#and some others that I can't think of at the moment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nerdygirlramblings · 1 day ago

Text

someone's in a rut 🤭 and we meet Ren's family (part 1)

a/n: part of this chapter inspired by Broken Beyond Bearing by @lostintransist and by comments from @pyxrin

cw: poorly executed accents, omegaverse biology, heat/rut cycles

Days begin to blur together. A run followed by infiltration and exfil trainings on the moon (what the others called the rubble-strewn field). Or weight training and asset retrieval in the brick, the windowless building in the hangar, before sparring. Grift work, your own term for information retrieval, before the shooting range. Never the same thing two days in a row. On rare occasions, either Soap or Gaz had you along while training recruits. It was the closest thing to working with your old squad.

And each time, just as you find your footing with the advanced field training, Price introduces new elements: time restraints, 'enemy' combatants. You have never felt as lost before, so unsure of your place. The only thing that keeps it from being completely disheartening isn't Gaz's reassurances or Price's praise or Soap's compliments. It's Adam. It's stopping in to requisition a windcheater in your size and hearing how you made it out of the brick faster than Ghost or how Soap struggled for a long time with grift work. It's confirmation from an outside, and thus unbiased, source that your progress is fine. That they won't regret asking for you.

Until Price calls you into his office. All you can think about is how you didn't know about the standardized step size and the trouble it caused on the moon. Or how you went three rounds without finding the needed intel before Price called time. That Soap teasingly pointed out, "Yer thinkin' tae hard," like saying it will make you get out of your own head even though it's all you know how to do. Crowded pubs and loud, dark clubs flash in your memory, each one a failed attempt to manipulate a mark.

You're sure he's going to put you back into the rank and file. Who needs a woman, and an omega at that, who can't master the basic things the task force needs to do. You're terrified and heartbroken before you even get into his office.

The desk seems more imposing than ever, and Price's face, for the first time, is unreadable. Even his scent is locked down, no dying ember smell wafting around. He's smiling, but you've been taking pseudo acting classes from him for more than a fortnight. The smile could easily hide his intentions.

He clears his throat, and you pull your gaze from where you'd been staring at your hands. For the first time since you met the man, Price seems nervous. He reaches up, scratching his beard and running his hand over his scent gland. "Er, we 'ave some leave coming, me an' the others, and I wan'ed ta see if ya'd like to stay here or go home?"

A long moment passes before you respond. "I'm not sure I understand, sir. You take leave tagether, but I'd go home?" The furrow between your brows deepens. Before he can clarify, you ask what's been eating at you. "Is this yer way 'a transferrin' me off the team?" Even you can hear the plea in your voice. Please don't let me go.

"Oh, Ren, no! No. Tha's not what this is," he rushes to say. The blush that creeps up his neck is a surprise. Is he embarrassed?

"'S just, well, we try not to use suppressants unless we're on a mission. Fucks too much wi' the body's natural rhythm, yeah? Throws off anyone on 'em too long." You nod in understanding. If you didn't have such a bad reaction to them - foggy thoughts and slow movements - you'd prefer to be on suppressants all the time. Instead, when your heart hits, you take yourself to medical for a heat-induced isolation. They're horrendous on the system, but it's a short-term problem while you're in the service, though your omega purrs that a pack would remedy that problem.

"So, er, we made the decision years ago to take our leave together when, er, one of the alphas has a rut." He's fully blushing now, and you get it. He's just told you either he or Ghost - he didn't specify, and betas like Gaz and Soap don't have ruts- is going to lose themselves to their base instincts soon.

You're quiet through all these revelations, and he plows ahead, only the faintest hint of ozone in the air to alert you to his distress. "Simon's rut is in another week or so, so we'll take leave from this Wednesday ta the following Friday ta give everyone a cushion on either end for prep and recovery." The room feels warmer, and you know it's because your own internal temperature is spiking, your omega excited about the idea of Simon's knot.

"So, er, ye'll all be gone, sir?" you clarify, forcing your omega to think of other things.

He nods, a hint of smoke in the air. You can smell his distress dissipating, replaced slowly by ease and contentment. "Yes. We 'ave a place on the edge 'a the Lakes. We'll head there and be back after the rut. Adam said yer dad's due with a litter soon?"

The idea that Adam shared that bit of your family with Price puts you on edge until he adds, "Adam suggested ya take leave when we do but go an' see yer family." He rushes to add, "If ya want."

Now it's your turn to be embarrassed. Once again, it's Adam to the rescue. It warms you down to your center that Adam made such a thoughtful recommendation to Price and that Price took it. If you hadn't heard it yourself, you'd think he was takin' the piss.

"Yes, sir," you stammer, lost at what else you could say to this plan. "That would be lovely. I know my family pack will be happy ta have me home."

taglist: @sirbonesly @z-wantstowrite @thriving-n-jiving @cecelia97 @theycallmevalen @boogeysmoth @cryingpages @riley13 @luxylucylou @lucienofthelakes @ilyztwo @chaosundcoffee @lostintransist @thegreyjoyed @honestlymassivetrash @thebumbqueen @maliamaiden

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse 141 #omegaverse tf 141 #a/b/o #a/b/o 141 #a/b/o tf 141 #john price #johnny mactavish #kyle garrick #simon riley #nerdygirl says

199 notes · View notes

samsblades · 2 days ago

Text

✶ natural — sam winchester

cw : gn!afab!reader, fluff & smut, sorta sunshine!reader, post-hunting!au, passing mentions of monsters hunting and guns, nightmares, illness/fever (reader gets sick), consensual somnophilia, oral (r!recieving), swearing, praise, aftercare, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, love), mostly unedited, 5.3K words. requested ! MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY

summary : five times that you and sam are woken in the middle of the night, and one time you get to sleep in.

when you moved into this apartment with sam, you were both worried about having neighbors. you have the middle complex, so there's people upstairs and downstairs. overall, it's actually been pleasant. it feels nice and normal, and you're pretty sure that no one suspects that you and sam were previously monster hunters. mostly because none of your neighbors know that they exist. maybe it's a bit strange that you're a little older now, and just starting your lives, but you've just told everyone that you and sam didn't like what you were doing before, and have decided to start over.

the downstairs neighbors are delightful. lina and isa are just a bit younger than you and sam, brought you homemade bean and rice as a welcome, and told you about the fantastic panadería just a few blocks away. your only complaint might be that their music gets a little loud, and their luckily infrequent yelling matches in furious spanish are even louder.

it's the upstairs neighbors who bother you more. riya is nice, but you think they're too hot and too cool for their boyfriend nate. of course, that's not the problem, nor is it any of your business. for the record, though, sam agrees. it's more so about the middle of the night sex and the poor quality of whatever bed frame they made the awful choice of purchasing.

the first time they woke you up, it had been less than a week since you'd moved in, and none of the paranoia from your previous life had even begun to wear off for you or sam.

your heart is thundering at the first loud bump that wakes you. sam's hand finds yours just as yours looks for his. your other hand is searching blindly for a gun on your beside table that isn't there. it's in the drawer, still nearby, but hidden now and less accessible than you used to have it. you and sam sit up, eyes quickly adjusting to the dark and ears tuned for any other noises that might be out of place.

another thump nearly makes you open that drawer, but your now sharpened senses register that it's coming from the apartment above you. the next realization is that the sounds are rhythmic, and you just barely catch the sound of a muffled moan.

with that, you collapse back onto your pillow with a light laugh, eyes still bleary with sleep.

"goodness," you say through a breathy laugh, the headboard of their bed banging against the wall with complete insistence. it sounds unstable, honestly. "i think they're actually going to break the bed."

sam laughs with you, laying back down as well and turning on his side. his arm wraps around your waist and he buries his face into the side of your neck, nuzzling your warm skin with the tip of his perfect nose. this is followed with a soft kiss, as usual. you grin. sam can't see or feel it, but he knows it's there. that smile of yours and another soft laugh when the wall receives a particularly harsh bang.

"think this'll happen often?" you lament. "will we have to tell them to get a new bed frame? or have quieter sex?" it's sam's turn to laugh, a sleepy sound that suits him much better than anything loud or bloody.

"might," he murmurs into your skin, all soft and tired now that he knows there's no threat. for a few awful seconds, he thought some monster or hunter or whatever possible enemy had come to ruin your attempt at normalcy together before you'd even finished setting up all the furniture. he's happy that it's just the neighbors with a wobbly bed frame.

almost abruptly, the noise stops. you wait in quiet for a few moments to be sure that you're really being granted silence.

"they're done already?" you tease with a whispery laugh. it's not that sam doesn't have the skill to get you off quickly, or you him, but you tend to last much longer together. quickies aren't your go-to, even if they're required sometimes. now that you have your own place and are starting to settle down, you don't imagine things starting and ending that fast. as for last night, it felt like forever, in the best of ways.

you and sam are courteous enough to have a sturdy, quiet bed, though.

꩜｡⋆

you sleep light when you're feeling poorly. little things like the soreness of your throat or the movements of your upstairs neighbors wake you easily. so a sharp gasp from sam and the tensing of his muscles certainly pulls you out of your sleep. your eyelids seem to stick shut for a moment before fluttering open, and you shift in his arms. his slightly labored breathing goes silence as if he's holding his breath, likely worried that he's woken you and hoping that if he's quiet enough now you'll fall right back asleep.

"nightmare?" you whisper, voice course and barely audible. you resist curling your arm around his middle in case it's one of those dreams that makes touch difficult for him.

"sorry," he murmurs, answering your question with the tone of his voice rather than his words. he sounds tense and tired, and you know definitively now that his dreams have been unkind to him. you wish he'd never apologize for accidentally waking you. it's not as if you don't do the same sometimes.

"don't be sorry," you insist, as usual. his arms tighten around you, and you take it as a sign that you can do the same if you like. instead of slipping around his waist, your hand reaches up to settle into the soft hairs at the base of his neck. you pull his head close, pressing a kiss to his forehead, lingering long. he's still all tense and closed off. "you don't have to talk about it if you don't want. but talking about it won't… it won't make everything come back. talking about it won't change what we have now, you know that. we're allowed to talk about it. any of it."

"i know," he says, sounding like he doesn't really know it. you give a soft sigh, but don't push it. maybe you'll talk about it later, when he's ready. it's hard to focus on learning to live again when you're still haunted by the past. sometimes it's easier to just let the past be, to know that there are monsters in the closet, but keep the doors shut anyway. the understanding you have of each other has to be enough, and you've found so far that it is.

"you okay?" you decide to ask instead, voice as soft as it can be while your throat hurts like this.

he nods, then tilts his head up. "i'm okay." his lips find your chin as a reassurance, a promise. "it wasn't… as bad as it could've been." he's calming slowly, melting into your hold, so you suppose he's not lying. it's true that you've seen him worse.

