#Mind-wiped 47

[theemporium]

don't usually request but you hit 10k on my birthday and i had something on my mind

maybe some slow build up of smut-berry with 47 for oscar where they couldn't celebrate her birthday because of the australian grand prix falling on the same weekend and her family wanted to be with her, so when they see each other again he decides to do everything he can to make it up to her...

idk i love ur writing 🧡

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

47. “You heard me. I want you to sit on my face.”

.

Oscar loved being a Formula One driver. 

It was his ultimate dream as a kid and now it was a reality. He knew he was luckier than most, getting to a job he loved so dearly. And he knew not many people even made it to Formula One and stayed. But he was lucky and he never took it for granted, even if there were downsides to the job. 

The media wasn’t his favourite thing in the world. And the conferences and interviews got a bit tedious every other weekend. The constant jet lag also wasn’t ideal. And he didn’t really fully grasp the world fame sometimes, it was hard to forget he was just another guy showing up at his job every weekend. 

But the worst was the important dates and events he missed because of his job. The events and duties he could not get out of no matter what because they were a part of his contract. He missed out on important things for the most important people in his life. 

Like your birthday. 

“M’sorry,” Oscar apologised for the umpteenth time as he laid in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling above him as he held his phone to his ear. “I really tried to find a way out of it but Zak said no and—”

“Oscar, baby, it’s okay,” you smiled softly as you leaned back in your seat, a cup of coffee in your hand. “I know you would be here if you could. I promise I don’t mind, it just means we can have our own celebration later.” 

His lips twitched at the thought. “I am gonna give you the best late-birthday party ever.” 

You hummed. “Oh yeah? Tell me about it, Piastri.” 

“Gonna book us to go away somewhere,” Oscar said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Somewhere we can hide. Just me and you and the sun.” 

“That sounds nice,” you sighed, almost wistfully. “It’s raining here.”

“No rain, promise,” he assured you. “Every night we are there, we will dress up and go out. I’ll even wear that shirt you really like—the black one.” 

“Oh, you’re spoiling me,” you teased but your smile only widened as you continued to listen.” 

“Maybe try some new things as well,” Oscar continued as he closed his eyes, listening to hum as a way to tell him to elaborate. “Maybe we can go paragliding. Or go on a safari. Maybe you can sit on my face.” 

You spluttered, your eyes widening in response as you quickly placed your coffee cup down and wiped your hand across your face. “Oscar!” 

He tried not to smile. “What?” 

“You—” You cleared your throat a little, your cheeks burning as you tried to find your words. “Huh?” 

“You heard me. I want you to sit on my face,” Oscar said, deadpan and so-Oscar that it made your head spin a little knowing he was dead serious. “Think you’ll look really pretty from that angle, perfect for the birthday girl.”

You shook your head. “You need to be muzzled.” 

“We can try that too, if that’s something you’re into,” Oscar retorted, laughing a little when you let out another incoherent squeak. “Don’t die, baby, we have a holiday to look forward to together.”

“Fuck off, Piastri.” 

“We are gonna do a lot of fucking—”

“Oscar!”

.

[russo-woso]

could you do prompts 46 and 47 for alessia russo?

Prompt link here.

Stay || Alessia Russo

Breaking up with Alessia had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to go through.

At the end of the day, you still loved Alessia with your whole heart and you knew she still loved you.

However, with the continuous overlap of your busy schedules, you playing for Chelsea and her playing for Arsenal, meant that the both of you couldn’t spare anytime for each other, no matter how hard you tried to.

If she had training on a Tuesday morning, you’d have it on a Tuesday afternoon.

She had a match Saturday afternoon, you had an away match on Sunday morning.

She had team bonding on a Friday night, often staying up late and having a lay in on Saturday morning, and you then having training Saturday morning and then team bonding on Saturday nights.

The worst thing was that you felt like Alessia didn’t try. She tried, but not as hard as you did.

It didn’t work. No matter how hard you tried to make it work, it just couldn’t.

So when you and Alessia sat down to talk, it ended with you walking out of the house to stay with Niamh.

It killed you knowing that Alessia wasn’t yours anymore, but it was a choice you’d both made, more so you, hoping it would make you both happier.

But it didn’t.

After not getting out of bed for anything apart from training, everyone could see the visible effect the breakup had on you.

Niamh ended up ringing Lotte to check to see if Alessia was feeling the same and to no surprise, Alessia had been slumped in bed all week, only coming out for training.

At training, the girls saw the exhaustion in your eyes, the constant sadness on your face, and after two weeks of you having no emotion apart from sadness, the girls knew they had to do something.

Niamh paired up with Lotte and Leah in hopes of figuring something out.

Eventually, after planning something over a coffee, they came up with the perfect plan.

It just so happened that a miracle had happened over the course of the past few days that could change everything.

Emma hayes had officially left, and that came with a variety of different changes.

One morning, when Niamh started banging on your door (a normal occurrence) she opened it to find you sniffling and curled up in a ball, a picture of you and Alessia resting next to you.

Normally, she’d see you and leave you alone, but this time she didn’t.

This time she urged you to get up, taking the picture and putting it on your end side table, helping you get out of bed.

“We’re going out today.” Niamh told you and before you could fight back, she cut you off. “There’s no saying no today, okay?”

“Fine.” You mumbled, wiping sleep away from your eyes.

What you didn’t know was the exact same thing was happening with Alessia and Lotte.

—

After a day full of shopping, looking for the perfect outfit, Niamh spring it upon you that you were going out drinking that night.

Niamh lied saying that it was to take your mind off everything and you believed that, but actually, it was all part of the plan.

Arriving at the bar, you found a booth in the corner, Niamh going to buy the first round of drinks.

After only ten minutes of being there, you looked around to see someone you didn’t expect to.

Her blonde hair was down perfectly, the outfit she wore was perfect, Alessia was perfect.

But the face she wore didn’t.

A frown was evident on her face along with tear stained cheeks that had been desperately covered by her makeup but was still clear to you.

“Niamh…”

“Go talk to her, Y/N. You both need to talk.” Niamh encouraged you, and you slowly nodded, accepting she was right.

Before you could even stand up, Alessia was making her way over, Lotte clearly encouraging her too.

“Can we talk?” Alessia asked, her voice breaking.

“Yeah. Sit down.” You told her, your eyebrows furrowing to try stop you from crying.

In the meantime, Niamh had left the booth, making her way over to Lotte as they took a seat on the other side of the bar, staring hopefully at the encounter between you and Alessia.

“I never wanted to break up.” Alessia announced, her eyes welling up.

“I didn’t either.” You told her. “I thought it would be better for us, but the only thing I’ve been able to do these past weeks is cry. It has been so hard without you.”

“I know. Please come back, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll try harder.” Alessia cried, and you took your hand in hers.

“Less, my trainings changed to the same timing as yours. The new manager has changed it all. We can try again. We’ll be able to spend time with each other.” You told her

“Oh my god.” Alessia breathed out, the reality of what could happen settling in. The two of you could actually spend more than an hour a day with each other. “I’m so sorry, love. I wish I tried harder. I wish-”

“-Lessi, it’s okay. It’s what happens now that is important.”

The two of you learned forward, connecting your lips, emotions from the past weeks being poured into the kiss.

Cheers from Lotte and Niamh could be heard from across the bar and you and Alessia laughed, pulling away from the kiss.

“They planned this, didn’t they?” You asked, still giggling.

“I think so.”

Alessia connected her lips with yours once again.

This time around, there was a sense of hope.

Hope that everything would go perfectly.

[negansfavlucille01]

THE NEW WIFE

Negan × f!reader

Summary: Negan and the reader were having a "romantic" dinner in his office, leading to Negan's bedroom

Warnings: Spanking, Unprotected p in v, choking, rough sex, swearing, creampie, squirting, shitty smut, negan missing reader's birthday

Word count: 1,5K

After the lineup, Negan took Y/N with him back to the Sanctuary with the intention of making her his wife. He knew she was young, of course, but she wasn't a kid anymore. Wanting to make it easier on the group, she went with him, even tho she hated his guts. Well, of course, who wouldn't after what he did? It took a few weeks to get her to relax and open up. Still hesitant, she always backed away when he got too close. Anyhow, slowly, she started developing feelings for him. It was wrong. She knew that. But he was so handsome and charming. And he knew that, so he used it against her.

Finally, she gave in and became his wife. At first, it was weird. She was still backing away and not letting him touch her. But he wanted her so bad. So bad that he was willing to wait for her to come around. He often invited her to dinners in his room or just something to do to get her to lose up. Sometimes, she refused, and sometimes, more rarely, she accepted.

"So, how old? Exactly." He asked as he ate from his spaghetti.

They were sitting in his office, on the big table. Negan made sure to get the best wine on his last supply run, so here they were, eating the spaghetti he made and drinking the wine. She was sitting on the opposite of him, looking at her plate. Then, she lifted her head. "Your mom never taught you that you should never fucking ask women for their age?"

"She did. But, cmon..." He grinned, sipping from his glass.

"Turned 20 yesterday."

He choked on the wine, his eyes widening. Slowly reaching for the tissue placed next to his plate and wiping his face, he spoke lowly. "You didn't tell me. Why? I didn't wanna fucking miss it!"

"Well, I thought you'd know your wife's birthday..." She laughed, clearly teasing him. "But when you got so many wives, you probably can't keep up."

He gave her an arrogant smile, setting his glass back on the table. "Wow, I didn't know you were this funny!"

"Why, thank you. But for real, maybe if you were focusing on what I was telling you instead of always staring at my tits and looking for a way to get me in your bed, you would've known." She shrugged.

His eye narrowed, and he looked away for a second. He adjusted in his seat. "I listened to every damn word you said, Y/N. And I know you never told me your birthday."

"Right... And did you remember it?"

"Uh-huh. Your dad left when you were 3, and your mom died the first day of the apocalypse. You were left with Daryl and Merle. I know what school you went to. I know your best friend's name. I know whatever you told me. And it's bad to assume I'm in just for the sex."

"You're telling me what's bad?"

"Yes, I am. I thought we were over this."

"Fine.." She crossed her arms and looked at her lap as he scoffed. "So.. how old are you?"

"47."

"You look older." She laughed.

He glared at her, then kicked her under the table. Y/N bit her lip to not make any noises. "Thank you. And you look 6. Act like it, too..."

"Fuck you." She spat at him, her eyes narrowing.

Negan stayed quiet, wondering if he should say what came to his mind. He licked his lips, and spoke after a short moment. "You wanna?"

"... Maybe." She mumbled under her nose. Negan stood up and walked around the table, getting to her. When he did, he ran his fingertips on her bare shoulder in the dress she was wearing. He leaned down, whispering in her ear.

"You should've just said so..." He kissed gently under her ear and chuckled. "Let's go."

She turned around in the chair, facing him. "Where?"

"WhErE?" He mocked her and chuckled. Taking her hand, he urged her to stand up. "My room, of course..."

She followed, his hand in hers. They walked out of the meeting room and down the hallway until Negan opened his room's door. The room was decent. Luxury for the apocalypse. King-sized bed and two leather couches, in between them a table.

"Should've known..." She smiled at him. "That you have all the luxury..."

"Yeah, well, what can I say..." He grinned as he wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her close. His eyes wandered on hers for a minute before he pressed his lips on hers. Soft moans escaped her mouth as his tongue slipped in her mouth. Suddenly, she felt her feet leaving the ground and she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. His groin pressed against her wetness and they both groaned. Negan crawled on the bed with her and laid her down. He stood on his knees and reached to remove his boots. "You have no idea what you got yourself in.."

Y/N kicked off her heels as Negan threw his leather jacked on the floor. He then leaned over her again and grabbed her jaw, kissing her roughly. Her hand slid down his body until it reached his erection and squeezed it gently. He grunted in her mouth and pulled away, smirking. "Just curious..."

"Right..." Negan pulled the dress off with one quick motion. He licked his lip as he stared at her body in the white lace bra with blue flowers on it, which matched with her panties. "That's just fucking slutty, baby.."

"Shut up."

“Never.” He mumbles against her neck between kisses, his hands trailing over her breast over the bra, feeling the warmth of her body against him. He moves his mouth back up to hers and kisses her passionately again, nipping gently on her bottom lip with his teeth.

"You're an ass." He smiles before his lips leave her mouth and move to her stomach, planting kisses up and down it, his soft lips on her skin, his beard tickling her occasionally as well. He moves back up to her face and smiles down at her and rests his hands on her ass, gently rubbing it with his thumbs. "No, please, I need you."

Her desperate whines sent him over the edge and he quickly unbuckled his belt, sliding down his pants along with his boxers. It was big. Huge, even. Her mouth dropped open and she drooled. It was super hard, the tip red and swollen. Thick veins running down his shaft. "Wow.."

"Surprised?"

"I always knew you were packing, but.." He chuckled as she started stroking it. Her touch was all he needed for the pre-cum to drip out. He grabbed her harshly and turned her over, settling her on all fours. Without a warning, he slammed in her, making her scream out.

"What, that feel good?" He smirked arrogantly and started pounding her from behind. His balls slapped against her clit as she moaned. Reaching out, Negan wrapped his fingers around her throat, gripping hard. Y/N's eyes filled with tears when she couldn't take a breath. With each thrust, there was a groan coming from Negan and a scream from Y/N. A harsh slap landed on her right butt cheek. "I asked you a question."

"Yes! God, yes.. It does feel good...!" She whined. Negan's thrusts didn't slow down, if anything, they got faster. "Negan... I can't.. breathe.."

He released her, showing some mercy. Her walls clenched around his cock, making him lose his mind. The feeling of her was spongy and tight like no other pussy. Reaching over, he rubbed her clit roughly with his thumb while his middle and ring finger went to her pussy, adding to his cock like it wasn't big enough. "You're gonna cum all over my cock like a good little fuckin whore?"

"Yes." She whined.

"Say it." He grunted, keeping up his fast pounding. He looked down, seeing her ass juggle and bounce with each move he made. It was already red, put he decided to add another smack just for his pleasure.

"I'm gonna cum all over you cock like a good little fuckin slut.." She barely managed to finish before squirting all over his cock and fingers. He started moving his fingers in rhythm with his cock even after she came. His cock throbbed hard and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hot seed burst into her dripping cunt, make it his. She looked over her shoulder, seeing him with his head thrown back, his mouth slightly open and his eyes shut. The moans coming from his mouth were the hottest she'd ever heard.

