#I AM SO FUCKING MAD ABOUT THIS SO YOU'D BETTER FUCKING DO IT

[angelsdvsts]

maybe it was the fact that she grew up with him, the way she could read him better than most -- how she's able to see the different sides to him. it was like she seen it all, his niceness -- the anger, jealousy. "mm, yeah -- like ten percent. i like that we've know each other since forever, i don't think you'd be this open to me if i entered your life in high school. . . maybe, i would've ended up being one of your flings that you forgotten about. or rather can't forget about since we'd run into one another at the store," she playfully jokes with him. "would you still be grounding if she knew you snuck out to see me?" doubtful that she'd be mad about that, but they were both dumb teenagers -- she wasn't going to risk it, didn't want him to get in trouble nor make his parents hate her for asking him to sneak out for her. "and god am i one lucky bitch to have her be so in love with me," she giggles happily, really everything was falling into place and lacey couldn't wait to see his mother's reaction when they walk through the doors. "don't act like you haven't thought about it before, especially more recently now that we've been fucking all over your place," nothing will feel better than having her legs tremble as she tries to not make any noise. "i can't believe that you're going to make me suffer, baby. . . but you know i'll do my very best for you," her voice was going to rasp as her mind tries to cling onto the memories when it's chasing the high of his cock being buried deep inside her. "mm," she nods her head, eyes filled with lust as he released his load down her throat. taste of him has her craving for more, had her feeling wet wishing he could pound into her right then and there. the way he captures the drool and cum bringing it towards his lips to suck it off made her mind go absolutely wild. "you make me a desperate girl who just can't help myself.. and i'm trying to be really good and not have you fuck me right now. . ." dragging his other hand down between her legs, running his digits along her wet folds.

he was never quick to expose vulnerabilities to other people, especially people he worked with and dealt to --- holden considers himself an expert at distancing himself, mentally removing himself from situations and giving as little of who he was as possible. but lacey had grown up with him, she knew parts of him that nobody ever got to glimpse, parts that people might not even believe exist. "so you're saying i keep you guessing like . . . ten percent of the time? i mean, we have known each other since forever so i think i can live with that." not having to hide himself was refreshing, it was comforting. "you're lucky those windows were new at the time, if she'd heard a single creak i would have been grounded for weeks." not that it would have stopped holden from actually leaving the house, but he would have had to make it seem as if he was a prisoner. "that's not something i've ever thought about because she loves you, there's no fucking way she'd ever dislike you." which meant the only thing he had to worry about during family dinners was finding a decent excuse to get a few minutes alone with her. "damn baby, you really want me to ruin you in that bedroom, don't you?" and maybe it was twisted but he'd do it, tug his girl face first on to his childhood bed and make her stifle those moans with the teddies he had won during their many carnival trips. "but i'll still make you tell me those stories, lace. so you should probably mentally prepare yourself for speaking with a cunt full of my cock." the sight of her devouring his cock was enough to make his balls tighten, grunting as he pushes his hips up against her pretty face. "please what, princess? please cum in your mouth and down your throat? make you choke on it like the nasty slut you are?" releasing his load inside of her was the best form of stress relief, an instant loosening of his muscles as spurts of ropey cum coat her tongue. "fuck . . . " inhaling deeply holden rests his head against the seat as she works on cleaning him up, replaying the entire scene in his mind. "hm?" glancing toward her the homme chuckles, thumb reaching out to drag beneath her lips, catching that drool and cum. "they'd think you were a filthy girl", letting go of her face holden brings that slick thumb to his mouth, "a desperate slut who just can't control herself." sucking her spit and his cum off his digit holden grins.

[a1ecmcdowell]

dean winchester x angel!reader — it's okay, it's okay.

or, dean breaks everything he touches, including himself. or, the first time dove has to use her grace.

cw, angst, injured!dean, he walks you through it kind of, dean whimpers but at what cost

word count: 2k

notes, this doesn't count toward my vote. if dean x angel wins u WILL get another i am loyal to my word!! i just got this idea n needed to get it out before i forget < 3 sorry ahead of time if it is 1) sad or 2) sucks it's late ok </3

★ ˚⋆

everyone always says the same thing when the worst comes true, but it reigns true every time - this was never meant to happen.

sure, dean could have been more careful. sure, he could have spent more time worrying about his mortal, breakable body, and not the ageless angel who'd attached to his hip. he'd gotten... used to it, more than anything, because accepting it wasn't the right word.

no, he did not want you at his side at every turn. that gave him another body to fuss over, to make sure didn't get hurt, no matter the cost. even if it was irrational. but dammit, it was you.

you were resilient. he was certain you could take care of yourself, but he panicked when he saw the claw emerging from the pitch black, heading right for your direction. dean knew, logically, that you sensed it coming, that you could have protected yourself-

he took the swipe of gashes to the shoulder anyways. a long swipe. shoulder to sternum - couldn't feel it through the daze of adrenaline, but he could feel the blood. so much blood, and so close to his heart-

"dean!"

your voice pulses in his ears like its own heartbeat. is he losing consciousness? fuck.

your footsteps pound on the dusty dirt trail in the forest, running up to where he was slumped against the nearest tree. dean coughed, blood staining his bottom lip, metal and copper clashing violently on his tongue.

"hi, dove," he whispers, trying to breath life back into his voice, falling just short. "little worse for wear, aren't i?"

"now is not the time for jokes." you kneel next to him, your eyes flitting quickly over his body until they land on the wet crimson slashes across his chest. "you bleed."

his lips quirk, even as the adrenaline is wearing and he's starting to feel the stark pain of the extent of his injuries, because he can't help it. "i do bleed," he says, wincing as the huff of laughter falls out of his mouth rips at his already ripped skin. "s'what happens when you get hurt."

"why did you get hurt?" you demand, fierce and defiant even when he's facing death. good god, he adored you. "i will live. i heal. you..."

dean knew. he knew this. how did he explain this to you, when you didn't even understand what his feelings meant?

"i've heard i look pretty good covered in blood," he says instead. "that true?"

your nimble fingers clamp hard on dean's jaw, forcing him to turn and look at you. so much feist in one ageless body. "now. is not. the time."

"you're so pretty," he breathes, his eyes melting in and out of focus. "so damn pretty when you're mad at me."

your face contorts in a mix of confusion and outrage. this, he thought, is why he doesn't tell you the other things he's been dying for in his mind. as much as dean loves your furious pout, as much as he loves the way you take that damn lip between your teeth again as you think how to stop his dying, it's better to keep you at a distance.

"the bag," dean nods to the duffel he'd dropped in his haste, a couple of feet from you, "get the bag for me, sweet girl."

he can sense the why? on your lips, and smiles, just slightly, when it doesn't come. too detrimental of circumstances for you to question is every ask and call, it seems. how bittersweet it is to be a priority only when he's dying.

you clamber back over with the bag, all but dropping it on his knee in your hurry. dean didn't even tell you what to look for before you'd unzipped it and started digging. "there's bandage wrap in there, somewhere," he rasps out, nodding his head toward you, even though you're not looking at him, "need it. to stop the bleeding."

your hands are shaking. he has nothing else to look at but you - wouldn't look anywhere else regardless - but it's the first thing his eyes lock on. "hey," he says, a little more firmly, even as it makes him wince, "s'okay. it's okay."

"you are dying, and i am useless." you snatch up a small square of shiny wrapping, and he has an explanation for why, exactly, he carries condoms everywhere, but you don't even question it. he forgot that you were too focused on him to be your usual, curious self. "this? will it protect you?"

dean pauses. now is not the time, your words echo in his head, and still, he can't help it. "protects a part of me."

you scoff, and he's upset, for a second, that the joke goes over your head. another thing he should have taught you about. upset again when you the condom also goes over your head and into the dirt with your dismissive toss.

should have. how dramatic was that? already thinking in past tense, because the pain has ebbed again, and that's never good. he was relatively calm before when he could feel it, knowing that, at the very least, it meant he could feel, but-

your hands pluck out the little roll of bandage, shaking fingers tugging at the loose end and starting to unravel it. "yeah, you've got it. not useless, dove," he mumbles, shaking his head like he vehemently denies that bogus claim. "never useless."

"what do i do with it?"

dean lifts his shirt up and over again, wincing again with a deep rumbling whimper as he feels the tear again of his skin, his muscles. a wave of nausea renders him dizzy and speechless. his arms stay raised, his vision swimming.

your irritation is so evident on your face that he's certain, right then, he's never seen you so frustrated. dean wanted to ask why, especially after all of the times you've asked him that. he didn't understand your irritation with yourself. all he needed from you was to cover up the wounds so that you could heal him without risk of him bleeding out.

"you want picked up?" you ask, tilting your head in front of dean's to force his eyes to focus on you again. "now is not the time, again."

"no-" he says, lips twitching in the corners. at the very least, you were keeping him present and conscious, what with all of your adorable attitude. he licks his dry, cracked lips and tries to ignore the copper taste on his tongue. "take that end and wrap it around. like..."

dean doesn't know if you know what a vest is, or a sash, because you don't seem to know half as much as castiel does. maybe what cas meant when he brought you into the winchesters' lives was that your naivety ran so deep because you were a new angel, a fawn trying to catch its footing and stumbling along the way.

he watches as it clicks in your mind, what he means. you are so much smarter than he gives you credit for. he leans forward, mouth falling open in a shuddery, whimpering gasp. luckily, you don't stop what you're doing and ask if he's okay. your care, it seems, either doesn't extend that far, or extends farther due to the gravity of the situation.

you straddle him as you wrap the gauze around and around, and it's damn distracting, having you this close to him again. "do it until you don't see any more of the claw marks, yeah?"

your head moves in a nod but your eyes never once leave him, focused on the task at hand. winding and winding, the gauze tightening and tightening, until his chest feels stiff with it.

"s'good," he says, raising his hand to rest his fingers on your wrist. "great job, sweet girl. here-"

his fingers walk their way down your hand until he takes the roll of gauze between them, moving the strip to his teeth and tearing until it ripped free from the roll. "there we go."

again, you stare at him expectantly, only this time, he's staring right back at you with the same anticipation in his eyes. "go on, dove. do your divine thing."

a blink. a second blink. "i don't know how."

his heart, he thinks, falls down to his ass. bypasses the gaping wound in his sternum and drops.

"that would have been great to know before i took the fucking-" he can't even be mad at you. he's dizzy, starting to shiver, and yet the idea of hurting you made him feel worse than all of those things combined.

"i did not ask you to!" no, you didn't, but what was a man who was used to jumping in front of the bullets to do? "i did not ask, and you were not supposed to be stupid."

dean forces a strained smile. "sweetheart, s'kind of my thing."

you bend down, still straddling, close enough that your nose brushes his. fuck. he was going to die without knowing what it was like to close that gap. "not the time-"

"for jokes, yeah, i- i get that," he grumbles, throat thick, spluttering on a cough. blood splatters in a hapless pattern on his shirt, on yours. "think i'm- allowed t'joke when i'm dyin'."

"you are not." your eyes stay locked onto his. there's so much passion in them that they glimmer and glitter even now, in the dead of night. "not, to either of those things. i will..."

dean hates your expression. the defeated, helpless panic in it a stark contrast to your resilient eyes. he wants to comfort you. wants to smooth the pinched skin between your brows with his thumb, but everything's starting to feel a little heavy. "cas-" his head thumps back against the wall. "uses his hands. touch."

your expression softens. there it is again, that determined gleam overtaking every other emotion on your face. there's my girl, he thinks, even though it's a thought he's never allowed himself to think before, about you. his inhibitions are lessened now, though, and who is he to hide a thing from you?

slowly, your hands lift to his cheeks, cupping his face between your palms. your skin is so warm, and his is so cold, and he can't look away from your eyes. dean's never believed in someone as much as he does you, right now.

your eyes close, and he's still looking. his head leans forward and knocks against yours, like he can't get close enough. he'd do anything to know what your lips tasted like. if they were as sweet as you were, or as furious as you tended to get.

"it's not-" you growl, and he opens his mouth to say something to counteract the rush of heat your gravelly voice shoots through his icy veins, when- "fuck it."

two beats of shock wrack through him, and he has no time, not a split second at all, to prepare for the way your mouth crashes into his. his eyes blink wide in shock before a wave of warmth starts in his chest and spreads like roots through his blood and deep in his veins. he sees the blue-white flash of your grace as it spreads around the both of you.

you pull back so suddenly that your lips pop, staring at him expectantly. no, not dean, his red soaked bandages on the outside of his torn shirt. you give him no time to process it before you're clawing at it, tearing it down the center. "jesus, dove-" his eyes drop down to follow your gaze.

the only remnants of his injury were the dried streaks of blood running down his chest, pale red and shiny in the areas still drying in the cold night air.

you laugh, soft and hesitant, and it's the prettiest noise dean has ever heard. "if i'd known i just had t'almost die t'get you to kiss me," he says slowly, "i'd have done it a lot sooner."

even if it was hardly a kiss - more of a collision. he'd just have to teach you how he liked it, later.

tags,

@figthoughts, @jasvtsc, @titsout4nicholas, @deanswidow, @whyyouegg,

@bombarda-babe, @whisperingwillowxox, @underground-secret,

@bitchykittenconnoisseur, @jensenacklesantidote,

@keira-kaz2y5, @ostaramoon, @depressionbarbie2023, @ultravi0lence14, @loverslantern,

@bleuatlas, @minettacreekk, @sthefferrete

[ddejavvu]

I love your best friend with no boundaries James, and I was wondering if you could do one where James and reader are having their regularly scheduled mid-day naps, and Sirius and Remus walk into the dorm to find James just humping reader while they’re asleep? Maybe James and reader wake up to the GASP of horror from Sirius after his not so innocent eyes witness “straight up porn in their shared dorm where Peter of all people could witness”

I love all your works and was wondering if I could be marked as 😻anon? I’m the person who requested the bsf Steve imagine and I’m 100% gonna request something again because you’re perfect and I just wanna kiss you on the mouth🫶🏻🫶🏻

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Sirius considers himself James's best friend- no, brother, but he's not afraid to whack the man upside the head when he finds James grinding on you in his sleep.

