Inspired by THAT scene from 6x18 “Where Blue Birds Fly” this is just a bit captain swan smuff. I actually originally had nearly the same idea that played out in that scene, but it happened before (and much better) I could write it. So I changed up my idea so as not to totally copy what they did on the show. Emma and Killian just want one, uninterrupted morning to themselves, but it seems that Mary Margaret has sixth sense about these things and has really the worst timing ever. And also a terrible definition of the word emergency. 

A big thanks to @wholockgal for her help with beta and editing, working out the details, and the title. She’s amazing and I love her and you all should too. 

Also read here on A03 or on

Rate M-just in case

Emma was seated at the kitchen table, one foot tucked under the opposite leg, a cup of coffee and a plate containing what was left of the strawberry pop-tarts she’d consumed for breakfast next to her while she flipped through the bridal magazine she’s picked up at the store yesterday. As she turned the pages, folding down the corner on anything that caught her eye, she absent mindedly twirled the diamond ring that now sat on the third finger of her left hand. It had recently been placed back on said finger, after Killian had returned being sent off to another realm by Gideon. And since the moment he’d proposed for the second time, they had made good use of every quiet moment alone to enjoy each other. (Sometimes several times in one night, and on nearly every surface of the house.)

 “Finding anything you like, love?” 

Emma looked up at the sound of her fiance’s voice. She’d been lost in her own thoughts and hadn’t heard him come down the stairs. 

“A few things,” she replied, giving him a smile. “But I don’t know if I can find anything like them in Storybrooke. I think my choices are going to be pretty limited.”

 Killian moved into the kitchen and stood behind her, hand and hook on her shoulders as leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “I’m sure, whatever you choose, you’ll be ravishing,” he said, his voice husky as he nipped her earlobe. 

Emma squirmed a little in her chair, and bit her bottom lip as memories of everything else he’d nipped last night came flooding back to her. They’d had quite the pleasurable evening when they returned home from dinner at her parents apartment, with Henry deciding to stay at Regina’s they’d had the house to themselves. Being separated by realms, and with the Final Battle looming in the not too distant future they weren’t wasting any of the quiet moment they had together and, well, Emma hadn’t been sure she was going to be able to walk down the stairs this morning. 

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Reverse Heroine | (II)

parts: ➳ 1 | 2 | 3 / ?

a supposedly only 2 part fic ft. fuckboy!jungkook x


summary: because platonic love is underrated

genre: college au, fluff/angst idk?

word count: 5.1k

a/n: I probably fluctuated too much with the comedy and angst on this but because i wrote on different days it just really goes by my mood. i also probably should stop thinking that I’m being really funny because i’m laughing at my own jokes like its so sad somebody halp me. 

shoutout to the cutest baby that i need to protect from Jungkook the rude hip thrusting brat: @mintmintyoongi you’re so cute and sweet omg my grandma heart is alive and well when i think of you

let me know what you guys think of the new chapter!

              After the interruption from the well-loved couple, the party resumed to its previous state. Smashed students downing on drinks and- wait, is that Kim Taehyung doing a keg stand right now? You shake your head in amusement; that boy never fails to go all out during parties. You’ve already walked around the frat house twice in search for Jungkook, seeing way too much going on for your liking, but the boy was still nowhere to be found. Popping a couple of beers yourself, your bladder was now urgently sending a signal – yep, it was definitely an emergency. You run to the closest bathroom, hand on the knob to find girl on the counter and your favourite fratboy standing between her legs, lips locked like they were about to devour each other.

               The caramel locks are recognizable at first sight, which are currently entangled in Jungkook’s hand like a wild animal. The sophomore has taken it too far this time, messing around with someone like her. With anger bubbling in your stomach, you pull on Jungkook’s t-shirt, separating the bodies apart. With some space between the two, you realize that the girl was indeed Park Sora – daughter of President Park of the director’s board. She looks embarrassed and flustered in being caught in action, immediately closing her legs together in hopes of saving her prim and proper image.

               “You’re coming with me, Jeon.” A hiss comes out of your mouth and Jungkook makes no attempt to resist, he was smart enough to know not to mess with you when you were fuming.

               Dragging the drunken body outside, you muster all your strength and throw Jungkook onto the ground. He groans in pain at the contact and your heartstrings tug for a second before returning to your iron expression once again.

               “It’s only grass, Jeon. You’ve been slammed countless of times like this in football, stop pretending like it actually hurts.” You roll your eyes as you wait for the boy to get up on his feet. The fresh and brisk air outside seems to have Jungkook sobered up a bit, who tries to push through you to get into the house again.

               “Leave me alone, loser.” He mutters, alcohol stenching his breath. “I have to get back to Sora.”

               You pull him back to stand in front of you, hands tugging on the collar of his shirt. “I’m saving your ass, you idiot! If President Park finds out about you messing with his precious little daughter, you can kiss your sports scholarship goodbye!”

               Your hands release Jungkook when he seems to finally realize the situation that he got himself in, no longer demanding to get back inside. He sucks in a breath of cold air as he kicks the grass on the lawn, obviously aware of the consequences of his actions but still pissed off that you called him out like that.

               “Kook, I thought you were better than this.” You groan, pulling your messy locks back from falling forwards. “You-you know that you shouldn’t mess with girls like that. She’s going to take everything for serious! And I can’t let you hurt her like that”

               Everything falls silent. Too tired to keep yelling at your friend, you watch as Jungkook stands before you – head looking down with his bangs covering his eyes. The climax of the party continues in the back of the house, muffled music filling up the dead space between you and Jungkook. The unsettling tension is making you crazy until he finally decides to speak again.

               “What if the one that’s hurt is me?” Jungkook looks at you for the first time since the two of you have been outside. His eyes are bloodshot and watery, and his pained expression makes your heart clench in sympathy.

               “What?” A soft sound escapes your lips, confused to what Jungkook was saying. “What are you even sayi-”                

               “I lied. I lied to you, Y/N.” Jungkook whispers. “That night, when you asked me if I ever loved someone before and I told you that I didn’t.” He continues when you pull his hand into yours as support, feeling relieved at the contact. “I was wrong.” Jungkook looks up into the night sky, in attempt to keep his gleaming tears from falling. But it was no use, it was just too easy to be himself – not the infamous bad boy that the campus knew him as – whenever you’re around.

              “That feeling you mentioned, I didn’t- I just didn’t know what you were talking about. Until today, when I saw Jimin’s hands around her.”

               Jungkook takes a deep breath and shudder, needing a moment to get over his rush of emotions that was overwhelming him. You take this time to bring him to the sidewalk curb, sitting down with him beside you.