"doesn't mean it wasn't bad at all," you murmur in protest, but not with any force. you follow it with another kiss to his hairline. "think you'll be able to fall back asleep?"

he hums in confirmation. "i'll be fine. but what about you? your throat still bothering you? do you need some tea?"

you give him a hum of your own, but it's not really an answer, just a little noise in response to how sweet he is, always more concerned for you than anyone else. your voice comes out as a grumble, "i think it's getting worse," you admit, "some tea might be a good idea, since i'm awake. i'll get it myself though, you go back to sleep. i'll be quiet."

a huff of air leaves his nose, tickling your neck. "you're funny," is all he says, like it's preposterous to suggest that he go to bed while you make yourself tea. he's too much of a gentleman to let you do that, but you also feel his hold on you tighten, just a bit. he doesn't want to be alone, even just for a few minutes. there is no comfort in being alone in the dark.

you retort with a gentle, "you're right, i'm hilarious. c'mon. since i'm letting you make me tea, it had better be good." he sits up with you, one of his hands still on your waist. his fingers slide to your lower back as you untangle yourself from him and the sheets, and he follows suit right after. he pads through the hallway behind you, overtaking you in the doorway into the kitchen with his hand brushing over the small of your back again before opening the cupboards for a mug.

he doesn't need to flip on a light because the blinds are open and the moon is bright tonight. so you watch him move through the shadowy room, preparing the tea that he knows you'll like the most right now. he makes a cup for himself too, liking the feeling on your eyes on him, never leaving.

the tea does a fine job of soothing your throat for the time being, and calms sweet sam's frayed nerves. he's had awful nightmares for as long as he can remember, but sometimes they're even more haunting now that his days are full of nice things. last week, you took a free ceramics class at the community center together. there's a few plant pots with herbs on the tiny fire escape balcony, and when you're not busy working to get better jobs, you sit and read novels that have nothing to do with hunting monsters.

your pinkies are linked across the little dining room table as steam rises from your mismatched mugs. the table is only outfitted for two, because you could only afford two chairs. that's alright, though, because you don't have anyone to invite over besides maybe the downstairs neighbors. but sam's starting to make friends with someone he volunteers at the library with, and unbeknownst to you, your bright friendliness is making your coworker want to hang out with you after your shared shifts. maybe you'll get a set of plastic chairs to use when there's guests.

꩜｡⋆

sometimes, loads of tea and vitamin supplements aren't enough to keep a nasty cold at bay. despite how nicely sam makes you several cups of tea a day, you're truly and fully ill now.

you're woken in a fit of fever, head fuzzy and cream-colored sheets sticking to you with sweat. for once, your body heat permeates more thickly than sam's, who always runs warm. an achy sigh leaves your parted lips, and your clumsy hands fight to push the plush comforter off your tired limbs.

your restless stirring wakes sam after a few moments, who props himself up on one elbow and runs a hand through his hair, immediately searching for the reason you're awake. his eyes adjust to the dark quickly to catch sight of the light, involuntary pout on your lips. before that even, his hand brushes over your upper arm and he feels the heightened heat of your skin.

"oh, baby," he whispers, reaching over to drape his palm carefully over your forehead. he doesn't have to say anything cliche, like 'you're burning up.' it's quite obvious on its own. he just pulls the thicker blanket from your body, but settles the sheet over you to prevent any chills. his thumb lightly brushes over your cheek. "that any better? i'm gonna get you some tylenol."

you only give a noncommittal hum, but he takes it as permission to leave you for just a moment. if you weren't so uncomfortable, you'd fall back asleep before he even got back. instead, you lay there, senselessly missing him and too exhausted to move.

he returns with tylenol as promised, along with a glass of water and a cool, damp rag. he sets the pills and glass down and carefully settles the rag over your forehead, earning a soft sigh of satisfaction from you. underneath the fabric, the furrow between your brows lessens just a bit. with all the gentleness in the world, he slips his hands under your head to tilt it up and brings the lip of the glass to your mouth. you drink as wordlessly instructed. he sets the water down for a moment and replaces it with one of the two pills. your lips part when he brings it to your mouth, then the cool glass is touching your skin again. both pills go down just fine, and he's settling your head back onto the pillows.

you fail to notice that he's brought the thermometer with him too until he asks you to open your mouth again. "just gonna take your temperature, honey," he murmurs softly. you give him no hassle, letting him tuck it underneath your tongue. when he pulls it out, he gives a little sigh. "definitely a fever, but it's not so bad," he tells you, taking your hand in his before pulling it up to his lips for a kiss to your knuckles.

"come back to bed," you grumble, giving him a weak tug.

"i think you'll get too warm," he protests kindly, "i'll just sit with you."

"there's no chair," you tell him, as if he doesn't know, "and i want you in bed with me. please?" you manage a little smile to try and convince him, looking sweet and tired and a little pitiful too, in the way that's so endearing it makes his heart hurt.

"i'm sorry, but i don't want to make your fever worse," he insists, voice still as gentle as it ever gets. "i'll bring a chair from the kitchen, okay?"

"but it's the middle of the night," you sigh, your smile slipping. it's too much effort to keep it there. "sleep with me."

"honey. it's already five in the morning. you know that's not too early for me," he says. it's true. in the past, sleeping until five would be a luxury for him. but you don't really care, and it's not the past anymore.

"you're crazy," you tell him, a little furrow settling between your brows.

"i know," he murmurs sympathetically, unfazed by your feverish accusation.

"it's too early for me," you complain. "won't you come back to bed with me? please?" of course, sam has known this entire time that he'd never beat you. it's just a matter of how many times he can deny you before he inevitably caves to your pretty eyes and hoarse voice. your soft 'please' has him ready to wave the white flag for peace; you're going to tear out his heart at this rate. but then your voice quiets even further, like you don't quite want to be heard despite the fact that you need to be understood. "i want you to hold me."

in the blink of an eye, he's kissing your cheek with a soft sort of determination. he doesn't even move a full inch away before he's whispering, "okay. alright, it's alright. i'll hold you. don't worry." then, his long limbs are slipping back under the covers and curling around you until you're settled on his chest, one hand still holding the cool rag over your forehead and your head carefully tilted so you can breathe easier.

he soaks up your heat, and the bottom sheet grows practically damp with your combined sweat. but he doesn't mind one bit, because you fall back asleep, looking far more comfortable and contented than before, for a while.

eventually, he does have to untangle himself from you because a frown settles on your lips and you turn restless in his arms again. he refreshes the cool compress to dab away your sweat and press to your hot skin. after a moment, he decides to prepare a second one for the back of your neck, and maneuvers everything so gently that you never wake until your body decides it must have water.

you wake with a little moan that he'd find sweet were it not an indication of your discomfort. he gets you more water, then lulls you back to sleep with his touch until it's time for another dose of tylenol.

꩜｡⋆

this moan is sweet, still hoarse and quiet, but only from sleep rather than sickness. your sounds start as little huffs of breath, a sigh here or there as his hands trace down your body and tug at your underwear, soft and quiet as to not wake you right away. he wants you to wake to the feeling on his lips on your hot, wet skin.

you most certainly do wake to that, a soft moan escaping your lips as your body gains awareness and your mind catches up to it. sam hums into your sensitive pussy as he feels you rouse, his hands gently holding your legs apart. he gives your thighs a sweet squeeze, then wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, softly at first to pull another noise from your lips.

he's easily successful, a quiet grunt leaving your lips as your tired arms reach down for some sort of contact with him. aside from his face buried in your cunt, of course. one hand finds purchase in his hair and the other curls around three of his fingers, holding his hand there against your thigh. your hips squirm as his tongue laves over you, your movements sluggish with sleep.

"sam," you sigh, out extra sensitive after just waking up and too tired to have complete control of your body. you're not loud, but you're noisy, letting out sweet and unfiltered sounds almost every time you breathe out. he gets more insistent the longer you're awake, letting his hunger and desperation show. his grip on you tightens, and his nose bumps relentlessly against your clit as he eats you out like he'd swallow you whole if he could.

the pleasure is overwhelming, overpowering, and you can't seem to keep a steady grip on him. your hands are still weak with sleep, so you continuously tangle and untangle your fingers in his hair, torn between pushing him away so you can breathe and pulling him closer so that the feeling will never stop.

"jesus," you groan, "please!"

"i got you," he mumbles, quickly so he doesn't have to stray from his task for long at all. "so good. so good for me, you taste so good."

"y-you couldn't.. hahh, help yourself, could you?" you pant out, eyes squeezed shut.

"never," he agrees before giving your clit a suck that tugs your back from the bed and pulls an extra pretty whine out of you.

"fuck," you sigh, "mmm, feels so good. please, sammy." really, you're not begging for anything other than for him to keep going exactly as he is, and and you know he has no plans to do anything but that. he loves this just as much as you do, possibly more. he's a damn addict, so much so that it wakes him up in the middle of the night.

the way he sweetly strokes the inside of your thigh with his fingertips is an easy contrast to the way his mouth moves against you, shameless and ravishing. your hips buck up into his face and your feet scramble for purchase on his hips to try and stay grounded. your thighs tremble with the effort, and sam moans right into you, beyond obsessed with the way you sound when you're sleepy and desperate and overwhelmed like this. it's no wonder he can't help but wake you like this sometimes, you sound like heaven, look like heaven as his eyes adjust to the dark and a sliver of moonlight finds its way into the room.

he gives you everything you need and takes everything he wants all at once, sending you over the edge with a sweet hum and relentless tongue. you clutch him close for a moment of hot ecstasy that may have lasted forever, then sag like a rag doll into the sheets. like always, he can't resist breathing you in, deep and long, and giving one last swipe of his tongue that sends a shudder up your spine.

your eyes flutter open and closed, exhausted by the pleasure and an already tired body. you swear you're still half-asleep, but in the way that you feel like you're floating, mind and body all fuzzy, soft, and satisfied. he stays tucked between your legs, sleepy too, despite being the one who was so ravenous in the first place. his head rests on your thigh, one hand still holding yours, and the other drawing stars over your hip bone.

he presses a kiss to your sweaty skin, his soft as ever and wet with your slick. "i love you," he whispers, "sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night." it's not the first time he's woken you like this, and you certainly hope it's not the last.

"i love you too," you murmur back, voice still raspy. "it's okay. love it when you wake me up like that. feels so good, every time. you're so pretty." you say that last part for no reason at all, other than it being true.

sam feels like blushing. "you're so pretty," he retorts quietly.

"thanks," you smile softly. to him, you shine like the sun, even in the dead of night. you're such a wonderful accompaniment to the moon, he thinks.