"You-! Nasty-! Fucker-!" He bullies James awake, appreciating the much calmer, kinder way that Remus rouses you, tugging you away from James on the bed and murmuring that your nap is over. You blink your eyes open serenely, and James's shoot wide in pain as Sirius assaults him.

"What the fuck? Agh- Sirius! I know you're mad that I've got the better potions grade, but killing me won't help!"

"This isn't about potions, Potter," Sirius scoffs, "But I am thinking about tossing you in a hot cauldron. You were- eeugh, you were humping her, you animal!"

Your brows are furrowed and your blinks are bleary, but your brain catches up with the help of Remus's hands where they trace soothing circles on your back.

"Oh," You mumble groggily, as James groans with quickly reddening cheeks, "Uh- s'alright, Jamie."

Remus's hand stills on your back, but James and Sirius join in a fused indignant-confused "What?"

"S'just natural I guess," You shrug, "I dunno, I haven't- er, got one. But it was an accident, Jamie, you were asleep. It's alright."

James’s cheeks are still plenty rouged, but he nods sleepily at your forgiveness, relieved that he's not being hit by two people instead of only one.

"Yeah, thanks bird," He flops back down onto the mattress, letting out a sigh heavily infused with relief, "Wouldn't do it on purpose, y'know. Not while you're sleeping, that's- that's pervy."

"Some people like pervy," You hum, settling back into your own position in James's bed, though he's no longer curled around you. Sirius watches as you knock your hand against his own, "Sirius thinks I'm a perv."

"You're both pervs," Sirius grimaces, his lip curled in distaste as Remus stands from James's bedside, "Seriously, he eats off of your spoons, you've seen his dick, he's been grinding all over your ass - if you don't get a marriage license soon you're going to be very unpopular with the traditional crowd."

James turns towards you with a gasp, his eyes shining just the same as his grin does, "We could get married!"

"We should," You laugh, "And we could get a flat, and we could have your mother over for dinner every Tuesday."

"That would work." He nods, fully settled back into the pillows from Sirius's disturbance, "She loves you. And she's free Tuesday nights - her knitting circle ends at three."

"I know that," You scoff, barely biting back an overexaggerated eye roll, "James, I write your mother once a week. I know when her knitting circle is."

"You write my mum?" He rears back, momentarily confused, "She's never told me that!"

"Of course she hasn't," You snicker, "Because if you'd known, you would have stopped me from telling her how many times you get detention every week, and you'd want to share the sweets she sends me in exchange for the intel."

[montanabohemian]

so then they'd better get registered to vote. and fucking vote. and none of this purity politics bullshit. vote democrat or shut the fuck up forever. this doesn't mean you can't hold them accountable; you should. but ya ain't gonna have shit if the GOP rips away all your rights (including voting rights) which is literally what they are actively doing.

This is why the Fascists are doing everything they can to steal power now.

[rvp32]

Heir to the clan's legacy- Chapter 3

White cum spills out of Yoona's stuffed pussy and your cock is covered in her juices and your seed.

You turn around and smirk.

"Mommy…why don't you clean my cock?"

"Y/N Do you know what the fuck you have just done!" Taeyeon screams as she walks toward you.

The loud scream makes you lose your concentration a little allowing Yoona to escape from your binding

"What have I done, mommy? I fucked Auntie Yoona because she's sexy. I'm an adult. Why are you so mad?"

"I told you specifically not to do any such thing before you left and not only did you go ahead and fuck your aunty and cum inside of her you also had the audacity to call me here," Taeyeon screams

You then turn to Yoona.

"She enjoyed it. Didn't you, mommy" You say smirking, calling Yoona mommy.

Yoona was still recovering from the orgasm and she was also scared but she shyly said, " It was some of the best sex that I have had in a very long time,"

You smirk smiling, but then Taeyeon flash-stepped and you barely reacted since you weren't on guard. You manage to bat her arm away.

"I'm not a kid anymore, mommy…if I want to fuck YoonA. I will."

"Enough, put on your clothes you are coming home with me right now and we will talk about your behavior," Taeyeon says

she then looks to Yoona, " We are going to have a really long conversation about this Yoona,"

But you shake your head.

"No. I'm not going with you. I didn't do anything wrong." You flash step and put your clothes back on but then you also grab your sword and assume a challenging position.

"Y/n don't do this, all I am suggesting is that we talk. I am not trying to hurt you or even fight you. So calm down, " Taeyeon says trying to calm you down

"Talk about what? You can't baby me anymore. I want to be with Yoona…I will be with Yoona. I'll be with whoever I want. You know I asked Kazuha to be my girlfriend today?"

Yoona was also shocked by this information because she didn't expect you to have already a girlfriend whom you just started dating today. She felt bad because she was your side piece and the second option.

"I am not babying you anymore! I won't do it. We left off at a very bad place in the morning so I just want to clear it up. For fucks sake just listen to me just this one fucking time," Taeyeon said her showing more and more frustration as the conversation goes on

You turn to Yoona.

"Just so you know, you aren't a side piece or a second option…I need to restart my clan…I want you, need you as a partner, Yoona…I love you just as I love Kazuha."

Yoona's expression turned softer after hearing that, she also realized the huge responsibility you had.

You then turn to Taeyeon.

"Don't you understand that? I love you…I want you…who better to restart my clan than you, Mommy?"

"I am open to that and I would be really happy to help you with it as well but Y/n you need to learn to take consent before you jump onto people like that, I was confused and didn't know what you really wanted," Taeyeon explained

You then flash step to her and kiss her deeply again.

"I want you…I want both of you…" Your spiritual pressure rising again.

"Calm down, you don't need to release so much spiritual pressure, I am right here," Taeyeon says as she brushes a little bit of your hair

"I need both of you…" I say with lust, as I derobe once again. "Both of my mommies…sucking my cock…I'm still so full mommy, you said you'd always take care of me.." You pout like a child, playing on Taeyeon's motherly affection for you.

"I will baby boy, I will always take care of my pretty little boy," Taeyeon says before grabbing your cock and slowly rubbing it

"Oh.." I moan, finally. My mommy..my hot mommy.

"Yoona mommy…Taeyeon mommy…please both suck my cock…worship it…"

Yoona crawls to you, with your cum still dripping out of her freshly used pussy. she massages your balls as Taeyeon plays with your cock

"Oh fuck yeah…yes…use your lips my mommies…fuck.."

"aww is that so if you want mommy to use her lips you are going to have to beg pretty boy," Taeyeon whispers in your ear and bites it

You counter and kiss at her neck. You were kissing your mommy…your beautiful Taeyeon and you nibble at her ear too.

"Please Mommy…suck my cock…I've wanted to feel it for so long…your beautiful lips and tongue.."

"Now, that's a good boy, " Taeyeon coos before getting on her knees and taking the tip of her cock into your mouth.

Yoona takes this opportunity to stand up and kiss you passionately

"Mommy it feels so good…you were meant to do this right? My cock…to take care of me…this is the only cock you ever need…"

Taeyeon speeds up, taking in more of your cock every time she went down, trying her best to fit your entire cock into her tiny cute mouth

"Holy fuck mommy…oh my god…that feels so good…yes all of it.."

You kiss Yoona too, but you begin to thrust into Taeyeon's mouth.

Yoona pulls away from the kiss, "Go on fuck that throat like you mean it, show her who she belongs to," Yoona moans into your ear and goes on to kiss your neck and leave marks all over it

This turned you on a lot. As you begin to ram your cock into Taeyeon's thrust over and over.

"My mommy whore…my mommy bitch…my slutty mommy…" You chant as you finally get what you want. Taeyeon began choking on your cock a little but she still continued to take it into her throat as much as she could.

"Go on paint your mommy's throat white with all the precious cum, " Yoona moans as she uses your fingers to stimulate her clit

You bite at Yoona's breasts and suck on her tit..trying to draw out milk. You don't stop fucking Taeyeon's mouth as you shove as much as you could in there, watching it bulge.

"Holy fuck baby that's so hot, are you trying to get milk out of me baby," Yoona moans as she pets your hair like a child who is getting breastfed

"Fuck if only there was milk coming out right now!" You moaned in between sucking Yoona's tits

You had to figure out some spell for that or something…

"Oh, mommy…I'm going to cum…down your fucking throat…"

"GO on baby cum all down your mommy's throat," Yoona cooed you dumped all your cum down Taeyeon's throat

You pant and huff, pulling out and smiling.

"How does it taste Mommy? Your first taste of my cum? Your baby boy's cum?"

"It tastes amazing baby just as I expected it to but holy fuck don't you cum a lot. this is your second load and it is so much I wonder how thick the first load must have been," Taeyeon states,

"Oh the first load was massive and thick alright, his cum is still leaking out of my pussy and I am 100% sure that I am already pregnant with his baby," Yoona says

You pull Yoona in for another torrid kiss with your tongue.

"Your feet next…both of you…I need to taste them and fuck them…" You say with desire.

"aren't you an insatiable horny bastard, if that's what you want then your mommy's shall oblige," Taeyeon says

You growl.

"Oh? Calling your baby boy a bastard? How naughty of you, mommy!" You grab both of them and toss them on the bed. You lie down and have Taeyeon and Yoona sit near you by your cock. Taeyeon folds out her legs towards your face and you begin to lick at her toes and the underside of her feet.

Yoona meanwhile gives you a footjob.

"my baby boy is so naughty and always horny for his mommies isn't he?" Taeyeon questions as she enjoys you worshipping her feet

"I love your white nail polish Mommy…and Yoona's black…so sexy…your feet are so fucking good.."

Taeyeon's feet were so soft and you try to suck on all five toes from her foot at once.

"Aren't you a greedy boy wanting so much all at once, If I had known that you were a feet-loving boy then I would have gotten a pedicure before coming here," Taeyeon says before moaning

You suck on her toes harder.

"No, your toes are so good…so hot…I love them…please give me a double footjob mommies!"

"you are so impatient," Taeyeon says before using one of her feet to push your cock into Yoona's other foot. Both of you matching the rhythm together to jerk off your big hard throbbing cock

"HOLY FUCK MOMMIES.." You howl loudly as they worked together perfectly to stroke your cock off with their feet. The contrast of pedicure colors was amazing

"oh you are really enjoying this so much aren't you, my little perverted loser," Taeyeon teases you as she continues to play with your hard cock

"He loves it so much Unnie, he blew such a huge load when I gave him a footjob before," Yoona says

You pout. "Mommy…that wasn't nice…I'm just so attracted to you…"

"You don't have to lie baby I can feel your cock throb whenever I say things like that," Taeyeon says

"It turns me on when you want me, mommy…you're all mine right?"

"Yes baby I am all yours, both of us belong to you

I then flare up my pressure and jam my cock back into Taeyeon's tight cunt, growling as I use flash step and slam her into the wall and begin drilling into her gasp "Fuck!" Taeyeon moans out as you drill into her the sudden invasion of your cock stretching out her pussy a lot more than expected

"What was that mommy?" I growl as I hammer into her and then kiss her neck, biting at it a bit.

"It feels so fucking good baby, keep pounding Mommy like that use my hole however you want!" Taeyeon growls

"Remember you're my mommy…and my caretaker…I am your Master and baby boy…and you…I fucking own you…to fuck…and use as a whore!"

"Yes, you own me, fucking use me as your whore! make you your cum dump!" Taeyeon moans out pleasure completely taking over her brain

I kiss her with my tongue and speed up. The tightness of her cunt was immaculate..my whore mommy getting fucked by my cock was something else.

"Mommy…I want to drink your fucking milk…"

"Go on baby you can have how much ever you want!" Taeyeon allows you

"Unnie, What is he talking about?" Yoona asks confused about what milk you are asking Taeyeon for

I then lower my mouth to her right breast and swirl my tongue before latching on and sucking. I was finally drinking her milk…my mommy's milk…it was perfection.

"NGHH" Taeyeon moans, the pleasure getting too much for her. It felt like absolute heaven, she hadn't had something feel this good in such a long time

A little milk leaks out from the corner of your mouth and this surprises Yoona. So many questions popping into her head and you see her eyes lined with confusion. To distract her you push your fingers into Yoona's wet pussy and finger her as you continue to pound Taeyeon

"Mommy's milk…mommy's cunt…you're both mine…" you growl.

You were fucking Taeyeon so hard…your mommy…your whore…your bitch…was now truly yours.

Taeyeon's moans now sounded like screams absolutely tearing through thr roam and they were accompanied by Yoona who was also on the cusp of another orgasm

"I'm going to fucking cum mommy! Going to fucking cum so hard!" You roar.

"Go on baby cum inside your mommy, breed her just like you did me," Yoona encourages you and Taeyeon is just simply beyond the ability to speak right now

You were finally going to do it, you were going to breed your mommy Taeyeon…

"FUCK!" You slam your cock all the way inside her cunt and explode…cumming the hardest and longest you ever have…you weren't pulling out and waited minutes until you fully emptied, painting her walls white.

Taeyeon's mind was going absolutely haywire, completely taken over by pleasure. The cum was so warm and felt perfect inside of her. satisfying everything that she had ever wanted.

You then kiss Taeyeon with more tongue.

"Mommy…Yoona…on your knees both of you…fucking clean my cock…it's official now…you're both my whores to breed and restart my clan."

Without any replies, the both of them were on their knees, cleaning up your cock.

You hiss in pleasure as both their tongues and sweet lips worked your tip and they cleaned every bit of cum left. They shared it between them and you pressed their heads together to make out with your cock.

"I've been developing a kido spell…" You say before using the enchantment and a marking of the Uzumaki clan forms just above their cunt before disappearing.

"what is it supposed to do baby?" Yoona asks innocently.

Taeyeon is also curious and is just waiting to see what you answer

"This will make it so nobody else is allowed to fuck you…your body will only respond in pleasure to my touch alone."

