#lucy writes

[yourfavnerd1412]

it makes no sense 'cause we're fighting over what we do...

(part two of 'friends don't look at friends that way')

★ pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

★ word count: 600 (on the dot)

★ warnings/tags: arguing, canon-typical language, aggression, anger, yelling, defensiveness, dean being a bit of a hypocrite, hunt (almost) gone wrong, reckless choices, regret, low-key rage-baiting.

★ author's notes: holy wow, this was more fun to write than I thought it'd be. enjoy some angry dean. please please please leave me a comment if you have any thoughts.

© yourfavnerd1412- 2026

series masterlist │ general masterlist

Dean hasn’t yelled at you like this before.

Ever.

For the first time, he’s truly tearing into you.

And it feels like he’s ripping your heart out.

He’d started as soon as you three had gotten back to the bunker and Sam disappeared into his room, sensing a building explosion.

It started slow, a low, dangerously quiet tone and fists clenched at his sides.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You’d known it was reckless the moment you burst into the vampire-infested barn alone, armed with only a machete. But there were hostages, tied-up townies being slowly drained of their blood, so far along that they looked to have already had one foot in the grave. And Sam and Dean had been nowhere in sight, God-knows-where on the hundred-something acre farm property.

With a sigh full of regret, you set your duffel bag down on the map table as Dean stood planted in place, the strap of his still hanging over his shoulder.

“I know it was stupid,” you start, tone cautious like you’re trying to diffuse a bomb. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

He scoffs derisively, letting his duffel fall to the concrete floor with a ‘thud’ that makes you flinch.

“‘Didn’t know what else to do,’” he repeats slowly, incredulously, mockingly.

His tone is biting in a way you’re not used to from him, and it makes you feel both pathetic and defensive. Wounded.

“You could’ve -oh, I dunno-” he says sarcastically, eyes narrowed, “picked up your damn phone and called one of us!” 

You grit your teeth, throwing your hands up incredulously. “And led them straight to me?!”

He runs a hand over his face with frustration, barely biting back a dramatic groan. “You could’ve hid! It would’ve been better than just stickin’ your neck out like that!”

You roll your eyes, huffing out a harsh laugh that holds no actual humor, just irony and disbelief. “Oh, I’m not getting this lecture from you, of all people. You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Dean’s nostrils flare, the fire behind his eyes fed by your little jab and his jaw clenched. “I’m not even gonna touch that one. For your sake.”

You scoff incredulously. “Oh, my sake,” you say sarcastically. “Right.”

He simply rolls his eyes at that, crossing his arms over his broad chest, which, admittedly, makes him look better than anyone has a right to in an argument. “You could’ve been killed, dumbass. Or converted.”

You shake your head, unimpressed. “But I wasn’t. Don’t get your panties in a twist over it.”

“This time!” he practically roared, and everything around you went eerily still, quiet and afraid in his wake. “You made it out this time because me and Sammy saved your ass! If we hadn’t heard all the racket they made, you’d‘a ended up just like those villagers!”

You tip your head back to glare at the ceiling like you’re demanding it to give you patience.

It doesn’t.

“Villagers that were already half-dead when I got to ‘em! There was no time to go off chasin’ you two down! I had to do somethin’, Dean!”

Dean huffs and tosses back some witty little comeback and you could swear you heard the words ‘somethin’ that ain’t stupid’, but it barely registers. You’re just staring blankly at him because you’ve finally realized exactly how ridiculous it is that this man, the very one that’s in the midst of chewing you out for something he does all the time, is the same man that has you desperate for his approval and attention.

It makes exactly zero sense.

@fanfic-idjit @lun4rm00nzz @kissesfrommercuryyy

[hexensalbei]

friends we make along the way

find on ao3

“I’m considering early retirement,” announces Hayden the moment Marleau picks up his phone.