꩜｡⋆

neither the moon nor the sun show themselves much during the winter months. it tends to be quite cloudy here. the cold, on the other hand, is pervasive. and you and sam have discovered the horrors of having a landlord who's doing everything he can to avoid paying to fix your unreliable heating system. since it's not completely dysfunctional, he is most definitely stalling.

until it is completely dysfunctional, an issue that is made known to you at about 3:47 in the morning. the first thing you think is that sam must've accidentally stolen all of the blankets like he does sometimes. they'll get wrapped around his long legs, he'll roll over, and the whole plush comforter will go with him, leaving you exposed to the night air. but when you blindly reach for the blanket, you find that it's still snugly laid over you. that's when you begrudgingly open your eyes in confusion. your fingers are cold. the tip of your nose is honest-to-god freezing. and your feet. your poor, poor feet that have slipped out from the blankets and been left for dead in the cold air.

you're not the type to get grumpy. but you are now. you tuck your feet in and curl up against sam's back, seeking out his warmth. but it's too cold to ignore, so you shake sam's shoulder.

"sam, wake up," you groan, cursing his inconsistent sleeping style. sometimes he's the lightest, worst sleeper out there. other nights, he's impossible to wake. as he grows more accustomed to living a safer life, he gets more of those nights where he sleeps like a fallen log. you shake him again and he wakes with a grumble.

"what is it?" he asks as soon as he's awake enough to speak, voice gravelly. "god, it's freezing." he sits up groggily and immediately regrets it. you regret it too, because it leaves more of you exposed too. you chase after him, tucking yourself under his arm and against his chest.

"i think the heating gave out, like really gave out," you complain, trying to steal his body heat. he wraps his arms around you without any qualm, rubbing up and down your arms in attempts to warm you. he knows you get colder than he does most of the time.

"no kidding," he mumbles, pressing an absentminded kiss to the top of your head. "i'll get the space heater and hopefully that'll be enough until the morning." the light annoyance in his voice is indicative of what he plans to do in the morning. that is, call the landlord and demand he gets the heating fixed right away. it's not like the two of you have anywhere else to go without traveling farther than you'd like to. it pains you to let sam untangle himself from you, but the promise of more warmth is enough for you suffer without him for just a few minutes.

he returns with the space heater that you keep in the living room. the bedroom is usually warmer when you keep the door shut, but tonight, that makes no difference. he plugs the heater in, as close to the bed as he can at a safe distance, then wraps the blanket from the couch around your shoulders before climbing back onto the mattress.

despite the cold, you smile at him sweetly and contentedly as he gives you the extra blanket. he's so easy to be in love with.

he anticipates the way that you tuck yourself into him the moment he's laying down with you. and it's not as if he doesn't want you in his arms as much as you do, so he most certainly welcomes it. he settles one hand on the back of your head and pulls you close until your nose brushes against the soft skin of his neck. one of your legs sneaks between his, and he hooks his ankle with yours.

"i guess this is what it's like to have normal people problems, huh?" you whisper, your breath fanning over his neck. he'd love to kiss you senseless right now, but he's too tired and he's pretty sure you are too.

"yeah," he sighs, sounding relieved. "yeah. beats… beats the other stuff."

"even though it's really, really cold," you agree, smiling. he can hear the smile in your voice.

"even though it's really, really cold," he echoes. "it'll warm up."

he's right. this sort of thing passes. it gets better. the space heater serves its purpose, eventually warming the little bedroom enough that you can fall back asleep. the tile floor of the kitchen is hell in the morning, of course, and you spend the rest of the day in the library together after convincing the landlord to have everything fixed.

the weather warms too, and the relentless cloudiness fades into bright blue spring mornings. the blinds are always left closed on friday nights so that the rising sun won't wake you early on saturday mornings. it's been a blessing. sam still wakes up early sometimes, but sometimes he sleeps in late with you.

no alarms go off this morning; you and sam were up late last night watching a movie you found at the library. he really prefers vhs movies, but he'll settle pretty easily for cds. vhs is too hard to find these days, which is a shame. after the movie, you stayed up much later than intended, sprawled in bed while discussing the movie in depth. it was the sort of movie that was easy to watch, entertaining and pretty, but thought-provoking all the same. maybe it's because the mundane is something so special to you and sam that you could talk about it forever.

the blinds don't block out all the light, especially when it's so sunny like it is now. but it makes waking gentler and kinder while still letting you love the light of the morning.

gentle really is the right way to describe how you wake this morning. there's nothing particularly special about it, but that's what's so lovely. it's just a breath in, then a breath out and the fluttering of eyelids. it's a moment of peace, but the moment never ends. there's no threat of monsters or a hunt or the end of the world.

there's just sam and his heavy arm wrapped around your waist, grounding you, keeping you near him. there's sunlight on the white wall and a green plant in the corner of the room. pillows and blankets you call your own, a stuffed armchair, and a closet of clothes. sam wears sweaters and tshirts and sometimes even slacks rather than jeans these days. you can't stop telling him how handsome he looks when he's comfortable.

you don't move for a little while, and you let your eyes fall closed again. maybe you fall back asleep, maybe not. it doesn't really matter. nothing really matters, nothing but this. even if there's things like rent and jobs and a leaky sink. they don't have to matter until later.

then, because you're hopelessly in love, you open your eyes when they start to feel less heavy with sleep and turn to look at sam. there's no slight frown on his lips, no furrow to his pretty brows. he's content, he's safe, he's not so afraid anymore. if you were to count your blessings, his happiness would be the first thing to come to mind.

his body lets him rest without worry. staying up to talk about movies for fun is allowed now. it has no consequence, outside of a yawn or two while washing the dishes. but he gets to sleep in for as long as he'd like today.

maybe it's your staring that finally wakes him. the weight of your gaze, heavy with affection. the first thing he does when roused back into consciousness is smile. soft and sleepy and delighted to see you. then he kisses you. it would be without warning if he weren't moving so slowly. but you're ready for him, happy to have him.

this morning, he is insistent on having you close, so the moment his lips are no longer on yours, his arms are wrapping around your middle and holding you tight. he pulls you into him with a quiet grunt.

"good morning, sweetheart," he rumbles softly, lips brushing over the skin of your temple.

"good morning, love," you murmur back, voice just as sweet as his.

"i love you so much," he tells you, hand rubbing up and down the expanse of your back.

of course, you answer, "i love you, too. so much." his hand slips under your shirt, like you'll never be close enough, and touching your skin will make it better. you huff in protest and arch against him just a bit. his fingers are cold, but only for a moment. then you're melting into him and sighing in contentment.

"the weather's supposed to be nice. like yesterday. we could walk to the park," you whisper.

"later," he answers simply, ducking his head to press his nose to yours, then kiss the skin under your eye. "let's just lay here a while.

you can't help but grin. "okay. later." you kiss his cheek and he smiles back, then closes his eyes again. the smile stays on his face and you think that maybe he's never looked more beautiful than he does now.

"i love you," you say again, because you just have to.

he hums softly and his other hand slips under your shirt, his fingertips pushing gently into the plush of your lower back. "i love you," he echoes.

nothing aches, not right now. there's growing pains and old scars and sores that will never really go away. but in this moment, nothing aches save for the kind of ache that love gives. and it's a lovely sort of ache. the kind that could make your eyes all misty in the happy way. like you're so grateful to be where you are that it almost hurts.

magic is real. so are monsters and gods and demons and angels. but this moment is a miracle in a way that it has nothing to do with that sort of thing. it's simple and normal and maybe you've romanticized it because of the way you lived before. but you don't think that's such a bad thing. living like this with sam… it's natural.

141 notes · View notes

pineconepie · 3 days ago

Note

parental yandere guardian angel perhaps?? 👀

TW: Violence, infantilization, mentioned stalking(?), parental yandere, alcohol, attempted mugging

...

You drag out a long sigh, not bothering to look the presence you know is next to you in the eye. For days he's been following you around like some puppy looking for attention, and you're more than tired of it.

"I do not like these bars," Seradiel murmurs. "There's all sorts of harmful people around. Are you trying to make my job harder?"

"A pointless job, might I add," you chuckle humorlessly. "You don't need to watch after me like I'm some baby. And for the record, you don't need to be sitting next to me 24/7, either."

At first, you thought Seradiel was crazy when he claimed to be your guardian angel, but ever since you nearly got ran over from not looking both ways on the street, the dude had been following you everywhere like some sort of shadow.

He said he had been guarding over you ever since you were a newborn, but decided to make his presence known ever since that incident.

He would appear out of nowhere in your house while you were sleeping and making sure you're breathing right, or follow you on walks, protecting you from any potential danger.

Seradiel's frown deepens. "Either way, you won't approve. If I watch you from afar, you claim that's creepy; but if I make myself known, you get annoyed."

You give Seradiel a pointed look. "That's because most people don't have an angel follow them around all the time."

He shakes his head. "That isn't true. Everyone has an angel. Some are just less dedicated than I am."

A groan escapes you. What kind of excuse is that?

You wave him off. "Can you at least, I don't know, sit at another table? The waiters keep looking our way since they can't see you and probably think I'm talking to myself like a crazy person."

"No, they can see me. I just don't have wings in anyone else's vision," he claims. "They're probably giving funny looks because of our conversation."

"Whatever," you mutter under your breath. "Why are you so dedicated, as you claim?"

He ruffles your hair. "Because you're like my baby. Sure, you may have biological parents, but even they don't share the same kind of connection with you as I do. After all, I've been watching over you ever since your first moments of life. I've spent more time with you than anyone else on this Earth has. And you were such a sweet child. Sometimes I wonder if you miss those days as much as I do."

"Not at all," you mutter, even though that isn't true at all. "So you just watched me my whole life?"

"Of course. Therefore, you are essentially like my child. And no good parent would allow their child to wander around such a sketchy establishment like this." He motions towards the dimly lit, rather unimpressive bar.

"Any good parent would let their adult child do what they please, because they're an adult." You take another sip from your cup. The liquid burns your throat going down, and you almost immediately feel drowsier and more light-headed. Seradiel yanks the cup away from you. "Hey! What the hell, I paid for that!" You reach for it back.

"You've had too much already," he scolds. "Now let's leave." He grabs your hand and leads you out. With you stumbling after him, you finally make it onto the street outside and head home.

The walk is silent other than your occasional hiccup. But every few minutes, Seradiel makes sure you're still lucid.

"Just leave me alone," you whine. "Please. I want just a minute of independence, I can't do anything without you hovering over me! Is that too much to ask?"

Seradiel's eyes narrow. "Is that so?" Without warning, he lets go of your hand. "Fine. If you'd like to be a brat, we can play your game."

He disappears in an instant. Despite the fact that you were begging for him to stop being so clingy, you find yourself strangely unsettled at his departure, as if something's missing.

Nonetheless, you decide to ignore it; he'll come back eventually.

You continue your drunken stumble back home.

However, you barely make it another block before you hear the sound of footsteps behind you.

Normally you would've ignored it, but combined with how late it was and how sketchy the bar itself was, you pick up your pace. Whoever was behind you speeds up also.

Now more than nervous, you start running, not caring about how lightheaded you felt and how awful your body ached.

Whoever was following you started running after you now, and in the dead silence of night you can hear their rapid steps thumping against the ground.

Their heavy breathing rings through the air, and your heart drops when you realize they were gaining on you.