               “I’m in love, Y/N. With my own fucking best friend.” A series of soft cries escape from Jungkook’s lips, leaning onto your shoulder as support. You didn’t realize that he was crying until you felt his tears staining your skin underneath the t-shirt. You should’ve noticed the signs. It was bound to happen – the way he looks at her, the way he smiles when she does, and the way he suffers when he saw Jimin with his beloved. You should have realized that Jeon Jungkook was in love with Lee Daeun.

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Everyone deserves compassion

Warning/s: Drug abuse, drug overdose.

Summary: Based on a prompt by @kiichu​! Ed accidentally overdoses on hallucination pills and Fox is there to help.

Nothing happened when Edward took his pills. He wasn’t sure why; the pills had never failed to induce Oswald’s apparition before, and he’d only ever needed to take one to produce the desired effect. He had taken two, thus far, and nothing beyond a dizzying rush of energy had occurred.

It was really quite inconvenient considering he was attempting to give Oswald a respectful send-off at the docks by terminating his reliance on the drugs. He just wanted – needed – to see Oswald one more time, to give him a proper goodbye. 

His chest was feeling a touch tight as he flicked open his pill container. He had nothing on hand to wash the pill down with, so he had to swallow it dry, crunching it between his molars before letting it slide stickily down his throat.

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The Buddha’s Bravery

by Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche

At the heart of the Buddhist path is the understanding of samsara. This is the endless cycle of suffering to which all beings are subject as long as they believe they possess a self that is real.

What can we do about this? To begin with, we can commit ourselves to the path of waking up from our view that the self is real and in need of constant protection. Making this commitment begins with hearing the teachings of the Buddha and the instructions for meditation. Having found the teachings and the practice to be valuable, we feel confidence in the path we’ve discovered and in our own ability to follow it.

Buddhists have a ceremony for officially entering the path of meditation. It’s called “taking refuge,” and it involves embracing the Buddha as an example, the Buddha’s teachings as a guide, and the community of other Buddhists as helpful, supporting companions on the path. And what are we taking refuge from in such a ceremony? From this endless cycle of frustration — of seeking pleasure and trying to avoid pain. We recognise that this approach, ironically, only brings more pain.

What does it mean to take a vow of this kind? It means we acknowledge and renounce with conviction the cycle of suffering. It means that we’re giving our allegiance to something worthwhile, something that we’ve found to be true and wholesome and good. We have decided to take this path because we recognise that it leads to a place where we can flourish. Making this declaration enables us to begin to break our negative patterns and to develop the helpful qualities that we all possess inherently.

This intention is called ngejung in Tibetan, which translates as “definitely arising,” or “definitely emerging.” We are definitely emerging from samsara. This is a brave act. Taking this step is often referred to as entering the path of the warrior. We don’t mean warrior in the fighting sense, but in the sense that the warrior is heroic and courageous. The warrior-meditator’s job involves clarifying and subduing one’s own misunderstandings. It means overcoming fear.

We generally think of a warrior in battle as needing to overcome the fear of death. Comparing the warrior in battle to the warrior-meditator is not that far off. After all, whether we go to battle or not, we are all going to die. A warrior who succumbs to fear of death is unable to move forward into the next moment. The warrior gets stuck. We get stuck in samsara because of our fear of death. To have the definite intention to emerge from samsara is an act of warriorship, a way of dealing with our fear of death.

The Buddha, our first object of refuge, was an example for this kind of warriorship. He travelled on the path of awakening and overcame all sorts of difficulties. He demonstrated that fixation on the self can be overcome. He was brave enough to take a stance against materialism and his own attachment to pleasure. If we emulate him, we are emulating a being whose mind and actions were in accord with reality, who was not simply following the endless cycle of samsara.

We call the Buddha’s voice the dharma, our second object of refuge. He expressed his mind to others by showing them a practical way to achieve selflessness and to understand emptiness. He gave us instructions for realising the profound meaning of every possible situation.

The community of people who study and practice the Buddha’s teachings, the sangha, is our third object of refuge. As a group, the sangha keeps alive the instructions from the Buddha. Fortunately, because of the sangha, we don’t have to be alone on our spiritual journey. None of us is perfect, but because we agree on the truth of the Buddha’s teachings, we share a view of one another — and of all beings — as having basic goodness. In fact, we can see all beings as buddhas.

It’s helpful to contemplate the meaning of these objects of refuge. We can’t fully understand them from reading books. We need to try out the instructions for ourselves and work with our own mind to understand their deeper meaning. In this way, we take a simple, intelligent approach to the path. We think it over again and again. If it consistently makes sense (or makes progressively more sense, as is the case for a lot of us), we build up our conviction and our personal discipline by holding to principles we know are sound. And if we lose our conviction or forget why we have taken refuge, there are reminders such as impermanence, aging, sickness and death all around us.

Taking refuge ultimately asks us to overcome fear — including our fear of death — by closely examining it. Dying is terrifying because the consciousness loses the support of the body. There’s an unparallelled sense of loss and disorientation. But if we examine further, we must ask, Who is it that experiences this disorientation? Which part is “me”? Who dies? The mind consciousness is said to consist of thoughts, memories and dreams. Does that collection make up “me”? And if we cannot find a “me,” what is there to protect or be fearful for?

Regain Control - Jason Todd x Reader

Okay so before I accidentally kill all of you, here’s the happy ending (at least I think it’s happy. I’m not even sure if I know how to write happy anymore). Remember the first part of this is the same as Gun Control and No Control

Tagging: @speedypan @cait-writes-stuff @memento-scribet

Words: 1789

Moonlight streams through the boarded up windows of the abandoned warehouse you and Jason had been sent to investigate. It seemed that there was some suspicious energy emanating from the location, and even though nothing bad had come from it, the two of you had decided to check it out just in case. Besides. It’d been a slow week anyway.

Starting at the edge of the room, you investigate every inch of space for a source of the energy. There aren’t any false walls or trap doors. After cracking open a few crates, you decide there isn’t anything of concern. From the other side of the room you see that Jason has come to the same conclusion. You meet back up in the center to discuss your next course of action.

“I found nothing. How about you?” you put your hands on your hips and look up at Jason’s red helmet.

“I got nothing.” Jason puts his guns back in their holsters. “But something about this is bothering me. I just can’t place my finger on it.”

“Well, we can figure that out when we get back to the cave.” You rub your arms as if fighting off a chill, even though the air is warm. “Let’s go. This place is starting to give me the creeps.”

