know he was sedated, but to me he died right then. Because that's not what he looks like when he's asleep.

#had to put my cat down earlier today #having a lot of thoughts and feelings about it as youd expect #hated that i didnt get to be there for his actual death because his veins were too small for the catheter thing so they had to use a kidney #stick and didnt want us back there #so they sedated him and then took him back #hated that. not their fault but hated it #hated that my mom kept trying to reassure herself he had a good life #i think my problem was actually that she kept doingnit outloud #who am i to judge how someone greives but who are you to impair my own process etc #if im to make compromise why are you not to do the same #i didnt like that he was cold. that was part of the issue his blood pressure was so low #his little paws ans ears were cold #he can die if he needs to but i dont want him to be cold like what a fucking #what a fucking #i dont know. how terrible to be uncomfortable while youre saying goodbye #i spent most of the day chasing sunbeams so that he could lay in my lap and be warm because my body temp wasnt enough to warm him up #and when they sedated him they just had him laying on his stomach and one of his paws was out in a way i knew he would have adjusted and his #tail was hanging off the table and he wouldnt have liked that either and it just made me so mad #because hes not comfortable and no one fixed it and #two very small things but thats whats sticking with me right now #im angry its winter and he was cold and he was sleeping uncomfortably #im not angry he died. im sad but he was 18 years old #and thats not really anyones fault #especially not his #my speaking tag #i think ppl generally tag stuff like this 'delete later' but i hate deleting things so uh #woe. cat feelings be upon ye #also am i well adjusted or am i repressing OR secret third option am i autistic #questions the world will never have an answer to.

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the-cooler-king · 4 months

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the mortifying ordeal of being fully perceived.. . I still haven't figured out how to talk about it and I'm realizing more every day I'm still pretty fucked up over what happened to me when I was 15

#I start talking to myself trying to actually hear how the conversation will go #And I stop every time #I can tell it as a story but even after that I'm just stumped #Because I don't know how my not-boyfriend will react first of all #I just truly don't know what to expect. He'll probably be very sweet about it but I just. Don't. Know #And I also feel.... like... anthy himemiya understands exactly what I want to say #Like why would I let the world pierce me with a million swords of human hatred #And why would I stay with that person like she does with akio?#It's hatred *of myself*. I wanted to hurt myself and the other person by staying.#I just... what will he think about that?#Utena.... wait for me.#I really need to ponder on this line of thinking a little more #Now that I'm far enough in the tags like I have it so bad for this guy. I never thought I would feel in this way again #I never presumed to be allowed such an option #And I get terrified suddenly by how wrong it could go. One misunderstanding. One bad day.#I just calm myself down thinking ok. It could go wrong but it hasn't today and I'll be goddamned if I don't try and fix it first #I will always put in the most effort I can with him. It's hard to explain but we both deserve that respect at this point #Anyway here's wonderwall

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drownedbycoffee · 4 months

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THEY AREN'T THE FEARS ANYMORE!! THEY'RE DESIRES

(SPOILERS for TMA, and all of TMAGP episodes so far)

Okay, here me out

Tmagp1: Darla wants to hear Arthur's voice again. She even says: "I just couldn’t face the thought of the rest of my life never hearing him again, I had to try" and later on she even says: "But I had to know, so I went to the cemetery."

Tmagp1: RedCanary wants to know about the Magnus Institute. They want to know why it's listed under 'cleared' when there's no evidence of it. Hence why they go and explore it.

Tmagp2: Daria wants that absolute perfection. She wants to change who she is and get out of that dark place. When she talks about the thing that she felt was missing, she says, "... and that’s when I decide I need a tattoo. I had a couple already – just little things on my shin and my wrist – but I decided I needed something big. Something that really changed my look." She also mentions when talking about Ink5oul that "they just kept pressing me about my life, about why I wanted the ink" instead of asking what design she wanted. And when she got the tattoo she describes herself as now being, "Someone I wanted to know more about." Afterwards she even says how "For the first time ever [she] wanted to attempt a self-portrait. Something real and physical, [she] wanted to feel the brushes in my hands and the oil on [her] fingertips." I think a lot of her statement is about her desire and impulsive need for that perfection and that wholeness that she has been aspiring to for her whole life.

Tmagp3: Samuel wants to stay hidden. He wants and he "need[s] to get up, get out of here for treatment." He wants to get better and most of his delirious thoughts are the things that he wants, or feels like he needs. E.g. "I so much want to see it [the sun] again. This night seems endless. I want to be warm again. I am terribly afraid. Thank god for Maddie. I need to treat her better."; "I just need to rest."; "I need to be careful or we’ll drift apart." And then obviously as the narrative continues, Samuel wants to grow and 'put down roots'.

Tmagp4: The narrator wants to be revered and accepted into the Royal Court Orchestra of the Palatinate. He wants to show off and impress. The violin "was a creature with needs and purpose of its own. The needs were simple enough. Blood. Flesh." It has these needs and desires.

So far, I'm interpreting it to be that everything so far can be interpreted as a desire of sorts, varying in the strength and intensity of it. Obviously, fear is still a big part of it all, because if you want something so badly, aren't you afraid of it being stolen from you? Of it being out of your grasp? Of it being unachievable or impossible in some capacity? Of it being a lie?

Even Sam wants to find out more. He wants to know the why and the reason for things. Gwen wants Lena's job. Collin wants to fix all these bugs and keep Freddie running. Alice wants to just get on with it because she found out that wanting to know the 'why' of things is dangerous.

I think that somehow when the Web took all the Fears into a different universe, they morphed into something else. Or they changed to fit what was the most prevalent thing in that universe, because after all, everyone wants something, even if it's something small and inconsequential. Life and aspects of it has always been characterised by that desire for something. Like people wanting food, shelter, safety, love, warmth, happiness, etc. And I think since the Web was so intwined with Jon and Martin, it absorbed some of their emotions when it found its way into this new world, because after all Jon and Martin wanted to stop Jonah/Elias, to stop the apocalypse, to destroy the Panopticon, to be safe, and they wanted each other. I think the wanting and fear of things are really entwined in it all, though this could be absolute bullshit haha

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fatecantstopme · 5 months

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Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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