Before you knew it, a firm hand wrapped around your arm, yanking you to a stop.

The person has a knife, dressed in all black clothing, looking eerily similar to someone who was ready to commit murder.

"Empty your wallet now," he hisses. "And don't make any noise. If you try to scream, I'll cut off your fucking tongue."

You scramble to empty your wallet. There isn't much money in there, which just pisses him off.

"That's it? That can't be all you have," he snarls. He backhands you in anger, causing you to stumble back. You rub your face where he struck you, crawling backwards as he rummages through your things himself. However, he only finds a couple pieces of gum. He looks even more angered by this outcome, reaching for his knife again.

"Seradiel!" you cry out, shutting your eyes tight. "I'm sorry! Please help me!"

Suddenly, there's a gust of wind. Your eyes fly open, and in front of you is none other than Seradiel. He stands tall, looming over your mugger with his white wings stretching out like a curtain to conceal you. His golden hair shines in the moonlight. Although usually calm, his demeanor has completely changed.

His eyes are now slit into furious daggers glaring straight ahead at your mugger.

"What the hell..." the man mutters.

With no words, Seradiel reaches forward and grabs the assailant by the neck, throwing him across the road and into a wall like the assailant is merely paper trash.

Seradiel begins to stalk towards the mugger, who's coughing violently from the impact. "I usually hold empathy for criminals like yourself; just trying to survive. But then you decided to try and hurt my child," Seradiel growls. You've never seen such fury radiating from his usually calm appearance. He looks more than capable of murdering the mugger then and there.

The assailant scrambles backwards, attempting to stand. Unfortunately for him, before he can rise Seradiel is upon him again. The angel knocks the mugger off their feet and kicks them, sending them flying backwards.

He grabs the knife he dropped, twirling it between his fingers.

"Hmm. Should I kill him?" Seradiel asks, turning towards you. He doesn't even look remorseful. On the contrary, he looks emotionless; he doesn't care if the criminal lives or dies. It was like he was asking you to pass him salt on the dinner table.

"No," you whisper. "Please don't. I just want to go home. Let's just go home, please."

"Alright. As long as he apologizes." He turns back to the assailant. "Well?"

The attacker sobs and nods. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"

"And give them back their belongings," Seradiel adds.

The mugger obliges and hands all your belongings back to the angel. Once Seradiel steps aside, he scrambles away until you can't see him anymore.

He turns to face you again, his expression immediately softening. You instinctively take a step back. Seeing him switch demeanors so quickly is shocking.

"My love," Seradiel murmurs softly. "I told you it wasn't safe here. Are you okay?" He approaches you cautiously. He takes out his handkerchief to dab the bleeding scratch on your cheek. Then he inspects you, making sure you haven't sustained any other injuries. "See what happens when you walk alone? This is why I need to watch over you at all times. Does that not make sense to you yet?"

He puts his arms underneath your legs and back, picking you up. You bury your face in his robes.

"I don't like bars," you mumble quietly. "I promise I won't go to another one."

"Not just bars. Everywhere is dangerous. It's a good thing I'm your guardian angel; the world would eat you alive otherwise," he mumbles. "Oh, little lamb. What will Papa do with you?" He kisses the top of your head while carrying you.

It's not the first time he's referred to himself as that word. Papa.

In some ways, it makes sense; he does act very fatherly and treats you like his baby.

Still, you have mixed feelings about him. You still can't wipe the vision from your mind of him brutally beating up your mugger just minutes ago.

"Aren't angels against violence?" you rasp.

He shakes his head. "Not in cases such as those. Angels protect others. Most just happen to use violence as the last resort. And I will always protect my children."

"How many children do you have?"

"You're the only one," Seradiel coos. "And trust me, I love you very much. I hope this was a valuable lesson for you."

You fall into silence once again, clutching his robes.

When you finally arrive home, he opens the door for you. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"...thank you, for protecting me," you mutter under your breath.

He gives you a smile, but it's far from gentle. No, it looks almost... proud, victorious. "Of course. Just remember that I'll always be here to keep you safe."

#parental yandere #familial yandere #platonic yandere #forced age regression #yandere #yandere age regression #forced agere #seradiel oc

132 notes · View notes

dammit-tazmuir · 2 days ago

Text

I have crossed the face of the universe. I poison it to match my grief.

That's always been it for every Resurrection Beast including John. Nona is the only exception, and I highly suspect that's only as Nona. Alecto, after all, was a monster in a human suit from the moment he resurrected her, and then he went and made her worse. Nona is only able to be her purest self by making herself forget her grief.

But Alecto still loved, even before she was Nona. She still loved John even in the immediate aftermath before he'd raised anyone else, and she loved Anastasia enough to swear an oath and want to see her, and G1deon and Pyrrha may have feared her but they saw something in her they still liked.

Varun still loves, yearning not just for revenge but to help and support their sister, even when they don't understand her, even when it makes them confused and furious that she would love these creatures, even when she's nothing like she used to be.

John still loves, too. He's never as sentimental as you think, sure, but far more than that line gives him credit for, I'd think; Augustine thought the retribution was purely symbolic, but it really is about an unattainable revenge; he made himself God and he still can't change time. He's never stopped caring, and that's not limited to hatred.

He never has to show Harrow any kindness; the only person who would have begrudged him at all for saying "not worth it" is Ianthe and she would have held her tongue. The two-faced bullshit is appalling in itself but every risk he takes (a lot) is fully unnecessary. When he confirms what her parents did, he projects his own self-defense, absolutely, but in his mind he's showing solidarity and genuine care.

And from "Hi, not fucking dead, I'm dad" onward, he seems to have at least some genuine investment in Gideon as a person. Like he 100% has shady ulterior motives tied to her sharing the god-soul and stuff, I'm not denying that, and maybe latching onto the father-daughter bond is just the easiest way to pull her close. But with Ianthe's "he's so fragile right now" and what a mess it sounds like he's been and the fact that none of that necessitated inventing a whole new thing for Ianthe to be part of too, idk, it really feels like he's trying to fill a void. John does care, and wants to care, even if he ultimately cares about himself more. He wants to maintain plausible deniability enough to lie to himself that he's justified, but like, that's not a given. Not everyone cares about being able to do that. Wanting to pretend he's Not The Bad Guy is itself something.

And we know what John did to Varun and the others, but he didn't kill earth alone; he delivered the killing blow, and a massive one, but she was in agony slowly dying for a long time.

And there's no one we could turn to and ask what they did to get her to that point or make John this way. You can't even blame the governments and the trillionaires, not fully, because it didn't start with them. It's so big and so old. Earth is bigger and older but even she can only take so much.

Hey. Just thought of something.

In Nona the Ninth, when Nona’s pretending to be Harrow and needs to avoid Ianthe’s questions, she screams in the resurrection beast’s language. Specifically, she yells “Help!” And Varun starts dropping heralds, because Varun is trying to help.

Now, this implies that the resurrection beasts can feel things like empathy. Which means they��re not just monsters. Every single one of them is just as capable of loving and being loved as Nona, but because they were created in a terrifying storm of death, they reacted in fear, and were treated like monsters as a result. And that’s so fucking tragic!

These thinking, feeling beings, ghosts of murdered worlds, who could and can know love, but have only ever known hate and fear. I feel for them, I really do.

558 notes · View notes

reids-princess · 3 days ago

Text

۶ৎ She said yes Spencer Reid

Hold onto This for me .

⤷ ─────In which The moment “Spencer.” gets back to you, he wasn’t going to let anything—not work, not fear, not uncertainty—stand in the way of his future with you.

The ring took forever to find on Pinterest but it’s so pretty in what I imagine for elegant look .

I hope you enjoyed this as much as the last one please consider re blogging in liking your motivation keeps me going .

Fiancé!Spencer Reid x fem!reader (fiancé) 1.5K x cute comfort overwhelmed moments anxiety fluff x Author notes I had fun writing this one I enjoyed writing it hope you like reading it

Flashback

Some girls may adore diamonds, but Spencer knew you preferred pearls. Choosing the perfect ring wasn't easy for him.

He visited a few different stores, searching for something that would suit you—a ring that reflected your personality,’ elegant, sweet, loving, and caring.

He thought about how your face would light up when he asked you to be his, how overjoyed he would be to call you his wife. It was about finding something as beautiful as you were.

Then he found it. It was at the last store he visited. He pointed it out in a glass display case, surrounded by a few other rings.

He told the jeweler that was the one he wanted. Spencer could already picture how your face would light up when he proposed. He could see that ring on your tiny hand. Your hands were smaller than his, but to him, they were perfect.

Now ⤷ ───── "Your" POV.

You couldn’t believe that just over an hour ago, you saw Spence pull out the velvet box from his cardigan pocket. Inside it was the ring, resting in the palm of your hand, your heart racing. You wanted to say yes, but he left before hearing your answer.

The ring was beautiful, sitting in the palm of your hand. You couldn’t believe Spencer had proposed to you. You had wanted him to for a while, and you had always imagined it in your head—his mom would be there, your mom, your twin brother and sister, and their families.

He would be down on one knee, asking for your hand. Tonight, though, tonight was just as perfect—the two of you alone, before Hotch called him in for another case.

Your phone rang, breaking through the whirlwind of your thoughts. Reaching for it, you saw it was Hotch. Wait, what's going on? You answered quickly, your heart racing.

"Hotch, is everything okay?" you asked, trying to steady your voice.

"I... I can't explain right now," Hotch said, his tone firm but not without concern. "Just come down to the BAU. Please."

"Hotch, please, tell me everything is okay," you pleaded, your pulse quickening. But before you could say more, the line went dead. He’d hung up.

Hotch had known about Spencer's proposal and that he hadn’t gotten his answer. So, with his usual practicality, Hotch thought it would be best if you came down to the BAU headquarters to give Spencer your answer—whatever that answer may be.

You slid the ring onto your left hand, your fingers trembling as you grabbed your jacket, keys, and purse. Panic was starting to creep in. What if I lose him? No.

You couldn’t think like that. He’s fine, he’s gotta be. It’s Spencer, you reminded yourself, trying to steady your breathing.

As you rushed out the door, your mind raced, a knot forming in your stomach. I can't lose him… I can’t lose him now.

You slid into the driver’s side of the SUV, quickly buckling up. You adjusted your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable. Being short definitely didn’t have its advantages when it came to driving, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Your mind was elsewhere, racing with thoughts of Spencer, and you had to get to him.

You started the engine and headed down the two streets from yours and Spencer’s shared apartment. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as your mind raced, each moment feeling heavier than the last.

When you finally came to a stop and turned into the parking lot of the BAU headquarters, your heart was pounding. You took a deep breath before stepping out of the SUV, trying to steady yourself.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you walked into the building, startling you for a moment. You quickly pulled it out,

seeing a message from Garcia.’

"Lover boy proposed to you? And left without getting the answer? So, what are you gonna say?"

The words hit you like a wave, and for a second, you froze in place. You knew Garcia’s playful tone, but the weight of her message only deepened the anxiety already churning inside you.