He dropped beside her, breathing heavily as she barely managed to turn on her back. "Goddamn, that pussy is my new favorite.."

"Bet you say that to all of your wives." She stared at the ceiling.

"You'd be surprised then.." Negan took her chin in his hand and made her look at him. "You see... I was thinking about dropping them for you..."

[wxxpingangxls]

Dirty Diana

+synposis; once again, your husband is too busy for your 16th annerversary, and to add to your dismay, your pipes have bursts. so now you have to call the local plumber to help fix your leaky pipes...

+content/warnings; black reader but no explicit description, age gap( Gojo is 26, reader is 47), whiny Gojo, needy reader, teasing, multiple rounds, creampie, reader is a MILF, Gojo's divorced, slight power play, reader is more on the dom side, Gojo is smitten over reader, oral - fem receiving-, cowgirl

+pairings; Firefighter!Gojo x MILF!black fem reader

being married to a business man who was constanlty at work was fun at first. with yearly strips to ski resorts and monthly weekends away to the smiling and tropical coast. but after your two children had gone away to college and your third and fourth were in the last years of highschool, you became lonely.

"i know i know, i promised but you have to understand that the meeting was pushed back and we still don't have the arrangements for the business trip. i promise i'll-" you cut off the phone before he could make another empty promise. you huffed, groaning as you faced the cold dinner you'd made for the two of you. it was the first meal you ever made for him when you guys first moved in together and unsurprisingly his favourite.

you walked back into the kitchen to pour yourself more of that special wine you saved for this day. you stared at the sink for a bit, letting your mind drift off, the empty night sky bringing tranquility to your mind. however, amoung hearing the sound of rushing water, you looked down to see water from the bottom of the sink rushing to your feet.

you quickly scurried to the far side of the room, silently cursing under your breath. Your house slippers were soaked. you grabbed your landline to phone your local plumber. much to your dismay, he was all booked out for tonight and you couldn't wait until the morning, however he mentioned something about phoning in the local fire station as most of the men were trained to deal with plumbing issues.

you placed your full wine glass down upon hearing the door bell ring. you checked yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall, running your hands through your hair and wiping the lip stik off the side of your cheek, making sure you were decent.

"uh…ms Y/N?" the tired man asks, his eyes hanging low as his peered at your appearance. to say you were an attractive woman was an understatement. your hair hung in loose curls that framed your face and your light blue nightgown accentuated your body shape. your baby blue silk robe seemed to flow and shift in elegance and grace. "this is she, are you gojo?"

"yeah... satoru gojo. i heard you've got a leaky pipe." he gestured towards the toolbox he carried with him. he shlyly followed your lead into the kitchen occasionally leering down watching your ass through the light fabric of the robe, his own shoes thumping to the beat of your own, matching house slippers clicking against the tiled floors.

"just what i thought, a loose pipe." he said grunting as he reached for his wrench. "you want sum' to drink, gojo?" you asked shoving the half empty wine bottle in his face. you were bored, alone and borderline drunk.

he chuckled before shaking his head. "drink on the job? nah, no thank you," he sat up before he looked down and huffed. "oh come on, it's terrible drinking alone," you whine, slightly slurring your words, trying to convince the sexy young man to say a little longer. his sunken blue eyes bore into yours suspiciously. "you're alone? i thought i saw to dinner plates on the dining table," a sour expression immediately replaced your hopeful one.

"oh right. it's my anniversary, but my husband got 'caught up' at work again," you huffed out annoyed.

"you're married?"

"why are you surprised?"

"m'not...just asking," he shurgged.

gojo thought for a while. ever since his divorce, he hadn't come home to a freshly made meal. however he was here strictly for business and he needed to remember that. "well, if your husband isn't here, why let the food go to waste?" he smiled cheekily at you. your eyes lit up. it had been months since you'd ate with someone else. he smiled to himself as he watched you grab the dinner plate and popped it in the microwave. "and about that wine, why don't you pour me a glass to go with it,"

"my eldest was an easy baby. look, she didn't even cry when we pierced her ears," you pointed to the old picture of your daughter as gojo reached over to see your child in her infant years.

"wish i could say the same. last time i saw my girl, she was always crying," he laughed light-heartedly before becoming silent as he saw your puzzled expression. "divorce. my wife got full custody," he shrugged, running his fingers through his hair white hair.

“you’re divorced? you’re pretty young…what age did you get married?” you asked inquiringly.

“i was 19, between me and you, i didn't know what i was thinking," he replied.

you didn't pry further. you moved over to his side, rubbing his shoulders as you bent over, silently reasaurring him. "i'll get more wine. here lemme take your plate," you whispered, taking the empty glass from his hand, your breath lingering around the back of his ear.

as you scrubbed the plate clean, you felt hot breath fan against your neck. "gojo, what are you doing?" you gasped as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

"don't act like your legs weren't rubbing agaisnt each other the minute we sat down," his lips moved up and down your neck sensually, moving in a rhythm that had you dripping through your laced panties as he groaned in response. "gojo, we shouldn't, its not right..." you protested, however you made no attempt to get away from his grasp, even as his grip tightened. "i'm a married woman,"

"married to a man who doesn't love you enough,"

"what do you know about my relationship?" you questioned hastly.

"well, for one, you never mentioned a husband yet your all dressed up waiting for company of some kind,"

"hmm, your smart for such a young person," you giggled, feeling caught out.

"you're so under appreciated in your own home. if i were your husband, you'd never feel alone again," he sighed in your ear before planting a kiss behind it. you whined as you subconsciously rubbed against his throbbing bulge. "goj-"

"call me satoru, please," he spun you around with one hand to face him.

his chiselled face moved closer to yours and for the first time you could smell his cologne. hints of sandalwood, spice and jasmine tickled your nose in the most sensual way. your eyes locked for a moment, before you looked away. it had been so long since you'd felt the touch of your husband let alone a man. the sexual tension increased with every second you guys took staring into each others eyes.

he soft lips brushed against yours as he looked you in your eyes, your foreheads touching. "if you don't want this, just say the words. say the words and i'll leave right now. this would be our little secret," he whispered. you searched his eyes, but all you saw was a sparkle. a certain sparkle he hadn't had in years. a certain sparkle you haven't seen in years.

his warm tongue swirled in your mouth as his hand cupped your aching cunt. his other hand was at the back of your head as the two of you sloppily made out. your hands cupped his face, caressing it in your soft hands. you groaned into the kiss as he pressed a finger against your clothes clit. "m'gonna make you feel s'good," he whined as he broke the kiss, moving down to your neck. you whined as he pulled his hand from your underwear. he took of his jacket revealing his broad shoulders and wide chest hidden beneath a white wife beater. his veins popping out with every movement he made. "come here," he whispered eagerly holding out his arms for you to jump in. he lifted you onto the counter, his tender lips somehow making their way back to yours again.

you watched eagerly as he lowered himself, face to face with your dripping hole. "look at you. she hasn't been fucked in weeks, has she?" he sniggered as he watched your face drop. he'd gone from a well mannered service provider to a man with a fucking filthy mouth. maybe you'll keep him around longer.

your thoughts were interrupted by a warm and wet tongue lapping against your clothed cunt. "gojo...!" you squealed instinctively reaching to grab on his hair and shut your legs around his head. he laughed at your reaction, the vibrations stimulating your cunt further. he simply just ripped your legs apart with his big strong arms. "keep still f'me," he demanded. you whined but nonetheless followed his instructions.

his mouth reattached itself to your sopping pussy as he continued lapping. he made sure to suck and nibble on your throbbing clit even through your lacey blue panties. you groaned as his fingers moved to play around and rub your slit. you huffed, your sensitive pussy twitching around an empty space. your legs started to twitch as he moved his fingers towards your clit, rubbing firm circles. "wow, you close already? so filthy..." he whispered condescendingly. "satoru...!" you pulled harder at his hair as his fingered moved faster.

your legs began shaking as it became too much too quickly. "what is it, baby? you gonna come for me, yeah?" he watches as you gasp and attempt to close your legs around his hand. but he was just too strong. you gasped as he moved his hand, leaving on the edge of your orgasm.

"what the hell?" you shot up from the counter. "be patient. i said i'd make you feel good, didn't i?" he raised a brow whilst unbuckling his cargo pants and dropping his drawls. they fell to the floor as his hot bulge made your pussy leak even more. "fuck..." he sighed, finally getting his dick free. curly white pubes dusted his pelvis. he pumped his cock a few times, smearing the pre-cum all over.

he pulled your panties off, slick sticking to your foiled panties. his thumb and index pulled your lips apart, watching as your stringing arousal stuck them together and your hole clench around the cool air. "how long since you been eaten out, babe?" he asks.

"what?" you sigh, too cock hungry to register his question. your whining gave him all he needed to know. he clicked his tongue before wrapping his lips around the sore bud. his large hands held your thighs open, as wide as they could go. you squealed as his tongue lapped against your cunt.

the only time he broke away was to spit on your filthy hole, watching as it dripped down to your clenching asshole. he was sloppy. and messy. and loud. he groaned in encouragement, making sure to make a mess out of your sopping cunt. "yes satoru! just like that... m'fuck! you're so good for me..."you cried out in ecstasy as he brought his mouth to your clit again, this time making sure to suck hard. he shook his head from side to side, eliciting a high pitched moan from your mouth. "satoru!" you moaned out loud at the stranger in your home from the sensitivity of it all.

"fuck...sator- m'so close" he groaned his response as your brows furrowed and your eyes glossed over in bliss. your hips buckled against his mouth despite him trying to hold you still. "stop squirming, pretty lady," he grumbled. "look at the way she's talking to me. she's just begging to cum," he squinted before bringing you right into his mouth again and holding you there. "come on baby," he spat on your cunt before diving in further. "wait- wait- sat-oru..." you wailed, attempting to push his head away.

your cunt wasn't used to the stimulation of being sloppily eaten. the sensitivity was getting to you fast. tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes as you began sniffing. his grip tightened on you as you squirmed harder. your legs shook and twitched around his head.

"gojo! slow down, please!" he smiled as he watched you writhe in his tight hold. your stomach tightened and your breathe hitched. your toes started curling as you arched your back and pulled his hair for dear life. your held your breath as you came all over his face. "yeah...that's it, just like that," he watched as your legs spasmed and your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled mindlessly out of your mouth. "fuck..." you slurred slowly coming back to your senses. he pulled away and closely watched you come down from your high as he slowly rubbed on your sore clit.

"hah...that was s'good..." you breathed.

"i told you i'd make you feel good," he whispered as he took your hand in his and took your shaky figure into the living room. his large hand wrapped around your waist. he sat upright on the sofa beckoning you towards his lap. you sat in between his open legs. "ride me baby, show me how much you've missed having a dick inside of you," he leered at your figure towering over him. you discarded the silk robe and kneeled over his stiff cock.

"now, baby, you ever been ridden so good, you're holding back tears?" you stare into his eyes for a bit. he smirked before rubbing your back. he saw the determination in your eyes, his face dropping at the realisation. "no..." he finally huffed out.

"well you know what they say. there's a first time for everything," you took his hefty cock in your hands, pumping it a few times before sinking down.

you winced in unison, your tight walls squeezing on his throbbing dick. he was thick and girthy. hitting you in all the right places. he had you drooling already. he tapped you thigh, breaking you from your dicked hungry state. "wow, you really haven't been fucked in a while," he chuckled cheekly.

"you know, for someone who can't handle me, you really are mouthy. you know what happens to mouthy boys?" you snickered.

"what..?" he replied, his lips pursing in anxiety and trepidation.

"they get punished, for having a sharp mouth," as you were speaking, you could feel his hips slowing shifting, trying to gain some friction inside your warm walls. "uh-uh, i'm not done with you," you grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks together.

"please...i'll-i'll be good, i'll shut up!" he pleaded.

his negotiations were pathetic to say the least. you hummed in acknowledgement, your own juices leaking down in eagerness.

you started grinding your hips, experimenting with different paces. his hand remained on your hips, before you started to bounce up and down. "thank you..." he sighed, watching your body move up and down, fucking yourself on his aching cock. "you like that, yeah?" you asked, steadying yourself by holding his shoulders. his hand moved down to your ass before landing a heavy handed smack. he rubbed on the sore skin, before squeezing it in his hands. "fuck yeah, i love it," he whined, his hips buckling.

you laughed breathlessly however your pace never faltered. his grip tightened as you began to gain in speed. your gummy walls gripped on his eager dick, clenching tightly. you gasped upon feeling his cock meet your hips. your wet cunt made it easy for kento to thrust up into you and he made sure you knew.

"hah...fuck satoru..." you cried looking down at him. his eyes were glossed over in a cloud of lust and hunger. "you feel so good, thank you!" his fingers moved towards your clit, rubbing firm circles on the bud. he noticed the shift in your pace as your legs started trembling slightly.

"keep going, come on," he huffed sexily moving the hair from his face, with his free hand. you winced as his pace quickened. "fuck, keep squeezing me like that," he whined, throwing his head back. "fuck Y/N..." his fingers continued to play with your clit while his other hand landed another sharp slap onto your ass.

your eyes rolled into your skull as his hips angled towards the spongey spot deep in your cunt. "fuck!" you whine. your legs buckle as he watches you fall. "oh you like that?" he chuckles lowly, visibly taken aback.

"yes yes yes! fuck satoru!" your eyes roll back as his pace quickens. he fucks himself into you hissing every time you clench down on him.

"gojo, m'close!" you gasped, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he watched from below as your face contorted into that of bliss as he kept hitting that same spot. "just like that," your cunt squelched with every thrust he had to give you. your tummy churned as his dick pummelled your gummy walls. your slick was running down your leg as you let out babbles and moans of pure nonsense. you legs began to spasm as you started drooling. "whose pussy is making you feel good?" you said through breaths.

"huh?" he whined too pussy whipped to comprehend anything. you grabbed his face in your hands so his eyes were on you and no one else, "whose. pussy. is. making. you. feel. this. good?" you said firmly in between breaths.

"yours Y/N, your pussy makes me feel so good." he wailed loud enough for neighbours to hear. "there's a good boy," his large arm wrapped around your waist, holding you still against his hips.

your babbles increased in pitch and your legs grew limp. "you close baby?" you asked raising a brow.

he nodded eagerly. "use you words f'me. tell me how bad you wanna cum,"

"uh huh, uh huh, want it so bad ms Y/N!"

your toes curled and uncurled as gojo kept his hips at the angle that had you coming undone. "yes fuck, there's a good boy...!" you babble out nodding your head, tears stinging in your eyes.