Jason nods in agreement. You both start walking toward the door. Just before you get to the door, Jason grabs your shoulder and pulls you back.

“Watch out!” He points to a trip line on the floor. You swear the wire wasn’t there when you checked the area earlier.

An echoing laughter bounces off the walls and meets your ears, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Klarion,” Jason mutters in your ear. It certainly explains the energy signatures reading from the area, but why is he here? You can feel Jason’s frustration as he scans the room for the Witch Boy. “What do you want, Klarion?”

“I just want to have a little fun. That’s all,” a bodiless voice speaks from what sounds like everywhere. A wisp of smoke draws your attention to a large stack of crates, and you focus on the form of Klarion and Teekl.

“Well we’re here to cut the fun times short.” Jason takes his guns out and prepares to fight.

“Awww, come on Red Hood. You used to be so fun, but now you’re just so boring.” Klarion floats above the crates and turns upside down as if he’s having a casual conversation with an old friend. “Never was able to predict how you’d react to a situation.”

“I’ve found my reason to fight.” Jason ever so slightly turns his head to you, and the knowledge that he’s referring to you stirs up the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hmmm,” Klarion spins right side up and narrows his eyes at you. “You want to fight? I’ll give you a reason to fight.” He cackles before he starts casting a spell. Jason raises his guns to shoot him before he can do anything, but Klarion is too fast. He sends a cloud of magic directly at you.

You try to move. Really you do. Every fiber of your body is screaming to get out of the way. But your limbs don’t listen. You watch helpless as the spell gets closer and closer.

But it never hits you.

At the last second Jason shoves you out of the way, absorbing the magic in your place. You stare with wide eyes as he hunches over and trembles, attempting to fight off whatever Klarion threw at you.

“Jay—Red Hood? Are you okay?” you place a hand on his arm and the tremors immediately stop. He stands straight without saying a word.

“Well isn’t this an interesting turn of events?” Klarion giggles.

You would have mouthed off at the Witch Boy were Jason not distracting you. His entire body language is mechanical, and he’s staring directly in front of him as he walks toward you. Ever so slowly, he raises his gun.

“Jason, no!” You yell and shove his hand to redirect his aim away from you. It might have worked better had his reflexes not been so quick. While you managed to knock the gun out of his hand, he took advantage of your momentary contact to grab your wrist.

“What is wrong with you?!” He doesn’t respond. You try to rip your hand away but his grip tightens.

“Say something!” You need to see his face. There’s no way you can fully figure out what’s wrong with him as long as this helmet is on his head. You rip the hood off knowing that he wears a mask underneath for emergency situations. And this definitely qualifies as an emergency situation.

But the sight under the hood makes your blood run cold.

He looks completely normal. Except for the fact that his face is completely blank. There’s no life. No charm. He normally has at least a ghost of a smile when he looks at you. But there’s nothing.

It’s like he’s turned into a mindless zombie.

You stumble backward in shock.

“What have you done to him?!” you ask Klarion, who is floating in the rafters and cackling.

“Oh, nothing much. I’ve just taken over his mind for a bit. That’s all.” By the tone in Klarion’s voice, it’s apparent that he is having the time of his life. “He’s going to kill you. The last thing you’re going to see before you die is the face of your partner. Your murderer.”

“You bastard!” You shoot at Klarion. You spend the next several minutes trying to think of how to stop Klarion and avoiding Jason’s blows. You don’t have any ranged weapons to hit Klarion with, and if you fight Jason you risk hurting him.

But you were never much of a long term fighter, and your energy is dropping with every blow you counter. Jason catches you in a slow moment and throws his elbow down on your shoulder, sending you to the floor with a yelp of pain. While down you manage to hit your emergency alert. You need backup, and you need it fast.

When you roll over to look at Jason’s painfully blank face, it’s down the barrel of a gun.

“Jay,” you whimper. You don’t even care that Klarion’s still here. The only way you have a chance of getting him back is by calling him by his name. “Jay, baby. Please. Please come back to me. I—I don’t care if you kill me, but do it as yourself.” Tears you didn’t know were there start welling up in your eyes.

“Remember me. Remember your family. Please let me see that beautiful smile one last time. Please, Jay. I love you.”

Jason doesn’t respond. He continues to stare blankly down at you. You expected him to have pulled the trigger by now. He should have if Klarion is controlling him.

That’s when you notice that the gun is trembling in Jason’s usually steady hand.

“NO NO NO!” Klarion whines. “KILL HER!”

Jason’s hand steadies.

You close your eyes to accept your fate.

When the gun goes of you don’t feel anything.

You hear an animalistic cry of pain, and you open your eyes to see that Jason has turned to face where Klarion and Teekl had been, his gun pointing at now empty space.

“This isn’t over Red Hood!” Klarion’s voice echoes off the walls, and as much as you should be concerned that Klarion now has a grudge to hold against the two of you, you can’t help but sigh in relief that he’s gone.

Sudden exhaustion washes over you, and you collapse onto the floor and start crying. Tears of relief that you’ve both survived this encounter. Tears of fear at the thought of what almost was.

“Y/N?! Are you okay?!” Jason is suddenly beside you. He’s taken off his other mask, and, even though his expression of concern hurts your heart, it’s the most relieving thing you’ve ever seen.

“Yes, Jay.” You sit up and take your mask off. In one swift motion you throw your arms around his shoulders and force your lips against his. He stiffens up at the initial shock, but eventually gives in and kisses you back. You rest your forehead against his and stare into his blue eyes. “In fact I don’t think I could be better.”

“I am so sorry, Y/N.” Jason wipes a tear from your cheek. “I should have broken free sooner.”

“You weren’t in control of yourself, Jason. But now you’re back, and we’re safe.” You break your stare and look at a crate, suddenly nervous at what you’re about to say. Something you’ve been meaning to tell him but just couldn’t find the words. “All three of us are safe.”

“All… three of us?” Jason looks at you in confusion, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “Y/N, you don’t mean…”

“Yes,” you nod before looking at him. “I’m pregnant, Jason. You’re going to be a father.”

“I can’t believe this,” Jason mutters with wide eyes. Fear rises in your stomach that he’s going to reject you. That he’ll be upset that you’re pregnant. “I mean, I’m going to be a father. But, Y/N, if I had pulled the trigger… if I hadn’t regained control…”

“That doesn’t matter now.” You place your hands on either side of his face so that he looks at you. “What matters is that you did regain control of yourself. Because you’re strong, Jason.”

“It wasn’t because of me. It was because of you. Because you fought for me. You brought me back, Y/N. And I’m so, so glad you did.” He pulls you into a tight embrace, and you relax into him.