"Oh someone is possessive!" Taeyeon and Yoona say at the same time

"Of course…my clan…my whores…I need to keep it all in line…now then…YoonA..I think you should move to the clan compound. We can use this place as a safe house."

"Oh am I finally being allowed to move into the Uzumaki's compound" Yoona questioned

"Yes you are, You belong to me now so you should stay where I can reach you any time I want," You reply

YoonA stands and kisses you lovingly.

"Good…it's settled then… let's head back. I have my first official day tomorrow so let's try and take it easy for the rest of the day."

"Yayyy!" Yoona cheers as she puts on her robe and begins to grab things that she will need.

The three of you get back and head back into bed. You were so happy having them on either side of you…you snuggle with Taeyeon and kiss her.

"I love you, mommy. You're mine."

"What about me?" Yoona whines as she hugs you

You kiss her too.

"And you too.." All three of you drift to sleep shortly after.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your phone wakes you. The room tilts as you open your eyes. A dull hammering thrums in your temples. The morning light makes your brain rough as sand paper. 

Dregs of vodka stick to your dry tongue. The hangover weighs you down like an anchor. Just the thought of moving hurts. 

You reach blindly for your jittering phone. Bubbly music tinkles from the speaker. Shit. It's Barrett. What did he forget this time? 

You answer and put your clammy palm to your forehead. You squint at the ceiling then your eyes slowly round. Where the fuck are you?  

"Hey, babe. You at Wendy's?" Your husband asks. 

You gulp and peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. This isn't Wendy's house. 

"Yep," you croak. Your eyes ping side to side. 

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Things got heated and I know I was an ass--" 

You cough as you sit up in the strange bed. "Yeah, you were." 

"So why don't you come home and we can talk it out." 

You peer around the room and your lips curve in a frown. Where the hell would you go besides home your loyal best friend's? You scratch you scalp and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, "let me get myself together." 

"Babe. Please. I'm sorry." 

"When I get home." You hang up.  

It was a hell of fight. The minute he started yelling, you bailed. He knows better. You're not doing a ten hour day and coming home his nagging. So you left out your coffee mug. Big deal. You didn't say anything about the garbage bag he left out to be torn apart by raccoons. 

Whatever. Fighting over dishes. Not of it matters right now. 

Your clothes are on the floor. Someone's floor. Who it is is far from the point. You stand and stagger. You catch yourself on the nightstand. Your hand moves instinctively between your legs. 

You're naked and tender. Did you have sex? 

Think! You ran out with your purse. You went to Wendy's. She was up for a night out. A night to forget and body did you. First drink, second, third, then it gets blurry.  

Fuck! You didn't. You wouldn't. You're pissed at your husband but you wouldn't cheat on him. You're not that type of person. Right? 

You don't have time for that. You have to get out of here.  

You dress as you search the room. It's tidy. Half the bed is mad and the other half messed from your drunken slumber. 

You shake out your hands trying to shoo away the flurry of guilt and denial. Just get out. You'll think better with some coffee in your system.  

You push down the door handle slowly. You listen to the silence of the hall. You tiptoe out warily, checking left and right as you advance. It's a nice place. A condo. Much nicer than your cramped one bedroom. 

Not important! 

You come out into the spacious front room. It's as empry as the rest of the place. The kitchen too. The bathroom. No one. 

Your purse is by the door. Your shoes too. You grab both and let yourself out. You'd rather not face your mistake. 

No, you didn't do anything. You wouldn't. 

You hurry down the hallway to the elevators. You don't look back, just keep going. You don't think, just go. 

It isn't until you're outside the familiar cafe marquee that your let your mind settle. You enter and join the queue. Your order a black coffee and drink it at a stool by the window.  

You lean your elbows on the high table that stands inside the pane. You take a slow, savouring swig of coffee and let it trickle down your throat. You shield your face from the New York morning and put your hands over your ears. 

You can't remember anything but Wendy. Your anger had you ordering round after round, trying to drown out the bile. The thought makes your stomach lurch and you gulp thickly. 

You shake your head and groan. Your phone chirps. It's probably Barrett. Several messages from him and missed calls. All through the night. It's bad enough you betrayed him, you had him up worrying. 

No, you didn't! 

It can't have happened if you don't remember it. A generous stranger took you home so you didn't wake up on the curb. That's it. 

That's the story. Nothing happened. And you'll let Barret believe you were with Wendy. It won't make a difference. 

Your mind is set. Nothing happened. 

Nothing. Happened. 

Because you don't remember. Because you were too drunk to do that. Because you're married and it can't happen. 

You're going to finish your coffee and go home. Everything will be just like it was before... after you tell Barrett where to put that coffee mug if it's such a big deal. 

[phyrestartr]

If We Had Lived (Divine Favour) | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader

W/C: 3k #SFW, fluff, mentions of past abuse, heian sukuna, typical kitsune shapeshifting, jp mythology, morally grey reader, DRABBLE

tags: @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah @memedealer-exe @f0th3rr @boretheral @cicithemess @paastaboi @someone0vx

--

“Sit still.”

“I'm sitting fucking still, fox.”

Sukuna did not sit still. He shifted and huffed, not unlike an annoyed, restless bull locked up in a pen–only, he was far from being in a pen and could leave whenever he so wished. 

Yet, he stayed. He endured the torture you, his prized possession, put him through for the sake of making good impressions or whatever. But the harvest festival was hardly a big deal–the last time the king was bestowed a gift of any value was when he found himself the owner of a beautifully annoying fox that hid in his garden for a fucking eternity. A prize like that was unlikely to be given again. What else could possibly excite the man who had everything?

Your tails swished behind you dramatically as you shifted on your knees, tilting your head to look over the work you'd done with cleaning and manicuring his nails and hands. Thankfully, you left callouses in place. Not that he thought you'd be so cruel as to remove them, but you certainly had the ability to, considering how soft your own hands were. 

“How much more?” Sukuna grumbled.

Your eyes flicked up to his for a moment before returning to your task. “I've hardly finished one hand.” 

The king scowled as a child might as you continued gently pushing at his cuticles with the slim, soft stick of an orange tree, carved specially for this occasion. Sure, he was the one who demanded you to turn your self-preening onto him, but still--

Your soft, warm touch cupped under his jaw and lifted his pouty gaze to meet yours. “You asked this of me,” you reminded. “If you've changed your mind, I've other tasks to attend to.” 

Sukuna’s lip twitched in an ugly, childish snarl. “You'll stay here and finish your job.” 

“Very well.” You leaned up toward him and kissed the spot between his brows before sitting again. But Sukuna followed you, bowing his head to chase a proper kiss that you gave freely, the kind spirit you were. “Then you will have to sit still.” 

“Tch.” But he obliged to the best of his abilities. “Already gonna have to sit still for hours while those damn peasants show up and dump scraps at my feet,” he sighed, pulling up a knee and resting an elbow on it. 

“My, a kingly thing is complaining about fealty?” You wondered, sarcastic yet cripplingly honest. “While I understand your unwillingness to do anything but fight and kill, you must remind those beneath you of your status.” 

Sukuna scoffed. “Yeah? Then why isn't my kyuubi doing just that?” 

“I am no king,” you said. “I am simply the servant of one, no? Given to him as a mere offering, yet kept alive for his amusement.” 

“Huh. Guess you know your place.” Sukuna shifted, and he noticed you pick up the pace, tending to him a bit quicker lest the restless beast lose his patience and leave with the job incomplete. He wouldn’t leave, not when he hungered for your attention and touch more than anything else the pathetic world could offer him–only something from the divine plane could satiate him. 

“Mh.” You raised his hand and pressed his knuckles to your lips, then against the soft plushness of your cheek. “My place is by my king’s side. It will forever remain that way.” 

–

You left his side. You left him, your pious saviour, your sworn king, your chosen mate, in favour of–what? Freedom? Adventure? Men? Women? What was it? 

Thunder echoed in Sukuna’s chest as he paced. He’d swept through towns, destroyed any houses you might have been sequestered in, searched vacant shrines and the like, but never caught a glimpse of your ebony tails nor your decorated kimono. It drove him mad. How had he not noticed? Did the harvest festivities really engulf his mind? Sure, they were more eventful this year, what with clansmen attempting revenge in the name of their fallen brethren, but it’d only been a week of problems–nothing challenging, nothing that really, truly required his full attention. And still–

“Sukuna-sama,” Uraume called, interrupting his buzzing thoughts. 

“What?” The king snapped, turning on his heel to face Uraume standing at his chamber door. “If this is about anything other than my fucking fox, then–”

“Please, come,” they said. “I believe I’ve found an explanation.” 

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. Uraume sounded calm, not that they ever sounded particularly frantic, but they seemed…happy, maybe? Some weird kind of content, perhaps. It wasn’t something Sukuna was used to seeing on their placid face, though it’d become more common ever since you entered their lives and made yourself at home. The frost sorcerer had a soft spot for you. Sukuna couldn’t blame them. 

“Pray tell what the fuck the explanation is,” Sukuna grumbled as he followed his subordinate, arms all crossed and tensed. 

“I’m certain I’ve found the whereabouts of your beloved.” Uraume slid open the door leading to the gardens in the back and walked on. “In the absence of (Name), I decided to tend to the gardens myself. In doing so, I found something quite peculiar–a hidden grove of sorts.” 

Sukuna’s fury morphed into prickling, fiery intrigue. “Bullshit. I’ve been all over this fucking garden with that fox. I know the ins and outs.”

“Then it would not surprise me if he indeed kept this a secret from you.” 

Sukuna grumbled. “He knows better.”

“I don’t believe it’d be intentional,” Uraume said, “but I believe his instincts may have influenced him to secure a quiet, safe place for the future.”

The king relaxed. Electricity sparked weakly in his fingertips first,then throughout the rest of his body when everything started falling into place–you wanted all eyes to be on him, you didn’t want anyone to look at you during the festival. Your cheeks had grown fuller, your body more plush, your desire to snuggle and snooze went through the roof. Could you have been–?

Uraume stepped toward a thicket of trees in the far corner of the garden–one that Sukuna indeed had never bothered with, considering it looked full of trees and foliage and definitely not a spot to meander on your shared morning walks–before ducking under thick branches and pushing aside flimsy bushes. 

Sukuna followed with a little more brute force, nearly ripping the pesky foliage out of the way and half-considering decimating the trees that dare whip him in the face with a cluster of leaves. But you’d probably get pissy if he did that. A pissy fox was fun, but also withheld sex, and that was a no-go for Sukuna these days, considering his concubines just weren’t doing it for him as of late. 

Sure enough, Uraume’s words rang true. The grove was small and cozy, letting in warm dappling sunlight while shielding itself from the prying eyes of the outside world. In the very corner of the garden and the evident centrepiece of the grove, stood an immense weeping willow, one with a formidable trunk and thick, gnarled branches reaching up to drape long curtains of green like cascading waterfalls around itself. Truly, it felt like a separate little world would be hidden in there, behind swaying vines and rustling leaves. 

“You gotta be shitting me,” Sukuna muttered, stepping past his right hand to push aside the foliage, revealing a black fox curled up in the hollowed trunk of that very tree. 

You didn’t stir when he approached. Something uneasy curled in Sukuna’s gut, but once he sat himself in front of the mouth to your little den, he spied the steady breathing shifting your small form, and calmed–until he saw something else wiggling against you, chirping and squeaking with pathetic, fragile voices. At first, he thought it was some sort of parasite sucking you of your lifeforce, but he realized too quickly that what he beheld were two, tiny kits, both covered in fluffy brown-black fur, both keenly aware of the presence of a curious new man sitting before them. 

Sukuna tensed when they approached him. Their chubby bellies knocked their weak, stubby legs off balance, but they persevered best they could, bumbling their way through trampled leaves and grass, and finally reaching the crossed legs of the king. Tiny paws papped at his pant legs before they hazarded climbing the formidable mountain before them And despite Sukuna’s hesitation, he hastily held their butts before they fell off of him like the stupid, dumb babies they were. They were his stupid, dumb babies, after all. Best to take care of them. 

“It appears he went somewhere quiet to nest,” Uraume hummed, sounding far too pleased as they watched the king handle fox kits. “Perhaps the festival was too stressful.”

“Tch. Could’ve shot the runts out inside,” Sukuna mumbled, half-heartedly annoyed. “Coulda said somethin’.” 

“He could have,” Uraume agreed, an air of ‘but what’s done is done’ clinging to their words. 

Sukuna sighed. “What a pain in the ass.” His eyes flicked to you again. He expected you to wake up, to snap at him like the feral thing you were. He expected you to calm after recognizing him. Maybe he expected you to curl up in his lap, too. Or did he just want that?

But you stayed sleeping. Content and safe under the shelter of your lover and the stalwart embrace of a weeping willow. Perhaps it was thanking you for your kind care with the way it soothed your soul and kept you hidden away. Sukuna wouldn't doubt it for a second. The garden acted differently ever since you claimed it as your own. 

“Shall we take them back?” Uraume asked.

The king thought for a long moment, sifting through selfish desires and rational decisions before coming to his conclusion: “Leave ‘em. He'll probably throw a damn fit if we interfere. You know how gods are–annoying and irrational as hell when they don't get their way.”

His subordinate smiled. “Very well.”

–

Winter’s first frost came, and you returned to his side. 

You woke him with a classic move–standing on his chest and staring at him expectantly until he woke up and gave you attention. You didn’t do it as much anymore, not ever since you found yourself in the midst of a thousand responsibilities and daily quests, but every once in a while, like when your lover would return from long journeys, you’d pester him endlessly for pets, scritches and kisses. 

But this time, once his heavy eyes opened, he not only saw you standing atop his chest, but a chubby pup caught in your maw, too. 

Sukuna blinked away his grogginess just as you gingerly placed the babe on his collarbone, tucking him underneath the king's chin. One of his large hands flew up to ensure the kit (his kit) didn't slip off when you let go and trotted away with purpose. 