You walked into the building, your nerves flaring with each step. The officer at the front desk gave you a warm smile when you showed your visitor’s pass. "You’re here to see Dr. Spencer Reid, right?" he asked, already knowing the answer. It felt surreal, but you nodded, showing him your visitors pass , your heart both racing and aching at the thought of him.

You walked into the elevator, your hands trembling as you pressed the button for Level 6. Your heart raced. I just need to know he’s okay. Once I know he’s alright, I’ll say yes, you thought to yourself, trying to calm your nerves. The elevator felt like it was moving slower than usual, and every second felt like a lifetime.

When the doors finally opened, you stepped out into the bullpen. The BAU team was gathered around Spencer, and his eyes immediately found yours. As soon as you walked in, his gaze locked onto you, never leaving.

"Spence, you’re okay?" You said, your voice shaky as you looked at him, trying to make sense of everything.

You stepped into the bullpen, your eyes immediately finding Hotch. "Hotch called me," you explained, your heart still racing. "He asked me to come down to the BAU…

Spencer stepped toward you, his expression full of regret. "I should’ve waited," he said, his voice thick with frustration. "I should’ve stayed to hear your answer. It’s been driving me crazy." His eyes were filled with a mixture of guilt and longing, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

You could see it in his face—he wasn’t just worried about the proposal. He was worried about you and the uncertainty that had built between you both in the last hour. His vulnerability was something he rarely showed, and it only made your heart ache.

He pulled you in and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close. "Spence," you murmured, feeling a little bashful under his gaze. "They’re,” watching me, aren't they?”

He smiled softly, his eyes warm with affection. "Are you gonna leave lover boy hanging?" Derek chimed in from across the room, his teasing tone light, but you could feel the warmth in his words.

You giggled softly, a sound Spencer adored. He couldn’t help but smile even wider, his heart swelling at the sound of your laughter. It was one of the little things that meant the world to him. You looked up at him shyly, but his gaze was soft, full of love and patience.

You slowly showed Spencer your hand, the ring now resting delicately on your finger—the same ring he had proposed with. The weight of the moment hit you, and your heart swelled.

"Does this mean it's a yes?" Garcia chimed in from behind, her voice full of excitement and a hint of teasing.

You smiled, your chest tightening with joy and relief. "Yes," you replied, your voice soft but steady. "I will marry you, Dr. Spencer Reid."

Spencer’s face lit up with pure happiness, and before you could even take another breath, he swept you into his arms. He spun you around, your laughter echoing through the room, before gently dropping you to his waist, holding you tight. Without another word, he kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with all the passion, love, and relief that had built up between the two of you.

I may do a part three .. as a request I did part two I hope it lives up to your expectations.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #i love spencer reid #engaged to Spencer Reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid fics #my wriitng #my blurbs #i do be yapping #spencer reid fanfiction

103 notes · View notes

jazzy96scorpio · 2 days ago

Text

The Weight of Longing

Description: Girl [You] gets majorly hooked on her Step dad Joel..Things get super awkward when he catches her...humping a pillow. Forbidden feelings, power plays, and a whole lot of messed-up tension follow.

Pairing: You / Step dad! Joel Miller

Warnings ⚠️: Adult Content, Minors do not interact, explicit sexual content, age gap (Sorry not sorry), dominance/submission, infidelity, oral sex (fem. rec), unprotected sex, first time sex (virgin!), SMUT.

Note: If you're easily shocked, maybe grab a pillow to hide behind (or, you know, use for other purposes). Just remember, this is all fiction 😉 Well, don't say I didn't warn you!

P.S. This story contains a significant age gap and some really filthy stuff. If that's not your thing feel free to skip this one. No judgment here!Now, go forth and get your fictional freak on!

Fic inspired by video of @daddyyss

The screen door slams behind you, the familiar whine of its spring echoing through the yard. Joel's out back, his broad shoulders hunched as he works, the shovel biting into the earth.

'Hey,' you say, your voice a little louder than intended. 'What are you doing?'

He straightens, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His eyes, a shade of grey that always seem to hold a storm, flicker over you. 'Your mom wanted some flowers planted. She's at your grandma's. She'll be back tonight.'

'Oh.' You knew Grandma hadn't been feeling well. 'Is she okay?'

'She'll be fine.' His tone was clipped, dismissive. 'Where have you been?'

'The lake,' you replied, 'with some friends.'

'I hope you weren't fucking around and drinking,' he said, his voice hard. 'You know I don't approve of that shit. And your mom's gonna be pissed.'

'I didn't do anything bad,' you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

'Get me a beer,' he ordered, turning back to his digging. 'And go study or something.'

You bring him the beer, the cold bottle sweating in your hand. He takes it with a grunt, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. 'I'll order a pizza,' he says, his voice rough. 'For dinner.'

'Okay,' you manage, and retreat to your room, the image of his broad shoulders and the way his worn shirt stretched across his back burned into your mind.

You remembered the first time you saw him. Your mom had brought him home, a surprise, a man she'd been seeing. He was older, yes, but undeniably handsome. His huge hands, the way his worn t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, the rough, almost dangerous look in his brown eyes, the salt-and-pepper curls that framed his face – it was all so different from the boys you knew. A thrill, forbidden and exciting, had shot through you.

Day by day, you found yourself drawn to him. The way he moved, the sound of his voice, even his gruff criticisms – it all fueled a growing obsession. You wanted him, a raw, desperate need unlike anything you'd ever felt for any boy you'd kissed or dated.

Inside, you try to distract yourself, scrolling through your phone, but his presence fills the room, a phantom sensation. You can't shake the feeling of his eyes on you, the way his voice rumbled when he spoke. A wave of heat washes over you, a restless energy that settles low in your belly. You find yourself thinking about him, about the way he moves, the strength in his arms.

The feeling intensifies, a raw, undeniable desire. You grab a pillow, burying it between your legs and begin to move, the friction a poor substitute for what you crave. Your breath hitches, your body arching, lost in a haze of imagined touches. You imagine his hands on you, his lips on your skin, his dick inside you..

Suddenly, the air shifts. A shadow falls across you. You freeze, your heart slamming against your ribs. You hadn't heard the knock. You hadn't heard the door open. Joel stands in the doorway, his expression a mask of anger.

Panic floods you. You scramble to lie down, pulling the blanket up to your chin, your face burning with shame and fear.

He asked, his voice low and dangerous, 'What the hell are you doing?'

'Nothing,' you stammer, your voice thick with tears.

His expression hardens. 'Don't lie to me. I saw what you were doing.' The words hang in the air, heavy with accusation.

A wave of shame washes over you, so intense it feels like a physical blow. Tears stream down your face, hot and stinging. You can't meet his eyes.

'I caught you again, you little slut,' he drawls. The words cut deep, a reminder of a previous moment he caught you.

Just like in the bathroom, a few weeks back, you think, the memory flashing through your mind: behind the door, the desperate, hurried touches, the sudden creak of the handle turning, his silhouette filling the doorway, his eyes cold and unforgiving. He had watched you then, too.

He steps closer, his presence filling the room, suffocating you. 'Why are you doing that, huh? Imagining some of your fuckboys?'"

You told him, your voice trembling, 'No, Joel. I'm not… I wasn't…' You couldn't bring yourself to say it, to admit the truth that burned in your chest. The thought of him, the forbidden desire, was a shameful secret you couldn't bear to reveal.

His expression darkened. 'Are you fucking around with some boys, huh?' he demanded, his voice rising.

You remained silent, tears streaming down your face.

'I'm gonna punish you for that behavior,' he said, his voice hard. He stepped closer to the bed, his shadow looming over you. With a swift movement, he yanked the blanket away, leaving you exposed. 'You need a lesson, lady. A lesson on how to behave in my house.'"

He told you to get up, his voice leaving no room for argument. He gripped your arm, his hands surprisingly strong, and pulled you onto his lap.

You were surprised, a flicker of fear mixing with a strange, undeniable thrill. His touch, though rough, sent a shiver down your spine.

He slapped your ass, the sharp sting echoing in the quiet room. 'I told you not to lie to me,' he growled.

'I'm sorry, Joel,' you whispered, your voice thick with tears.

'Tell me the truth,' he demanded, his eyes boring into yours. 'Who were you imagining, little slut? You were so horny you were humping a pillow, huh?'

The words hung in the air, raw and humiliating. You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, in a rush, the truth spilled out. 'You, Joel…I want you…'

A low growl rumbled in his chest, followed by a harsh, almost triumphant laugh.

He says, a smirk playing on his lips, 'I know it, sweetheart. I've noticed the way you look at me.' He slaps your ass again, harder this time, the sting bringing tears to your eyes.

'You want Daddy's cock, don't you?' he asks, his voice low and suggestive.

You can only nod and hum in response, your body trembling with a mixture of fear and desire.

'Turn around,' he commands. As you turn, his right hand drifts down, settling on the damp fabric of your panties.

He gently rubs against your soaked pussy, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. 'So wet for me, aren't you?' he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. 'Just thinking about me makes you leak like this.'

A moan escapes your lips, a sound you can't suppress. You arch your back, pressing yourself against his hand, craving more of his touch.

'Mmm, that's it,' he whispers, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh beneath the wet material. 'You're a dirty little thing, aren't you? So eager for Daddy's attention.'"

You whisper, your voice thick with desire, 'Yes, Daddy. I need you so bad… please…'

He kneels before you, a predatory smile playing on his lips. With a slow, deliberate movement, he removes your soaked panties, his eyes never leaving yours. 'Such a needy little thing,' he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement. 'Begging for it.'

He lowers his head, his breath hot against your swollen clit. His tongue darts out, licking the sensitive flesh, then swirling around your entrance. A moan escapes your lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure. He begins to suck harder, his mouth a warm, wet suction, pulling and teasing. 'That's it,' he growls against your core.

'Come for your Daddy,' he growls against your core. 'I wanna taste it.' He grips your breast, his thumb circling your nipple, as he continues to lick your clit, slowly slipping a finger inside you.

You’re overwhelmed, a wave of sensation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. No one has ever touched you like this.

He continues to stroke you with his fingers, then slips another one inside, stretching you, teasing you. “So tight,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. “So fucking wet.”

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense. Tears stream down your face, a mix of pleasure and raw emotion. You moan, gripping the sheets, your body arching beneath him. He swirls his tongue around your clit, and you shatter, your pussy walls clenching around his fingers, soaking him in your juices.

He pulls his fingers out, licking them clean. 'Mmm,so sweet babygirl.' he says, his eyes gleaming. 'You're such a good girl for your Daddy.'

He stands up, the sound of his belt buckle echoing in the room.

He unzipped his pants, and with a swift movement, pulled off his shirt. His chest and shoulders were broad and powerful, the muscles defined in the dim light. He exuded a raw strength that made you catch your breath.