“I still can’t believe it.” He mutters in your ear. “I’m going to be a father.”

“You’d better believe it, Jaybird.” You giggle, and he places a hand over your belly.

“I… I never thought about being a father. I never really had a good example.” He says with fear in his eyes. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“Jason Peter Todd. Don’t you dare think that you won’t be an amazing father. Because you will be.” You smile at him.

“If I am it will only be because you’re such an amazing woman. You brought me back into the light, Y/N. I can never repay you for that.”

“Your love is all the payment I need, Jason.”

“I small price considering I get your love in return.” Jason smiles, and you see calm slowly wash over his features once again.

“Now come on,” you stand up and pull Jason with you. “Let’s go get some froyo and talk about baby names.”

anonymous asked:

A lot of people seem to miss the point on otaku culture in V3 to a pretty severe degree. There's a reason why Shirogane is the ringleader people.

I feel as though a lot of people in the western part of the fandom might be sort of unfamiliar with how much the idea of being an “otaku” is intrinsically tied with very negative connotations in Japan. It’s easy in the west to treat it as a kind of funny term which basically just means really liking anime or Japanese media in general, but it goes much deeper than that.

There is quite a lot of societal pressure to succeed in the Japanese education system. The same applies anywhere, of course, moreso nowadays when millennials get looked down on no matter what they do or don’t do and the opportunities for successful jobs are slimmer than ever. But in Japan specifically, there is a high rate of depression and suicide attempts among high school students who cannot “keep up” or “fit in” with the pressure to succeed academically.

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Texting the Marauders in an Emergency:

James: Rushes to your side but doesn’t really know how to deal with the emergency. Will definitely call for backup.

Sirius: His response depends on how much he values your relationship. Spends some time considering how much he likes you before either replying or ignoring the text.

Remus: Texts back promptly. Tries to give decent advice but ends it with “idk tho it’s up to you”

Peter: Texts back 4 hours later like “You good?”

Grad School

My assignment this week is to develop a patient satisfaction survey based on the area that I currently work in. So far the only questions I come up with are inappropriate such as: Did you die? Was the person in front of you actively trying to die? How long did you have this condition before you decided it was an emergency at 2am? Please explain your definition of emergency? How satisfied were you with waiting for 4 hours to be seen? Would it have been easier to make an appointment?

This Distance Between Us

Fandom: Satan and Me
Ship: Natan
Word Count: 2000
Rating/Content: Just fluffy nonsense
Summary: When Natalie goes to college, her and Satan agree to cut ties. Satan finds himself struggling with the promise after she acquires his number.
A/N: Commissioned by @kohiiandink for @astarisms. “Back at you, you little shit” - kohii 2k16. My commissions are still open! if you’re interested please check out my info page here!

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Star-Lord (Reader Insert Smut)

 (prolly really bad because it’s my first one and other ones prolly won’t be as long but hope you like!!)

It’s always you’, you thought to yourself. It was you who was begging for everything. Yes, the sex was great, but it always ended with you in need. Peter Quill had always been a cocky bastard and maybe that’s what it was. What was so attractive besides his body and personality. He always flashed his famous cocky grin whenever your eyes bulged at his perfect physique. Sex was always a war between you two, and you were tired of losing. You were the weaker one who was always begging to release and you were always the one who would melt under any words or movement he made. And now, wrapped in his arms after your last encounter with his light, sleeping breath on your shoulder, you planned your next moves. HE was going to beg for it. You were going to make sure of it.

 You’re plan wasn’t that complicated at all, to be honest. You knew exactly how to play it. Once the Peter and the other guardians left on their next mission, you were going to get off the ship and take a little shopping spree. You always had a little extra money on you for emergencies. And, oh, this was definitely an emergency.

 Just as you had planned, you and Peter got up, you made breakfast for everyone, and he kissed you goodbye before he left. You made sure everyone was gone, even Groot now that he had outgrown his little pot. You threw on some pants and an easy shirt and strolled of this ship. You went into a nearby shop and asked the clerk where there was a store that sells clothes.

 “There a big shopping area right around the corner where they sell just about everything,” the owner said. ‘Perfect’ you thought. You thanked the clerk and left quickly.

 In the stores, you looked for the most revealing clothes possible. In fact, you were a little startled by how short and ‘showy’ these clothes were. But you knew what you had to do. You bought some short shorts, low cut tank top and shirts, very mini skirts, sexy bras and panties, and some nice heels. As you paid for these items, and you were sure to get a woman cashier, she looked up a little surprised at you.

 “Whoa, who’re you tryna seduce?” the cashier smiled. You thought about it for a moment. Because Peter wasn’t really your boyfriend. You and Peter never really put a label on your relationship, but you would like to think that you were more than just friends who slept with each other and kissed.

 “Someone special,” you smiled. That seemed like the best answer. The cashier gave you a wink and finished ringing up your items. You paid the amount of units you were due and left to hurry back to the ship before Peter and the others got home.

 Once you got back on the ship, you began preparing dinner and cleaning. Ever since, he picked you up on Xandar, doing chores is the only way you’ve been pulling your weight around here. You didn’t mind at all, really. It kept you busy during the day and the guardians seemed to appreciate a clean ship and home cooked meal when they got home from a long day of you know, guarding the galaxy. You made sure to leave Peter’s bunk for last. Not only was his the messiest, but you wanted to make sure that he found you in there when he got home.

 You never knew when Peter was gonna get home. It could be 7 hours or 7 days. You never got worried anymore than you used to. But nowadays, he would always send you a transmission when he was on his way home. And as soon as you got one, you were immediately getting ready. You took a shower and did your hair and makeup, put on some of your new sexy lingerie, and threw on some short shorts and a low cut tank top. When you looked in the mirror, you were surprised at how sexy you looked. The shorts show off your legs and your bottom. You liked how the tank top accentuates your breasts. But as you heard the ships door opening, you couldn’t stare at yourself a moment longer. You scurried off to Peter’s bunk and started acting like you were cleaning, and you were sure to bend over to act like you were picking up something.

You heard Peter enter the bunk and made sure to keep your cool. You were still bent over (with your back arched) and you heard him chuckle a little bit. Your heart beat a little faster every time you heard him take a step towards you. He slid his hand up your thigh and smacked your ass.

 “Hello, Peter,” was your reply. You stood up with your back still turned to him. You folded some of his clothes cooly.

 “Wow,” you could feel his eyes still on you ass, “I like these shorts. Bet they look even better on the floor.” Just by that phrase you could knew he was flashing one of his cocky grins. Normally, you’d be melting into his arms by now, but you had to stick to the plan. You knew exactly how to play this.