“Yeah, Cens literally obliterated you," he admits. He watched the game, of course, so he understands how Pike must feel. The game was difficult, brutal; Ottawa team was relentless and their two star centers were vicious in their efforts. Metros were, to put it lightly, helpless and lost. It ended 0-9 for the Centaurs. “It’s not like you guys didn’t deserve it.” He adds, his words harsh but his tone without any vitriol.

“I know,” Pike sighs, “but it still stings. It was so bad, I even got an apology from Roz. Well, his own form of apology.”

“Classic Roz,” Cliff muses. It doesn’t escape his attention that Hayden used the same nickname he uses when speaking about Rozanov. And he canʼt resist teasing his friend a little. “So... Since when he’s Roz to you?”

Hayden scoffs loudly and Cliff’s mouth splits into a grin.

“Fuck you. I am out there, suffering, hoping that you could understand my pain and you only focus on this.”

“Well, I’ve never heard you using this nickname before. You gotta admit that anything that comes out of your mouth that’s not fucking Rozanov is a bit odd.”

“Come on, this man is basically like my brother in law. He’s my kids’ favorite uncle, he has personal items in my house in case they visit us. I’ve literally caught him multiple times giving Shane blowjobs or vice versa, I think we’re way past Rozanov at this point,” Hayden admits, not without a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“Awwww,” Cliffs coos, “Roz will be thrilled to hear that he’s family to you.”

He hears Hayden cursing, not too subtly.

”Don’t you dare telling him that. I will beat you with a stick next time we’re in Boston,” Hayden threatens and it draws another laugh from Marleau. It’s really endearing and entertaining to see those two men still refusing to admit that they’ve grown fond of each other after all these years. Cliff, on the other hand, had no issue admitting that Hayden Pike has become his friend, his co-patriot in suffering by the hand of Hollander-Rozanov union. He genuinely likes the guy and is thankful that he is not the only one who is traumatized by witnessing first husbands of hockey in a different states of undress.

Now it seems like they will add experiencing Hollander-Rozanov playing together and absolutely smashing the shit out of their ex teams to their PTSD memories.

“On a serious note, though, I am really sorry you and JJ had to endure it. It always sucks when you lose a game but sucks even more if you lose that badly and against your friends.” Cliffs says after a moment of silence. “Not gonna lie, I am scared shitless to face them now when they play together.”

Hayden chuckles.

“Yeah, it was a nightmare to face them separately but facing both of them? You’ll wish you were never born. Or you will want to retire like me only to not have to play against them ever again.”

“Safe to assume that the Cens will win the cup this year, huh?”

“With those two demons on the rink? That’s a really safe bet. They deserve it, though.”

Cliffs hums in agreement, nodding his head even though Hayden can’t see it. He suddenly realizes that the background noise stopped some time ago and he hears his friend’s voice more clearly.

”Wait, Pike, are you at home already?”

”Yeah, a while ago. I mean I arrived a while ago but didn’t go home yet. How did you know I was driving?”

Cliff rolls his eyes.

“We talk on the phone like constantly. I’ve heard you driving like thousands times already. I am surprised you feel surprised by this. Anyway, you must be fucking exhausted. Go home and rest.”

“You are absolutely right, ’m little tired,” admits Hayden and resist an urge to yawn.

“I bet. Say hi to Jackie and the kids when you’re home. Hear you tomorrow after I beat Hunter’s ass?”

“Are you sure you can do that without Roz?” Pike chirps and if they were on FaceTime, Cliff would absolutely flip him off.

“Have a nice dreams about your ass getting kicked by the husbands!” He fires back.

The last thing he hears before Hayden hangs up is “fuck you, Marly” and that makes him grin even more.

[jstorgirrl]

a study in henry winter — henry winter x reader smut

At Francis’ country house, you and Henry get a moment to yourselves.

Tags: 18+ only minors DNI, NSFW, praise kink, slight degradation kink, very very dirty talk, all sorts of positions, taking nudes, P in V penetration

Henry Winter did not appreciate swearing. He found it undignified. However, when he slept with me, filthy words left his mouth faster than I could keep track of.