“Fox,” Sukuna grumbled, displeased with your hasty retreat. Thankfully, you trotted back up to him a handful of moments later and placed a second ball of fluff on his chest before settling down beside him and watching. 

“Tch. Took you long enough,” the king huffed as he tried his damndest to be careful and gentle with the little ones. “Was about to drag your sorry ass in here myself.” 

I see. If you were so desperate for my company, you could have simply requested it, you countered. 

Sukuna sucked his teeth and huffed. “Like it woulda been that easy.” Nothing was that easy with you–and Sukuna liked it. If you gave in, if you tended to his every fleeting want and need, you'd be too boring, frankly. 

It is unlike you to not try. You shifted and wormed your way into his arms and half onto his chest, right beside the two snoozing kits you'd worked hard to bring up while Sukuna was off fighting, killing and maiming. But that was expected; servants and bedded beasts were to stay and make a home, weren't they? 

“Tch. I let you have your way for once and this is how you act?” Your partner admired your foxen features and traced his fingertips along your snout, between your eyes, to the top of your little skull before scritching behind your ears. You leaned into the touch, eyes falling closed with the meagerest offering of affection.

Shall I praise you and bow at your feet once I am able? You teased. 

“Bending over'll do the trick.” Sukuna smirked when you huffed. “How long you gotta stay as a shitty mutt anyway?” 

Until they wean. I'm not certain as to how long that will take.

“Not even a guess?” 

Perhaps another week or so. You turned your nose to the two small fluffs and groomed the tops of their heads. They're becoming more independent. More willing to explore. I take that as a good sign for their development. 

“Huh. Good.” A strange coil relaxed in Sukuna's chest, and he braved petting them with a single finger again. “‘N how long ‘til these two learn to play human?” 

Not for some time, but I will help them until they master it themselves. You nipped at Sukuna's hand as a third rose to come pester you. You should not pray for them to be human too soon. They will terrorize you. I have seen such chaos before. 

Sukuna grinned. “Ho? You forget who their father is?” Your sigh echoed in his mind, and his smile split wider. “I can handle anything.”

–

Kazuya and Genji took too much after you and your mischievous heritage. 

Too often Uraume would find them in baskets of produce, happily munching away like they were supposed to be in there. Other times, they'd be caught stealing shiny jewelry or knick knacks from the king's concubines and servants. They'd sometimes even take Sukuna's clothes and run amok with them, using them as toys or completely shredding them. 

You, he who had birthed and raised them, were swift when it came to correcting them. You were, of course, the prime example of a kitsune, and therefore found their treasure stashes, foretold of their destructive crimes, and knew when they'd be off to steal food. You were like them, once, after all. 

And maybe that's why you had a peculiar pep to your step. Once the boys found their devious personalities, you bothered lifting your tails from the floor. No longer did you let them drag and droop like limp noodles hanging from chopsticks. You seemed…prouder. Livelier. Perhaps being amongst your own gave you a sense of belonging, of hope. 

Belonging, huh? Tch, what a load of shit. Sukuna mused as he rested his cheek against his fist, lounging while he watched you wrangle the twins from his spot under a shady tree. Spring was here, and that meant the runts were now terrorizing the great outdoors. 

More accurately, they were following you around like two tiny shadows, too eager to waddle after you as you moved along the paths, sowing seeds and pruning withered leaves as you went. The tots picked up whatever your tending cast to the ground, and they held each thistle, leaf and twig close in tiny, pudgy hands like they were rabbit's feet. Strange little things.

He lost sight of you and the bumbling babies eventually, but your light chatter flitted through the brush and kept him company for a time. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot accompanied your walk as you came back around, closer and closer and–through the garden itself? Wait–

“RAH!” A little voice cried before a littler body launched onto Sukuna. 

“Ha?” The king quirked a brow and looked at the little thing biting and kicking at his arm like a spastic cat. “What the hell is this?” 

“He's trying to play with you,” you said as you wandered back into view, voice airy and light. “They wrestle.” 

Sukuna held his arm up to get a better look at the runt nibbling on him. “This is supposed to be playing? Damn thing's acting feral.” 

“Because he's young.” You settled down beside your lover, adjusting your robes and such to ensure they cascaded and pooled around you attractively. “One day, he'll ask you to teach him how to fight. How to use cursed techniques.” 

Sukuna's expression almost softened. “Huh. That so?” 

“Mh.” You smoothed Kazuya's hair back as he settled in your lap, choosing peace over violence, unlike Genji. “They are yours. I've no doubt they'll have the same hunger for strife and knowledge.” 

They are yours. The words nearly made Sukuna sick; they weren't his per sè, they were a result of his relentless attempts to tie you down and make you stay with him no matter the cost. They only shared half of his genetics, they didn't rule his every thought nor own half of his heart. That all belonged to you.

But then why did he feel…trepidatious? The way he once felt too long ago when he knew nothing of the world and met too many cruel hands from the moment he opened his eyes. Maybe because these little ones were that age, able to run around and cause problems where they ought to not. Maybe because messing with the wrong person might not end with them slaughtering he who had the audacity to harm them, but with their young lives being lost. 

Ah. That must have been it–the petulance of his own kind pissed Sukuna off to no end. The thought of extensions of himself being looked down on brought about creeping waves of disgust and distaste. Humans were the ones who thought themselves godly enough to kill Sukuna. Humans were the ones who thought themselves mighty enough to enslave and breed a divine beast. The little ones were destined to share humanity's ire, and it pissed him off. It really pissed him off.

“Yeah,” Sukuna decided, shaking his arm to test Genji's ability to cling onto him. “I'll show ‘em a thing or two. Can't have humans beating the shit outta some godlings just for fun.”

“Well, if one were to try, I'd kill them myself,” you cooed like it was the most romantic thing in the world. “Level their village, light the sky ablaze.” 

“Now you're speakin’ my language,” Sukuna said, grinning. 

[bunny-jpeg]

hi! is it possible to order a hot cross bun and sponge toffee with a side of matcha latte served by oscar piastri? thank you!!

bakery menu! (complete)

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to get your request and thank you to those who have submitted! i am working hard on them! so thank you! for this order in particular, i'd love what you suggested! so i hope you enjoy! thank you <3

hot cross buns ("don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up.") + sponge toffee ("aw, is someone mad that they can only cum because of me?") + matcha latte (collars/bondage) served by oscar piastri (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, bondage (cuffs), teasing, dirty talk, established relationship, mirror sex, cowgirl position

oscar hated when you hid your face. he hated when you'd shy away from his affection. while he understood why you did it, it still made him worried that he was hurting you when you'd shield your face while you moaned.

so during the mid-season break, oscar came up with an idea while you were at his home. it was rainy in england, so he had a lot of time to think about how to make you less shy. and it involved a rope and the full length mirror in your bedroom.

"oscar." you shifted on your knees as you stayed on the bed. you watched oscar come up to you with the ropes in hand. he kept his eyes on you as he smiled a little at you.

"don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up."

"oscar, please."

"yes?"

"is this going to hurt?"

he replied with a shake of his head, "of course not. i would never do something that would harm you! this will be a like a work-out stretch and it'll feel good." he got closer to you and embraced the warmth you as he kissed you.

you trusted him. you trusted oscar more than you did most so when he pulled away from your kiss and helped you off the bed soon you were on your knees in front of the mirror with your lover behind you typing up all the ropes.

"too tight?" he asked as he knelt behind you. he was still in his briefs, but you could tell he was excited. the idea of having you, to touch you all over. it was a lot for him, and he loved every second of it. he could easily have you any way he could. but, to tie you up felt even better. to put all of your trust in him.

you shook your head, "no, perfect." then shifted a little on your knees. you knew tonight was to show you how beautiful you were. you were a little self conscious, you weren't a model. you went to university and got a degree in biology with a minor in chemistry, not the most glamorous life. but oscar thought you looked adorable in your lab coat and goggles. and how you took safety very seriously!

"i want to prove to you that you're beautiful." he said as he rubbed your bound arms. the rope had your arms behind your back. there was little you could do. once again, all of your trust in oscar.

you were soon both naked with the oscar on the ground with a pillow under his head, you looked at him and said, "honey, that's not comfortable."

oscar replied, "not any less comfortable than a formula one car." he laughed before he took you and got you onto his cock. he helped you get settled on it before you sank down on the impressive size. you arched your back a little and oscar said, "look in the mirror. come on. i want you to see yourself."

you peered at yourself, there was no hiding now. not with your arms bound and you bouncing on oscar's cock. you shifted a little bit and whined, "please, honey."

he made a soft joke, "aw, is someone mad that they can only cum because of me? please keep looking." he held onto your hips and kept his eyes on you as you gazed at the mirror.

"oscar, you know that. you knew from the moment you made me cum that i couldn't reach the same highs without you." you whimpered as you continued to move on his cock.

you felt heat in your gut and across your face, having to look at yourself while you fucked your boyfriend felt like a lot. but, oscar wasn't going to be passive while you hated yourself. he wanted you to see what he saw in you. his beautiful girlfriend who was smarter than anyone else he knew! his hands on your hips were reassuring as you moved up and down his cock. your back arched a little.

"you look so pretty." oscar said, "say that you're pretty."

you moaned a little bit and oscar reminded you to keep your eyes on the mirror. you continued to work yourself onto his cock, your breasts bounced with each of your movements.

"c'mon." he egged you on with his grip a big tighter.

you admired yourself in the mirror while you rode him. you couldn't touch yourself or even move hair out of your face. you had to admire yourself with your arms bound and in the middle of sex. you swallowed and said, "i'm pretty. very pretty."

oscar groaned, "that's what i like to hear." he picked up his pace and really had you riding on him. he tensed up and felt his heart hammer in his chest, "say one nice thing about yourself." he said.

"c'mon, oscar." you replied. you felt the pleasure really start to course through your body. you could feel the stagger of pleasure in your heart as you rode him. the heavy thump in your chest as your began to tense up.

"i want to hear it." he said, a little more stern. but still he looked at you with love in his eyes. even though your gaze had to be transfixed onto the mirror.

"i like the shape of my face.... the colour of my eyes are pretty too." you blushed further, almost humiliated. if you could cover your face, but oscar wanted you to embrace yourself. your beauty, because you were confident in your smarts and he wanted your confidence in your beauty to be on par.

"mmm, what else?"

"please, oscar."

"one more." he encouraged as he moved faster against you. really worked your body against him and watched your shift a little bit. he said, "tell me one more thing because i can think of a hundred right now."

you squirmed against your binds and felt the heat in your body as you felt close to climax. you whined, "okay, okay. i like my breasts. they're a good size."

oscar got one good grab at your ass as he said, "oh yeah." then got you to completion. he watched you tensed up as you climaxed in the cowgirl position. he squeezed his eyes tight from the feeling and felt the rush through his body. the hammer in his chest as he came as well. he groaned, "oh, fuck."

you slowed down your pace after your orgasm and almost fell face first on top of him. but oscar got a hold on your and laid you on his chest. even though his back ached a little for the activities on the floor, he still felt good from the orgasm.

"that's it. that's my perfect angel." he said with warmth in his heart. he held you close then kissed the side of your face. then he started to undo your binds and let your arms free. you both laid out on the floor together with you on top of oscar.

he said as he held you by the lower back, "see, was that so hard?"

you kissed him on the jaw and replied, "well next time we're doing it in reverse." then tapped his nose. oscar couldn't help but chuckle, that didn't sound like a bad idea <3

[devilander]

in teaching you will learn (chapter 1)

18+ 3k. homelander x tutor f!reader. employer and employee sexual tension. abuse of power. fingering. AO3 link.

You accepted a job proposal to work as a History tutor to Homelander's son. It suddenly turns out to be more than you had bargained for.

prompt sent by @plasticfangtastic, thank you so much! beta'ed by @flaggermuser, love you!

Ryan was a very smart child. Powerful and smart, naturally, as any of Homelander’s offspring would be. So, to sate his endless curiosity, tutors—from the best universities, Homelander would settle for nothing else—of all subjects were hired to teach whatever was needed, whatever Ryan liked.

You had never imagined yourself in this position, History tutor to the Homelander’s son. But when you received Vought’s call, and they told you the paycheck that’d come with it, you immediately agreed. A non-supe, you wondered what it’d be like to deal with such a special kid, if Homelander would disapprove of your ways and send you packing on the first day. 

Insecurities were never your thing—you had received a M.A in History and Literature, for god’s sake! This was your turf. 

But… teaching a child? Whenever you would envision your future, you always imagined yourself as a professor, strict and serious, dealing solely with adults or, at most, young adults. 

You'd rise up, though, you knew it—even if you needed to spend all of your nights, from dusk ‘till dawn, watching videos on gentle parenting, endless courses on “childhood education” and teaching young learners. You would do it, and you would do it perfectly.

On your first day, you had a whole speech prepared, something about how much of an honor it was, how excited you were, how many ideas you already had; your stomach fluttered as you looked at his clear blue eyes, beautiful nose—

Homelander barely let you start. 

“Now.” He raised his hands, effectively shutting you up. “Enough with the yada yada, ‘kay? Let's get some things straight—all of your ideas gatta be approved by me first. And Ryan.”

“I'm sure, sir, I only meant—”

“And you'll not be berating him, for whatever fucking reason. You're not the boss here. I am. And, well, if he complains about anything, anything really, you’ll be… dismissed. That understood?” He had a congenial smile on his face, though you swore his eyes shined red, if only for a second. “Take care of my son, huh?”

He patted you on the shoulder and left. You just stood there, fuming and exasperated. If there's one thing you hated with a passion was condescending men; interrupting and disregarding your words as inane silliness. 

High and mighty as he was, Homelander was cut from the same cloth as them, it seemed. If it weren’t for your student debt piling up, you’d turn around and leave. As it were, you gritted your teeth and stayed. 

After that, though, you hardly ever saw him, and when you did, he only gave you an indiscernible look and a nod. 