You pulled your hair to to one side, showing the nape of your neck (one of his favourite spots on your body).

 “Mmm, I bet you’d like that, right?” you said with all the confidence you could muster. You turned around and you thought his eyes would pop right out of his skull. You held down a fit of laughter. It was so weird, he was always the one who kept his cool. After watching him manage to regain his composure, he bit his lip and spoke:

 “You know I’d like that.” He pressed pushed you back gently to a wall and pressed himself up against you. You were literally stuck between a rock and a hard place, and you could feel his hard place against your lower stomach. Feeling yourself starting to melt, you used all your strength to flip your position, with him now up against the wall. You let your hands run down low against his tightening abs. Just as your fingertips reached the hem of his boxers, you stopped, leaned forward, and whispered in a low, sexy voice. “You know how much I love your hands all over my body. But, I’m feeling tired,” and you let out a little yawn.

 “Wait, what?” Maybe it was just you, but was there a hint of desperation in his voice. You swiftly turned around and strided forward to leave a hot and bothered Peter Quill in the corner against the wall. You made sure to sway your hips back and forth while exiting the bunk.

 “Good night, Star-Lord.” You heard his head bang against the wall as he let out a groan. ‘Just wait, this is only the beginning”, you smiled to yourself.

 “Fuck,” you heard him whisper to himself.

 This went on for about a week, you torturing him with short skirts. One time, you purposely left one of you lacey underwear on his bunk. Another day, Peter just happened to catch you trying on a new dress. You called him in to unzip you and as his hands trailed the zipper down your back, he sucked in a breath. The matching red lacy lingerie just happened to catch his eye. He cleared his throat. All week he’d been so caught off guard by everything it was amusing to watch him struggle.

 “Thanks.” You leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, but he leaned in for a makeout session. You dodged his lips and left a small peck on his cheek. You knew you were getting good at this. You turned back to face the mirror and ran your fingers through your hair. Peter grabbed your hips and thrust you back towards his hard torso. He had a good grip on your hips and you couldn’t budge your way out of this one. Once again, you could feel his erection and his hot breath on you neck. Then suddenly, he put his lips right up to your ear.

“How long is this gonna be? Don’t play games with me, baby,” he spoke. Your body was heating up faster and faster. You can’t lose now. Your brain started racing for how to get out of this. Just as his lips barely brushed against skin, you spun out of his grip.

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about but I’m taking a shower,” you declared innocently. You quickly strode over to your bed to reach for you robe. You bent over just so he would get a good look at your ass. He let out a moan but tried to quickly disguise it with a cough. You barely made it out alive of that one, but you were still on a roll.

 That weekend, Rocket decided it was time to get some fresh air (AKA hit up a local bar and get wasted). You were happy to get off the ship, as it had been harder to avoid Peter’s grasps. Just for him, you had put on another tight, black, low cut tank top and a light pink mini skirt that showed your ass when you bent over. Also, your new black stiletto heels fit like a charm. Once your hair and makeup was done, followed Gamora and the others out of the ship. Or almost did, because you hadn’t walked 5ft off the ship before Peter pulled you back and called to the others that you two were staying in.

 He was pulling you all the way back to his bunk. Even though had a death grip on your arm, you still stayed quiet. You still had a plan. Peter silently, but swiftly, pulled you into his bunk. You started to pull away slightly, but he pinned your arms down.

 “No, I need you now,” he grunted. You were a little scared but you were also turned on. He started kissing your neck so desperately that it was getting to be impossible to hold down your moans. You were losing again! So, once again, you used your strength you flip you both over so that you were straddling him now. You leaned down and ran your lips against his jawline up to his ear so you could nibble on it a little. He hissed a little bit. It was strange being the one in control like this, and you pressed your hands against his firm chest.

 “Are you hungry?” you asked sexily. You grinded yourself against his hard-on through his pants. He made some strange animalistic noise as you did this.

 “You have no idea,” he barely got out through his groans. You bit your lip to hold back you laugh. Then, before he knew what was up, you swiftly rolled off of him and onto your feet.

 “Great! I’ll make dinner!” And you walked out as he let out a huge sigh. He followed you into the kitchen and sat at the table as you made an easy Terran dish: spaghetti. Peter kept his eyes on you the whole time. As you moved around the kitchen, he stayed quiet. You were waiting for him to say some inappropriate comment whenever you bent down to get a strainer or leaned over to reach a spoon. His breath would just catch in his throat and he would go back to twiddling his thumbs.

 You served him a plate of food and now the real game began: The Staring Game. He kept his eye on yours and you kept yours on his. You bit your lip but kept you eyes locked on his dreamy blue ones. Either you lost track of time or he ate his food fast as hell because before you knew it he was getting up to put his plate in the sink. He quickly sat back down and met your eyes again. You lost your plan and all you had was his eyes. Then, it hit you. You flashed your most wicked smile, and he actually looked scared for a second.

 “Dessert?” You got up and strided across the table. Then, out of nowhere and for the second time tonight, you straddled his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your eyes never left his. He flashed a cocky grin and nodded. “Mmm, what do you want?” you asked seductively. Peter’s eyes scanned your body and you quivered slightly with pleasure.

 “You know I’m always in the mood for something sweet and tasty.” ‘No way,’ you thought, ‘you’re not winning with that.’ You pursed your lips and leaned forward more towards him. His eyes shot straight to your chest then back up to your eyes.

 “It’s a good thing we have ice cream in the fridge.” You replied quietly. You moved your lips close to his. Quill didn’t move an inch.

 “That’s not what I want.”

“Then what do you want?” You knew exactly what he wanted but this game was just too fun. You moved your lips even closer so that his was just barely touching yours. You could feel his breath. Your eyes never left his. His hands moved to your hips as he broke the gaze to look at your lips.


You wanted him to beg for it. “Mmm, what’s the magic word?” Quill rolled his eyes but you gave him a look. He was never one to ask for things. ‘He just needs a little encouraging’, you thought. That’s when you started rocking back and forth against his lap.

 “Please?” he groaned quietly.

 “What? I’m sorry I can’t hear you!” You grinded a little harder.

 “Jesus fuck–PLEASE?” Peter pleaded. You could hear the desperation in his voice. You had won. The great Star-Lord was begging you right now and you were loving every second of it. But you knew he needed this. You had tortured him for a whole week and you thought enough was enough. Plus, deep down you needed this too.