"fuck, you're too tight, loosen up f'me," he whined, his hips were stuttering as he tried to move but you were just too tight. you were too fucked out on his hefty cock to even acknowledge his comment. "Y/N, you need to relax.." his voice became higher in pitch as he continued to thrust into your tight hole.

his thrust became sloppy and inconsistant as his legs started to spasm. "m'gonna cum," he huffed, thick cock throbbing inside of you. "do it inside pretty boy!" you instructed.

"inside? you want it inside? what if you get pregnant?" he stammered.

"dammit gojo, just cum inside me!"

he nodded feverishly, sniffling as tears from over sensitivity started to sting in his eyes. his hips stuttered one last time before he came in your sore cunt.

his eyes rolled back as he huffed. his arm around your waist tightened as he began to pull out. your cunt oozed with a mixture of your slick, cum and his cum. "yeah, that's it...look at that. i'm just leaking,"your filthy mouth was back at work as the creampie ran down your leg.

he slid his tip between your folds smearing the mess everywhere. his thick cock left your aching hole gaping as he kissed your forehead. as you leaned in to kiss all over his face, the landline rung. "i'll go get the phone," you sighed that such a sensual moment was being ruined.

"hello?"

"hey honey, how would you feel about a trip to a resort in Bali for a week?" your husband suggested as an apology for missing your anniversary. you thought for a moment before facing the firefighter in your home. he lay on the sofa, smiling goofily to himself, with one hand placed behind his head.

"sure, why not."

"and again, i'm sorry i missed our anniversary, i won't happen again." he chuckled from the other side of the phone. you did start to feel guilty about sleeping with another man when you have a hard working husband, but then again, your own husband was out having his own escapades with various other women you weren't aware about. "i'm sure i won't," you replied slyly before hanging up the landline.

you walked over to the nasty fireman before sitting back in his lap.

"round 2?"

"i thought you'd never ask..."

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 45: Big News

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Reader (24)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

A few days later, Cillian and you made your way to your parents' house, which was a four hour drive  north of London. You had decided that the weekend trip would provide a good opportunity to break the news to your parents, especially since your mother would be able to help you sort through your pregnancy emotions, although Cillian was worried about their reaction and rightfully so. 

The drive up was uneventful, save for the tension that hung heavily between the two of you as neither of you knew quite how to broach the topic of the forthcoming conversation. You could sense that Cillian was anxious and apprehensive, his state of mind reflected in the rigid set of his jaw and the tightly clenched fist resting on the steering wheel.

"Your father doesn't have a shotgun or something, does he?"  Cillian eventually broke the silence, raising an eyebrow questioningly as you both pulled up to your parents' small townhouse. 

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "No, he is a good god-fearing man who does not approve of violence of any kind," you assured him with a confidence that betrayed the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

Cillian nodded curtly, his response not entirely convincing, but you knew he understood the gravity of the situation and respected your father enough to not overreact. He tried to remain calm and, even though that was difficult, the fact that he was an actor helped. 

As you exited the car, you made your way up to the front door of your childhood home, your heart pounding in your chest anxiously, but when the door opened for you both, you were caught by surprise.

"Nan?" you  asked, perplexed by the sight of your grandmother standing in the entrance hall. She hugged you tight, wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks with the back of her hand.

"What are you doing here?" you asked her excitedly, seeing how you had not seen her in a while. She had moved to Australia a few years ago and you never went to visit her, due to the costs involved.

"Well, I am here on a vacation and your mother organised for me to suprise you my sweet child,"  she replied, taking her time to look Cillian up and down as if summing him up. "And you must be Cillian?"  your grandmother asked, extending her hand to greet him politely. Cillian took it warmly and nodded his head in agreement, flashing her a charming smile before she turned back to you with a knowing look.

"He is handsome. Just like in the movies," she  mused, eyeing Cillian appreciatively before turning her attention back to you both, watching you chuckle.

"He sure is," you giggled just as your mother and father came out to greet you as well.  There were hugs and handshakes all around, the atmosphere warm and welcoming, but you knew it would be short-lived, especially once you broke the news to them.

"So, how was the drive?" your mother asked politely while Cillian shook your father's hand, the tension between them palpable.  

"Not bad actually. Cillian drove the entire way, and I slept some of it," you smiled  , glancing at Cillian, who was still tracking every movement of your parents, clearly feeling uncomfortable around them. 

Your father grunted noncommittally, ignoring Cillian's presence for a moment before turning his attention back to you. "So, how have you been?" he asked warmly, breaking the tension somewhat.

"Good," you  replied with a small smile, not revealing too much as your mother served up some homemade lemonade. 

Meanwhile, your grandmother kept stealing glances at Cillian, sizing him up silently, and then turned her gaze to you, studying your interaction closely. "Y/N my dear, you look so wonderful. You are glowing," she said, intrigued, but happy. 

"You do look good, which wasn't what I had expected after the shit Max pulled," your father grunted, causing Cillian to sigh.

"Dad, please. Let's not bring that up," you reminded him while your mother gave your father a stern look. 

Cillian, meanwhile, looked a little lost, as you all made your way to the dining room sitting down with a cup of tea and some cake that had already been put there by your grandmother in preparation of your arrival. 

"Alright then, let's talk about something else," your father stated curtly.  "When are you going to move into your own place again?" your father then asked, looking at you expectantly, clearly not approving of the fact that you were still staying with Cillian.

"Uhm, actually," you began to say, but Cillian did beat you to it. You noticed that there was a slight hint of annoyance in his eyes, but he remained calm and polite as he turned to your father and replied, "I am actually looking at buying a house just outside of London. Somewhere more suburban for us both to move into," he told your father, not breaking eye contact with him while your grandmother nodded in approval/ 

"Oh that's exciting," she said while your father simply grunted in response and took a sip of his tea before setting it back down and looking between you and Cillian.

"So, you are going to be living together for good then?" he asked you, his voice laced with thinly veiled disapproval.

Cillian, noticing the edge in your father's voice, looked at him calmly and took your hand into his beneath the table. 

"Yes, we are," you confirmed , meeting your father's gaze with a firm but gentle look. "And there's something else we need to tell you all as well," you paused, reaching for Cillian's hand as you said it.

You could feel Cillian's fingers entwine with yours, giving you the reassurance that you needed.

"What is it?" your mother asked, her voice laced with curiosity but also with concern.

You took a deep breath before saying the words that you had been rehearsing in your mind.

"Well, uhm, I am pregnant actually," you admitted, watching their expressions carefully.

"Oh that's even more exciting," your grandmother beamed while your mother eyes widened in surprise and father frowned deeply, looking at Cillian angrily.

"You're what?" he growled.

"I am pregnant," you repeated, your voice firm as you met his stare.

"Is it his?" your father  asked accusingly, looking at Cillian, who visibly tensed up at the question.

You shot your father a warning look, which he ignored as he continued glaring at Cillian.

"Obviously, yes! The child is Cillian's," you confirmed, rolling your eyes at the question, maintaining eye contact with your father, who looked away after a moment.

"So, what are you going to do now?" he asked, avoiding Cillian's gaze as well.

You sighed deeply, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Well, we are planning on moving in together and raise a child, dad. The baby is due in less than five months, so there is no backing out now," you told him, and your grandmother gasped aloud in surprise, covering her mouth with her hand as she looked at the two of you with a mix of shock and happiness on her face. "Oh my! That's wonderful news," she exclaimed.

"It's not wonderful news. It's disgraceful," your father snapped, slamming his fist on the table in anger, which is when Cillian became rather frustrated with your father's attitude. 

"I understand that you disapprove of our relationship and I get it. I really do. If I had a daughter, I would disapprove too if she was with a man twice her age, but it is what it is now and  arguing about it is pointless," Cillian responded sternly, his irritation clear in his tone. 

"I can't believe this," your father  muttered, shaking his head before throwing his hands in the air and standing up. "I have to go for a walk," he barked before stomping out of the room.

"I am sorry about that Cillian," your mother sighed, watching him leave. "He can be a little...overprotective," she explained with a weak smile.

Cillian nodded silently, his gaze following your father's retreat before turning to you, his expression softening as he took in your worried expression.

"I get it and it's a bit of a shock too I guess," Cillian said, squeezing your hand gently before releasing it. "Maybe he just needs some time to cool off, and then we can all talk about this," he offered, his tone conciliatory and understanding.

"You are so patient and I love you for that," you whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek before turning your attention back to the rest of the table.

Your grandmother still had a knowing smile on her face, one that made you blush slightly despite yourself, while your mother was still looking at you with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Well, this is certainly unexpected," she murmured, shaking her head slightly as if trying to process the news. "But I am happy for you, Y/N. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

You smiled gratefully at her, touched by her words. "Thank you, mom. That means a lot to me," you told her just before, after a few minutes of contemplation, Cillian excused himself to go after your father, leaving you alone with your mother and grandmother. 

Finding your father out the back, in his shed,  Cillian approached him, not knowing how to approach the argumentative man but determined to make things right.

"Can I come in?" he began with hesitation , not knowing how your father would react.

Your father didn't respond right away, instead, he continued rummaging through his tools before eventually answering Cillian, "Fine." 

Cillian took that as an invitation, slowly making his way into the small space, his heart beating fast in his chest.

"Like I said, I know that you don't approve of me being with your daughter and I get it," Cillian began. "But can we work this out please. For Y/N's sake? Because she has been through a lot and she needs her parents to support her,"  Cillian implored, his voice softer now as he took a few steps closer towards your father, who was still facing the other way.

Your father sighed deeply, setting down the tool he had been holding before turning around to face Cillian, his expression a mix of irritation and sadness.

"I know she has and I want to support her in any way I can, believe me. But I don't think this is the right choice for her. She is too young to be a mother and this relationship, between you, it's not going to work, is it?" your father told Cillian, shaking his head. "You're a grown man who has been in the industry for years, you know how these things go. You know that the media can be ruthless, especially when it comes to personal matters and they will eat her alive when this comes out," your father explained to Cillian, his voice thick with unsaid emotion.

In this moment, Cillian could see the fragility in your father's normally strong exterior and the deep-seated worry that pervaded his words. He could also sense the underlying anger towards him, but he could understand it, given the circumstances.

"No, they won't. I will make a statement," Cillian reassured your father. "Despite, I am serious about your daughter and I believe that we can make this work together,"  Cillian continued, searching for the right words to convince your father of his intentions just as you popped your head in as well.

"There is cake, dad. It's your favorite," you  interrupted hesitantly, sensing the tension and not wanting to disrespect your father any further.

Your father turned towards you and sighed deeply. "Alright. I guess it would be rude not to eat grandma's cake, huh?" your father said, forcing a smile before you all went back inside.

The rest of the afternoon and evening went uneventful, and your father even attempted to make some small talk with Cillian here and there. But it was evident that he was still upset and held a strong disapproval, especially when he suggested that Cillian sleep in his office, rather than with you.

"I pulled out the sofa bed for you Cillian. Hope it's alright," your father told Cillian gruffly as it was getting late and everyone was getting ready for bed.

"Just let him sleep in Y/N's room," your grandmother suggested matter-of-factly with a smile on her face. 

"Absolutely not. My house. My rules," your father muttered, still hesitant about the situation.

"But darling, what do you think is going to happen if they sleep in the same bed? She's already pregnant for heaven's sake," your grandmother chuckled  , shaking her head in amusement, a playful glint in her eyes.

"My mother isn't wrong, dear. She can't get any more pregnant than she already is," your mother chuckled, breaking the tension that had settled in the room like a dark cloud again. 

Your father grunted in response, still unimpressed as he gave Cillian a stern look, but ultimately decided to let it go for the time being. "Fine," he said in the end, and you were pleased with his change of mind. 

After your father gave his consent for Cillian to share a bed with you, Cillian went to have a shower before going to bed while you were having another late-night tea with your grandmother.

Your grandmother and you had a lot of catching up to do and you talked about many things including the situation with Max and your father.

She had always been the voice of reason 

in your life and you respected her opinions as she was the most level-headed member of your family.

"Your father needs time, darling. Just give him some time to process everything. He wants to protect you, and he thinks this is not the right path for you," your grandmother told you softly as she took a sip of her tea before continuing softly with "I am not saying I completely agree with him, but I understand where he is coming from. It's a big change, having a baby. It's not just about what you want, dear, it's about what is best for the child too."

You sighed softly, understanding that point of view as well. "I know and I appreciate that," you said, taking a deep breath as you looked out the window towards the dark night outside. "I mean, things have been confusing for everyone involved too, I guess. You see, I never really anticipate falling for my ex's father and the mess that came with it is just a freaking disaster." 

"Well, that's expected though, isn't it?" your grandmother said before asking you how you had actually met Cillian back then. "How did you even get involved  with Cillian?" she asked curiously, her eyes sparkling with interest and laughed softly, remembering that day as if it were yesterday.

"Well, Cillian and I didn't actually start seeing each other until much later. I had broken up with Max for quite some time by that point and ran into his father in a Jazz Club in London. But, I always kind of liked him, you know? Ever since meeting him when Max and I went to visit his parents in Dublin. Cillian and I just clicked right away, and I knew it was wrong to feel that way about him, especially since I was still seeing Max, but it just happened,"  you confided in your grandmother with a sigh.

She nodded in understanding, taking another sip of her tea before replying, "Darling, as I said, sometimes these things just happen. It's not like you can control who you fall for. And besides, he seems like a lovely man. I can see why you are so smitten by him," your grandmother advised while you started recalling that one weekend, well over a year ago, again in your head. It was the weekend you had first met Cillian and his then wife Danielle, at their house in Dublin and sparks had flown ever since.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[release-the-sheep]

again!

Rizzles, 47

hi again :)

(prompt from a list, it's been ages, I'm getting through them)

47 "Don't wanna come until I feel you in me."

"Hey, you wanted to see me?"

Jane steps into Maura's office and shuts the door behind her when Maura signals for her to do so from behind her desk. "Blinds too, please."

"You got it," says Jane uncertainly, frowning slightly. She turns when she's completed the task and strides over to the desk, which Maura has moved around and is now leaning against.

Maura looks conflicted, which does not unfurrow Jane's brow at all. "You weren't doing anything pressing, were you?" Maura asks, and it's sheepish.