Fine by me, you thought bitterly, mad at yourself that he'd surely noticed your flushed cheeks and quickened breath at your first real sight of him.

Ryan was sweet though. Sharp and eager to learn whatever you presented him with, such that you moved on quickly from fifth, sixth, to a seventh-grade curriculum. 

You found a happy medium—keeping it fun and educational. And you knew, you knew, whenever you were there, Homelander was watching you. 

And he was. Of course he was. He’d had his fair share of tutors Vogelbaum would present him with. Condescending little assholes, always thinking they knew better, reporting every minor thing he did, lecturing and punishing at their pleasure. 

As if he'd let his kid suffer the same fate. 

Education was, however, important, so he hired simpering tutors—a school would not do, no place was fit for Ryan—and those who didn't know their place were quickly taken care of. 

Yet you, the third History teacher hired (the first one was such a fucking mess—snapping his neck as soon as he left Vought was not enough for having the gall to rudely reprimand his son) were doing well so far. 

Oh, he had seen how you blushed and stuttered when you two met, and he had seen how you gradually steeled your eyes at his words. 

He had also noticed the sway of your hips, your pink, heart shaped mouth, the addictive sound of your voice—your scrunched up nose as you looked at him in poorly disguised anger.

So, yes, of course, of course he was watching, for more reasons than one. 

One day, when you and Ryan were talking animatedly about the creation of the American Constitution, Homelander decided to barge in, almost knocking the door off of its hinges.

You nearly fell off your seat in surprise, for a second scared and worried, until you saw his face. He looked as happy as a kid. Well, happier than Ryan. 

“Wowza,” he said. “What party do you two have goin’ on here? I could hear you from the hallway.” 

He could hear no matter how loud you were, but you got the gist. Smiling, though miffed at the interruption, you crossed the room, and he met you halfway.

“I was showing Ryan this book. Look.” He leaned down, his face touching yours. Oh God, oh God, wrong move. “It contains all of Thomas Paine's pamphlets published during the war in its original format. We were discussing how Paine's thoughts impacted on the Constitution’s writing.”

“Very nice,” he said, still so close to you the pure heat his body radiated engulfed your senses. And your body kept betraying, and betraying, and fucking betraying you.

“Oh, I love this part.” You thanked the heavens your voice didn't quiver, and started to read out loud. “Tyranny, like hell—”

“Is not easily conquered.” Homelander completed, and you looked up, only to find him already looking at you.

His hand then rested on your arm, lingering for a few seconds too long, his eyes locking you in place. You gulped, heart thumping in your chest—

“Dad,” Ryan bemoaned. Homelander dropped his hand instantly. “This is my class. You're interrupting us!”

Homelander frowned, then almost pouted. 

“Geez, buddy, what a way to treat your old man.” He crossed his arms; you contained a giggle. His eyes glinted mischievously as he turned to you. “Can I be your student for the day? I promise to behave.” 

“I don't see why n—”

“No,” Ryan exclaimed, interrupting you. “No, no and no!” 

Though he tried, there was no convincing Ryan. He wouldn't share the time he had with you. Inwardly, you smiled at the kid’s innocent jealousy; and thanked the heavens for the save, you certainly needed it. 

Huffing and stomping his feet, Homelander left the room, but not without giving his son an annoyed glare and you a look you couldn't—wouldn't—name yet. Maybe ever. 

Weeks passed, classes going smoothly despite your warring thoughts. You were attracted to Homelander, because of course you were; lucky you. Your boss, supe, leader of the Seven. The man who had so far threatened you, talked with you, touched you… 

Fear tinged with desire, confusion with curiosity. He was equal parts charming and infuriating. Would you dare to willingly put your hand in the mouth of the tiger? 

It became routine for Homelander to participate—or interrupt—your lessons to share his own opinions, much to Ryan's chagrin. And you… you were endeared. 

“Think you could've done a better job than Theodore Roosevelt? Really?” Your disbelieving tone didn't seem to put him off, just the opposite.

“I'm certain I could.”

His playful smile and arrogant tone annoyed you. Enchanted you. 

“Well, you should try for president, then,” you joked, catching yourself turning fully towards him. “You'll beat the records of votes and rule this grand nation!”

He hummed, winking at you. “Yeah, no. Not really in my… interests right now.”

“Would you make a Shermanesque statement on that?”

Homelander laughed, shaking his head. 

“Nah, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His eyes roamed over your body. “Couldn’t have that.” 

“What’s Sherman—Shermesque,” Ryan piped in, furrowing his brows as he stumbled over the word. “What are you talking about?”

“If nominated, I will not run; If elected, I will not serve,” you spoke at the same time and giggled, giggled!, together. Stop giggling like a schoolgirl, you chastised yourself, but you couldn't help it. There was such a thrill about flirting with danger in the flesh. 

Turning to Ryan, you explained. “It’s something William Sherman said. He was a popular general during the Civil War and was being considered as the Republican candidate during presidential elections. He, however, refused!” When excited, your arms had a mind of their own, and you found yourself gesturing wildly, enthusiastically. “His words became really popular from then on, such that it's now called a Shermanesque statement, and sometimes used by politicians and the like.”

Homelander couldn’t help but stare while you talked, entranced by your passionate speech, flushed cheeks and shining eyes. You were so fucking cute, deliciously captivating—even in your pitiful stubborn act, or all the more enticing because of it. He wanted to savor each and every moment you walked about the room; wanted to catalog your breath changes, the rises of your voice, your moving lips. 

Would you be just as responsive in another, more interesting scenario?, he wondered. Maybe you would want to take charge, bossy little thing you are. Maybe he’d have to bend you just shy of breaking you only to see you beg—beg him to fuck you, to let you come on his fingers, mouth and cock. 

His filthy thoughts raged on, only interrupted when you announced your time was up. Ryan groans in disappointment and Homelander has a hard time not doing the same. He hungers for more moments with you. Alone.   

“C’mon, kiddo,” he says, noticing Ryan stalling to tidy up his books and supplies as he liked to do. “You gotta get ready for your shooting today.”

Ryan grumbles under his breath. “I hate these commercials.”

Before he can answer, you approach, tousling Ryan’s hair and leaning down to look him in the eyes. 

“Hey, sweetheart, it will be okay. Just play pretend like we talked,” you said. “And if it gets too much, I'm sure your dad will take care of it. I'll bring you a treat tomorrow, how about that?”

He should probably put you in your place for daring to presume you know shit about him and his son—as if your puny mind could understand the greater beings they were. And yet, and yet… Ryan was smiling, rushing to embrace you though his quick heartbeat betrayed how nervous he was. You hugged him back, and looked at Homelander with such sweet grin that he—fuck, he felt fucking breathless.

He wanted to kiss you. 

When Ryan left the room, you snatched your purse, seemingly wanting to leave as quickly as possible. But Homelander stood in front of the door, unmoving, his jewel-toned eyes intensely fixated on you. 

A sudden heat spread through your body, and you let out a breathy sigh. And he noticed; eyes tracking over your face and chest, like undressing you with his mind. 

Perhaps he was. He certainly could. The thought made you desperate, you needed to run. Your apartament wouldn't be enough, maybe you should catch a bus to Jersey. Or a fucking plane to—Russia, or farther—

“Want me to give you a ride?” You were so distracted you barely heard his words, much less the double entendre. 

“What?” 

He snickered. “I said—”

“No! I mean yes. I mean no!” You shook your head, dizzy. “No, sir, I wouldn't want to trouble you.”

“Ah but there's no trouble at all, it'll take a minute. I know where you live.”

“You do?” A shudder ran through you.

“Of course, you silly goose. It's in your resume.” He tapped your nose, a gesture so off-putting you snorted, suddenly aware he'd closed the distance without you noticing. “Let's go, little miss mouthy. Don't make me insist,” he declared, voice still cheerful, but you caught the edge of it, leaving no room for argument. 

“Okay, okay… But only this time!” 

Homelander simply laughed. 

Reaching the balcony, you looked down and froze. Too high, too high!, your brain screamed at you. 

“Hehe, on second thought…” You looked at him pleadingly, a weird laugh bubbling out in sheer nervousness. You gripped the banister as if your very life depended on it. 

“Ah, ah. No takesies backsies.” He wiggled his finger in your face, and, for a single moment, two, three seconds?, caressed your cheek softly. 

Before you could react, he grabbed you by the waist and took off. Panic stricken, you hid your face in his neck, dangling legs instinctively circling his hips; much like a koala, you held on to him in all ways you could—even your fingers found locks of his hair to grip mercilessly.

Through the rush of the wind, you felt, more than heard, his laugh. 

It took some seconds to catch on to the overwhelming closeness between you two—how every inch of your body was adhering to his, how you could feel the impressive strength emanating from him, how his warm breath was hitting your neck, leaving shivers in its wake. 

You could feel it all. No matter the padded suit, you felt the tension in his muscles, the upheaval in his chest as he drew you even closer and fuck you couldn't fucking help clenching your cunt and exhaling right next to his ear—

In a second, Homelander had you on the roof of your building.

You didn't want to look up, fearing what he'd throw at you, anger and indifference or lust and temptation. Both shook you to your core. 

“Wakie, wakie,” he said, breathless, a certain roughness to his tone. His hands squeezed your back with surprising care. Each second was too long, and yet not enough. 

And then you felt it, as you started to disentangle yourself from his body, his cock, hard and throbbing, poking your stomach, dangerously close to where you ached for it the most. 

You looked up. 

There was no smirk, no mocking eyes—only a stare so intense your heart skipped a beat. 

“Thank you, Homelander, for the—for the ride. I appreciate it, despite you almost giving me a heart attack at first.” You giggled, trying to dispel the mood.

“How about you thank me by inviting me in? Y’know what they say, actions speak louder than words.” 

“No, I…” you hesitated, trying to think of an excuse but your mind went blank. “No.”

Homelander cocked his head, dazzling smile turning a little unnerving. “No? Is that right?”

“How about another day? I can—”

“I didn't fucking ask for a bullshit, out-of-pity mock invite, did I? What is it, hiding some terrorists in your shithole apartment? Or mommy’s dead body?���

If it weren't for his looming over you, you'd crack a laugh—his mind certainly went places. 

“Listen—” You started again, only to be pushed until your back hit the roof's door, knocking the air out of you. 

“You listen,” he ground out, eyes a kaleidoscope of red and blue. It was painfully exhilarating. “Don’t try lying to me. I can sense you, I can fucking smell you, your pussy is soaked.” To prove his point, he removed one glove and opened up your pants; your panties were shoved aside as he squeezed two fingers inside you. You whimpered at the burn of his intrusion, but you were so wet the squelch was loud even to your ears. “You either invite me in or I'll rip your clothes off and fuck you right here. Your choice, sweetheart.”

Homelander was being nice in giving you a choice, despite the fact you were a rude tease, and a liar to boot. His fingers kept pumping in and out of you, and he found it so fucking hard not to go all the way, not to have you against this door while you moaned so, so sweetly. 

He needed you—to feel you clenching on his cock as you did now on his fingers. And you wanted him. Fuck, you were whining and opening your legs so he could finger you better, clinging onto his waist as your head rested on his shoulder. Still, you dazedly shook your head. What was the matter with you?

“Oh, please, please,” you half begged, half moaned, raspy voice driving him crazy. “We can't, I can't…”

“Give me one good fucking reason why not, huh. One.”

Instead of answering, you kissed him. He seemed surprised at first, but reciprocated in an instant. And it was all you expected it'd be, messy and passionate and hot; he consumed you, drinking in every part of you, all you had to give, and what you wouldn’t give, he would take. 

You gathered his face in your hands, wanting a little bit of tenderness in the violent chaos of you, a little bit of love—if you could.

His hand kept working on you, thumb rubbing your clit in circles and, before you ran completely out of breath, you came so hard your legs gave out. 

Perfect for Homelander to catch, hold you onto his body as you rode the waves of your pleasure—so beautiful he was enraptured. 

After a few moments, you whispered. “I can't let you in. If I do, I won't think straight, I'll just let you do anything you want to me.” 

“Is that a bad thing, sweetheart?”

“I'm… not used to this, I don't… I haven't done much of this. You never even asked me out!” You laughed. The good humor vanished as you continued. “I can't lose this job. I need it, I like it. If we do… What will even happen to me?” You cursed your own inability to talk about this, all your eloquence going to the drain when you needed to speak of something other than History. In those moments, you always felt like mimicking some speech taught to you long ago, as if talking about your own feelings was an unattainable device. 

Yet Homelander found it amusing. Apparently he'd gotten you all wrong, or at least parts of it. For all your bravado in speaking to him, in challenging him—in your fearlessness and spunk—you were inexperienced. Innocent. Shy. Wasn't that his fucking lucky day. 

“So the baby wants me to take her on a date first, that it?”

“I didn't say that.” You raised a brow, crossing your arms. “And don’t call me baby.”

“Also I boy-scout promise not to fire you if you are a bad lay, but I doubt that, baby.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said, though there was no bite to it, only a timid smile on your face. “Okay, alright. This weekend?” 

“Friday. I’ll send someone to pick you up. Wear something nice for me.”

Before leaving, he kissed you deeply, hands nearly shaking with yearning. He wanted to take it all back and drag you to his bed, absconding with you for a day or two. But he’d waited this long and he could wait a bit longer—he’d savor every second and make it worth it.

As you walked down the stairs to your apartment you sighed, drunk in the haze of disbelief; there was no way you could run now. It’s clear you have a problem. What you should wish for isn’t what you want.

[mt-oe]

Ummm

Mizu with breeding kink ???? 😵‍💫🫣

Please 🙏

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Sorry for being so late on this and thank you for requesting ;;

I hope I somehow make up for it with how I wrote it. Honestly though, this was one of the requests I expected to receive and actually receiving it was so funny. In all seriousness, I really appreciate it <3

Sorry if this one sucks or isn't up to what you'd like it to be. I don't think I cooked with this one since I wanted to try something slightly different ;; Please don't get mad or disappointed in me. I'll do better next time!