He pulls down his pants and boxers, his erection springing free. He looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, as he strokes his huge cock with his hand.

The thick shaft is already rock-hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. 'You want this, little slut, huh?' he growls. 'Let me hear it! Beg for it, you little whore!'

He leans closer, spreading your legs wider, and positions himself between them. He teases your entrance, the head of his cock brushing against your slick lips. 'Tell me what you want,' he commands.

'I want you, Daddy,' you whisper, your voice thick with desire. 'Only you, please.'

'Has anyone fucked you before?' he asks, his voice laced with suspicion.

'No, Daddy,' you breathe. 'I've been a good girl.'

A predatory smile spreads across his face. 'You're gonna be mine, baby girl,' he murmurs. He leans down and kisses you roughly, the force of the kiss sending a jolt of electricity through your body. He trails kisses down your neck, sucking on your breasts, teasing your nipples until they’re hard and aching.

He positions himself at your entrance, guiding his cock with his right hand. He slowly pushes the tip inside, the burning pleasure bringing tears to your eyes. 'I know, baby girl,' he whispers, his voice surprisingly gentle. 'Be good for Daddy.' He pulls back slightly. 'Let me in, sweetie. Daddy wants you so bad. Daddy's gonna make you feel so good.'

You nod, your body trembling. He cups your face in his hand and kisses you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours. Then, with a swift, hard thrust, he pushes himself inside, stretching you, filling you completely. He’s so big, it hurts, a sharp, burning pain that makes you gasp. You shake a little, tears streaming down your face.

'I need to move,' he growls, his voice thick with lust. 'Daddy wants to fuck this tight pussy.' He glances down at the junction of your bodies, his eyes gleaming at the sight of the blood and your juices coating his cock. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs. “So fucking good.”

He begins to move, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and force. “You like that, don’t you, baby girl?” he pants. “You like Daddy fucking you?” He grips your hips, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. “Tell me you like it!” he commands. “Tell me you’re Daddy’s little whore!"

You told him, your voice a broken whisper, 'Yes, Daddy… I love it… I'm yours… Fuck…'

He began to thrust faster, his eyes fixed on your breasts, watching them bounce with each powerful stroke.

He wiped the tears from your face, he leaned down and kissed you, his lips bruising and demanding. 'You take me so good,' he growled. 'Such a good girl. You belong to me.'

He pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. 'Turn around,' he commanded. You obeyed, and he slapped your ass cheeks, the sting sending a jolt of heat through your body.

'Lift your ass for me, sweetheart' he said, his voice thick with lust. 'Daddy's gonna fuck you from behind. You're mine to use however I want.'

He entered you again, this time rougher, deeper. He grabbed your butt cheeks, squeezing them hard, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He gripped your hair, pulling your head back, and whispered in your ear, 'From now on, you're mine, little slut. You'll be punished every time you try to touch yourself, or hump that pillow, baby girl. This is my pussy now. Daddy's gonna take care of it."

“You’re gonna scream my name, aren’t you?” he whispered harshly.

You told him 'Yes, Daddy. I'm yours to command.' Your body trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. He began to fuck you harder, his thrusts powerful and relentless.

He rubbed your clit with his thumb, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He felt your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing him tight.

You came again, your juices soaking him, mixing with the pre-cum that still clung to his shaft. “Mine,” he growled. “All mine.”

He gave a few final, powerful thrusts, then groaned as he came inside you, his hot cum filling you completely. He glanced down at the junction of your bodies, watching as your mingled fluids dripped down your legs. “You’re so fucking mine,” he whispered, his voice thick with possessiveness.

“No one else will ever touch you like this. You’re my personal fucktoy darling."

He lay down on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He hugged you close, still buried deep inside you. “You’re my dirty little secret,” he murmured in your ear. “And Daddy’s gonna keep you safe.

"You’re never gonna forget this, are you?

You whispered a quiet "No, Daddy."

"You're branded, little slut.”

He pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and wanting more.

Then he lay beside you, his arm draped possessively across your waist. “You’re mine, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “I don’t want any other little boy touching you. Do you understand me?"

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m gonna be only yours.”

He leaned down and kissed you, a slow, deep kiss “Good girl,” he murmured against your lips. “You know, you’re… you’re the only one who can make me feel this way. You’re so fucking perfect, so sweet and dirty all at once, babygirl.”

He pulled the blanket over you. “I’m gonna prepare a bath for you,” he said, his voice softening slightly.

“Thank you,” you whispered, a mix of emotions swirling within you. You lay in bed, the sensations still lingering, a strange mix of pleasure and guilt. You’d gotten what you wanted. You’d finally had him.

After he finished preparing the bath, he returned and lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.

The doorbell rang, a sudden, jarring sound. He looked surprised. “Pizza’s already here” he muttered. “Maybe that's your mom. Come downstairs after your bath.”

You nodded, and he left.

When you finally made your way downstairs, your legs aching and unsteady, you saw your mom. You tried to act normal, to keep your composure, but your body betrayed you. You could barely walk, the soreness a constant, throbbing reminder of what had just happened.

As you saw your mom, she immediately noticed something was off. She asked, her voice laced with concern, 'Are you alright?'

Joel watched you, taking a slow sip of his beer, his expression unreadable.

'I'm fine, Mom,' you said, trying to sound casual, 'just a little tired.' You quickly changed the subject. 'How's Grandma?'

'She'll be fine,' your mom replied.

'I'm hungry,' you said, grabbing a slice of pizza. 'I'm going to take this to my room. I need to study for my class tomorrow.'

She nodded, but her expression tightened. 'You could have at least made dinner,' she said, her voice sharp. 'It's easy to just order pizza.' She was always like this, quick to criticize.

She started to complain, her voice rising, 'You're so lazy. Always going out, always locked in that room.'

Suddenly, Joel spoke up, his voice low and firm, cutting through her rant. 'Maria, that's enough. Leave her be. She's tired.' He defended you.

You saw the opportunity, going back to your room, anger simmering beneath your skin. You could hear them arguing downstairs, Joel's voice a low rumble, your mother's a sharp, insistent whine. 'She needs to learn,' your mom's voice rose, 'She is not a child anymore.' Joel responds, 'Maybe you should try being a mother instead of a warden.'"

Mom snapped, her voice sharp and laced with resentment. 'Well, you're not her dad! She's my daughter, and she's going to listen to me!'

Joel, surprisingly, managed to calm her down, his voice low and soothing. After a while, he left the living room, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

Curled up in bed, you felt a wave of self-loathing wash over you. Useless. Worthless. It was the middle of the night, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being completely alone.

A soft knock startled you. It was Joel. He entered, holding a glass of water and a small pill. 'You need to take this, plan B.' he said, his voice gentle. 'I'll get you some birth control soon.'

He pulled you into a warm hug, his hand stroking your hair. He kissed you softly on the forehead. 'I'll take care of you,' he murmured. 'You're a good girl. Don't take your mother's words to heart.'

'She's right, though,' you whispered, your voice thick with tears.

'No, baby girl,' he said, his voice firm. 'You're great.' He paused, then added, 'I love you.' He hugged you tightly.

'I love you too,' you replied, your voice barely audible.

He leaned and kissed you knew more time, gently cupping your face with his hands "Good night babygirl, now rest..See you tomorrow."

"Good night Joel. Thank you." you whispered.

He left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He loves you. The words echoed in your mind, a strange mix of exhilaration and disbelief. You couldn't believe what had just happened. One moment, you were humping a pillow, lost in a fantasy, and the next, he was here, in your room, confessing his love.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. You were happy, undeniably so. The physical intimacy, the possessive way he’d claimed you, the whispered promises – it was intoxicating. But beneath the surface, a tremor of fear lingered. Was this real? Was this love, or something else entirely? The power dynamic, the way he’d taken control, the harsh words mixed with tender touches… it was confusing, unsettling. You felt like you were walking a tightrope, balancing on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling. You closed your eyes, the image of his face, his eyes dark and intense, burned into your mind. You were his, he’d made that clear. And a part of you, a dark, hidden part, reveled in the thought.

Thank you for the reading 💜

Tags: @lanaispunk @probablyreadinsmut @joelmillerpascal

Please like and leave a comment.❣️

Write me if you want part two 😉

108 notes · View notes

skyahri · 3 days ago

Text

This is my current prompt list. Some are more developed than others and there's a few things I'm working on that aren't on here because, well, I just don't wanna share them lol. Feel free to use these as you will but please tag me! I appreciate the credit and I genuinely just wanna see what yall do with these.

MHA

Class 1A thinks Aizawa is lonely, so they steal his phone and download a dating app. Little do they know he's been married for almost a decade.

You and Bakugou reveal you're having a baby! You decide to surprise your friends before making it public, but it's turns out they didn't know you were even dating.

You'll be assisting Midnight and Thirteen in overseeing the female students at the UA Dorms. Upon meeting, Aizawa immediately dismisses you due to your less-than-professional style choices. Little does he know that your big smiles, frilly skirts, and cutesy heels are a stark contrast to your firm and assertive mindset.

Aizawa is picking Eri up from school when he runs into you- a classmates parent wanting to invite Eri to your daughter's birthday slumber party. For obvious reasons, Aizawa has reservations, but you offer to host them before hand to ease his worries. The whole thing seems terribly bothersome, but the pleading look in Eris eyes forces him to agree. Turns out, you're not so bad after all.

FTM Bakugou who is accidently outed by Inko Midoriya courtesy of baby pictures. Deku saves him in that moment, but he knows it's time to actually tell his friends. He starts with Kirishima.

(NSFW) You have a hybrid quirk and go through an estrus every six weeks after hitting sexual maturity. Still busy with your life as a third year UA student and unable to outsource your issue beyond the school walls, you look to someone just as pent up as you are. Luckily, Katsuki is more than willing to take the bait after you threaten to ask Deku of all people.

Pro hero Dynamite was spotted in public with a woman- wait, is that a wedding ring?! He'd done his best to keep you secret, not wanting you to experience the negativity associated with being romantically involved with someone famous. When fans find out, he prepares for the worst, but- wait... it seems they... love you? Possibly more than him, too!

(NSFW) After convincing Yagi to take over Aizawa's dorm duty tonight, you both make your way to a frat party being thrown at your college. He's definitely out if his element, but when his pretty little girlfriend begs him to dress up as Ghost Face and come along, he can't say no can he? Especially not when youre dragging him into the crowded kitchen for a drink and sit on the countertop, your short skirt riding up just a bit and- well, hes still a man at the end of the day. Too bad it's ruined by a handful of problem children who snuck out to be here. (All students are of age and in their third year. They just wanted to party lol)

Yamada finds a box of old pictures in Aizawas closet. When he comes across some from their teenage years, Aizawa remembers how happy you used to be before everything changed. When did you stop being... you?

(NSFW) A run of the mill mission goes sideways when the Villains have an unexpected player on their side. In an effort to protect your students from whatever mystery powder that's been thrown your way, you take the full force of what seems to be... sex pollen? You're able to save face for the remainder of the mission, but your composure is slipping quickly. Luckily, one of your coworkers is more than willing to help you deal with the... side effects.