Jane has very, very rarely seen Maura sheepish. Bashful, at times. Embarrassed, occasionally. Sheepish? Hardly ever. Jane's confusion only deepens. "I was looking back over the findings from ballistics for the Chang case, just 'cause somethin' might be different the seventh time I checked. No, it wasn't pressing. What's up, are you okay? What's going on?" She can feel herself getting worked up the longer Maura sits there, fidgeting with the cuffs of her cardigan and staring at her.

Maura takes a deep breath, flexing her fingers around cashmere. "You recall this morning?" she asks, proud of how normal she's able to make her voice sound despite the fact that she's practically shaking with need.

Jane immediately knows what Maura is referring to, and she smirks. She had spent last night at Maura's, and this morning had caught Maura looking over at her from the other side of the bed as they got dressed, rapt. Jane had felt a naughty smirk settle on her face and had decided to tease just a bit. She had turned fully toward Maura, dressed in just her grey Nike sports bra and black boyshorts, and locked eyes with her. Then, Jane had slowly slid first fingertips, then fingers, then her entire left hand under the thick band of said shorts. She had moved her hand around in there just enough to set Maura's mind reeling, before pulling it back out and reaching for the pants she'd laid out on the chaise longue. She'd even had the audacity to cavalierly wipe the pads of her fingers on the side of the shorts before going about the rest of her morning routine. Maura had felt her arousal light like a candle, flaring brightly at Jane's inciting actions, and then settling into a tamer but steady burn in their aftermath.

The candle had burned all morning and into the afternoon until at 2:17pm, Maura, now a puddle (of wax, or of something else), had decided she could wait no longer for Jane's touch and had sent the detective a quick, desperate text requesting her presence. It had included neither reason nor detail, and yes, Maura sees now how that might've looked to Jane. She spares half a moment for thoughts of repentance, but no more, as Jane appears now to be catching on. She always has been quick.

"You really been thinkin' 'bout that all day?" Jane asks, voice low and hips confidently cocked as she looms over Maura, getting right in her space.

Maura means to sound indignant but is aware she comes off needy and breathless instead. "Can you blame me? When you did it I could feel your fingers as if it was my skin they were on, and I've been feeling them since."

Jane's pupils dilate at her admission. "Well damn, that sounds like it must've made it hard to get any work done," she rasps.

Maura nearly stamps her foot in impatience. "You really are aggravating, you know."

Jane chuckles, dark and liquid and delicious, and Maura thinks the sound would taste like chocolate if she could somehow lick it. Jane takes the tips of Maura's fingers in hers and spins her so the ME's back is to her front. "You love it, though," she murmurs.

"Generally," Maura agrees, unwilling to risk hives and too caught up to think of a less incriminating answer. "Touch me, please," she nearly whines.

"With pleasure."

Jane begins by snaking a hand up over Maura's shoulder at her neck, pulling aside the collar of Maura's blouse slightly so she can leave a wet, hot kiss there. That hand continues over and down Maura's chest until it is cupping Maura's breast. Jane had recognized the strap of Maura's bra a moment ago when she revealed it, and she knows it does not have padding, just a wire and satin cups and a front clasp. She takes advantage, pressing the heel of her palm firmly against soft flesh and then curling her fingers around to knead.

Maura can actually feel some of the texture of Jane's scar through the two thin layers of fabric, and she shudders in pleasure. Her nipple is hard, poking, and Jane responds by loosing her fingers and caressing with her palm flat. It makes Maura twitch and gasp.

Jane does that melted chocolate chuckle again. Her hand glides lower down Maura's front, until she is cupping Maura between her legs. She can feel the heat and even a hint of the moisture of Maura's arousal through designer slacks, and it makes her hiss. She starts to rub, slow but firm, and Maura throws her head back against Jane's shoulder with a wanton moan. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding, you could come from just this, huh?" Jane asks, awed.

"Don't... want to," breathes the pathologist, pushing her hips into Jane's hand.

"What? Why?" Jane moves as if to pull her hand away but Maura clamps her own hand down against Jane's wrist, maintaining the delectable pressure. She gathers herself to speak again.

"Don't wanna come until I feel you in me."

Jane feels dizzy. "Well, then, I better get your pants open," she croaks.

Maura reaches behind her with the hand not holding Jane's in place and pulls Jane's face toward hers over her shoulder. She lays a searing kiss on Jane, messy and forceful. "You'd better."

Jane licks her lips where Maura's just were and undoes the clasp, button, and fly of Maura's slacks. She wastes no time sliding into satin panties and collecting Maura's arousal on her fingertips. Maura keens, rolling her hips and pulling Jane tighter against her. Jane starts to move her fingers then, dipping low to the base of Maura's entrance before coming back up again nearer her clit, without touching it directly. She repeats the movement a few times, thoroughly slicking up the area, though Maura hardly needs her help with that. It's almost exactly what Jane did to herself this morning while Maura watched, and it makes Jane ask, "Is this what you've been wanting all day?"

"Yes," mewls Maura, long and drawn out and sinful. "Yes Jane, oh god, fuck me, please, please," she babbles.

Jane places a hungry kiss on Maura's shoulder as she enters her. The dual sensations ignite Maura, causing her to moan again. Jane is being deliberate, tracing her finger everywhere along Maura's walls, stroking and bending and flexing before beginning a fairly firm, rhythmic rubbing of one particularly sensitive patch at the front. To say it is working for Maura would be an understatement; the ME is writhing in Jane's arms, pressing into Jane's assault, whimpering and moaning and sighing with each move Jane makes.

And yet it's not enough. "Jane, please, another finger," Maura pants, digging her nails hard enough into Jane's side to leave marks as she holds the pair of them as close together as she can.

"Yeah?" asks Jane, her voice coming out low from deep in her chest, knowing she's teasing.

"Please," begs Maura again, near crying from the sensation building at her apex.

"Okay, baby, I've got you," murmurs Jane, slipping in her ring finger alongside the middle finger she's already stroking Maura with, easily incorporating it into her ministrations.

Maura groans and bucks her hips, startling them both with the bang it causes their bodies to make against her desk.

The sound activates Jane. "You know what to do if you don't like it but I'm gonna try something, okay?" she warns on a growl.

Maura makes a sound that feels more likely to be acquiescence than anything else, and Jane moves. She grips Maura's hair at the back of her head, lays her forearm against Maura's spine, and bends the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts over her own desk.

There's a muffled noise of pure pleasure as Maura bites down on her fist to stifle an honest-to-god scream at Jane's actions.

"You okay, baby?" asks Jane gently, beginning to slow down, "Bad scream or good scream?"

Maura scrabbles for Jane's hand between her legs, holding her in place. "So good, oh fuck Jane so good, so, so—"

But Jane has twisted her hand so she can circle her thumb around Maura's clit, and Maura comes. It feels like flying, every sensation completely tuned out except for the white-hot point of pleasure between her thighs.

The first feeling to return is the warmth of Jane's body as she's held, followed by the hard feeling of the desk she's still pressed against. Jane pulls out only now, having been slowly easing Maura down. She rubs broad circles over Maura's back. "That was good huh," she asks, and Maura feels her face form a sleepy grin at how self-satisfied the detective sounds.

"It was, yes," she agrees easily. "Wanna do it again later? I feel like we should christen my home office the same way."

Jane just laughs, and Maura thinks of chocolate.

[glorysbox]

Hi! Wanted to start off saying I love your writing so much! I had an idea that I’d love to see written by you, though I’m not sure if you do swf type stuff? (If not please totally ignore me!) And also not sure how detailed you prefer people to get, so this might be way too long for a fic lol. Either way, love your writing and hope you’re doing well!

So essentially Leon has a friend (afab) who has had a boyfriend for a while, and Leon begins to notice that she’s been staying home all the time, showing up less and less to hang out with their friend group, and giving excuses to not show up that’ve begun to repeat. Leon gets suspicious and confronts her when they’re alone for a minute, asking if her boyfriend is preventing her from hanging out with her friends and family. She confirms that’s the case, and explains that her boyfriend gets insanely suspicious about her interacting with anyone outside of him because, “Why would you ever need to talk to or be around anyone else? I should be enough for you. I should be your whole world.” And Leon, who has always had feelings for her but never acted on them is essentially like, “You know there are people who’d treat you better than that, right?”

leon x fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

tags: SFW YAYYYY! implied emotionally abusive relationship, hurt + comfort, leon is a cutie that cares about u a lot, dialogue heavy again

It's been a while since he's seen you.

So long, in fact, that Leon is starting to feel worried.

He never liked your boyfriend—couldn't stand the way the guy constantly talked down to you or the people around you. Leon never said anything, though. The guy made you "happy"—(in your own words)—and he would rather keep his tongue shut than threaten the friendship he has with you over this guy.

He thought he was making the right decision.

And yet, here he is, staring at the multitude of messages that he's been sending you over the past few weeks. Invitations to hang out get ignored. Questions about your well-being get ignored. Conversation starters get ignored. It's frustrating. But above being frustrating: it's nerve-wracking. Leon is worried. And he has been for weeks now... you're pulling away from him. And not just him; you're pulling away from everyone.

bestie: Hey. I'm worried about you, can we please talk? You've been distant for a while now. Did I do something wrong? [7:32]

bestie: Hello? Cmon. Dont ignore me [7:47]

You don't even read it.

It's at this point in time where Leon is starting to feel like he needs to do something. To say something. You were never like this before—and he's upset. Really upset. Which leads him to where he is now—fumbling with his phone as he stands outside of your apartment building. What does he even say? Does he call you—maybe text you? Will you even respond? Probably not. What if your boyfriend—the whole reason he wants to speak with you—is over your place?

Jesus, Leon. He thinks, stuffing his phone along with his hands into his jacket pockets. Come on. She needs you. Whatever happens happens.

Three knocks on your apartment break you out of your boyfriend-argument induced stupor. Your mind is foggy as you stumble from your bed—wiping your tears—to head to the door. This time, you don't even know what you've done wrong. You listen to your boyfriend faithfully. You've stopped talking to Leon, stopped hanging out with your friends, stopped messaging your family everyday—what else is there to do? You just want him to be happy.

boyfie: Do you even care about me? [7:26]

boyfie: i ask you to do the bare minimum shit and you never listen [7:26]

boyfie: Maybe we should just break up. i treat you like you're the only girl for me and all you do is whore yourself around [7:27]

He's told you so many times that he's the only one that'll ever love you the way he does. Explained that he is and should be your endgame—tells you that every good relationship needs it's compromise. He tells you that he's compromised so much to get nothing in return. And you believe it.

You'll have to figure out how to make this right—after you see who's at the door. With one final wipe of your tears with the back of your hand, you open your front door—maybe hoping to see your boyfriend, but...

"Hey, I... are you crying?" Leon's face is scrunched together, eyebrows drawn in and eyes squinting at the sight of your (admittedly pathetic, but adorable) display of sadness.

"No—I'm not. I was just..." You trail off, voice low and sad and whiny enough to make Leon's heart break into a million pieces. Guilt rushes over him in waves. He should've come sooner. You feel a firm hand squeezing the meat of your shoulder.

"Don't even lie... can I come in? We really, really need to talk. I—"

"No! No—you can't come in. Look, I'm sorry Leon, but..." You put your hands up defensively, creating distance between the both of you. Leon's heart breaks into a million more pieces. "That's not a good idea. You need to leave."

"Need to?" He sounds offended. "I'm not going anywhere. What I need to do is talk to you. About a bunch of things. It's just a talk!"

He pauses for a few moments.

"He won't get mad at us for just talking," Leon adds, in attempt to quell your obvious anxiety at just conversing with him. It's pretty much just as he thought; you never would avoid or ignore him on purpose. Your boyfriend told you to. You're just too sweet to realize that he's treating you like shit.

"Even if he doesn't... I don't want to risk it. I really don't want to upset him..." You avoid Leon's gaze. "Can you just... go away? I don't want to ruin my relationship anymore than I already have."

Leon's heart breaks into a trillion pieces.

"I'm... not going anywhere." Leon says slowly, taking a step closer to you. "Come on. He doesn't have to know. I'm worried about you. Everyone is."

"I don't want to lie about having you over. That would just be wrong." You pause. "And worried about what? I'm fine. Really."

Leon sighs. You watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose—watch as he looks around your apartment building. And then, you watch as he ducks under your arm to enter your apartment. He's already got the door shut behind himself before you can protest or say anything.

You open your mouth to speak, but—

"Just hear me out! Please. Come on. We've been best friends for years. Don't you care to hear about what I have to say?" He pauses, a pout forming on his face. You start to feel guilty for ghosting him. "Please. I'll be quick."

And you sigh in defeat, saying nothing. Which to him, is an invitation to speak.

"I... uh, okay, I know I said I wanted to speak. But I actually want you to talk to me instead. Talk to me about what's going on—" He reaches for you, putting a hand on your cheek. His thumb swipes away your tears. You don't pull away this time. "I need to know. I've been dying not knowing what's going on with you. At least give me the reason you ditched me."

"I... I'm sorry..." You mutter, eyes downcast as you avoid your best friend's intense gaze. "I should've talked to you about it, I'm sorry. It's just—he didn't want me talking to you, because..."

"Because?"

"Well—he said that you... uh, had a crush on me. And he didn't want me hanging out with you anymore because it's... cheating."

"What?! I don't—I..." He trails off, voice pitched a tad too high considering the fact that he's lying his ass off. Deflect, Leon. "Okay, whatever. What about our other friends? Your family? What's your reason for that?"

"H... he just said that you and—well, everyone doesn't understand our relationship. And that you guys just want to break us apart."

Damn right Leon doesn't understand your relationship with that douchebag. And damn right he wants you to break up with him. He doesn't verbalize any of this—not now, at least. He keeps a hand on your cheek, reveling in the feeling of your warm skin on his hand.

"And... why are you crying right now?" Leon's voice is soft as he speaks to you. He's trying his hardest to coax the truth out of you.

"Because..." You bite your lip, still looking away from Leon. The look on your face has his heart breaking into a quadrillion pieces. He could treat you so much better. "I made a mistake. And he won't tell me what I did... but I want to fix it. I really don't want to lose him..."

"You know... if he was a good boyfriend, he wouldn't not tell you what you did wrong." Leon's brows furrow together once more, replacing his softer expression. "He shouldn't want you to be upset. He should want you to be... happy. That's what couples should do."