Anyways, hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa <3

warning/s: not proofread, smut (mdni!), mention of impregnation, referring to the strap as a cock/dick, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

Clear blue eyes followed your figure with a seemingly neutral expression. Mizu had to remind herself numerous times that she agreed to this, that whatever the fuck she was currently feeling was the consequence of her own agreement.

The situation was simpler that it seems actually. It was the middle of summer, sun shining and the heat cooking it up. She had decided that it was a good time to modify and make the necessary repairs to her motorbike. However, just as she was about to finish and wash her bike, you had woken up and joined her.

Reason unknown to her, the idea of washing her bike seemed so appealing to you. "Let me do it. Just tell me how," you insisted, grabbing the sponge from her. Aww damn, you looked so excited too.

There was no harm in letting you, right?

That was where she was wrong. What seemed like an innocent little task ended up making her so fucking internally flustered. She knew it was hot out. Sweat was already soaking her back, dripping down her neck and chin. But what she didn't expect was for you to come help her in your tank top and shorts.

Now her thoughts were spiraling between wanting to help you and wanting to bend you down on her bike and fuck you until her seats were dripping.

Admiring your body, her eyes couldn't help but admire the way it moved as you hauled the hose over to her bike, untangling the rubber. She noticed the way the fabric of your clothes clung to your body from the sweat and something poking through your top. Fuck...you weren't wearing a bra, weren't you?

This was really her fault. The wetness between her legs was purely her fault. Why did she even agree to this?

"So I just avoid the fuel tank and the exhaust?" you asked her, voice almost radiating with innocent excitement as you directed the hose towards her bike. Your giggles filling the garage as you played with the water pressure, droplets splashing back everywhere.

Water ran down your arms, your collarbone down to your shirt, making it slightly see-through. Her gaze followed its trajectory with deep fascination, breath hitching almost violently as it landed on to your breasts.

She didn't know what was wrong with her today. She wasn't usually this uncontrollably horny, but goddamn. Maybe she was ovulating or something. Because right now, she wanted nothing more than to slip her hands under your shirt, pull you close to her so she could hear the soft sweet sounds from your mouth while she toyed with your nipples.

The image of your cheeks flushing red as you looked up at her, ass grinding against hers wantonly while you bit your lip. Your breath would hitch with every pinch, every tug, even with every squeeze. Small pleas and mewls would accompany the way your hips would move against hers like a dance meant for her only. "Do we really have to do this right now? L-Let's just go back in and fuck ple—"

splash.

"Am I doing this right? Why aren't you talking?" She was pulled out of the trance she was in as you splashed the water by her feet, making her jump a bit. You raised an eyebrow at her odd behavior, placing a hand on your hip. "Are you okay?" you asked, tilting your head a bit.

Mizu cleared her throat and nodded, lifting her head but looking everywhere except at you. "Yeah...The heat's just getting to me," she replied, trying her best to appear nonchalant and turning her focus to her bike. "It looks good just make sure to use the soft side of the sponge when you soap it."

You nodded in understanding before sauntering over to the cabinets to look for the soap. Eyebrows furrowing, your eyes scanned over each bottle before moving to the next cabinet. Just when she thought she could take a break, you suddenly got on your knees as you looked for the soap on the lower shelves. "Is it on this shelf?" you asked, pointing at it.

Yup, it was actually on that shelf, but damn fuck it.

"No, I think it's on the bottom one," she answered, leaning forward in her seat slightly, pretending to look. You gave her a small nod and shifted, bending over further. While you were busy turning every bottle on the shelf in search for the soap, she let her imagination wander further. Her eyes tracing the curvature, fingers twitching ever so slightly at the urge to head over for a small grab.

She'd place a hand on your back and push you down further, forcing you to arch your back for her while her other hand slipped under the fabric of your shorts, feeling the wetness growing on your panties. The tips of her fingers dipping ever so slightly, just enough to feel it but never enough to get off on it. Oh how sweetly you'd whine.

And if you pleaded well enough to satisfy her, she might just slip her hand under your panties, dip her fingers in your entrance shallowly to gather a bit of slick before moving up to your clit. The hand on your back would be replaced by her body, pressing down on you to keep you from squirming too much while she toys with the sensitive bundle of nerves.

She'd start out at a deliberately slow pace, tracing shapes on to your clit, drawing out each moan and gasp from your lips until you were whining and begging her to go faster. But she'd keep you there, until you could yourself dripping onto her fingers, entrance throbbing as if asking her to fill you up.

You'd beg her to put it in, eyes teary and hazed with lust. If you begged hard enough to please her, she'd tangle her fingers within the locks of your hair and grip it, pulling you up with one hand while she put her strap on with the other.

"Use your mouth," she'd order you, pushing your head towards the tip of the silicone. Gratefully, you open your mouth and give the head a few kitten licks to get it nice and wet before wrapping your lips around it. Moans reverberating in your throat as she pushes you down, causing your eyes to water as you choke on the plastic, gasping deeply upon pulling away before she pushes you down again.

Your jaw would definitely hurt, but you'd take it for her.

You were a good girl, weren't you?

Once her strap was wet enough, she'd pull your hair back and make you bend over her bike. Her hands would hurriedly pull your shorts down along with your panties before aligning herself against your hole. She'd watch as the toy sinks inside of your entrance, your thighs jiggling slightly as you trembled, a loud moan ripping from your mouth while your eyes rolled back. Wet squelching noises would echo in the garage while she—

"Woah I found it!" you chirped, sitting up with the bottle of soap in your hands.

Fuck. Damnit.

"Where was it?" she asked, pretending not to know. "It was on the middle shelves. I guess you misplaced it," you replied, standing up and closing the cabinet. Mizu nodded and changed the way she crossed her legs, trying to keep the arousal between her legs quelled.

You made your way over to her bike before curiously pouring the soap in a bucket of water, swishing your hand inside to create some bubbles before dipping the sponge in and scrubbing her bike. Your giggles and small hummed tunes sounded around while you worked excitedly, aiming to please your lover.

Meanwhile, her head was reeling with images of your figure bent-over her bike while she plows her dick in you. "You're moaning like a bitch," she'd groan, a slight chuckle leaving her lips as you whined in response, brain unable to form words. "I could probably put a baby in you if I wanted to."

A baby?

Yeah that sounds like a good idea, your fucked-out brain would say

Your head would nod desperately, making her laugh. "That sound good to you?" she'd ask almost mockingly, gripping your chin to make you look at her. She'd admire how fucked silly you looked. How pretty you were even when your mind was overwhelmed with pleasure, tears streaming from your eyes, drool at the side of your lips. "Mhm...cum in me please," you'd beg her, a sultry laughter mixing in with your moans, making her groan.

Her lips would kiss you from the temples down to your neck, one hand rubbing your clit in circles while she went in deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin would echo around. A sense of satisfaction washing over her upon hearing your moans turn into squeals and sobs. "I'll blow it deep inside you...make you the prettiest momma," she'd whisper, smirk ghosting her lips as you nodded, letting out a long drawn whine. Her hands would grip the plush of your ass while sexing out any coherent thoughts you'd have left. She'd go in so deep you'd think you could feel her from your liver to your lungs.

"Cum in me...please..love.." you'd beg, face against her seat as your arms grew weaker. Your words sending a rush of heat to her loins, encouraging her to go faster. Her dick may be plastic but she'd sure as hell give you what you want. Mizu's movements would grow more erratic, aiming to give you what you begged her for.

You want her to cum in you? She fucking will. She'd push it in so deep you'd forget it was impossible. The tip of her dick would make your cervix bruise while you couldn't help but ask for more. Ask her to fuck you more.

To fuck you harder.

To fuck her babies into you.

Fuuuuuck.

You'd feel the intense coil of climax building up inside you. Your cries and moans would get louder with every thrust. A loud cry followed by incoherent sobbing would accompany your release. "O-Oh shit.." you'd gasp out, a weak moan leaving you as she slowly pulled out, a ring of your cum creaming at the base of her cock. Your figure would slowly sink down to the floor, knees too weak to keep you body up. "Fuck.. Mizu.."

"Mizu? Mizu! Hey Mizu!"

Your voice once again pulls her out of her imagination with a jolt. A surprised noise coming from you as you stepped back. "W-What's going on?" she asked, looking around as she tried to pull herself to reality.

A confused look graces your features before you step back to show her your work. "I'm finished. And I put the wax on too. You do do that, right?" you asked her, frowning a bit at how red her cheeks were. "Actually forget that. Are you okay?"

She coughs a bit, straightening herself up. "Its just the heat," she answers, grasping the collar of her shirt to fan herself. Uncrossing her legs, she grimaces at the slip of her wetness between her legs.

"Are you sure?" you ask her, tilting your head and bending down a bit. Blue eyes wandered down to your chest again, blanking out slightly before she nods, then pausing as a thought rushes through her head.

"Actually.. I do think you can help me with something," she says.

"What is it?"

"Let's go inside first."

[soft-pine]

when i think about this scene from 15.15 it makes me want to chew glass and tear up the walls in rage.

AMARA: I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person, that the myth you'd held onto for so long of a better life, a life where she lived, was just that, a myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life.

for the record i want to say i am a known amara-hater. don't like the non-con shit. don't like that she's doing what so many beings in spn do and narrativizing dean's life back at him while judging him because she drew the wrong conclusions. but i think fandom does have a tendency to take those claims at face value because that is easier than combing back through to check if it's correct or not. (see for example, rachel saying dean only calls cas when he needs him in 6.18. narrativizing, incorrectly. but i digress)

so let's talk about mary. because, through the seething rage, i think two main things about this claim. 1. dean does not have this mythos around mary and 2. mary has arguably more of that mythos around dean.

first off, we'll tackle the claim that it's a myth that if mary hadn't died, dean wouldn't have a better life. because that is absolute, utter, dogshit. OF COURSE HE'D HAVE A BETTER LIFE. while i will always maintain that clearly mary and john were far from stable before she died, her death was what speared john forward into hunting, into turning his kids into soldiers, into neglect and parentifying, and every other god forsaken thing he did. "a better life, a life where she lived, was just that, a myth" - girl, i DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE DIVINE, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

like please don't come here acting like dean grieving the future he could have had that didn't include him taking care of his younger brother alone in motel rooms for days while maybe actually being left as bait for the Kid-Eater is a character flaw on his part that he needs to learn better from.

next, amara claims dean needs to see the "real, complicated Mary."

but hasn't he? dean goes back in time and meets his mom in 4.03 and 5.13. and both times he treats her both as a competent hunter and a colleague. like to be clear, before that, i dont think he was wrong to be relying on a four-year-old's memory of what his mom was like because that's literally all he had access to. but dean actually did meet and interact with the whole, complex woman who was his mother long before amara decided to teach him a lesson with her as the homework. in both 4.03 and 5.13, dean tries to give mary advice to save her life but he doesn't belittle her experience hunting or her desire to leave and life a normal life. i don't know what more you want from him in terms of interacting with his mom as a whole, real, complex person?

this also applies wholly and completely to his interactions with her when she returns in s12. he apologizes for being nervous for her safety (AFTER SHE WAS JUST RESSURECTED) at first. mary says she wants to hunt, dean gets on board. mary says she needs space, dean asks clarifying questions to best support her request. he gets mad at her not for being who she is or needing what she needs but for lying to him for months and working with people who tortured him and sam.

in fact, s12 is what i would point to to indicate how well dean articulates and navigates the nuance of being hurt by someone's actions while still understanding and empathizing with why they did it and forgiving them. for example, he says this in 12.04

DEAN: This whole mom thing, it's... I mean, we get her back, and then she leaves. I hate it, but I get it. I do. I guess I'm just...still working through some of that crap. I'll try to be less of a dick about it.

[you're not a dick, dean, ilu]

in fact, dean's much maligned "how 'bout for once, you just try to be a mom?" isn't even about dean wanting anything particularly maternal from mary. it's about him not wanting her to ditch them to hunt alone and/or with the aforementioned torturers.

so circling back to amara's speech about expectations and myths. cause while her words do not apply to dean. amara's speech does remind me of something that happens upon mary's return in s12. these lines from 12.03:

DEAN: Mom, it's okay. All right? You're home now. MARY: No. I'm not. I miss John. I miss my boys. SAM: We're right here, mom. MARY: I know. In my head. But I'm still mourning them as I knew them. My baby Sam. My little boy Dean. Just feels like yesterday, we were together in heaven, and now...I'm her, and John is gone, and they're gone. And every moment I spend with you reminds me every moment I lost with them.

of course she has every right to grieve the time she lost with her kids. but someone in this room is having trouble really looking at the people in front of them because of their idealized memory of who they were compared to are and It Is Not Dean.

and i just think about dean's speech in 12.22. cause it wasn't dean that needed to see the real mary. it was mary, tucked away in her dream world where sam is a baby and dean is a little elementary schooler who likes pie and has never held a gun, who needed to see the real dean.

[slasherscream]

Wash Day

pairing:  jordan li x fem black!reader

"You wanna go out to dinner tonight? Know I've been busy this week. Feel like I've barely seen you." Jordan mutters against the shell of your ear. You shiver as he gives the skin a teasing kiss.

Already you're pouting, knowing what your answer has to be even though you wish so desperately that you could give a different response. "Wish I could, Jordan. But my night is already spoken for."

You're spun around by a hand on your hip, playful and fast so that you can't stop yourself from falling into his chest. Your hands grip his jacket for balance, and he reaches up to hold one of them with his own. "You got plans? With who? Cate? Cancel them."

"Brat." You laugh.

How demanding Jordan is would be less cute if they ever asked you to do something they themselves wouldn't. As it stands, with the way they do anything you ask at the drop of a hat, all you can do is roll your eyes and pretend to be exasperated instead of smitten.

"Fine, don't cancel. I'll just come with." Jordan sighs, as if seeing his best friend is a great tragedy (Which it is. Cate being there means you'll smack Jordan's hand away when he tries to sneak it up your skirt at dinner.)