Naruto

It's Kakashi's inauguration and Team seven is stoked! But wait, who's that woman standing next to their sensei at the podium?!

The village elders have been bothering Sasuke about reviving the Uchiha clan, going so far as offering to find a suitable candidate on his behalf. He initially declines, but as time goes on and he has yet to find a decent woman, he begrudgingly accepts.

Kakashi tasks his genin with watching over a civilian woman while he's away on a mission. Its simple enough, right? When he returns to the village and finds out they completely fumbled the mission, he's pissed. I mean how hard is it to keep his pregnant wife safe for three days?!

Kakashi has always seen his students as young, but has never thought of himself as old. Well, not until he's picking his kid up from school, where he runs into his former students, who are also picking their kids up. It doesn't help that Naruto and Sakura encourage their kids to call Kakashi 'Grandpa'.

Sasukes only friend is Naruto. That was fine when they were kids and practically only had each other, but now the blonde was a somebody, and that meant his time would have to be divided. Luckily you're around pester him in all the right ways.

(NSFW) Kakashi learns he has a size kink.

Tenzo is leading team seven back to the village, but he needs to make a stop first. It's a quick errand, one that will surely aid Narutos training, but might be a little difficult. They arrive at a house in the middle of the woods where you're already waiting for them. You look a little familiar, though. Almost like Pervy sage! (Jiraiya/Tsunade secret love child au lol)

Shikamaru is an attractive guy. He's handsome, smart, and cares deeply for his loved ones. Aside from how lazy he can be, there's nothing wrong with him. So why is it when he's seen around with you- the prettiest girl in the village- no one thinks anything of it?

Kakashi is wandering the village when he sees a new face moving into his apartment building, actually, right across the hall from him. When you turn around, he finally sees the baby strapped to your back. Being the gentleman he is (more so bored since his forced retirement), he helps you bring the remaining items upstairs. Then helps build them. And also takes you up on your offer for dinner.

Someone is messing with team seven, distracting them from their training. After spending all day trying to figure out who's behind the pranks, they come face to face with a little girl, hiding behind an oddly complex genjutsu in the trees. When captured and brought to their sensei, he taunts his students for getting bested by his six year old daughter.

ATLA

Zuko is tired of palace life, but as the Fire Lord, he can't exactly walk into town for a normal outting. He waits for the Autumn Mask Festival to sneak out, where he runs into you- a stranger willing to help him have as much fun as possible. Turns out you're the palace gardener, who immediately recognized him and decided to take matters into your own hands.

You're the decendant of an air nomad who was away from the temples to gather supplies during the raid 100 years ago. Your lineage is a well kept secret hidden smack dab in the middle of the fire nation and your parents have been diligent on passing down the knowledge of the air benders. When you hear of the avatars revival, you make your way to them and offer your teachings.

JJK

The kids having to tell their pseudo parents wives that they were KIA. Yuuji/Nanami, Megumi/Gojo.

Suguru Visits you one last time before he disappears, unknowingly leaving you pregnant. Its a secret you swear you'll take to your grave, but things get a little complicated when you start to see the curses hed been telling you about your whole lives. Then, at six years old, your daughter touches one of the creatures you'd been steering her away from, and it turns into an orb. You have no choice but to dig through Sugurus old things to find his phone and contact the one person you know could help.

Nanami lives across the hall from you. He's older, has a great job, and is a total buzzkill- but that only makes him all the hotter. Youre young, still in college, and incredibly annoying. He swears you speak another language- one chocked full of obscure references and inflated by flamboyant body language. You pester him in the halls and knock on his door to offer pastries at ungodly hours, so why did he hand over his phone so easily when you adk for his number? [Bonus!] Its been two months since your neighborly antics have turned into a full-blown friendship! You've spammed his phone with cacophony of memes and lore that he doesn't understand. You call him between classes and let yourself into his apartment to leave treats on his counter. He wants to be bothered, really, but can't find it in himself to be. You've just handed him an invitation to your masters ceremony- wait, what? His ditzy neighbor is getting her masters in aerospace engineering?!

Nosey teenage Yuuji is peering over his older brother, Sukuna's, shoulder and sees him texting a girl. He tells anyone and everyone who will listen, making them curious as to who this mystery woman could possibly be. Backed into a corner, he finally introduces you to, well, everyone, and they're shocked to find out youre a total ray of sunshine! Kind, bubbly, and a kindergarten teacher to top it off.

Sukuna, the King of Curses, is not a patient or forgiving man, but for some unknown reason, he allowed you to do as you pleased with him. You spoke freely and touched without permission, a gift youve never come close to abusing. One day he comes home from God knows what, in an obviously sour mood, and while you proceed with what you think is a good attempt to quell his anger, you're met with a slice to your cheek. It's minor, likely to not even scar, but the act is enough to cause a rift in your relationship and he has to find a way to mend it.

(NSFW) You're the best physics tutor at Yuuji's university and he's in desperate need of help. With more students than private rooms in the library, you settle on sessions at his unlces house. It's Saturday morning, you're gearing up to write an essay, only to discover you've left your laptop at his place- but that's no problem, because his uncle is home and can eat you in. Too bad he left out the part about how hot Sukuna is.

Lmao color-blind Heien Era Sukuna.

It's the middle of the night and you've been ditched by your friends at a club down town. With the last round of drinks kicking in and your phone battery running low, you call the only person guaranteed to be available on a Saturday night. Too bad that person is Yuuji's asshole older brother who's always been a little extra mean to you.

Nanami notices the shift almost immediately. In the five years you've been celebrating events at the nice restaurant down town, you've always ordered the salmon. Last time, however, you ordered steak despite how often you complain of red meat upsetting your stomach. Your occasional pining for sweet treats has become a nightly routine. A few bites of ice cream out of the freezer or something you grabbed from the konbini on the way home. Youve never used the restroom in the middle of the night before, but it's been a pattern the past two weeks. The final straw was your increased drowsiness. Youve always been an early riser, often beating the sun, but your internal clock has shifted forward. The addition of naps to your days does not go unnoticed by the blonde. You don't think much about any of these things until your husband is placing a box of pregnancy tests in your hand and asking you to trust him.

Suguru isn't sure why he agreed to a blind date set up by Satoru of all people. He's busy thinking of ways to politely escape whatever the blonde could have possibly sent his way, when he notices you taking the seat in front of his. He'd been expecting a loud, ditzy, party girl- not too unlike the ones his friend brings home on the regular- not this. No, youre obviously of higher class, someone closer to Satoru's status, if the quality of your clothing is anything to go by. You offer your name as well as your relation to Gojo, and its no surprise that your father's are long time business partners. By the end of dinner hes asking for your number, damn near vibrating in place as you type it into his contacts and send a little heart emoji to yourself so you have his too.

Your friends are complaining about men. You're happily listening, not having much to add since you're in a happy relationship, but one thing catches you're attention. "Isn't six inches kind of small?" Well, no, it's not. Apparently your boyfriend is very gifted, something you were unaware of since he's the only man you've ever been with. (Heavy Toji coded)

You don't know how you ended up here, sitting on the edge of Shoko's bed, bodies awkwardly contorted so your knees are touching hers. Her hand is in your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss. She tastes like smoke, something so undeniably her.

In an attempt to prank Nanami, Gojo breaks into his apartment to leave a little something on his counter. As soon as the front door opens, though, he's met with a frying pan stopped just short of his face. He looks from the object to you- a civilian woman dressed in only a button down- but before he can say anything you're already retreating further into the apartment. It's easy to piece together that this intruder is like your husband, so you do as instructed and run into your room, hide under the bed, and call him. He's rushes home, nearly causing an accident in the process, and is pissed to find out the threat is only his annoying coworker. He coaxes you out of the room, open arms ready and waiting for the adrenaline drop youre sure to experience. When all is settled, Gojo's only defense is that he didn't know Nanami was married.

Toji has never felt old until he met you. You bartend at the club he frequents and after shooting his shot for what had to be the hundredth time, you finally agreed to a date. Then another. And another. And suddenly he was completely immersed in the world of his twenty four year old girlfriend. It was fun at first the drinking and dancing and partying- but he's not as young as he used to be and the liquor is catching up to him. At his wits end, he finally confesses that he can't keep up. Luckily for him, youre more than happy to stay in wit your old man boyfriend.

Baby daddy Sukuna who only recently got his shit together. You'd had enough of the in and out- the inconsistency, the empty promises, the lack of support- it was all affecting your daughter. He either needed to sober up and stay out of jail or you'd move forward with terminating his rights to your daughter.

Sukuna is in charge of the company while his father is in the states for the next month. His first order of business? Firing you- his father's bratty secretary. When Wasuke finally returns and sees his prized assistant gone, he panics, thinking his son drove you away. When he learns the truth, Sukuna is sent to beg for your forgiveness.

Streamer Sukuna, who plays first person shooters and horror games, collabs with you, someone known for their soothing minecraft asmr and animal crossing videos.

Gojo thinks you've been dating for the past year while you've been pining in secret, having no idea that this man was in wayyy deeper than you.

Gojo couldn't possibly be married, right? Then who was he on the phone with that could've had such an intimate contact name? That he was calling dear and love? Yuuji and Nobara are on the case! Too bad they could've just asked Megumi, who would've told them that his pseudo father is not just married, but a father as well.

Fairy Tail

You've known Laxus a long time, always by his side to support him, even if you didn't agree with his actions, and his banishment doesn't change that. One day during your travels, he tells you to stand by, that he can feel the guild pulling him and he'll be back soon. When a month passes and there's no sign of him, you venture back to the guild only to be met with terrible news. What's worse, is youre three months pregnant.

94 notes · View notes

zorilleerrant · 3 days ago

Text

I have a theory about this. I don't know if this was planned (it could've been; TD:R was made by people who are very into the little details, and it was cut short so we might not have gotten all of it), but I think it's a continuation of the car obsession. And Tim can't have a car obsession anymore, because it's a kind of abnormal and specific obsession right now that would need to inform a lot more of his character. It was pretty normal when he was designed, but the public interest shifted, and now he can't like cars that much.

But. We still have a lot of earlier stories where he's working on cars with the rest of the Batfam, and those are good memories. And a normal thing to do - for the really strange kind of car obsessives that still get to be obsessed with cars - is to take either a completely non-working car with a good body, or a car that kind of works but is falling apart, and fix it piecemeal until it looks and sounds perfect and does everything a car should, and some extra things that everyone asks 'why did you do that tho'.

What Tim does get to maintain over time is that he needs a project. At all times he needs something complicated and detailed to try to massage into workable shape. Something with a lot of moving parts. And one of those kinds of things is a houseboat hideout! Tim has really complicated long-term plans and they've pretty much always been for other people, and that's some of why so many of them don't really work out, or work out but don't give him the kind of relief or whatever he's looking for.