 You pressed your lips against his softly but the pressed his against yours hard. He’d wanted this for so long and now he would finally get his release. Quill picked you up out of the kitchen chair and led you to his bunk. He laid you down and then laid on top of you. You ripped off you tank top and exposed you black lacy bra.

 “Wow,” Peter breathed. You bit your lip and leaned up to kiss him again. Next, he took off his own shirt and removed your bra. As he leaned down to run his tongue over your nipple and knead the other breast, your breath hitched. ‘God this feels good’, you thought. Then, you removed both his pants and your skirt until you were both in your underwear. He reached down and palmed you through you lacy lingerie. Your back arched slightly, as you hadn’t been touched in a week.

 “God, you’re so wet,” he chuckled. Since you were feeling so brave you reached up and felt him through his boxers. His eyes fluttered a little bit.

 “God, you’re so hard,” you replied cooly. He took off his boxers and you slid off your panties. Peter scooted down the bed onto his knees and spread your legs. He gave you one last cocky little grin and a wink before dipping his head down to lick between you legs. He kissed you clit then started licking between your folds. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly and your eyes screwed shut. He kept licking swirling his tongue around your most sensitive areas. Then he started sucking and you were gone. Your hands were in your hair gripping your roots. Your back was still lifted off the bed. The moment he stuck his tongue inside you, you couldn’t hold out any longer. It was like a thousand guns being set off at once. Your body tightened and you swore you could see stars. After releasing in his mouth, he crawled back up and kissed you with determination.

 “You have no idea how much I’ve been needing this,” he breathed as his eyes scanned your body for the 100th time tonight. You grabbed his length and guided him towards your entrance. Leaning up to whisper, you kissed his collarbone, his neck, his cheek, and his lips when you finally spoke.

 “I need this too, so just shut up and fuck me.” And with that, he slammed into you. It took your breath away, but after a slight sting of pain, all that was left was pleasure. The only audible noise you were making were whimpers and moans. Peter kept plowing into you and it was like pure ecstasy. He was like a drug. You craved him, not just his body but all of him. And in those moments where he was going to town on you, you realized how much you loved this man. He was laying delicate kisses on your collarbone and neck.

 His thrusts kept growing longer and harder and you doubted you could last much longer. But, before either of you could release, you thought of something. You stop him and rolled on top of him. You were gonna tease him just this one last time.

 You rode him slowly and he groaned so loudly you had to cover his mouth. You didn’t know if any of the guardians were back and you sure as hell didn’t want to wake them. You lifted off him slowly and so far that you almost completely separated. His whines turned you on even more and you bit your lip and looked at him. Peter gave you the most desperate look you’ve ever seen on his face, you almost felt sorry for him. ‘The war isn’t quite over yet…” you thought.

 You slid back down him slowly and he threw his head back. You smiled slightly at the way his eyes shut.

 “Please,” he begged. God, you could get used to that. But, just for him, you continued riding him until you both reached your climax and Peter let out the biggest sigh after he released. You moaned his name and he pulled you down to him to hold you close.

 “I think I love you,” you whispered. You were embarrassed as soon as it came out. Your heart rate picked up. You never knew what was going on in Peter Quill’s head.

 “I think I love you too,” he replied to your relief. He kissed your shoulder and wrapped an around you. Even though you did truly love him, you were still extremely happy that you’d won the war.

learnette  asked:

ok so since this will get no traffic on my account since thats not what i post, i wanted to share this with you to share with your followers: eligius (the name on the prisoner ship) was the patron saint of goldsmiths and metal workers, which definitely fuels the theories emerging about the mining colonies.

I would like more information about these theories? 

Day 2: Dex and Holster

These are some headcanons  I came up with for Dex and Holster’s relationship, so I hope you enjoy them.

Dex and Holster: so soft and cute

  • Dex made a playlist when he first started crushing on Holster
    • It was crazy embarrassing, in all honesty
    • It was filled with lovesick songs, and he just was in a really pining mood when he originally made it
    • Truthfully, he actually added songs to the playlist as events would unfurl, and he needed something to match the mood of how he was feeling
    • Once they start dating, Holster accidentally finds the playlist and listens to it…let’s just say he cuddled the living daylights out of Dex afterwards, because he felt bad about the image of a sad, pining Dex loving him from afar
  • Extra pair of glasses, chapstick, and first-aid
    • They two definitely plan for emergencies and worst case scenarios all the time
    • Dex carries an extra pair of glasses for Holster, in case anything were to happen to the pair he’s currently wearing
    • They both carry chapstick around, and share because what is hygiene and how does one not share chapstick??
    • Holster carries a mini first-aid kit for Dex, in case Dex hurts himself while working or anything of the sort
  • Frozen yogurt and ice cream dates
    • They go a minimum of once a month, and a max of once a week to get frozen yogurt or ice cream together
    • They always attempt to try something new, and then wonder why they didn’t just stick to their original order
    • They most definitely share, and may even swap entirely if they feel the other has a better flavor than they do
    • Toppings depend on their mood and what they are feeling up to, is it a gummy bear day or a fresh fruit type of day??
    • Sometimes they prefer their toppings mixed in, other times they want them on top, and other days they just don’t want them at all
    • Toppings are most definitely stolen from each other…”I’ve tried asking nicely, and now I’m just going to demand it…GIVE ME A GUMMY BEAR!!! Screw it, my spoon is going in!!!”
  • Candle making
    • They saw exactly ONE video on candle making and ventured it was a hobby they should pick up
    • Wow is it time consuming…that video was a lie!!! No, that video was a time lapse…
    • After getting the hang of it though, they actually really get into it
    • They end up watching more videos together to see what other people out there are doing in regards to candle making
    • They even start sending each other videos they’ve seen, and now they just have to try that out for themselves
    • The first few attempts turn out kind of pretty bad…they almost call it quits
    • However, they stick with it for one more candle and if that one isn’t good then they are for sure giving this newfound hobby of theirs up
    • Well, they definitely got lucky, or improved their technique, or whatever and it turned out looking quite amazing and smelled really good
  • So much darn cuddling
    • Imagine two octopi wrapped around something, that is essentially what they are
    • Legs intertwined, arms everywhere, just enjoying being together and so close
    • They both enjoy being the little spoon, but they also enjoy being the big spoon…it really just all depends on how they’re feeling or what kind of day they had
    • Cuddle on the couch when watching TV or a movie, cuddle on the bed at night to sleep, cuddle on the park bench as they watch the sunset, cuddle on a picnic blanket, cuddle anywhere, everywhere, anytime, so much gosh darn cuddling with these two!!!

Imagine for @evs14u’s Barba for All Challenge


Imagine you and Barba getting in a fight and him yelling he loves you then it gets quiet.