"What if we want a girls' night?" You shoot back, grinning.

Jordan shifts. The hands on your waist are smaller now, but pull you in closer, "You're the one who's feeling bratty. Really have been neglecting you this week, huh baby?" Jordan smirks, in that condescending way she does when she realizes you're trying to get a certain reaction out of her.

"The plans aren't with Cate, and they aren't cancellable." You sigh, deciding not to rise to the bait of her tone, smirk, or the little circles she's rubbing into your skin.

"What are these oh so important plans?" Jordan asks.

"Do you know how many white boys have complimented my hair today, Jordan?" You ask.

"Pardon?" Jordan blinks at what seems to be a completely unrelated topic.

"Six! Six white boys complimented my braids today. I'm about to kill myself, if we're being honest. I must looked fucked up, and you didn't even say anything." You pout.

You've been having a bit of a rough day, to say the least.

"You look beautiful. What are you talking about?" Jordan asks, confused but nonetheless, wanting to make you feel better. "If you didn't look good I'd very politely... have Cate tell you. But you look great! You've been getting compliments all day, you just said it yourself!"

"Wow, you'd throw Cate under the bus, huh coward?"

"Cate isn't interested in making out with you every spare second of the day. I am. You can be mad at her. I've got stuff I wanna do." Jordan's grin is downright salacious. You smack her arm, trying not to smile.

"Ah. You are operating under the same delusions of the white man. I see that now, I'll let go of the anger." You say, sighing and kissing Jordan on the cheek.

"First of all, don't you ever fucking insult me like that again.... Second of all, what particular delusion am I sharing with the white man?" Jordan asks.

"White men only compliment a black woman's hairstyle at two points in time. When it's brand spanking, fresh off the lot new. Or when it's started to look like shit. I've had these braids in for longer than... is your business. So guess which compliment I'm getting right now?"

"I fucking refuse to say your hair looks like shit, and this conversation feels like a trap. You're always beautiful to me." Jordan says.

"Thank you, baby. But we live on a campus where the diversity win photographers lurk around every corner trying to get pictures of 'The Diversity Win Couple' in our most natural state. I need to take out my braids tonight before I talk crazy in the group chat, and Andre sends me a 'this you?' pic that will devastate my argument." You shake your head somberly, already imagining the fate that lies before you.

"You could stop talking crazy in the group chat." Jordan teases.

"You know damn well I'm not capable of that."

The two of you burst into laughter, unable to keep it together. Jordan has always been obsessed with how easy it is for you to make them laugh.

"Is that gonna take up your whole night, though, baby? We don't have to go to dinner early! We'll go wherever you want." Jordan insists, tone bordering on begging.

Whenever they come out of a particularly busy week, they spend the next two weeks glued to you. As if to make up for it. The clinginess is a stark difference from how they acted before you made things official.

"Jordan, look at the braids on my head."

"I'm looking at them."

"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"

"Yes, and my eyes are sending the image to my brain, which I assure you is working. What's your point here, baby?"

"How long do you think it will take me to undo these, detangle my hair, wash it, deep condition it, and then wash it again?"

Jordan squints at you for a long moment, analyzing your hairstyle and the utter displeasure on your face. "I dunno? Maybe... four hours?"

"I should fucking murder you. Just for that, you're helping me with wash day now."

Jordan's face breaks into a grin like sunlight breaking through clouds, "So I do get to spend the day with you, is what you're saying?"

"Yeah, baby, you get to spend the day with me." You click your tongue at them. Pitying them for the ache in their fingers they're about to feel. They complain about curling their God damn hair a couple of times a week. You suspect you'll be ready to kill one another by hour two.

But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.

"Don't cut too high up, Jordie. " You whine, shifting his grip lower on your braid, to an acceptable cutting length of the hair extension.

"Baby... can I ask you a very serious question right now?" Jordan hums, obediently cutting where you instructed.

"What?" You ask, already starting to unbraid the piece.

"How... long... do you think your hair is?" Jordan, to be fair to him, does ask the question quietly and with the proper amount of hesitation.

"How dare you! Are you calling me bald?" You gasp, stifling a laugh.

"Don't do this to me. You are prolonging the process. We can cut these braids at least four inches higher than what we're doing right now." Jordan says, you can't see his face but you can tell he's also trying not to laugh. Bastard.

"My hair grew!"

"From the top of your head. It did not magically lower itself further into the fucking braid extension." Jordan loses the battle and laughs.

"Jordan Li do not fucking cut off any of my hair or I'll cry and then blow up this school."

"Of course, princess." Jordan kisses the top of your head and gives in to your terrorist demands because you're cute.

"So how am I supposed to do it, baby?" Jordan claps her hands and you smile at how eager she sounds to help.

"You're gonna want to section it off. Do like... eight parts of hair. That'll make literally every step after this easier. Then you're gonna comb the hair from the bottom, 'kay?"

"Got it."

Jordan starts the process of parting your hair, careful and slow. Fingers sectioning off eight chunks of hair that she keeps apart with the silky hair ties you hand her over your shoulder.

"You sure you don't want me to comb it, Jordie?" You ask Jordan.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry. You always say your shoulders hurt at the end of wash day. Which is crazy, because I've seen what you can bench. I've got you, baby." She spritzes extra detangler spray on each of the parts she just made.

You move around slightly, a little sore already from sitting still between her legs for so long, but smiling to yourself nonetheless. A pillow is suddenly shoved into your face and you lean away, confused.

"Sit on this one instead. It'll be better." Jordan says.

You switch out the pillows and tilt your head back to look at her. "Why're you always right? Is that your kink?"

"No, my kink is bossing you around." Jordan smirks and leans down to give you a kiss. Despite the awkward angle you can't help trying to deepen the contact. The feeling of her soft lips sliding against yours, firm but gentle, is always irresistible.

She hums and gives you a playful nip before pulling away. "Don't start something we can't finish."

"Who says we can't?" You shoot back, staring up at her.

"You will be pissed an hour from now if you glance at your phone and we haven't made any progress." Jordan runs her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing your head forward.

"Who says it will take an hour?"

"I do. If we start, I'm not stopping." Jordan's voice dips seductively and a line of tension runs up the length of your spine.

You smack her thigh for teasing you, "Shut up."

"Is this comfortable?" Jordan frowns, staring at the angle your head has to be at to fit in the bowl of the sink.

"No, but this is the best angle this chair can get me to." You say. Usually you just wash in the shower, but since Jordan is helping the sink makes more sense.

Jordan stands, scowling at how uncomfortable you seem. Suddenly he grins, "Baby! Make a chair with your shields. Something that leans."

You were getting a lot better with being able to make complex shapes, with less concentration. You stand up from the chair you'd dragged from the common room. Jordan pulls it out of the way and gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

It takes you a minute, but you conjure a shield that resembles a salon chair and the both of you let out identical cries of delight.

Jordan pushes you to sit down with a kiss on your forehead. "That's my fucking girl. Tell me if the temperature is too hot."

Jordan washes your hair with the perfect amount of pressure and thoroughness. He's nearly rhythmic in his methodical cleaning. You didn't realize your eyes had fluttered closed until you hear him laugh. You open one eye to glare at him playfully, knowing he won't get soap in them.

"What's so funny?"

"You're like a cat. You gonna purr for me, baby?" He smirks.

"If you keep going like that, yeah. Or I'll fall asleep. Please don't make me fall asleep. I'll fall on my ass." You say.

"I'll endeavor to make the rest of the wash as unpleasant as possible."

He does not do that. And at one point you do fall asleep. Jordan catches you before you can actually fall. 'Thank God for Supe reflexes', you both think. You spend the rest of the wash with your eyes wide open and Jordan laughing at you.

"Did we put too much?" Jordan asks, dabbing at another drip of oil and conditioner down your brow.

"No, this is typical. The hair has to be saturated. It's dripping because the oil is you know... getting hot and even more liquid-y." You say, eyeing the episode of Property Brother's you'd both decided on. "Hm. I think that woman should be put to death."

Jordan was keeping vigilant about dabbing at the sides of your face. You'd been in charge of one side, at first. But Jordan seemed to have a sixth sense for when the other side was dripping as well, and kept interrupting you before you could get to any trickles of oil. You'd given up and just started narrating the show for her as she wasn't taking her eyes off the line of your brow.

"Why? What did she do?" Jordan dabs again.

"She wants to put up a fence that blocks the view of the historical house that she did not have to buy if she wanted a fence so bad." You roll your eyes.

"Is the city gonna let her?"

"No."

"Haha. 500k down the drain." Jordan cackles.

"Anti-gentrification win!" You hold out your fist for a fist-bump and Jordan obediently obliges, oil soaked rag still held in her fist.

A comfortable silence falls over you two, besides the noise of the portable hair dryer.

"I really think we put too much, baby." Jordan mutters, dabbing again.

"I have been doing this since I was twelve, Jordan!"

"Play the video again, one speed slower this time." Jordan's eyes are glued to your phone.

You're sitting between his legs again, cushioned by the (superior) pillow of his choosing. You were trying to decide on a simple hair style when Jordan saw a picture of Mini Twists and got excited to see you in them.

("You've already seen me in mini twists, Jordie. What are you talking about?"

"You weren't my girlfriend the last time you wore them though! Now you are, and I get to look at you as much as I want."

So that had decided that.)

"Okay, I think I got it. 'M gonna start with a braid base, without making the parts too big, then start twisting the hair with two strands, and that will make it last longer, right?"

"Right." You smile at how focused Jordan sounds.

They're hot when they're in the zone. You just didn't think they'd get so into helping you with your hair. But you should have known, really. Acts of service paired with their inner perfectionist? You're completely relaxed at this point. You know Jordan won't have you walking out of your room looking crazy, come hell or high water.

"Is this okay?" Jordan shows you a picture of the back of your head, three rows of twists done.

You gasp, snatching the phone, "That's my head?"

"Uh... yes?" Jordan answers slowly.

"The back of my head? The head on my body?"

"Should I start over?"

"Fuck you! These are almost better than mine. Who's hair are you playing around in when I'm not here, Jordan LI?"

"Stop using my fucking government name." Jordan tilts your head back to look at him with a gentle grip on your neck, grinning down at you. "You play too fucking much. You sure they're good, princess? It's okay if I need to redo them."

"I'm gonna give you orgasms that will make you lose brain cells."

"Baby!" Jordan laughs, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious. Do any of them need redoing?"

"The first row is really fucking good for a beginner but the second row is damn near perfect." You say.

"I'll redo the first row then." Jordan kisses your temple before moving you to face forward again.

"I said they were good!" You protest.

"But the second row is better. I want the whole thing to look good. Don't want you feeling self conscious cause I fucked up the style, y'know." Jordan mumbles.

You tilt your head back to look at him, ignoring him sucking his teeth (a habit he picked up from you) at you moving.

"I love you, Jordie. Thank you for helping me today." You coo.

You watch his face go red with a grin. He grins back, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. When he tries to pull away too soon you whine, holding him close by the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Wanna kiss you. You're sweet." You breathe the words against his lips, insistently continuing the caress.

He sighs, smitten, and let's you lead for a moment. Hand finding it's way back to your neck and tightening just enough to make you gasp. Still, he pulls away too quickly.

"I'm gonna fuck you up." You scowl at him.

"The only thing you're gonna fuck up is your neck, brat. This is a horrible angle for you." Jordan's smile is so soft at the edges it's your turn to blush.

"Speak for yourself."

"No, I'm too busy speaking on behalf of your neck."

"Well, I'm speaking on behalf of my-"

"Pussy?"

"I was going to say raging hormones but that's a lot more to the point, yeah. Or maybe I was going to say something romantic. You ever think of that, Jordie? Huh?"

"Were you going to say something romantic?" Jordan hums.

"No."

"Let me do your hair in peace." Jordan turns you forward again with a laugh.

"Turn this way." Jordan instructs, snapping another picture.

"I don't know whether you're worse than an Instagram hair stylist or a Mom." You ponder, words barely audible because your girlfriend is scary.

"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.

As if engraved into your genetic code the words make you do just that. You suffer through another 20 pictures being taken before you say enough is enough.

Jordan happily shows you the pictures, as if you hadn't seen yourself in the mirror just a minute ago. Or ever. The grin on her face so wide it looks like it hurts.

"You like it, baby?" Jordan asks again.

"It looks so good, Jordie. It looks like I paid someone honestly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You drape your arms around her shoulders. "How's this angle?"

"For what?" Jordan tilts her head to the side, puzzled.

"For kissing. Since you were so worried about the angle before."

Jordan scoffs, but she's the one to pull you in. She doesn't pull away this time.

A/N: i needed reader to have a goofball vibe because i have a goofball vibe. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hi I’ve been thinking about this request for poly!plastics for a while now. So basically everyone knows that Regina gets angry and when she does people just don’t part ways with her. However, y/n is worse especially when she doesn’t get her full sleep which she didn’t get bc Gretchen and Karen were up and loud. (Y/n would never fault them bc she just loves them so much and their quirks). So throughout the school day, everyone has been getting on Y/n nerves like making comments about her girls etc. at lunch time, cady decided to make a “joke” about Karen being dumb, Regina being a bitch, etc and Y/n just explodes. Maybe heavy make out sess or smut after to calm Y/n down.

Slow Boil

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: swearing, reader almost punches Cady, reader has an attitude, little make out session at the end but nothing overly detailed or anything

|| Summary: reader doesn't get enough sleep, the next day people get on her nerves and it pushes her to a boiling point where she snaps at Cady for insulting her girls.