Leon's doing a lot of talking for a guy who's never had a relationship before. He'd never admit that the reason is mostly because he only wants you.

"I know, but—"

"There's no buts. Come on. Don't you see? He's treating you like shit. I don't want to see you like..." He gestures to all of you. "This. Sad and lonely and desperate for this guy to treat you well. He's never going to treat you well."

He pauses.

"There's so many people out here. People that can treat you better. That care about you... like me, for example." Very subtle, Leon. He thinks, but thankfully... you don't seem to catch on. Or you don't comment on it if you do. He takes the opportunity, pulling you closer into him.

You don't pull away.

Making progress.

"We're best friends... I only want the best for you." You wrap your arms around his torso. Making more progress, he thinks. "I care about you more than you know. And I've been lonely without you."

You bury your face in his chest. It's comforting. It always has been. More progress.

"Everyone is worried about you. You need to... stop letting him string you along like this. He's taking advantage of you." You sniffle in his chest.

Maybe he's right, you think.

"Let's go back to the way things were before. Me. And you. And, uh... everyone else, yeah. And you being happy and smiling and having fun. I haven't seen you smile once since you started dating this guy." An exaggeration, but not all a lie. Now that you think about it, you aren't exactly happy. At all, really.

You're cracking.

"But..." You want to protest, to say anything, but the words die in your throat. You miss Leon. You miss your friends. You miss your family.

"No buts. Let's watch a movie. We can order pizza and stuff our faces. And you'll block that bastard and hang out with me every day again." You try to hold back the smile that threatens it's way on your face.

You hate to admit that this sounds like a good idea.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Protect ~ Percy Jackson

Summary: After the war with Gaea, Percy becomes obsessive about protecting Annabeth

Warnings: dark!Percy, mentions of death

—————————————————————————

Sally woke up to a thumping noise echoing through the house. She rubbed her eyes and check her alarm clock. It read 5:47 am.

“What on earth is he doing now,” Sally grumbled, quietly getting up from her bed. She didn’t want to wake Paul. She tugged her robe on and padded down the hallway towards Percy’s room. A dim light shone from under his door. Sally knocked lightly, “Percy?”

She heard a grunt followed by footsteps. Percy opened the door dripping in sweat.

“What are you doing up so early?” Sally whispered, hugging herself from the morning chill.

“I’m working out,” Percy said, his voice gravely. Ever since the summer his voice had seemed raw, like he’d been screaming or coughing a lot. Sally had asked about it once but was met with a lot of diversion, from both Percy and Annabeth. They hadn’t told her about the summer they endured, and Percy intended to keep it that way.

“Okay,” Sally dragged on, peeking behind Percy and into his room, “don’t tire yourself out.” Percy gave her a quick smile as she left back down the hall. Percy shut his door and his smile dropped. He gazed towards the picture of Annabeth on his desk before picking his weights back up.

When she turned to look at him, her features momentarily blurred into mist. Percy’s blood moved like sap in his veins. For years, he had worried about Annabeth dying. When you were a demigod, that went with the territory. Most half-bloods didn’t live long. You always knew that the next monster you fought could be your last. But seeing Annabeth like this was too painful.

Percy shook his head and started his curls again. It didn’t matter that his nights were filled with nightmares and unrest. He needed to stay strong for Annabeth. He was terrified in Tartarus, completely unprepared to keep them safe, and far too weak. He was at home now, safe. But still, he could never let his guard down again. Every waking second of his days were spent getting stronger for her, practicing sword fighting for her, eating all the right foods for her. No more blue cookies (okay maybe some if Sally made them) and no more root beer. He had to prioritize his strength. He needed to be able to carry Annabeth through the depths of hell.

His alarm rang even though he’d been up for hours. Still, he needed to shower and get ready for school. Percy mentally groaned, but the day didn’t seem too bad because Annabeth would be coming over to stay the weekend. It was almost a weekly occurrence, but Sally never seemed to question them. She noticed that weekends were the only time Percy slept past 6. Percy showered quickly before picking up his room. It’s funny, before he had his memories wiped and was sent to Camp Jupiter, he almost never cleaned. Now, Percy seemed more disciplined. Not that he minded the distraction anyway, his thoughts had changed. He often thought about choking Misery, and the power he really held. If he could do that do a goddess while he was on the brink of death…

Percy’s thoughts followed him to school as usual. He had a hard time caring about school at all, which was nothing new but now he spent his days inside himself. He kept trying to fight away the thoughts, the fear of Tartarus, of himself, of Annabeth dying while he sat there and watched. Pretty much 5 days of torture. But as the bell rang, Percy was reminded why it was all worth it. He rushed home to pick up Annabeth. Every Friday, he would drive to pick her up from her boarding school, and every Sunday, he would drive her back. To him, nothing felt better than driving with Annabeth in the shotgun and his hand on her knee. Once they reached home, Sally wrangled them to eat dinner with the family. She loved Annabeth dearly and would never let her go to bed on an empty stomach. She also knew that something was wrong. Something had happened this summer, to both Percy and Annabeth. But of course, Sally understood it was better not to know, so she watched as the two of them retreated to Percy’s room for the night.

Behind closed doors, Annabeth immediately snuggled into Percy’s chest, finally being able to shut her eyes without nightmares behind the lids. She knew Percy wasn’t sleeping well either, and with the way his abs felt under her cheek, she knew he’d been pushing himself again. But she was too exhausted to scold him, too comfortable in his arms to try and talk him out of protecting her. She needed him desperately.

“Percy,” Annabeth said, shifting to look up at her boyfriend. His eyes opened lazily, his thumb awakening to rub her shoulder.

“Hmm, Annabeth,” he groveled leaning down to kiss her head. She loved him so much, it felt like her whole body was exploding for him.

“I wish I could stay here every night,” she mumbled, burying her face into his chest. He hummed.

“Me too, ‘Beth” Percy sighed. And oh did he mean that. They both knew that trying to sleep was futile if they weren’t together. Annabeth knew they were suffering from PTSD, but you couldn’t exactly explain to a therapist what they had been through. So she relied on him to survive. He was her lifeline. She hugged him as tears threatened to spill out of her eyes. “Hey,” Percy said, lifting her chin up with his fingertips, “I’m here. We’re safe. I love you.” His words rang through her ears and slowed her heart. As Percy held her, his body finally relaxed, content to wrap himself around her and shield her from the world.

And so they spent the weekend together, curled up in Percy’s room watching Annabeths favorite movies and drinking tea complimentary of Sally. She may not know what they had been through, but she would do everything in her power to protect them.

[inactiveobeymeblog]

⚠️NSFW⚠️

Tongue (IsaFer) Find the AO3 version HERE

Lucifer squirmed and whined at the feeling of being too full.

Isabella held Lucifer up against the wall by his thighs, her hands ever so gentle as to not hurt or cause harm to the soft and fragile skin beneath her rough, clawed fingers.

Lucifer held onto Isabella's horns for dear life, his back arching and head resting on the wall behind him as he let out a whimpered moan. "Isa..." He managed to breathe.

Isabella looked up from where she was diving her tongue in to look at Lucifer. Lucifer looked back, his eyes prickled with the start of tears at the corner of his eyes. His eyes were beautiful as they were set locked into hers and hers alone. Lucifer's red ocean eyes were pretty and she couldn't bring herself to look away.

Isabella was much taller than Lucifer. About two or three torsos taller. And every time Isabella pushed her tongue deeper inside Lucifer, the man's stomach bulged, utterly full. Isabella found it enjoyable.

Lucifer moaned. " I...Isa..." He breathed out.

Isabella was quick to respond, slowly pulling her tongue out and licking over Lucifer's entrance before entering again. Her long tongue reached deep within him and rubbed against his walls and all of his sweet spots. Lucifer's body trembled, and he felt like his legs would give out if Isabella weren't holding him up. Lucifer's cock leaked with precum, dribbling down the shaft. Lucifer clutched Isabella's horns tighter, causing Isabella to hum at the feeling, sending powerful vibrations through Lucifer. The man couldn't help but whine.

Lucifer's stomach was full. Too full. He felt as though he could burst any minute. His face was hot and flushed and his mind was too hazy to formulate any words. Lucifer's vision became blurred with tears. "Isa... Isa...!"

Isabella continued to lick around his inner walls and prod him at his sweet spots, making the smaller man whine and tremble in her hold. Lucifer's grip on her horns tightened. He felt himself reaching his climax, his thighs and body trembling. He cried out and came.

Isabella pulled her tongue out , carefully and softly holding Lucifer as he went through the motions of his orgasm. "I've got you," Isabella whispered . "Such a good boy," Isabella smiled, her lips kissing Lucifer's abdomen, making the man shiver. "You've done so well, my love."

Isabella brought him to the bed and gently placed him on the silk sheets. "Are you alright?" She asked, wiping a few tears that spilt down Lucifer's cheeks. Lucifer nodded and hummed. Isabella kissed Lucifer's forehead. "Good."

Isabella, now satisfied and happy with Lucifer in her arms, smiled and watched as the man snuggled closer to her. What an adorable sight, Isabella thought.

What an adorable sight indeed.

For: @captainai-47

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 47/Epilogue: Mikey Done Good

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev

It has been a month since Mikey's second rescue from the TCRI.

The lair is bright again. There is laughter again. Everyone smiles and jokes and has fun again.

It's a home again.

Casey Jones Jr. smiles as he works to tidy up the lair, moving the empty and flattened cardboard boxes over to a side tunnel so they can be placed in a dumpster later. Usually, none of them mind the clutter or the mess from moving, but they're having guests over tonight and Casey wants to make a good impression.

Speaking of, CJ gets a notif from the security system that April has arrived. She waltzes in moment later, smiling brightly.

"Whattup, family!" she yells loudly, announcing her arrival to all who didn't get the notification. "It's your favourite person! Apriiiiiiiiiiiiil O'Neil!!"

CJ rolls his eyes as Donatello and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 come out to greet her.

"Hey, April!" Donnie responds, quickly fistbumping her in greeting. "How was class?"

"Pretty good. My report got an A, so I'd think I'm a shoo-in for the competitive writing finals this year. I heard the winners get to intern for Channel 6!"

Donnie rolls his eyes and smiles.

"You always did like the news."

"Congrats, bromigo!" S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 cheers, activating a few streamers and confetti, much to Casey's annoyance at having to clean the hall again.

"Where's everybody else?" April asks, glancing up and down the halls.

"Raph is still getting the dining room set up," Donnie says. "And Mikey's making dinner."

"Mikey is?" April asks, eyes wide, yet nowhere near as wide as her smile. "He's cooking again?"

"We've been practicing a few recipes," Casey announces proudly. "He felt confident enough to try making some of the food tonight."

"Lemme guess... pizza?" April chuckles as she follows the others into the living room to help Raphael set up. "I can't wait for another Mikey original! So, is everybody coming tonight?"

"My mom said she'll be here in a bit," Casey answers as he starts wiping down the table for the fourth time. "Agent Bishop and Honeycutt will be arriving within the next fifteen minutes, I think."

"Pops and Draxum are still waiting for Leo to wrap up his appointment. They're cuttin' it close, but Leo promised to be on time," Raph says as he carries a stack of plates into the room. "Which means he'll be fashionably late again."

Donnie sneers.

"You'd think a guy who can make portals to any place on earth would understand how to be punctual."

"I still can't believe it's been a month," April awes. "Everything flew by so fast!"

"And it doesn't help that the one day at the TCRI felt like a whole week," Raph groans. "Hey, who's in charge of silverware?"

"I got it," Casey offers, running into the kitchen and returning a moment later with the cutlery. "So, Mikey made pizza, Raph made breadsticks, and I made salad."

"I brought mini shish kabobs and dip," April offers, holding up a tupperware with grilled veggies on skewers.

"Sounds great! Mom mentioned bringing brownies..." Casey recalls, "Bishop and the Professor offered to pick up drinks, and Master Splinter and the Baron said they'd grab some Yokai hors d'oeuvre from the Hidden City vendors. So I think we'll be good!"

The group continue to set up the dinner table just as three more guests enter from the subway tunnel.

"I HAVE ARRIVED!!!" Cassandra yells loudly, waving her hockey stick around like a crazed chimpanzee as she runs.

Cass rushes forwards and wraps her arms around CJ as tightly as she can. He reciprocates with a laugh.

"ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ," Fugitoid remarks as he and Bishop walk in next, "ʙᴜᴛ ᴇʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴄᴀʟᴍᴇʀ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀ."

"Hey, Professor!" Casey greets with a smile. "You're looking good. New upgrades?"

"ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄɪɴɢ. ᴅᴏɴᴀᴛᴇʟʟᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ʜᴇʟᴘꜰᴜʟ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ…"

"Anything for a fan of my work," Dee jokes. "And you've brought drinks. Any flavourless juice?"

"Sorry, just sodas," Bishop says, holding up a few grocery bags filled with large liters of name brand seltzers.

"We can't expect you to be perfect all the time," Donnie grumbles.

"Where's Mikey?" Bishop asks.

"If he heard Cass's war cry, then he should be here any second --"

Almost on cue, Mikey comes bounding out of the kitchen at full speed, pouncing at Cass and zipping around her waist and shoulders in excitement like a hyped-up cat. He eventually perches just above her shoulders, chirping excitedly and giving her a noogie. She laughs as she reaches up and pulls him down, matching his energy and nooging him right back.

Mikey laughs before releasing his hold on her and running over to Bishop and Fugitoid, reacting much more calmly and rising to stand on two legs for them.

"Hi, guys!" he says, a smile growing across his doughy and flour-caked face.

"ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴍɪᴋᴇʏ!" Fugitoid greets. "ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ."

"Thanks! I'm all patched up now, see?" Mikey says as he enthusiastically shows off the large scars on his abdomen and neck. "My only complaint is the physical therapy's boring; but it is helping me to get back into my old hobbies!"

"I see you've taken up cooking?" Bishop asks, pulling a small chunk of sticky dough off Mikey's face.

"Oh, yeah. Whoops! I got a little carried away... but the pizza should be done in a while! Just enough time to talk about stuff and wait for the rest to get here! We can catch up!"

"Yeah, how's it going with the whole TCRI business?" Casey asks as he takes the brownies and sodas into the kitchen, the rest following after him and Mikey.