Greedy whore. Cum-loving slut. And alternatively, fucking angel.

That day at Francis’ house, we had snuck into the master bedroom, because in Henry’s opinion, “the lighting was better.” I was wearing a silk blouse that I had unbuttoned perhaps a little too low, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.

“Look at your tits,” he exhaled. “How am I supposed to go on?” Henry was often stoic and stern, but l was his Platonic Ideal. He worshipped me the way he worshipped Homer.

He threw me on that plush, velvet bed. Everything was lazy and slow in those days, before. He left kisses up and down my neck, and struggled at unbuttoning my blouse. I had a white lace bra on. He loved it when I wore white. When he saw the bra he rolled his eyes and flopped on the bed.

“You’re killing me, darling.” I laughed, climbed on top of him, and shrugged off my blouse. The way he looked up at me was as if he revered me. I started rolling my hips, the wool of his slacks rubbing against the twill of my skirt.

“No, no, no,” he shook his head. “Gyration is no fun clothed.”

I giggled. “Gyration?”

“You know what I mean.”

From his position lying on the bed, he unbuttoned his pants as I slipped off my skirt. “Pretty girl,” he cooed. I repositioned my hips on his, and began to move in a figure eight motion.

Henry let out a low whistle. “That’s my little slut,” he said. “Desperate to feel my cock rub against her pussy.” His words hit me at my core, and I slowly leaned down so my tits hung over his face. He brushed the lace of my bra aside and took my nipple in his mouth. I moaned, loudly. “Hush, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Francis will hear and we won’t hear the end of it for days.” He released my breast from his mouth and turned me over to lie on my back. He hung above me, and I could see the outline of his cock through his underwear.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “but we have to get you wet first, don’t we?” He slipped my underwear off of my figure and rubbed his delicate finger against my clit. “You like that, don’t you? My little whore. My sweet little whore.” I moaned, signaling my desire for more. Understanding what I wanted, he shoved a finger inside me.

“Oh, look at that. My little slut is dripping wet.” He curled his finger harshly. “Yeah, you like that?” He pumped his fingers in and out of me faster and faster. I bucked my hips into his hand. “You know it drives me crazy when you do that. Makes me want to fuck you even harder than I’d planned.”

I felt my orgasm approaching, and I alerted Henry by squeezing his hand. “Oh, you’re going to come? You’re going to come, my beautiful, beautiful slut?”

I nodded and screamed. He put a hand over my mouth, stifling my breath. The orgasm came in waves, rippling over my body like the ocean. Henry always likened coming to the sea, saying the feeling of ecstasy makes us, for just a moment, return to the water from which we came. The wideness and vast beauty of the ocean.

Henry took off his boxers and his cock sprung free. I leaned down to take it in my mouth, but he pushed my head away. “As much as I would like to see you on your knees like the little cock-whore you are, I am much too impatient.” He positioned himself on top of me and slammed into me. He wasted no time going slow or easing me into it; that wasn’t Henry’s way. He threw his head back. “You feel so good. So fucking good, darling.”

He fucked me at a feverish pace, and soon he was pulling my ankle to his shoulder. I moaned and whimpered; he would never admit it, but he loved the sounds I made.

“You,” he said, kissing me deeply, “were sent from heaven to squeeze my cock with your wet little cunt.”

“Yes, yes,” I breathed. I threw my hips into his, savoring every inch of his cock and loving the way he fucked me just the way I like. He began to roll his hips methodically, knowing it would make me arch my back and moan like no one else was in the house.

“Quiet, little bird,” he whispered. “Don’t want everyone to know how good I’m fucking you.”

“Maybe you do,” I teased. “Maybe you want everyone to know what a fucking god you are in bed.”

“True, but you probably don’t want everyone to know what a greedy cock-whore you are.”