“You know, Mr. ADA-I-Can-Just-Burst-In-And-Almost-Break-Down-Your-Door-Barba, I gave you that key in case of emergencies.”

“This is an emergency, y/n.” You hear him kick his shoes off. By now, you know he’s loosening his patterned tie. “Why are you going away with that man?”

“Our definitions of emergency are polar opposites. They’re not even in the same vicinity,” you say with a smirk.

“Kevin Nabokov is a crook and a crack addict!” Rafi is standing in front of you now. His face is crimson in fury, but of course you continue to play ignorant.

“Nabokov? I don’t know about crook or him being a crack addict but I do love his work; Lolita’s my favorite. I was awestruck at his ability to-”

“And you didn’t even tell me about this plan of yours! I had to find out from the scum himself. ” You have to roll your eyes at the petty insult. For someone who graduated law school with a scholarship, you think he would have an insult better than ‘scum’.

You stand up, facing Rafi.

“My lovely Cuban, papi, ADA,” you say, playing with his tie. Although when he shoots you a deterring glare, you pause. “Rafi, Kevin has gone to rehab, alright? I want to give him a second chance. Don’t you think everybody deserves a second chance?”

Rafael furrows his brows and analyze your silent plea.

“I believe deserving people deserve a second chance, y/n. He stole your money to feed his addiction. That crosses him off that list.”

“No; murderers, rapists, and people you fight to put in jail are the ones that are crossed off that list! Kevin does not fall in that category!”

“He does, y/n. He does!” You were appalled at the words Rafael threw at you. He cannot possible despise Kevin at this extent for him to say these things!

“Why won’t you let me give him a second chance?” You’re screaming at Rafael now; the audacity!

“Other than the fact he stole your savings to buy cocaine?” You unconsciously roll your eyes.

“Oh come on, Rafael! That was two years ago! I got my money back and he’s gone to rehab! Kevin is a better person now! There’s gotta be another reason! Why do you hate Kevin so much, Rafael? What’s he ever done to you?”

“He continues to take the woman that I love!”

Jiriki Hongan Revolution
Assassination Classroom
Jiriki Hongan Revolution

I recently became a fan of Assassination Classroom and let me tell you, this is the most addictive song. I simply couldn’t resist translating it, which was also helped by the fact that I couldn’t find a smooth English translation of this anywhere.

I aimed to make it at least partway singable, though YMMV on how well that worked. I didn’t note down exactly who sings which parts because this is long enough as it is, but I can put up a version including the parts if you so wish. Translation notes under the cut.

起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)
起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)

Oh - yeah -

先生 - ターゲットオン!
Sensei - target on!
(Teacher - target on!)

Potential takai hodomen dokusai
(The higher the potential, it only gets more tiresome )
ドロップアウト メンタリティー 非日常を凌駕し
Drop-out mentality hinichijou o ryougashi
(Drop-out mentality surpasses non-daily life)
Bokura wa utata ne kaoshite
(We assumed sleepy faces and just beneath them)
ナイフ隠し持った (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Knife kakushi motta (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(We grasped a knife [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])

Hottokeba kitto dareka yatte kureru to
(Leave it be, and another person will take care of it)
どこか 他人事だった
Doko ka taningo to datta
(It’s somebody else’s problem, we thought…)

Dake do…
(But still…)

Mr. Teacher 教えて未完成の僕ら
Mr. Teacher oshiete mikansei no bokura
(Mr. Teacher, please teach us, as incomplete as we are!)
貴方という不落ターゲット 打ち抜けるでしょうか
Anata to iu furaku target uchinukeru deshou ka
(Can we ever fell the indestructible target that is you?)
挑む限り (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Idomu kagiri (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(As long as we all try [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])
可能性は溢れた (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Kanousei wa afureta (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(The possibility is always there ([Arise! Bow! Lock on!])

Mr. Teacher 見ていて 迷い多き僕ら
Mr. Teacher miteite mayoi ooki bokura
(Mr. Teacher, please look at us, though we are hesitant)
誰よりも貴方の為に 猛勉強中さ
Dare yori mo anata no tameni mou benkyouchu sa
(For your sake, we’re studying a lot harder than for anyone else!)
殺意だけが (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Satsui dake ga (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(It’s only bloodlust [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])
貴方へのメッセージ (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Anata e no message (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(That can be a message for you [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])

Jiriki (gachide) hongan (ikuyo) revolution
(We’ll win [and fulfill] with our strength [this desire] this revolution!)

起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)
起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)

Oh - yeah -

先生 - ターゲットオン!
Sensei - target on!
(Teacher - target on!)

Hana no inochi to time limit
(The life of a mere flower and the time limit)
Naze ni sonna ni mijikai settai na no?
(Why is it the case that those settings have to be so short?)
Zasetsu kara no V-ji seichou
(Progressing to the V-sign from despair)
僕ら祈るばかり (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Bokura inoru bakari (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(That’s what we are praying for [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])

Taninkara jibun demo kitai sarenai
(Unexpected from ourselves, let alone other people)
Hibi ga iki wo fukikaesu…
(That feeling of recovering every day…)

… 感じ?
… kanji?
(… kind of?)

Mr. Teacher 見ていて それぞれに僕ら
Mr. Teacher miteite sorezore ni bokura
(Mr. Teacher, please look at us, though we each are separate)
貴方の言葉栄養に すくすく育ってる
Anata no kotoba eiyou ni sukusuku sodatteru
(Your nourshing words are helping us grow more day by day)
昨日よりる (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Kinou o yori mo (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(Compared to yesterday [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])
ヒヤリとさせたでしょ? (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Hiyari to saseta deshou? (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(We’re a litle scarier, right? [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])

Mr. Teacher 教えて 捩れ多き僕ら
Mr. Teacher oshiete nejire ooki bokura
(Mr. Teacher, please teach us, as troublesome as we are!)
選んだ理由をいつかは 読み分けるでしょうか?
Eranda riyuu o itsuka wa yomitokeru deshou ka?
(Will we ever know and understand the reason you chose us?)
あきらめずに (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Akira mezu ni (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(We won’t ever give up [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])
企てて行きます (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Kuwadatete iki masu (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(And plan every single step of the way [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])

Jiriki (gachide) hongan (ikuyo) revolution
(We’ll win [and fulfill] with our strength [this desire] this revolution!)

起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)
起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)
起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)
起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)
起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)

Oh - yeah -

先生 - ターゲットオン!
Sensei - target on!
(Teacher - target on!)