"Going really well," Bishop nods with a smile. "Which is surprising, considering everything. You'd think an evil corporation would try to hide their misdeeds, but what with all the leadership gone, everyone's turning on each other and revealing the truth!"

"Seriously?" Raph asks, eyes wide. "That's awesome!"

"Why haven't we heard anything about it on the news?" April asks.

"I doubt the local police will let any kind of news about a failed government study get in the public eye," Bishop sighs. "But they're handling it pretty well. Most scientists want to plea bargain, and from what I've heard the TCRI will be completely and permanently shut down within the next few days. Not just the sites stationed in NYC, but all over the globe! Then there's proceedings, court hearings, lawsuits from disgruntled employees for harassment, assault, and unfair work environments, just to name a few."

"Sounds like you have your hands full!" April laughs, moving aside as Mikey skirts behind her to retrieve a bottle of tomato sauce for the pizza.

"ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ!" Fugitoid chimes in. "ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴄʀɪ ɪɴ ꜱʜᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇꜱ ɢᴏᴠᴇʀɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ!"

"And that's where you two come in, hm?" Donnie asks with a smirk.

"I think it's time we rebuilt the Earth Protection Force from the ground up," Bishop nods. "Make it the way it was supposed to be. Something we can actually rely on."

Mikey smiles brightly at the agent as he shreds the cheese over the pizza dough and tomato paste. Though in his distraction, he accidentally spreads the cheese onto the countertop rather than the pizza itself. He hastily scoops up the cheese and sprinkles it back wherever it looks needed.

"Well, you're perfect for the job!" Casey beams.

"And I know a few girl scouts who would be VERY EXCITED to help!" Cass exclaims, forgetting her inside voice for a moment.

"I'll take that under consideration," Bishop responds with a roll of his eyes. "I could use some extra help. There are a lot of bad guys out there..."

"Speaking of," Raph slides in, clearing his throat. "Any updates on a certain 'you know who' and her location?"

"Abigail Finn is still incognito," Bishop sighs. "Though, Donatello's facial tracking system and security measures have helped us to keep a few tabs on her. But she's staying discreet, keeping a low profile and avoiding anything illegal. Which is good."

"Just give me a reason to annihilate her," Donnie whispers to himself. "Or to at least let me go semi-lethal..."

"Have you made any attempts to arrest her?" Casey asks.

"We... considered it," Bishop sighs. "But we felt that it would be better to let it slide. If we did make any attempts, you can bet she'd try to twist the truth and reveal everything she knows about you guys."

"So essentially, you're at a stalemate," Casey grumbles.

"Pretty much. We know dirt on her, she knows dirt on us. So long as we stay out of each others' ways, we're fine."

"ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ?" Fugitoid asks.

"Mostly helpin' with recovery," Raph answers. "In different ways."

"ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀʏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ, ᴍɪᴄʜᴇʟᴀɴɢᴇʟᴏ?"

Mikey sighs as he shoves the pizza into the oven. Not a begrudging sigh, but more of a 'where do I start' kind of sigh.

"Well... it's been a lot. First was the whole bedridden thing. Then the physical therapy started. Case was a HUGE help with that, he's an expert on it! And after that... it was a mix of stuff. My memory's gotten better, thanks to Draxum's mystic goop. He said by the rate I'm healing at, all my memories should be back by the end of the month!"

"ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ!" Fugitoid remarks, though the 'mystic goop' comment flies right over his head.

"Yeah... but it's not always easy," Mikey admits. "I have some bad days, a few relapses. Sometimes I still forget names and call one of my brothers by their life-colour instead. Sometimes I talk in the third person instead of the first. Some days I can't talk at all! Walking is... still wacky and tough to get used to. I'm comfortable doing both two legs and four, but I'm faster on four. My vision still acts up, but I've learned to control it a bit better. Dee and I have been training it to shift on command instead of in reaction to light! All in all, adjusting is weird."

"I bet," Bishop nods.

"Wildest thing -- pun intended -- is the whole 'animalistic traits' junk that happens. Like, I still don't get some social cues?" Mikey admits. "Like most people shake hands, but I'll smell or sniff a person first. Most people hug, I climb on them and wrap my whole body around them like a snake. I'll growl if I'm angry. Sometimes I bite when I get startled. Stuff like that."

"Don't forget that one week where you kept making nests all over the lair and storing food in your room," Donnie chimes in.

"I'm just glad you haven't tried to mark your territory or anything," Raph jokes.

Mikey gives him a joking side-glare before continuing.

"Well anyways, it's been weird and confusing but I'm doing a lot better now. I'm really happy again! Which, I'll be honest... surprises me sometimes. The nightmares aren't as constant. They happen, and sometimes I wake up and I don't know where I am. But my family's there to help whenever. I didn't think I'd be this happy this much for a long time... But here we are!"

April starts tearing up out of joy and goes to hug Mikey, who laughs and hugs her back.

"ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ʏᴇᴛ?" Fugitoid wonders.

"One or two," Mikey shrugs. "Though Raph would rather I wait a little longer. I'm kinda glad I kept the mutations, they really help with tracking and stuff -- and the looks on the villains' faces when I start climbing the walls is priceless!" Mikey cackles.

"ᴀɴᴅ… ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛʀᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ?"

"Not as bad," Mikey explains. "Practically gone. Sure, Instinct pops up every once in a while. He really likes to talk during fights and junk. But Raph's been helping me out with him."

Raphael smiles proudly at the mention.

"Therapy's been good too," Mikey continues. "It helps to just... talk it out with someone."

"You've been doing therapy?" Bishop asks in pleasant surprise. "With who? A human therapist?"

"Actually, there's a Yokai clinic in the Hidden City," Mikey smiles. "Draxum recommended it to Leo, and Leo recommend it to all of us."

"Ohhhh, so is that the appointment Casey mentioned?" April asks.

"Yeah," Mikey says with a grin. "I'm really happy that Leo took the initiative to go, that was huge for him. And he's doing a lot better, too!"

Mikey continues to explain their experiences with their therapists as he works with the pizza, pulling it from the oven and sprinkling garlic and herbs into the crust before setting it back in for a few more minutes...

"Leo's therapist has been giving him tips on how to improve his mental health, gain more self-worth, and deal with his own intrusive thoughts. He said I'd like talking to them, so I went in for a sort of trial run. It was... a little awkward at first. The initial couple of sessions were just us getting to know each other and my therapist asking about my family and some hobbies, which I kinda didn't expect at first? I guess I figured that we'd jump right into the issue... But the more we talked, the closer we got and the easier it was for me to open up about my traumas and problems. So, uh, there's that!"

Mikey chuckles as he checks on the pizza again. Five more minutes, maybe... He sighs as he leaps onto the kitchen counter and perches there.

"So, I guess this is our new normal," April notes. "Everything seems to be all wrapped up for the most part."

"Except for one thing," Cassandra grumbles. "The blue turtle and his fathers aren't here yet! I want to eat the pizza already!!"

"It's not even out of the oven," Raph scolds.

"I'LL EAT IT WITH MY BARE HANDS!" Cass shouts, pumping her fists. "I'LL EAT IT STRAIGHT OUT OF THE FIRE! IT'S NO MATCH FOR ME!!"

"Uh-huh, suuuuuuure," April jokes.

"When is Leo getting back, though?" Mikey asks.

"By my calculations, he'll be here in the next three minutes," Donnie declares. "My tracker says he and Papa and Draxum just left the Yokai clinic and should be getting their contributions for dinner right about now."

"Great! They'll arrive just in time for the pizza..."

The group continue talking about whatever they can until Leonardo's portal illuminates the outer room. Warm welcomes, questions on how the session went, how Leo's doing, what Draxum has been up to, and so on until everyone decides that they are starving and sit themselves down for dinner.

The group catch Leo up to the discussion through the salad and appetizers. He huffs at the mention of Dr. Finn. Draxum catches the others up on the recent finishes to his home and how Huginn and Muninn have come back to work for him again.

Fugitoid pretends to eat the food, which causes Casey Jones to snort his soda through his nose and the entire table laughs, even John Bishop.

Mikey uses his mutated tongue to snag an hors d'oeuvre off of Leo's plate when he isn't looking. Splinter sees and snickers loudly, which alerts Leo to Mikey's second and third attempts.

The pizza comes out a few minutes later, hot and ready. The crust is a bit warped and has strange knots, the cheese is mismatched and looks odd, and the toppings are strangely arranged. It's the wackiest-looking flatbread the world has ever seen.

Yet when each guest takes a bite, they are wonderfully surprised. It is quite possibly the most delicious pizza in the world, despite its flaws and outward appearance.

"Mikey, you made this?" Leo asks with shock as he chows down on the slice.

Mikey nods as he eats his own cheesy triangle.

"Wow, dude! This tastes awesome!"

Mikey's smile stretches across his face as Leo pats him on the back.

"You did good, Mikey! You did really good."

The End.

Prev || AO3

[nowoyas]

Boiling Point 1: Rabbit Season - Miguel O'Hara/Reader (NSFW)

Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: hi I'm very normal about miguel o'hara. come be normal with me.

EDIT 9/20: DUE TO A URL CHANGE LINKS ARE CURRENTLY BROKEN. FOR EASE OF READING PLEASE PROCEED TO AO3. I HAVE NINETY FOUR FIC LINKS TO UPDATE SO IDK WHEN THIS WILL BE FIXED BUT SOON.

Summary: You are determined to put an end to the onslaught of your toy collection. In your quest, you set out to re-train yourself into some discipline.

Warnings: smut, vibrator use, masturbation. reader is afab and a sub.

Word count: ~3000 words

You are really starting to hate Miguel O'Hara.

Oh, sure, you’d follow him to the ends of every earth, Earth-47 notwithstanding—fuck Earth-47 and its migraine-inducing everything—and you will never thank him enough for everything he’s done, for you and all the other dimensions saved by him, directly or otherwise. He’s brilliant, he’s a genius, he’s easy on the eyes, his leadership is instrumental to holding together All of Everything, all that which you can comprehend and conceive, all that which you cannot. He does not always have all the information, but you trust him to do as much good as he can with the information he has. He is fundamentally good to a fault, and while he can be abrasive at times—perhaps more often than not—we can’t all be winners all the time.

No, your issue with him has nothing to do with any of that.

Your head is more than a little fuzzy right now, given your current circumstances, so I’ll be nice and put this in a way you can understand:

Miguel O'Hara keeps breaking your fucking sex toys.

Like I said, he’s easy on the eyes. Maybe too easy. Maybe, more than once, you’ve fought at his side and had an entirely separate fight in your head just to keep your mind on the matter at hand. Maybe, one time too many, you’ve seen his fangs flash during a flare of the temper or a slip of his guard and not quite forgotten the sight. Maybe you’ll need to be lobotomized if you want to forget that time you’d gone on a mission with him and he’d leapt directly at you, claws out, fangs bared, eyes vermilion, to tackle you out of the way of some particularly dangerous debris and stayed on top of you for a full eternity after that to make sure you were okay.

If that final image was the one seared behind your eyes as you sighed and pressed your vibe into yourself this fine afternoon, that’s between you and no one. And, in fact, it wasn’t, because you are never admitting to getting off to the general thought of your—boss?—your boss, not today or ever, under oath or the threat of death.

That being said, it had started as a bit of a coping mechanism.

He was stupid hot, and he walked towards you like you were quarry he had hunted, and the first time he’d done it, your brain had gone completely offline for a full five seconds. Getting off that night had been unrelated, you tell yourself—you didn’t think while pumping two fingers into your cunt, let alone about him, let alone when you’d added the third because you were certainly not imagining something thicker plunging into your heat. Fingers hadn’t been enough, not for a job like that, and by the time you overheard him finish a playful spat with Lyla with the words “good girl”, you’d given in and broke open the vibrator collection, a relic of a much more impulsive time, before you were fucking yourself on toys definitely not to the thought of your boss.

The first casualty had been your green rabbit vibe. It was a mainstay, and your oldest toy—a thruster, thick, good insertable length, great battery life, not so loud you struggled to get off for fear of your next-door neighbor hearing its buzz. Miguel had bitten someone during a mission that day, just held them and sunk his teeth in and set them down as they slumped, paralyzed, and wiped his mouth of the blood afterward like it wasn’t the hottest thing known to man.

Monsterfucking porn had been your saving grace. You’d turned to werewolves and tried not to overthink the image in your head when you pictured their teeth scraping your flesh, and then your old reliable rabbit vibe had made an odd noise between your writhing that tore you out of the image entirely. Seconds later, it stopped thrusting whether you wanted it to or not. When you hit the button, it made a pathetic noise like a spent lover, wriggled a moment, and went right back to motionless.

You’d groaned in frustration, pulled it out, told yourself it had just died, except it was still making that buzzing noise and the clitoral stimulator was still working fine. You pulled the third orgasm of the night out of the clit stimulator and your wrist work alone—it had been a bit better, because the ruined orgasm 2.5 had ultimately turned out to be an edge, and a name that no one would ever be able to prove was Miguel’s ghosted your lips by then. A good cleaning, a good charge, and some cooldown time, and you determined that the thruster of your poor little green rabbit would never work again.

Miguel O'Hara’s second casualty among your collection was nearly as tragic. You’d come to see him at the wrong time that day—walked in, said his name, and he’d turned to you with red eyes and actually growled at you, and holy shit, you couldn’t calm down for the next hour or the rest of the night.

Your green rabbit had been relegated to a glorified dildo and clit vibe, and as you thrashed on your bed, desperately chasing just an echo of the things that ran through your head when he growled at you, pressing the vibe into yourself as far as it would go and nearly there nearly there nearly there, it buzzed oddly and its power suddenly fell away.

You’d choked back a sob at that one. Again, you assumed it’d been a case of poor battery life, though you hadn��t charged it all that long ago. When you reluctantly pulled out the dripping vibe and saw its indicator lights flashing and flickering in the dark room, you did sob, and then, because you were still thinking about the growl in his voice and the flash of his fangs, you dragged yourself out of bed, dumped your old friend in the trash, and found your backup vibrator to finish the job.

The next casualty of your collection had been your pink vibe—she was an upgrade in every way to the green one. More speed options, rotating beads in the shaft, an attempt to imitate “tongues” on the clit, however the hell that was supposed to work, and more money to have discreetly shipped to your apartment.