He flipped me over and pulled me by my ankles to the edge of the bed and began to fuck me from behind. The new angle was heavenly, as I felt his cock deeper and deeper in me. He grabbed my hair and shoved my head into the plush sheets. It was downright pornographic. He spanked me—hard, which I pretended to hate but secretly loved.

“Look at you, bent over for me. Dripping pussy, ready to take my cock. You’re perfect, my lovely girl.”

The moment of sweetness was unexpected, and made me feel even more intimate with him. I felt my second orgasm approaching, and I began to warn him, but he just said: “I know, sweetheart. I know. Let it out.”

I couldn’t help it; I screamed. Henry stuck two fingers in my mouth to shut me up, and put his other hand around my neck while I rode out my undoing on his cock. It was a long orgasm, no doubt to Henry’s delight.

“Yes, darling,” he whispered in my ear. “Keep coming on my cock. That’s it. I make you feel good, don’t I?”

I nodded desperately as my orgasm faded away. Henry’s pace grew faster, but then he stopped suddenly. He withdrew from me, and turned me over.

“You’re going to ride me while I come, got it?”

I nodded and got on top of him. The angle was an adjustment, and it hurt at first, but I had a perverse desire to impress him, to make him proud, even, so I started bobbing up and down. He grabbed at my tits like a cat batting at a toy.

“You look so beautiful up there,” he said. I blushed at the compliment. He started jutting his hips into mine, and I could tell he was getting close. “You ready to feel my cum drip out of you? Yeah, you fucking cum slut.”

Henry rolled his eyes back, muttered something in Latin, held my hips down and fucked me ruthlessly as he came. He groaned, lifted me off of him, and ran to get something from the dresser.

I lied on the bed, legs open, and looked quizzically at him. “What are you doing?”

He held an object in his hands: a Polaroid camera. He held the camera between my calves, angled at the cum that was surely spilling out of my pussy. “Want to remember that sight forever,” he said.

Then, he lied behind me, draped his arms around me, and we waited for the film to develop.

[goosetheluce]

you're my home (lucy gray baird x fem!reader)

info: cussing, ever so slight angst, mutual pining, confession, reader is running from district twelve with lucy gray

a/n: it's not weird to have a crush on someone with the first name as you !! taylor swift and taylor lautner did it leave me alone

»--•--«

you stirred from your rest at the bright sunbeams pouring through the trees. and maybe also lucy gray's insistent tugging and repetition of your name.

"holy shit," she grumbles, clearly dismayed. "wake up! we're almost there. gotta get moving."

" 'm up. lord."

you heaved a sigh and arched your back, a tight line of pops rushing down your spine. you took a deep inhale, eyes shutting again as you ran a hand along your fucked up, greasy hair.

traveling on foot for a week isn't the most flattering look.

when you peeled your eyes open, you were met with lucy gray's judging stare beating down on you. considering the way the corners of her lips twitched, though, you knew she couldn't stay annoyed at your heavy sleeping for too long.

"gimme a break, lucy gray. i'm not used to this," you rasped. you rolled out of your tent and lay dramatically on the forest floor. what's a little more dirt, anyway?

she scoffed and her radiance peeked through her exasperated face. the wide smile woke you up a little more.

"should've hung out with the covey more while we were still around the district," she scolds, grabbing your soft hands and wrapping them in hers to pull you to your feet. "might've taught you how to not be a baby."

"maybe. but i ran away with you, didn't i?" you retorted. "i think that makes me pretty grown."

lucy gray's playful smile faded into a more serene one. she simply gave a nod and stepped away, picking up her backpack.

"look what i found while you were asleep," she murmured. she pulled out eggs (poor mother bird), and a bundle of herbs for tea later. your mouth watered.

"no salt and pepper?" you teased, taking an egg and inspecting it. it was heavy. you were hit with homesickness as you remembered your kitchen, which sometimes struggled to stay stocked, but at least you had the chance for butter.

you both decided on soft-boiling the eggs in the tiny pot you begged lucy gray to pack before you ventured off. you sat and ate, peeling away the crackling shell and talking about the journey and whatever else before packing up and hiking through another day.

things were natural with her. hell, everything about her was natural. her beauty was untouched by the standards of the capitol and instead flourished freely. it was evident in the lively bounce of her dark waves and her sunkissed olive skin. you wondered when the last time was you looked in the mirror without picking everything apart, envying lucy gray's outward confidence.