Arie nai koto dakedo
(This surely is impossible)
Kitto hijou jitai dakedo
(It’s definitely an emergency)
Fushigi (itsu no) dayo ne (hiyori)
(But it’s strange [stronger] isn’t it? [than before])
(That feeling…)

… って感じ
… tte kanji
(… that we’re alive!)

Mr. Teacher 教えて未完成の僕ら
Mr. Teacher oshiete mikansei no bokura
(Mr. Teacher, please teach us, as incomplete as we are!)
貴方という不落ターゲット 打ち抜けるでしょうか
Anata to iu furaku target uchinukeru deshou ka
(Can we ever fell the indestructible target that is you?)
挑む限り (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Idomu kagiri (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(As long as we all try [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])
可能性は溢れた (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Kanousei wa afureta (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(The possibility is always there [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])

Mr. Teacher 見ていて 迷い多き僕ら
Mr. Teacher miteite mayoi ooki bokura
(Mr. Teacher, please look at us, though we are hesitant)
誰よりも貴方の為に 猛勉強中さ
Dare yori mo anata no tameni mou benkyouchu sa
(For your sake, we’re studying a lot harder than for anyone else!)
殺意だけが (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Satsui dake ga (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(It’s only bloodlust [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])
貴方へのメッセージ (起立! 礼! ロックオン!)
Anata e no message (Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!)
(That can be a message for you [Arise! Bow! Lock on!])

Tariki (ate ni) hongan (suru no) yame masu
(There will be [no more] outside [reliance] from any of us)
Jiriki (gachide) hongan (ikuyo) revolution
(We’ll win [and fulfill] with our strength [this desire] this revolution!)

起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)
起立! 礼! ロックオン!
Kiritsu! Rei! Lock on!
(Arise! Bow! Lock on!)

Oh - yeah -

Oh - yeah -

先生 - ターゲットオン!
Sensei - target on!
(Teacher - target on!)

Keep reading

Just the Way You Are

Dean x Reader

Summary: You, your boyfriend, Dean, and Sam work a case at a strip club, and you can’t help but feel insecure at your small, short stature.

Warnings: Mentions of insecurity, strip clubs, and sexual content (not all the way, though, folks.)

Requested by me~

A/N: As a 4′11″ girl, I thought this would be cool to write. I don’t see a lot of fics dealing with short, small girls, so I thought I’d write this. Enjoy!

Originally posted by carryoutmywaywardson

“Hey sweetheart”, Dean mumbles sleepily as he reaches over you to get a mug for coffee. You two had been especially…ehm…busy last night, but you woke up bright and early with Sam to locate the werewolf in the area.

You continue to wash the dishes from last night as Dean finishes his coffee. Soon, a familiar weight on your head makes itself notable, growling when you notice Dean’s using you for an armrest, again. Sure, you were a hell of a lot shorter than your boyfriend, but you still hated being treated as such.

“Dammit, Dean, knock it off”, you grumble, roughly pushing his arm off of your head. His face breaks into a grin when he notices your pouty expression. “You’re so adorable”, he chuckles out, lightly patting your head. 

“So get this”, Sam clears his throat as he senses the tension in the air, turning his laptop around for you two to see the screen. “Turns out our guy’s been hanging out at strip clubs.”

You swear you see Dean gulp, and you roll your eyes. “Whatever. Let’s go tonight to see if he shows”, you suggest, drying off the last dish.

Both boys agree to go (almost too excitedly…), and you begrudgingly decide to tag along in case he did show. 

Night soon falls, and sooner than you’d like, all three of you are sitting in the Impala in front of the club. Smoothing out the shirt of your fed uniform, you unwillingly get out of the car.

Once you enter the club, the smell of sweat and cheap perfume fills your senses, causing you to cough. You’ve never been to something like this, and you immediately disliked it, especially since your boyfriend was alongside you.

Sam splits immediately, for he promised you he’d interview the sleasy men so you didn’t have to. You and Dean were to interview the staff.

As the night passes, you notice Dean’s eyes briefly run over the long legs of the dancers. Unconsciously, you look down at your own, and frown when you notice how much shorter they were than the other women. His eyes also roam over their supple breasts, which you did not have as well.

Your brain formulates negative thoughts as you look in envy of the curvier, tall women.

The case ends soon, Sam quickly finding and killing the werewolf in an ally. None of you sustained injuries. But, the self-conscious thoughts about your body still swarmed your head, but you chose not to show it.

You soon pulled up to the bunker, and you all went your separate ways. Sam went off to his room, and Dean decided to shower.

As you drop your stuff off on your shared bed with Dean, you can’t help but glance at yourself in the mirror. Your thighs are muscular, but not large enough. Your breasts don’t bulge out, and your butt isn’t “bootylicious”, in your opinion. 

You don’t hear the water shut off, and you definitely don’t hear emerging footsteps. You gasp as warm, strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back into an equally as strong chest.

You sigh in relief once you realize who it is, and lean back into his arms. “What are you looking at, babe?” he asks, bending over to place his chin on your shoulder, eyes meeting yours in the refection of the mirror.

“Nothing”, you lie, refusing to meet his gaze again. You suddenly feel inadequate for him, his earlier words rest in your head.

I’m only ‘cute’ to him. You think bitterly, feeling ashamed.

The feeling overwhelms you, and you decide to put it out there. “Do you think I’m sexy?”

You close your eyes in fear of his response. Moments of agonizing silence pass, and you want to run and cry.

Though, you didn’t expect to feel warm lips on the junction between your neck and shoulder, soft stubble grazing the skin. Your eyes fly open, and you can’t help but moan at the sight. 

Dean’s arms are securely wrapped around you, light moving in circle on your hips. His lips roam your exposed neck, leaving dark marks in its wake.

You watch as his lips move up, stopping to suck on your earlobe before speaking. “You.” He places a kiss on your jaw. “Are.” His hands explore your body. “So.” He moves himself closer to you, and you swear you feel his excitement. “Sexy.” He quickly spins you around and crashes his lips on yours.

You hesitantly break the kiss, a little breathlessly. Dean eyes you with confusion before you voice your concerns.

“But, I’m so small, and I don’t have curves-”

“Don’t say that”, he interrupts gently, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t need to have curves to be sexy. You’re stunning, just the way you are.” His words are laced with love and sincerity, and you can’t help but smile. “And besides-”

Suddenly, the height difference doesn’t matter anymore as he lifts you in his arms, your feet wrapping securely around his waist. You giggle, and he laughs along with you. You mold your lips to his once more, and he gladly returns the favor. Soon, you find yourself on the bed with your lover, all remnants of insecurity washed away for good.

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