This time, Miguel hadn’t even done anything in particular to catch you in his toy-breaking throes. He’d just been existing. Vibing, if you will. And your horny ass—by that point you were starting to suspect yourself some kind of nymphomaniac, and that was before casualty number three—saw him just sitting there and eating food like a normal-ass person, had some really fucking horny thoughts (first about just cooking for him, nice, domestic, sweet) (second about him pulling up the apron you’d wear for him in the first scenario and splitting you in half over the kitchen counter), and that was it for your evening post-shenanigans.

So, naturally, when you got home, you took off the bracelet, stashed it in another room, leaned over your kitchen counter, and revved up that rotating-beads-in-the-shaft thruster, pistoning it into your cunt with obscene squelches like your life depended on it. You’d kept it up, free hand clasped over your mouth, until you were forced to finish on the couch lest your legs give out, and the poor thing overheated from the strain of trying to keep up with the image you had in your head of Miguel and the thruster never moved again. Great investment, that one.

It was at this point in time that you had two options:

First, seek therapy to help you through the excruciating condition of being sex-crazed for one Miguel O'Hara.

Or, secondly, you could funnel those feelings through a surrogate and fuck someone else’s brains out so you didn’t have to think about him.

You, in all your overwhelming genius, decided that the city’s superhero could not retain the services of a therapist in any way that mattered, let alone any of the Spider-Therapists abound at HQ, and instead found your way into a myriad of fuck-buddy relationships with perfect strangers.

You found your pool of eligible fuck-buddies wanting, to say the least. You never used to be all that picky—I mean, sure, you were never exactly all that attracted to anyone before the whole Spider thing, and then you were a little too busy to worry about it, but you still probably would have slept with someone if they were decently pretty enough and nice to you—but then you tried to find someone and filtered out half of them on looks alone.

Hair too light. Too waifish. I could snap this one in half.

Some were just generally not great candidates as you swiped through: weird thoughts about domming, one whose bio mentioned how he would expect you to throw out your toys once you were “dedicated” to him (those were expensive and you’d been forced to throw out one too many already), misaligned kinks, one guy who literally said “I don’t believe in safewords” and didn’t see how that was the biggest red flag in the universe.

It took too long, once you’d settled on a few choice matches, to figure out what they all had in common beyond making profiles on a hookup app and claiming to be dominants:

They all reminded you of Miguel.

This, admittedly, did not become clear until later, when you slept with the first one for the second time and it wasn’t all that bad and while he had you blindfolded on the bed, you forgot yourself and moaned a name.

Not ‘sir’, like had been discussed in your initial meeting.

At first, you’d frozen because you’d forgotten to use his title, and that meant you were due for punishment. Then, it was because you realized the real mistake:

That hadn’t been his name you’d moaned.

You broke it off shortly after that. When the second guy went the way of the first, you gave yourself one last shot with this whole diversion idea, and that went pretty well. You lasted three whole months with this one—he was sweet, he was funny, and when it came time for you to be tied down and have your brains fucked out, he respected your hard stops and made your head fuzzy by the time he was done with you.

He bit you in the heat of the moment, and you moaned the wrong name again, and this time, you gave up on having any sort of sex life, even though he tried to be understanding of the misstep.

His teeth weren’t sharp enough to live up to who you wanted him to be, anyway.

How many casualties had Miguel O'Hara racked up in your bedroom, now? Three partners, two thrusting mechanisms, one vibrator, and now, as you sit on your knees on your bed and ride the half-defunct pink rabbit, the still-functioning vibrator buzzing in the night, you give in and admit to yourself that what you need more than anything is for him to break you in half. To chase you down, clamp his teeth on your throat, and have his way with you.

Riding this stupid toy isn’t enough. You slump face-first onto the bed, ass in the air, and try to imagine how his hand would feel on the back of your neck as you reach a hand back to pump the toy into your weeping pussy.

This, too, is not enough—you resort to full-power vibrator, nearly spasming as you try to reach the heights you need to feel satisfied tonight. And you even nearly get there, before Miguel O'Hara’s stupid everything claims its seventh casualty and the vibrator sputters out with a noise that you’ve come to associate with a profound sort of grief.

You throw the broken vibrator aside, reach for the shitty purple bullet vibe that had come as a free gift with one of your collection. In your haste and with the strength that comes with being a Spider, the fucking thing snaps in your hands. Another casualty of his. At least you didn’t pay a hundred dollars for that one.

It’s little consolation. Tears slip down your cheeks as you reach back to do the job manually, but no amount of fingering yourself or frantically rubbing at your clit is going to be enough, and fuck it, you know that by now, but that was your last toy and now there’s nothing left and his stupid pretty face is still in your head and you have to do something!

It’s no good.

Nothing you’ve tried has ever quite been good enough, and you know that.

Short of buying yourself a fucking machine, too expensive and noisy and hefty to even really consider, you’ve got nothing.

After fifteen frustrated minutes of crying and trying to bring yourself up to that climax you so desperately need, you throw yourself down fully onto the bed and actively cry into your pillow.

He’s stupid.

He’s burned through every sex toy in your collection, every vibrator and thruster, every partner you’ve tried to lay with since meeting him.

You are really, really starting to hate Miguel O'Hara.

~

Okay, so that’s one unhealthy coping mechanism lost to your complete inability to be chill. Luckily, you’re not just a sex-crazed simp for him, you’re also an adrenaline junkie, and if your substitute for all the lost sexual outlets happens to be taking some bigger risks than you normally would when caught up in some fight or another, that’s between you and the wall you went through.

Keep telling yourself it’s sustainable, and maybe you won’t have to worry about the weird look from one of the many various Peters running around or the stern look on the face of Miguel when you report back in. Which Peter? Fuck if you know. You were faceblind before joining the society comprised of 95% the same guy in different flavors. They don’t take it personally. At least you almost always get the name right.

And really, it is! It is completely sustainable! Bruises are a thing you wear with pride, and you’re beyond the worry for broken bones and serious injury by now. If anything, the dull ache in your back could be a useful grounding point to keep yourself from thinking about things you shouldn’t, a skill you probably should have been practicing well before you broke the first vibe.

Nothing you try works, of course, not when he’s standing in front of you looking an awful lot like he has something to say.

“I should head back, too,” you say when your backup Peter has moved to leave. A perfect segue to heading back to your home dimension and—

“[name]. Stay back a moment.”

He doesn’t word things like requests. You’ve learned, over time, that he is requesting, in a way, but his voice is forever just a bit too deep and rumbly for your body to interpret it as anything but an order, and god you’re useless. So much for not thinking about the things you’re trying not to think about.

You have to remember that you can’t stay here and chat, so you remember that you can’t stay here and chat, and so you turn to leave anyway. “I can’t really stay and chat—“

“That was stupid,” he interrupts.

Ah. He was watching you fight today.

He raises a single eyebrow as he studies you. (You hate his stupid face you hate his stupid face you hate—)

“You could have moved out of the way.”

You snort, brush it off. “He was just some villain of the week type. I thought it’d be cool if I could get him before he hit me.”

“You let him hit you because you thought it would be cool?”

“No, I waited too long to move the way I wanted to, because I thought it would be cool. It’s not like I really got hurt, anyway.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh, muttering something in Spanish you don’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“I can’t decide whether you’re stupid or just need discipline.”

That is decidedly not what he said. You caught enough shreds of his muttering to know that much. And anyway, it doesn’t matter, because it takes all your willpower not to reply with discipline me yourself then, coward and you’re so focused on that thought that it clicks.

Oh.

What you need is not to get over your monumental attraction to him.

It’s discipline.

Before you fucked the life out of every vibrator you owned, you had discipline.

Before you met him, you had discipline.

It was something you’d given over to sexual partners to handle—to tell you when to masturbate, when to cum, when to pull your toys away regardless of how needy you were.

And, in the absence of any such partners between your newly exacting standards and inability to sleep with anyone without thinking of someone else, it’s once again going to have to come from you.

You meet his eyes, a new fire within you. “I’ll do better.”

He holds your haze a long moment, his expression one of those enigmas you could spend centuries trying to crack and still turn out to be wrong in the end.

He breaks it off first, turns away from you.

“Then do it. I’ll be waiting.”

You slip out of the room and clear out of the dimension.

You’ll get your discipline back if it kills you.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, shoot me an ask and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in! (All content, all nsfw content, all content for a specific character, all content for a specific fandom, etc.)

[supremechancellorrex]

I was mulling over Harry Potter recently and I think one of the reasons it doesn't really appeal that much to me is the worldbuilding is not my cup of tea. In the context we are given wizards and witches are far too powerful to be hiding from Muggle nations. Wizards have the capability to mind control, memory wipe, easily create Muggle-repelling charms over entire locations that confuse and disorientate, as well as have teleportation, portkeys, Floo powder, spatial magic, invisibility, etc. Wizards sharing a planet with Muggles is positively Lovecraftian, like Cthulhu being just next door and closer.

With basic evolutionary patterns, Darwinism, the fact wizards can be disappointingly human and their leanings to fascist elements in their history (so many Anti-Muggle Dark Lords), they'd have wiped Muggles out by the BCE period, or at least not be hiding from them in a way that's the equivalent of the United States hiding from Monaco. It wouldn't take that many wizards, and in the book we are provided no evidence of our Muggle tech being able to withstand something as dynamic, tricky and reality warping as magic.

Power Dynamics

"They can strike anywhere at any time before anyone knows it."

The power dynamic from what we are shown in the books are very wonky and infinitesimally so unequal one begins to wonder if owls hide from slugs. Perhaps if JK Rowling had depowered wizards more by incorporating clearer weakness and faults in the magic system, such as perhaps no apparition (I mean, they already have portkeys, Floo powder, brooms, greedy wizards), more limits to the mind control like showing Muggles can fight it off, made wards and Muggle-repelling charms more fragile (maybe have that they can only be set up in certain geographical places either choking with magic or idk related to runic stuff and ley lines), as well as perhaps indicate that the average shielding charms can't withstand heavy kinetic onslaught from a heavy duty weapon like an AK-47, etc., it might have felt more understandable why the Muggle World and Wizarding World have the relationship they do.

Because, in the canon, we are given no concrete reasons why the wizarding world chooses to hide other than Muggles being a bother, probably asking for cures to cancer or something. In the canon, we are never presented with any Muggle technology that justifies the Wizarding World being under threat if the Statute of Secrecy breaks. We can speculated, but we can speculate either way depending on our mood. You'd think this would be more defined since the conflict centralises on Wizards and Muggles (including their offspring) existing.

Ethical Concerns For Mugs

"With this rep, I guess we deserve to be mindwiped whatever our consent."

Regarding certain implications in the books, there are a number of ethical concerns that don't feel they're given the weight and attention they deserve considering the themes. One is the overuse of memory charms, a mental violation which are hinted to cause brain damage. Considering how much wizards obliviate and violate Muggles' minds as well as cover up their deaths, that's practically fridge horror. Wizards, both good and bad, also often subvert Muggle democracy and freedom of information, and are quite authoritarian and devil-may-care about this. The Harry Potter narrative never really fully tackles this or shows any real critiques or changes in regards to the Statute of Secrecy and Muggles.

Considering the over all message of the books is anti-authoritarianism, anti-fascism, freedom and even saying Muggles aren't 'lesser' beings, these actions contradicts the themes and kind of makes all the wizards look pretty morally bankrupt when they continue to do this even after the 17 Years Later epilogue. In all honesty, this actually impacts the characterisation of our protagonists in a way I don't particularly like, especially since Hermione is Minister For Magic for a period of time.

Muggles & It's Just Fantasy

"Hi boring people we're fighting an entire conflict over, just passing through."

Suspension of disbelief is a tricky thing and so is the way a writer earns it. I think it would be more okay if Harry Potter was a purely separate fantasy world similar to Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones, but the author has Muggle society (aka our 'logical' world) develop the exact same way despite sharing the planet with the logic-breaking magical world since the dawn of time and evolution. With all the factors shown in HP, these powerful, reality-warping wizards would fuck up our history and society so much we Muggles would either be dead or coughing out live elephants every time we ate a salad on a regular basis.

Over all, I feel the Muggles need to be more of a threat and have more going for them to explain why the wizards are hiding from them. Otherwise a wizard could teleport around the land of Muggles and just put Muggle-repelling charms on the British Parliament, all the nation's hospitals, police stations, banks, etc. and just watch the chaos. Okay, next stop, the Nuclear power stations and missile silos. By the Muggle world existing it intrinsically forces reality into a fantasy that doesn't want it.

[smolwritingchick]

Forced To Believe Masterlist

A Dean Ambrose x OC story! The Shield 4th member.

Summary: Taking place during the start of The Shield's debut in 2012, follow Morgan Lopez's career as she becomes a member of The Shield, revamps herself as The Outspoken Diva and makes a name for herself in WWE.

OC Profile of Morgan Lopez

Chapter 1- So, You Wanna Wrestle?

Chapter 2- My WWE Debut

Chapter 3- Fighting Back

Chapter 4- My First Wrestlemania

Chapter 5- Becoming Heel

Chapter 6- Total Divas Season 1 Episode 1

Chapter 7- The Shield's Girl

Chapter 8- Total Divas Season 1 Episode 2

Chapter 9- The Shield Isn't Unstoppable

Chapter 10- Total Divas Season 1 Episode 4

Chapter 11- Justice Continues Being Served

Chapter 12- The Underdog from Philly

Chapter 13- Catching Up Before MITB

Chapter 14- Money In The Bank 2013

Chapter 15- Total Slap!

Chapter 16- Frustration

Chapter 17- Total Divas Season 1 Episode 5

Chapter 18- I Know What I Have To Do

Chapter 19- Do You Know Who I Am!?

Chapter 20- Total Divas Season 1 Episode 6

Chapter 21- Army of One

Chapter 22- Wiping That Smirk Off Your Face

Chapter 23- You Look Like You've Seen A Ghost

Chapter 24- Total Divas Season 1 Episode 7

Chapter 25- Mommy Knows Best

Chapter 26- Revenge Is Sweet

Chapter 27- Total Divas Season 1 Episode 8

Chapter 28- Is That You Being Serious?

Chapter 29- In Due Time

Chapter 30- Trying To Gain Momentum

Chapter 31- The Slammy Awards

Chapter 32- That Was A Miracle

Chapter 33- The Answer Is No

Chapter 34- Tribute To The Troops

Chapter 35- Morgan's Answer

Chapter 36- Move Thief

Chapter 37- Meeting Hot Rod

Chapter 38- Respect

Chapter 39- I Hate Snakes

Chapter 40- If Only You Knew

Chapter 41- Making A Statement

Chapter 42- Yikes

Chapter 43- Sister Abigail

Chapter 44- I Lost Her

Chapter 45- She Belongs To Us Now

Chapter 46- I See What You Want

Chapter 47- Armageddon

Chapter 48- Armageddon Part 2

Chapter 49- That Supernatural Stuff Don't Work

Chapter 50- What Are You Doing!?