"i still can't believe we're doing this," you spoke up, the silence becoming insufferable.

lucy gray turns her head to meet your eyes, her expression neutral. sweat pooled on her hairline and dripped down her temples. you knew if you reached out to touch her, her skin would be blazing with the power of the sun. good thing she doesn't burn.

"like, running away and all that. i thought i'd rot away in twelve for the rest of my life."

till i met you, you added on silently.

lucy gray laughed.

"a woman like you? naw, i had to steal you away. couldn't let such a beauty go to work in those damned mines."

"you really think i'm that much of a priss?" you sighed, batting your eyelashes at her sarcastically.

"oh, honey, i never said that. sometimes a girl just wants a treat for herself. so i got my treat."

you blamed the high noon for your feverish cheeks.

the minutes turned into hours, and the shadows stretched across the grass. laughter rang across the fields.

"your first kiss was billy taupe? he's so fucking boring, i'm sorry," you cackled, eyes shut tight from hysteria. "sadly for the rest of us, though...next to you, anyone is boring."

"what? first kisses aren't exactly known to be glamorous," lucy gray defended. "besides, i got the real deal after him."

"oh?" you perked up, voice stabilizing. "this mystery guy must be the reason your head was in the clouds...at least, according to maude."

suddenly, the happiness drained from her face. "for a while, i guess. wasn't worth it." you averted your eyes to the front of the scenery. your grip tightened around the straps of your backpack.

"you deserve better. you'll find someone. a hot guy from district four, maybe," you teased, nudging her arm with your elbow.

like me.

"oh, perfect, a fisher! don't even need to buy cologne for his birthday; it'd be useless against that rank," she remarks sourly.

you giggled as her teasing gaze met yours. your grin was mirrored, and you memorized the crevices of her smile lines. her eyes fluttered down to your lips for a brief moment before she cleared her throat and unraveled her map.

you let out a deep breath and looked around. you remembered when you first met lucy gray, frozen and terrified to see somebody else outside the limits of twelve. she eyed you warily from the lake, her lips parted and brow furrowed.

you realized you should probably say something to the girl in the lake, but you didn't know what. she waded toward you and began a less-than-friendly warning before you interrupted her.

"we don't have food. i'm just out here to gather some things."

the girl's voice halted and her shoulders reluctantly dropped from their defensive position.

"thank god."

"what are you doing in there? aren't you gonna get caught?" you inquired nervously, eyes flitting everywhere. the girl laughed brightly.

"those joke 'peacekeepers' don't care about anything that goes on past the fences. not even a covey girl swimming. scandalous, i know."

you stared as the sun washed over her soaked hair.

"lucy gray baird," she offered up her name. "but you can call me lucy gray. that's what all my friends call me."

"i'm..." you started, walking to the edge of the dock to meet her at the water.

she muttered something quietly, bringing you back to the present.

"what's that?"

"ah, just that we should stop here for the night. it's not a good idea to go through the forest in the dark. so easy to get lost," lucy gray corrects herself. you nodded and looked around for a spot.

"there looks good," you suggested, pointing to a spot under a lone cluster of trees. lucy gray hums in agreement before starting towards the spot, taking your hand in hers. your heart skipped.

the sky wept deep indigo, bleeding down into the horizon as the sun sank. insects chirped and buzzed, their calls flowing through the tree leaves and across the grassy plains. the fire was warm; the smell of roasted game and pungent tea carried away in the wind. lucy gray's wavy voice split the thick summer air pleasantly. your eyes stayed fixed on her. her dainty fingers held her tea. a sly smile painted her face.