Requests open!

~~~

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You barely got any sleep the night before with Gretchen and Karen being up all night giggling and gossiping. How Regina slept through them... you didn't know, but God you were envious of her sleeping abilities. Though you would never blame or get mad at Gretchen and Karen. You would however be frustrated at yourself for not falling asleep sooner.

The day seemed to drag on. As if seconds were really minutes and minutes were hours. Classes taking too long to complete. In Health & Fitness you just gave up and fell asleep, head rested on your desk with one arm folded around it and other stretched out in front of you. Cady glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

The bell woke you from your sleep and you groaned, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. At least it was lunch. You'd get to see your girlfriends.

"Sleeping beauty rises." Mr. Carr comments, getting a few laughs from some kids in the back. You roll your eyes at him.

"I bet you thought that was clever. Do everyone a favour and keep your damn puns to yourself." Mr. Carr seemed taken aback by your attitude, usually you didn't have one. You were known for being kind and laid back. Not snappy and agitated. For that reason, he decides to let it go. Not without giving you a small warning lecture first. It certainly didn't make your mood any better.

You left the class, a sharp (sleep filled) glare glossing over your eyes as you walk through the halls. Some conversations catching your attention, people seemed to be talking about your girlfriends a lot lately. The things they were saying weren't always positive and that just did nothing to improve your mood. One voice in particular catches your attention. Cady.

You snapped your head in her direction, seeing her chatting with those art freaks Janis and Damien.

"Honestly, Karen's gotta be the dumbest person I've ever met. When I went to Regina's house Regina told Karen she would help her with her eyebrows and Karen asked if she could still have two." Cady talked, Damien and Janis laughed. You could feel your blood boiling," Speaking of Regina, don't even get me started on her. She is such a bi-"

"The next word out of your mouth better fucking be "bi icon" or I swear to every God that's listening..!" You yelled, taking a step towards Cady who froze in place. Damien and Janis exchanged a look.

"Y-Y/N, I didn't think-" You cut Cady off.

"Clearly! What the hell, Cady?! They've been nothing but nice- well, to your face- and this how you repay them?" You were livid. The news about you fighting with Cady quickly spread throughout the school, eventually reaching your girlfriends who sprang into action. Hoping to stop things before it escalated.

Regina got there first and put herself between you and Cady right as you had been about to strike. You pause the moment you see Regina and your arm falls to your side. Gretchen and Karen link their arms around yours and keep you back while Regina sighs.

"Baby, take a breath for me." Regina says, you ignore her and look at Cady. She snaps her fingers in your face," Don't look at her. Look at me."

You listen. Reluctantly.

"Breathe." Regina urges, hand resting on your shoulder. When that doesn't work she grabs you by your wrist and pulls you to the bathroom, Gretchen and Karen quickly following behind.

Once there, they all turn and face you.

"What was all that about?" Gretchen asks.

"Cady was being a total bitch." You mutter, arms folded across your chest.

"You mean like Cady Heron?" Karen looks confused.

"No, KD Mac and Cheese." You snap, then realize who you just snapped at. Regina narrows her eyes at you. Karen frowned and you relaxed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I just- didn't get any sleep last night and my patience has been pushed to the edge today because of it..." You admit in a mumble, hand covering your face as you tilted your head down. You felt bad.

Gretchen took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she moves her hand away from your face. Giving you a deep, soft kiss that you immediately melt into. Hands resting gently around Gretchen to pull her closer. You could feel as your body finally relaxed. Whatever anger you had being washed away.

She broke the kiss and rested her hand to your cheek," Better?"

"I could maybe use a couple more kisses..." You smile sheepishly, looking over at Regina and Karen. Your girlfriends laugh softly and the tension in the room seems to fade.

[tashid4]

11.am

"Dammit" you had just dodged another one of Katsuki's assault, you and him have been fighting for the last 30 minutes in one of UAs training room.

He was always getting on your nerves and so were you. Always fighting and arguing over the most irrelevant things. Got a better grade than him ? Stole your last drink from the fridge ? You both were ready to throw hands.

That's how you ended up here. 11am. Secretly using the room to fix another one of your little fights.

"I'll got you little mouse" he shouted from across the room. "Don't be so confident baby we both know I'll be the one to kick your ass"

"Shut up" he was running towards you, madness in his eyes

The strenght of his explosions threw you to the wall, you coughed a bit but then got surprised,your eyes widen when he grabbed your throat.

"I hate you" he said "I fucking hate you"

you couldn't take your eyes off his. Red as blood, cold as hell. He was so attractive so unpleasant it drove you crazy.

You both stared at each other. Going from eyes to mouth to eyes and mouth again...

In less than a moment his lips were on yours, he was kissing you as if his life depended on it. A condemned man's last meal. Your hands found their place in his hair slightly pulling on it.

"Fuckin hate the way you taste" he kissed you again, only pulling out to catch his breath " The way you walk" " The way you talk" his hands presser harder on your cheeks

"And I hate that you're the only thing I can think about"

He grabbed the back of your thighs inviting you to jump in his arms. You were mesmerized, his lips cursed you. Too afraid that now that you'd had tasted it once you could never let them go.

"Kats wait-" "What happened to your confidence baby" he said, imitating the tone you had previously used.

The kisses you shared became more and more intense. A mix of tongues and teeth bumping again and again. It was so messy but you were definitly enjoying it. Always thought you hated him but now that he was passionately kissing you, you weren't so sure anymore.

"My dorm" you managed to say. A grin appeared on his face and you never found him so attractive as now. Messy hair, swollen lips and lusty eyes...

OKAY SOOOO first time doing this kinda nervous but let me know what you thought of it 😃🙏I might write some more idk

[ellieslittleburrow]

Staining the Winchester car

Summary : You accidently stain John Winchester's car. How's he going to react to that?

Pairings : John Winchester x Daughter!reader

Warnings : mensturation

A/N : Sorry if this isn't how you'd imagined things, yall. I'd personally die if this happened to me so i wanted to do something that's kind of in between.

------

The roads are especially slippery when rain threatened to fall, clouds dominate the skies and paint a bluiesh hue over the landscape.

To some, such times are gloomy and sad but that's not the case for your dad, he always hums to any song that plays on the radio, like the one that's playing now. As he pulls up to the marketplace, you unbuckle your seatbelt and ready yourself to leave.

"Kid, why are you in such a hurry." He chuckles and you just giggle, as you get up. But a sudden tug yanks your shirt downwards, sending you bumping into your father and nearly crashing into the gearbox.

"Uh" You turn around, an accusatory expression etched across your face when you notice the features on your father's. Avoidant eyes, resting eyebrows.

"What?" Your tone is wary. And when your father coughs uncomfortably, your irritation becomes more evident. You want to understand. "Whaat?!!" You whine.

Your father blows a sigh and- "The seat...Your pants are stained...The seat-"

No...

Your fingers slid smoothly over the wetness of the seat, causing your eyes to widen and panic to course through you, followed by shame.

"I-" You stammered ,shifting around , unsure of- "Dad,i'm so sorry-i'm so-so embrrassed i'm so sosrry-fuck-the car."

John Winchester cared way too much about his stupid car, and you just stained it. He'd probably extremely f-

"It's okay- kid hey-"

He doesn't mean that- he fights Dean if the boy leaves a single tissue around.

"No-Dad- i'M sorry-I really am-I"

Liar. Although he sounded thruthfull, you knew that he was lying. He'd kill Dean if the man left a tissue in the car-

"Calm. Down."

"No-I swear-I-"

"HEY-Calm. Down."

His sudden change of tone snaps you out of your panic, forcing you to go quiet. Nonetheless, you turn your back to him and glue your fingers to your lips while resting your chin over your thumb. You're in pure disbelief.

"It's okay." John rubs your back. "It's nothing, kid. I'm not mad at you. Fuck this car. Please calm the hell down."

You sigh, darting your eyes around. you'd apologize again but...

"Here." He places his jacket over your shoulders. "wear this-it will probably cover your jeans well enough. I'll meet you in the room."

---

With your back to the door, you lay on your bed, replaying the moments as if your whole world just collapsed.

"Y/n. Stop it. It's nothing. You're a woman and women go through menstrual cycles and... accidents happen...and--"

"Dad, shut up." You turn to face him. "I can tell you're forcing the words out of your mouth." A dry chuckle leaves your lips and you return back to your initial position, still red-faced.

"Well if you can tell so many things, you can tell that i'm being serious and that i'm not mad or anything. Plus, i got you snacks."

You roll your eyes, turning again. "Like that's going to make things better?" Your eyes shift towards the bag he still held in his hand and raise your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. "And you think i'm gonna eat all that?"

Your dad shrugs. "You might not but at least it'll distract you enough. Relax, kid, okay?"

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@that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @marvelfanfn2187a113

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So sorry for the tardy post :c i get way too anxious sometimes and just become unable to write/edit. Sorry agaiiin ❤❤❤🥀🥀🥀

[creepswrites]

Hi, I just read your hcs about reader struggling with anxiety and depression, it was really great! I am also sorry you're going through tough times rn, I really really hope you'll feel better soon. Tbh I've been going through something myself and reading the Sinclair brothers' hcs, it reminded me of an idea I've wanted to eequest for a long while. I would like to request for the Siclair brothers (separately) x gn!reader headcanons where the reader struggles with mental health issues, but since they don't really leave Ambrose they can't get to their medication. How would they approach the brothers about it, would they hide it, how would the brothers react, you know.

Of course you can work on this when you feel like it, if you're not feeling like it with what's going on in your life. Or scrap the idea altogether, or add whoever you want. Thank you so much for letting me get my thoughts out tho <3 You are valid. You are loved. You are seen.

thank you for the kind wishes, i do appreciate it :) i tried to keep this relatively inclusive as to what exactly reader is suffering from but some stuff may be a lil specific. and don't worry, writing helps distract me so i'm happy to do this <3

SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN! READER WHO NEEDS THEIR MEDICATION

BO SINCLAIR

You absolutely tried to hide it at first. How could you not?

Bo wasn't exactly... understanding about that kind of thing

I mean, you've seen how he acts with Vincent sometimes and thats his own brother. You don't want to imagine how he'd treat you if he knew...

But you knew the longer you went without your prescriptions, the more difficult things would get

It started small. Your moods would change randomly and very drastically - one extreme to another or you'd have trouble sleeping or oversleeping or - your least favorite - you'd lash out at one of the brothers for seemingly nothing

Bo noticed. He didn't say anything about it because he assumed that, if it was that important, you'd tell him

So when you had a full on meltdown on the kitchen floor one afternoon, he was blindsided

He had no idea it'd gotten this bad and, unfortunately, his first reaction was to get mad at you. He yelled at you, tried to get you to pull yourself together. After all, if you had been suffering, you would've told him! Right...?

It's not until your crying abruptly stops that he realizes he fucked up. You shut down on him, near catatonic as he tries to apologize

He's scared. And when he's scared, he lashes out. You know that. It still doesn't make it hurt less

The brothers agree that there needs to be regular trips made so you can get your medication. Lester offers to take you since he's the one who goes to town the most anyways

You and Bo get into an argument about it once or twice because he doesn't understand why you wouldn't tell him

His heart breaks a little when you tell him you didn't think he'd believe you or would look at you differently for it

He reassures you that no, never. He totally understands the moodswings, the angry episodes you have, those things

Once you're on your meds again, you two promise that if anything major like this happens for either of you, that you can always lean on each other

Bo takes time getting there but he grows to understand you and figure out how best to help you!

VINCENT SINCLAIR

You tell Vincent pretty early on that you need medication

While you don't give him many specifics as to why, you tell him that life will be better for all of you if you keep taking them

At first he's a little apprehensive of letting you go into town so Bo goes with you to pick it up

Not because he doesn't believe you! But because he's scared you're still trying to escape

He wants to know what they're for so he's not above snooping around to read the labels

(You'd tell him if he asked but he didn't know that)

The amount you take surprises him and he tries to think about what you're like off them, in a morbidly curious way

He is, however, insistent that you're taking them consistently and without interruption. Vince makes sure you take them every day and gets on his brother's cases if they give you a hard time about it

They're not cures though. You both find that out the hard way when he finds you trembling in the corner of his shop like you were in freezing weather. The panic attack was violent and took you by surprise but Vincent holds steady

He sits with you, humming soft melodies to try and ground you

When you're ready, he hugs you and you just break down into tears. You'd never wanted him to have to see you like this, you don't want him to think you're some fragile china doll who can't take care of themself

But he would never see you like that. You explain that, while the meds make them less frequent, you're not cured completely

Things will slip through the cracks sometimes and that's okay! He'll always be there when you need him

When he catches you scratching yourself anxiously, he buys you gloves and makes sure you keep your nails short

He catches you picking at your face and gets you small bandages you can place over the spots so you don't obsessively pick

Vincent is always doing little things to try and improve your quality of life, even if you're taking medication!

LESTER SINCLAIR

You don't really tell him but you also don't hide it from him either

He notices you taking pills every morning and every night and is able to put two and two together

Probably asks you what they're for once you two have been dating for a bit but it doesn't really change much in your relationship

He's relatively chill about it though and offers to take you into town to pick up your meds

Likes to hoard pills for you so you never run out - it's an irrational fear of his but you think its sweet

Whenever you get sad, Jonesy and Lester are both right there to comfort you however you need

Sometimes, when the bad thoughts get too loud, Lester catches you staring vacantly into the bathroom mirror or out windows and he worries

One night you wandered out into the woods, barefoot and freezing, just because you felt so out of touch with your own body

Everything felt fake and floaty and you just needed to be out somewhere harsh and grounding and real

You love Lester, you really do, but there, in the forest all alone, all you could think about was how empty you felt

He finds you early the next morning and he was clearly worried sick, still in his sleep clothes with just a flashlight and an anxious Jonesy

Once at home and warm from your shower, he pleads with you to talk to him about it

You finally spill about how you've felt completely dissociated from yourself, even with all the meds you're taking, and it just got to be too much

He gives you a hug and you both agree to try and find other ways to shock you back to reality that don't involve you wandering into the forest at night

Turns out, an ice cube on the back of the neck works wonders to snap you out of whatever stupor you've found yourself in!

Lester is as involved with it as you'd let him. Never ashamed or afraid to lend you a hand with anything!