Chapter 51- Things Got Personal

Chapter 52- He Kept His Word

Chapter 53- Harley Mode Was Captivating

Chapter 54- Rosa's Mind Games

Chapter 55- Togetherness

Chapter 56- Public Displays of Affection

Chapter 57- The Shield Against The Authority

Chapter 58- Bad News Dinner

Chapter 59- Getting The Upper Hand

Chapter 60- Annihilated

Chapter 61- Catching Up With Old Friends

Chapter 62- Wrestling's Fun

Chapter 63- Get Back Here!

Chapter 64- War

Chapter 65- Trust Is Dead To Us Now

Chapter 66- Confronting The Sellout

Chapter 67- Going Our Separate Ways

Chapter 68- They Can't Control Me

Chapter 69- Clock Is Ticking Morgan

Chapter 70- Outsmarting The Architect

Chapter 71- Closing The Chapter

Chapter 72- I Win (All Hell Breaks Loose)

[lliminall]

excerpts from the group chat | pannacotta fugo x reader

tags: fem reader, implied sexual activity, copious amounts of swearing, borderline crack but I know in my heart they would be this annoying irl

Fuck Heads

Group Chat with Pannacotta Fugo, Narancia Ghirga & Guido Mista

iMessage

Tuesday 4:34 PM

Guido Mista they didn’t have salsa I got u ketchup

Narancia Ghirga ok fuck u

Guido Mista they’re both tomatoes idk why ur bitching

Narancia Ghirga Im not brining ur beer now ur fucking on ur own

Guido Mista please daddy? 🥺

Narancia Ghirga jk princess I got it

Guido Mista fugo I am headed over now be there in 10

Narancia Ghirga be there in 20 running late

4:47 PM

Guido Mista bro I’m here let me in

Guido Mista are u shitting?? open up I’m here

Narancia Ghirga its cus u brought us fucking ketchup instead of salsa

Narancia Ghirga jusy call him hes probably getting his dick wet again

Guido Mista we talked about this he does not have a girlfriend. he is a fucking incel narancia

Narancia Ghirga i was there last week I heard moaning. I told u

Guido Mista then it was porn u dumb fuck

Guido Mista open the FUCKING door

Narancia Ghirga bro literally what are u doing let us IN

Pannacotta Fugo I will fucking kill both of you

Pannacotta Fugo Stop banging on the fucking door.

Guido Mista LET US INNNNN

Narancia Ghirga wtf let us in???

Pannacotta Fugo I’ll let you in but do not speak to her. She’s studying in my room just mind your business

Guido Mista SHE????

Narancia Ghirga BRO ACTUALLY WAS GETTIN IT WET LMAOOO

Guido Mista and why can’t we meet her??

Pannacotta Fugo You fucking organisms. You are not pestering my girlfriend.

Narancia Ghirga BRO

Guido Mista BROOOO

Guido Mista also ok rude

Narancia Ghirga he cant bring her out cus he wiped her out with his 10 inch schlong

Guido Mista u don’t even have a girlfriend ur just embarrassed we caught u jacking off

Pannacotta Fugo I’m coming outside and I’m bringing a fucking weapon

Narancia Ghirga is that why u had us bring some much food I thought u we’re trying to bulk up wasnt gonn a judge tho

Guido Mista my man 💯💯💯

Guido Mista proud of u now let us the fuck in

Guido Mista the food is getting cold bro open the fucking door

7:28 PM

Guido Mista night bro would have gave u ur goodnight kiss but ur girlfriend was right there

Narancia Ghirga wheres my goodnight kiss

Guido Mista come here bby girl i got it for u right here

Pannacotta Fugo You will be two brown stains on the floor by the time I'm done with you

Narancia Ghirga pee ur pannts

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iMessage

7:45 PM

Narancia Ghirga fugo got his dick sucked today. by a real girl

Bruno Bucciarati Why are you telling me this

Narancia Ghirga just thougth u might like to know

message read at 7:47 PM

--

iMessage

7:50 PM

Narancia Ghirga abbachio guess who i saw layin pipe tonight

This user has blocked your number. You are unable to call or text this number at this time.

Narancia Ghirga fugo

Narancia Ghirga dammit

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt.1

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, onesided Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2181

Summary: A year has passed since (y/n) and her brother Jaime fled from King's Landing to the vast and foreign world of Essos.

Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12   Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21  Part 22 Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26 Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40  Part 41  Part 42  Part 43  Part 44  Part 45  Part 46  Part 47  Part 48  Part 49  Part 50  Part 51  Part 52  Part 53  Part 54  Part 55  Part 56  Part 57  Part 58  Part 59  Part 60

Book Two of Heir of Ash and Fire

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

The warm heat that blazed from the sun above the city of Myr hit you hard as you ran through the streets, breathing heavily with burning lungs. Sweat collected at your hairline and ran down your face nearly blinding you.

You had to keep going though.

Around that corner and then another. Leaping over crates and barrels and trying your best not to run into people. They already looked at you as if you were crazy. Surely though they must have seen stranger things than a young lady running around the city with a sword.

One backstreet led you right to a dead end and you internally curse.

A scuffle of a boot behind you alerts you to the man you had been running from. Taking a deep breath you angle your sword.

He charges at you, swinging his sword. You block it but the impact pushes you back against the stone wall. Sword hand trembling, you use all the strength you had acquired to push him back.

“C’mon, little sister.” Jaime grins. He could’ve easily overpowered you. “Utilize what I taught you.”

You willed your sword to slide along his blade as you dodged him, pivoting here and there and blocking each of his attacks. Jaime grinned.

“Good girl.” He praised you and grew even more ferocious with his swings. His feet moving in a dizzying dance as you became his flustered partner. You kept your mind numb though and easily fell into place. That is until Jaime knocked the sword from your hand. You tumble to the ground, still fearful that he might accidentally cut you. Hot dirt and dust kicked up into your face as you panted, trying to catch your breath.

Jaime held out a hand to you. “You did very well this time (y/n). You’re getting better at holding your own. In a fight.”

“Do you think. . .” You suck in air despite it doing very little to relieve your lungs. “Do you think I’ll become as good as you?”

He shrugs and wipes away the dirt from his own face. “There’s always that possibility.”

Ever since making it to Essos the both of you had grown considerably tan from the unrelenting sun that was fixated above.

For you it hadn’t been an easy transition. You felt every bit of the word ‘fugitive’ as you and Jaime had fled to Essos. It was obvious that in Westeros you weren’t safe. Someone had tried to kill you twice and Jaime would be damned if there were to be a third time. The last attempt had unfortunately killed your hand maid Thalina; and as you would find out it was Thalina who instructed Jaime to take you to Volantis if anything were to happen to her. The exact answer of why was still a mystery as even Jaime didn’t know despite having spoken to her.

A year had passed since your time in Westeros. It had just been you and Jaime traveling along the coast of Essos, trying to avoid the land known as Chroyane where the infamous stone men now called their home.

You had learned many things while being in Essos. One of those being that it was difficult for a woman to travel without being harassed, especially one such as yourself who barely spoke Valyrian and looked every bit the part of foreigner.

That’s where the sword in your hand now came into play.

Jaime had been teaching you how to fight with a sword. You couldn’t have asked for a greater teacher than your older brother. In Westeros he was a god among men, even at such a young age. That didn’t change when you landed in Essos. From Braavos all the way to Myr, Jaime still hadn’t lost a fight. There were many men who would try to rob you, even though neither you or your brother possessed anything of wealth. You hadn’t had time to grab anything when Jaime rescued you from the burning Keep.

If anything, you had wished he had been able to rescue Thalina. Neither of you spoke of her much as now her very person seemed to be a mystery. When Rhaella had first brought Thalina into your service, she had seemed a ditzy and clumsy type of girl who had a short term memory of things. A very likeable girl nonetheless. When you were poisoned though, that’s when she seemed to show who she truly was. The story of Azor Ahai and the Long Night, her fluent knowledge of Valyrian. . . The Thalina you had come to know wasn’t actually the real Thalina but someone parading around as a maid. Every night you would think about her. Wonder who it was that killed her for it wasn’t the fire. Jaime had told you that from what he could see, the source that had killed her was a strike to her head. It was a grizzly fact that Jaime had refrained from telling you but you were insistent. You wanted to know what happened that night for you had no clue. You were out like a light thanks to the milk of the poppy you had taken before bed. It was too late for regrets, but you desperately wished that you hadn’t had milk of the poppy. Then maybe Thalina would still be alive.

One thing you didn’t really believe when Jaime told you was that the fire didn’t affect you at all. In fact you were perfectly fine despite the flames roaring around your bed. Your clothes had been partially burned but not your skin. Your skin had remained untouched.

You thought it too weird. How many dreams had you had that involved fire? Never in those dreams had you felt danger from fire. It was instead comforting and soothed your soul, reassuring you that you weren’t alone.

Never telling him of your dreams you had jokingly told him that he was crazy and left it at that.

After your training, you and Jaime return the room you had been staying in for the past couple of nights. It was in a crowded, run down inn, as expected in the lower parts of Myr. Those kinds of places were all that you could afford. They were nothing compared to your home in Casterly Rock or even in King’s Landing. You would make do with what you could afford though. Even though it had been a while ago, Jaime still worried that you were weak from the poison you had ingested last year. He never liked pushing you too hard in your travels. Getting to Volantis quickly wasn’t his first priority; his first priority was your well being and safety. So Jaime would sell his swordsmanship to people who needed it or place bets on who would win in a fight. And of course Jaime always bet on himself and at a high price. You had asked him once what if he were to lose? How would he pay his part of the bet? Jaime would always ruffle your hair at that and with such utter confidence he claimed that he would never lose.

You washed up first while Jaime went out again to earn some more money. Despite being away from home you observed that both of you were rather happy with your new arrangements. There was absolutely no pressure from anyone. No one made you be who you didn’t want to be. Both of you were free to do what you wanted with your life.

The bath water was already becoming diluted with the dirt that had clung onto you. You didn’t care. You sigh and lean yourself against the tub, looking at your small hands. They had roughened and taken on calluses. Blistering and stinging, you never complained when you had first developed them while beginning your sword practice. You took immense pride in them. You had changed so much from the mouse you once were.

Noises from outside actually lulled and relaxed you. There were many times when your mind would become chaotic, loud and full of questions. Why did Thalina want you to go to Volantis? The outside noises helped to drown them out. You had learned to love Essos. It was crazy and wild, so unlike Westeros and you loved it. In Westeros there was so much pressure in being perfect and acting according to your station. Many times you felt like you were suffocating, drowning in your pearls and jewels.

The only other time you had felt such freedom was when you were with Rhaegar. He never made you feel like you had to try and be someone else. Never shamed you if you didn’t act like a regal lady and encouraged you to just be yourself.

A stab in your chest has you viciously shaking your head to rid yourself of thinking about him. Thoughts have him came every so often even though you desperately tried not to think about him. You lean forward, clamping your hands on either side of your skull.

Did he think about you? Was he worried about you?

“No, stop that (y/n). There’s no going back. At least. . . not now.” Jaime hadn’t specified whether or not you would be able to return to Westeros. He hadn’t even said why you needed to go to Volantis. Why not just pick a city in Essos and stay there? Maybe Jaime would want to return to Cersei eventually. You would catch him looking off into the distance with lonely eyes. He had left someone behind too. Even if you did think she was vile, Jaime loved her. Had always loved her since they were children. That and the twin thing that made them connected in a way you would never understand.

“Rhaegar. . .” You whisper, the sound of your wounded voice was crisp in the bathing room. You prayed he was doing okay and that he was safe. * The campaign wasn’t going quite as Rhaegar had imagined. Times like this he missed (y/n). Especially at night when he was too stressed to sleep. He missed waking up next to her, feeling her warmth fill his bed as she had sweet dreams.

Every so often he would feel a deep aching pain in his chest where he thought he would lose himself.

He couldn’t though. He was so close. So close to winning and securing Westeros. But he was tired. Extremely exhausted.

Years ago he had felt such exhaustion while visiting Dragonstone. A young (y/n) would’ve known just the thing to make him laugh and forget about all his worries. His sweet little mouse that loved him so much.

His sweet mouse that burned alive.

His hand clamps down over his mouth as he stifles his cry. He hated thinking about how (y/n) must have died and that he wasn’t there. That was another reason he found it hard to sleep. Nightmares plagued him, endless and constant.

“Your Grace.”

Rhaegar lifts his weary eyes up at an armored Griff. He looked uncertainly at his Silver Prince, knowing from the shadows under his lilac eyes that he was still unable to sleep. “They are ready for you. Aerys’ army awaits on the outskirts of Summerhall. Your troops wait for your command.”

It was then that Rhaegar noticed that his camp had grown deathly quiet. The calm before the storm.

He reaches for his helmet, black as the night with red scales. Red as the blood that would soon be spilt on the battlefield, an ugly red hue that tainted everything it touched. Rhaegar would’ve likened this war to the dance of dragons. But Aerys was no dragon. Maybe decades ago he might have been, but certainly not now. Not even Rhaegar would consider himself a dragon. There were no more Targaryen dragons. Their dynasty had been tarnished too much to think of themselves as so grand.

Staring at it for a moment, Rhaegar contemplates his life leading up to that moment. This isn’t what he would have chosen for himself. He never wanted the life of a king let alone a warrior. Many times when he slept next to (y/n) he would imagine a different life for them. A simple life where he’d be able to live peacefully with her, no concern of warm or political corruption. Only him and (y/n) and their baby. Both were now dead though and what he wanted wasn’t what was best for the kingdom. It wouldn’t be saved by him playing the harp. He had to take up a sword. The Long Night was coming. Maybe not soon, but one day darkness would cover all of Westeros and threaten to swallow it up. When that time came it would need a competent leader which was not his father.

He had to do what was right for Westeros. Even though the two most important people in his world were dead.

Rhaegar covers his wealth of silver hair with his helmet, prepared to shed blood for the good of the realm. Prepared to take down his own father. “Lets go.”