"you stare a lot," she remarked. "you know that, right?"

your eyebrows raised a bit. you kept looking, wondering how she'd noticed and still hadn't even looked up to meet your gaze. until she did.

god, you loved the way her eyes looked like a cup of black coffee. the way your grandma used to make it. or maybe the tree bark you peeled away from a rotting trunk as a kid. the soil embedded between your fingers after a long day of work.

"i do know that," you responded a second too late. awkward delivery. you swallowed and looked into the towering coniferous forest. shadows crept from beneath the canopy and raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

"we should probably wrap it up soon," you insisted. "put out the fire, get to bed, all that." you picked at a scab till it flaked off.

lucy gray scoffed, setting her tea beside your backpacks.

"the sun is barely gone. just 'cause the birds are sleepin' don't mean we are."

you said nothing in return, still wary of the woods nearby. your fingers pressed firmly into the skin of your arms, which were rested on your knees. you sighed and put your head down.

you felt lucy gray's gaze burning into you. you felt the former scab swelling and the droplet of blood spilling down your arm.

"you messed with it too much. might get infected if we don't clean it," she asserted. you smiled with your head on your knees. lucy gray was making an excuse to touch you. you wondered silently if she felt the same intense heartrate, the same jolt of electricity every time your arms brushed as you hiked through the countryside.

away from all the rules.

you lifted your head and saw lucy gray hurrying back with a damp towel and honey. your brow furrowed.

"what's that for?"

she chuckled as she kneeled down to wipe away the blood and dirt with the towel.

"it'll keep that cut clean. antibacterial properties an' all. trust me."

your breath hitched as the towel made contact with your cut. the gentle sting of raw honey being spread across the wound is what snapped your drooping eyelids back open.

definitely not lucy gray's lips so close to you.

"...hey," she whispered.

"hi?" you responded, smiling a bit.

"it's alright if you're homesick. you can talk to me about it, if you'd like."

you breathed out a long sigh and pressed your forehead to hers. she hesitated before bringing her left hand to rest on the side of your face.

"lucy gray," you began, but struggled to finish. you pulled back slightly to make eye contact.

"i'm not that homesick. i have you," you whispered softly.

"you're my home."

you were met with a tense silence. you wanted to turn and run, because how could you be so stupid to tell her that, and you ruined the moment, and-

suddenly her lips are pressing gently into yours. your eyes widened. the taste of the tea she was drinking lingered on your tongue as she shuffled back.

"fuck! fuck, i'm sorry, i wasn't thinkin'," she apologized, voice shaking as she stared at you. she fiddled with her hands anxiously. you'd never seen her so flustered.

all you did was make your way back to her, cupping her face in a heavy kiss. you smiled against her, feeling her body relax into yours. her hands rested on top of yours before sliding comfortably onto your waist. she pulled back, jet black eyes bright with starlight and exhilaration.

"coming with you, getting away from twelve...it's been the best decision i ever made," you confessed, dropping your hands from her face and instead rubbing her arms. "i've wanted nothing except you for like, a year now."

"we've known each other for almost three years. i'm wounded," lucy gray teased, her fingers unsuccessfully smoothing the top layer of your hair.

"well, was i better than billy taupe?"

"quiet, you."

»--•--«

[barkovsasha]

His hand had fallen to Dmitry’s thigh like it belonged there, pulled to that very spot by an invisible force. Stronger men had failed this very test in the past. Sergei himself had failed this exact test last year, too.

[funeral-pyree]

lover girl! ellie and her partner with long nails

mostly sfw but includes suggestive content - MDNI 18+

♱ she would absolutely ask you to wash her hair because she likes the way your nails scratch her scalp, and would hum contentedly while you shampoo her short auburn locs

♱ on days when you’re at work and she’s at home, she would attempt to replicate the feeling of you playing with her hair and scratching her head, eventually huffing and giving up because it doesn’t feel as good as when you do it

when you get home, she would do what i did when i was a kid and subtly (or at least she thinks so) ask you to get knots out of her hair because she “couldn’t reach properly”. you’d oblige, knowing full well she just wants you to run your nails through her hair but is too afraid to admit that’s what she wants

♱ would one day ask to come with you to get your nails done while out running errands together

definitely would ask what it feels like having fake nails on top of your real ones, so you’d suggest she should get hers done too

she’d panic thinking she had to get long nails like you and despises the idea of them, making comments about how she needed to keep them short for guitar and “other stuff” wink wonk. you’d lightly kick her in the legs for insinuating what she was in front of the nail tech, quickly muttering an apology, but still adorning a small smirk

eventually, she would opt for getting the shortest nails they’d offer her, ones that were barely longer than her natural nails, and would get black polish with little bits of glitter that sparkle in the right light. most definitely would show them off to her friends later, excitedly pointing out the little specks of glitter and saying you helped her pick it out.

she would, however, quickly get sick of the feeling of the acrylic on top of her nails, trying to pick them off after a few days, to which you’d scold her and tell her she was going to ruin her natural nails. she would whine at that saying “but babe!!” dragging out the ‘a’ sound, “they feel fuckin’ weird and i can’t pick shit up as easily.” pouting slightly before continuing with pleas of “just let me take them off.” you’d go back to the nail salon the next day and get the set removed. she would get them to repaint her nails with the same black polish again though because she liked how it looked, even on her natural nails

♱ would one day ask how people with nails could still fuck with “long ass talons” and you’d have to explain that some people get a couple nails cut shorter so they don’t hurt their partners. she would definitely think it looked goofy until you showed up at home one day with a new set, quickly noting how your middle and ring finger nails were cut considerable shorter. let’s just say she begged you to get them done like that from then on

♱ i could also see her scrolling through tiktok one morning and coming across a video of a guy learning how to do his girlfriend’s nails and thinking she should try it out. excitedly brings up the idea over breakfast, and once you agree, drags you out of the apartment to go get the necessary supplies. would actually love the process and think it was a fun bonding experience for you two.

she would get quite good at it over time and definitely put her steady hands and artistic abilities to use to create the cute sets you show her on your pinterest board. once she sees how much you like her work, she would get a tad cocky, stating that you didn’t need to go back to your usual tech anymore now that she’s “become a pro”. you’re more than happy to let her do them from now on though, enjoying how tender and careful she is when dealing with your nails.

i can see her drawing up her own designs that she wants to try out for your next set one night, giddily showing you her creations the next morning and begging you to let her do some of them, to which you obviously agree because who could say no to those puppy eyes she gives you when she’s excited

♱ she would LOVE moments when you’re snuggled up together in bed, all cozy and watching a movie (or barely in her case). she would be positioned between your legs, using your belly as a pillow and fighting sleep as you slowly drag your fingers through her hair. most definitely would end up snoring quietly on your stomach as you too, lose your battle to sleep as the credits roll and the last of the candle on your bedside table burns down to the wick

♱ in conclusion, she’s a big fan of your nails

AN: special thanks to @sapphic-gardn for reading over this for me!! this is my first time writing since i was like 14 so please be nice

[halcyonnhood]

I keep rewriting my poly!cake fic... But this version seems to be my favorite thus far. we'll see 😭

[virgyvandijk]

want you to be (the heavens above me)

1/2

“I –– I should go,” he manages to choke out, not looking at Phoebe’s glittery bubble bath. “I’ve kept you long enough.” “What?” Roy asks. He looks confused in a way Jamie’s never seen him before. “I’m intruding,” Jamie says gently, the same tone that he used to use to explain to his cousins why his dad was passed out snoring in the corner before Christmas dinner had even been served. “No you’re fucking not,” Roy says instantly, circling his fingers around Jamie’s wrist so hard it hurts. “How can you be fucking intruding? I fucking invited you.” Jamie’s head swims with all the f-bombs in that sentence. You’d think he’d be used to it by now. or, roy looks after jamie after man city.