So, on the metaphorical level, he's picking up the pieces of his life and trying to figure out what he wants to build out of them. To build a project for himself for a change. But on the practical level he needs something to take up his time and give him small things to fixate on when he needs a distraction or a break from all the important world-ending stuff he might be fucking around with at any given moment. There might also be something there about being able to give Bern tasks to focus on while he's out doing dangerous things. But there's a lot of times when Tim needs to not worry, or not think about something, or just have a problem he knows how to solve. And boy does a shitty boat provide a lot of that.

So good news! Tim hates the boat too! That's why he's going to take it apart and build it back up bolt by bolt.

I have a controversial take I can't stand the fucking houseboat.

Like is it comedic sure but motherfucker, you are a millionaire at least and you choose to live in a stupid ass fucking boat some rich people don't deserve money and his name is Tim Drake.

Like Bruce lives in a fucking manor and here's Tim i'm gonna be gay in my boat like buy a yacht and go the fuck home.

I just can't. I just fucking can't.

I genuinely can't actually explain why I hate the boat so much but I really fucking hate that boat like I hate that boat almost as much as I hate like the Joker.

Like if I had a gun and there were two bullets, I would find a way to sink that fucking boat and the joker would get to live. I would pull a Batman sorry Jason you're murderer gets to live because I need to kill your brother's fucking boat.

Like it's the same logic of Dick having that shitty blud Haven apartment.

Like you fuckers are Nepo babies stop trying to pretend you're poor.

I did not mean to go on a rant, but this bothers me like I don't know why but why do I feel like Tim Drake would be that kid to go that's my dad's money as if you don't benefit from it. You piece of shit.

Oh my God, I'm gonna become a Tim Drake anti if I ever have to see that fucking boat again I swear to God.

* I figured out why I went on this rant I had to pay bills today. Like if I had $1 million I wouldn't be on a fucking boat.

#look i said something

253 notes · View notes

bunny-jpeg · 2 days ago

Text

on my telly, kyle "gaz" g. - cool summer evening. kyle was enjoying a beer with his feet up on the coffee table. a beer in one hand and visibly relaxed after being away for almost six months.

he missed this, much better than the muggy hell he was in across the globe. he could watch the football game, enjoy a cold beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and of course, his favourite activity. watching his girl give him the messiest oral sex she could muster.

he exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth and tapped the ash off his cigarette into the ashtray that was rested on your back. he said in that honey-sweet voice of him, "careful there, lovie. i'd hate to make you clean up all the ash."

you loved his cock in your mouth. it felt perfect just like that. kyle's cock wasn't porn star levels of huge, but it was big enough for you. you once told him that you liked his cock because it fit just right and wouldn't end in an emergency room visit. you had been trying to deep throat him and the way that your throat would constrict when you tried to go too deep.

you felt tears prick your eyes and you'd whimper. you wanted to pull your head away to gasp for breath, but it was a balancing act. you couldn't tumble over the ashtray and ruin your lover's evening. he had been in peru for a mission and without your pretty plush lips around his cock. he didn't need to stop to clean up a mess you made. and while he loved when you played maid for him, he'd rather you service him in another way.

he took another drag of his cigarette and the heavy smell of cigarette smoke filled your head, it only added a level of pleasure to your needy core. you were soaked, evident by the wet spot in the crotch of your pretty pink panties. panties you gave to him as a gift for his deployment and it took two wash cycles to wash all the cum out of it. now the soft pink fabric was stretched across your fat ass as you sloped your back to near drool all over kyle's cock while you choked on his cock. fuck, you looked divine.

"pretty girl." he mused after he had another exhale, "letting me come home to a proper meal, a proper wife, and a nice night in. eh, think it's about time i bring home a ring. make you my bride. you'd like that." he put the smoke in his mouth and patted your behind then gave it a swift smack. he chuckled when you moaned. he spoke around the cigarette in his mouth, "can't be letting some idiot waste your talents. got all the makings of a good wife." he slapped your ass again as you continued to bob your head quickly. he took the smoke out of his mouth and held your ass. he made sure not to burn his girl with the lit end, "no other man knows how to handle you the way i can." his voice was smooth and you shuddered, "careful with the teeth, i know you're eager."

you were mindful, for a moment you got too lost in the feeling. your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on making him feel good and not letting the ashtray fall off of your back. it was like a performance and kyle was going to give you rave reviews once the match was done. you teased the tip with your tongue. nudged it against the slit and kyle tensed up for a moment before he had a sip of his beer.

"i see you've been learning." he mused, "i feel like i should be worried you've been stepping out of the relationship. but you sent me more than enough videos to show that you've been a good girl for me." he said lowly before he stamped out the cigarette in the ashtray. that was enough smoking for tonight.

while you still orally pleasured him, he was generous enough to get the ashtray off your back and onto the table. once he was relaxed back into the couch, he slapped your ass with his wide palm and your back arched as the wetness between your legs grew. the feeling was immense, the pleasure was overwhelming. you felt like such a whore, but it was hard not to when kyle made the word feel like a badge of honour.

"such a pretty thing on my cock. bet you thought about him every night. thinking about bouncing on it until the walls shook from those screams of yours. you'd get us in trouble with the landlord again, right?" he slapped your ass again before he slapped your ass and palmed the skin under his palm. he loved the feeling and he knew that you did too. you were soaked right now and kyle knew he had a long night ahead of him.

he relaxed and played with your hair while you continued to move your head up and down his cock. he loudly exhaled and tugged your hair a little. he said without looking away from the game on the screen, "careful there, watch your teeth." then felt you adjust yourself so you took him so much better. he felt the tension out of his shoulders. nothing quite like a smoke, a beer and some head.

tomorrow you'd go out on your dates and be the sweetest couple in the entire country. but tonight, it was about feverish sex. any way you could get your body on kyle's. he cursed under his breath while you picked up momentum and were able to sink down a little further. he held onto your hair tightly and tensed up. he swore a little louder as he clutched his beer can a little tighter.

you were quick with your movements and moaned with his cock shoved into your throat. kyle pressed you a little further down and he raised his hips to he could finish down your throat.

"fucking hell, love. all mine, missed you." he said as he watched you pull your head away from his cock and looked at him with a blissed out gaze. he reached for your and stroked your soft cheek lovingly.he smiled at you, "look at you. someone's needy."

you swallowed and nodded, "yeah. i need you." and then flung yourself at him with such force he almost dropped his beer. the kiss you shared was sloppy. you tasted like cum and he tasted like cigarettes.

but by morning you'd both be reeking of reunion sex. <3

a/n: feedback is lovely <3

#bunny writes #bunny drabbles #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz smut #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz garrick smut #call of duty #cod smut #call of duty smut #call of duty drabble #cod drabble #cod mw2 #cod x you #cod x reader #call of duty gaz

114 notes · View notes

doshi-sukiru · 2 days ago

Note

What are Optimus's feelings on Megatron's mask? Does he loathe it because he wants to see Megatron's face as they fight? Does it make it easier to hurt Megatron because he can't see the face of the bot he loved and lost? Does he feel amused by it because it reminds him of how much of a Megatronus fanboy D-16 was? Does he find a way to twist it as yet another way the high-guard is 'hurting' D-16 or trying to turn him against him?

It was a gradual descent from joy to annoyance and then anger of its existence.

At first, he found it cute that he and Megatron both had masks. It's like finding your friend matching you by wearing the same glasses- simple, but it did excite him a bit. He does enjoy how it's shaped to look similar to Megatronus's mask, and teased him a lot the first few times about it.

It doesn't take him long to find it bothersome. He no longer got to see the lovely face he always wanted to see during their 'encounters', and trying to look at the bust in his private room wasn't working as well as he hoped.

And when he spies on them one day, he sees Megatron's mask isn't on, and he's with Soundwave at the moment, who also seemed to have his mask off. The moment he shows himself to try and separate the two, he watches as both of them have their masks go up. While he doesn't care too much about Soundwave, seeing Megatron's mask go up like instinct pissed him off.

They were lovers in the past, like I mentioned, so while Optimus did assume their separation would make Megatron harder to talk with, he didn't expect Megatron to actively use a mask to keep himself separated from Optimus (metaphorically speaking). For Megatron, he didn't realize he was doing it when Optimus was nearby, just let it cover his face when he felt danger.

And yes, he did twist it into thinking that the reason Megatron covered his face was because of the high guard. He immediately assumed it was to make Megatron become someone he wasn't, someone that was apart from D-16 (Think like how Silco tried to make Jinx 'kill' Powder in arcane, with that water body). He hates that, because he knows 'Megatron' could never be the designation D-16 would pick for himself, at least not seriously. Seeing how it was like instinct for Megatron to pull the mask, Optimus believed Megatron was forced to learn it, and thought Megatron must have been losing sleep because of it too.

In reality? Megatronus had been teaching him to summon the mask when he felt any presence of danger, and in Megatron's defense Optimus was usually with other Autobots, some that Megatron knew were trying to kill him than capture him despite the Prime's orders. So his frame just reacted to OP like it was a general Autobot after a while.

The only time Optimus finally saw Megatron's face, they got separated from both of their factions on the surface. Their time alone however lasted a few orns before a quintesson attack left Megatron badly injured. When the Autobots found them first, Optimus had him get taken with them for medical treatment, leading to Megatron's second capture.

Hope that helps explain it!

#ask #maccadam #shattered glass #opmeg #megop #sg optimus prime #sg megatron #mask #slow descent to anger

80 notes · View notes

soiwj · 21 hours ago

Note

okay what about trying to do makeup for caleb and so hes seated on the corner of his bed with eyes shut and you are doing his makeup,

then when you shift to other parts he opens his eyes and he looks st you with yk

THOSE EYES... intense and idk needy bcs its an intimate moment

Sunset Strokes

Pairing: Caleb x MC/reader Cw: Fluff that will rot your tooth. also a smidge of possessive!caleb A/n: This game has an evil heart wrenching hold in me I am in PAIN (good pain unfortunately)

Not proof read sorry guys ;-;

"Can't believe I actually got you to agree to this." You giggle softly as you stradle him. Holding a small eyeshadow brush you dab the sunset colored orange powder against his eyelids. A light chuckle leaves his lips as he smiles.

"Do you really think I can say no to you pipsqueak?" He places his warm hand against your waist softly as he sighs dramatically. "I can't let you experiment artistically on some other guy can I?" Laughing his dramatics off, you continue your ministrations on his eyes.

For a moment you stop dabbing as you look at him. Really look at him. A soft smile graces his face as his expression stays peaceful. Like an angel in soft sunlight he slowly opens his eyes. "Pips'?" You quickly look away as you try to come up with an excuse as you feel his eyes burning into yours.

"I was just- picking another color." Concern grows in your abdomen as he doesn't respond. Quickly looking back up, fearful of any kind of negative emotion on his face- instead- he's smiling. A soft kind smile, his eyes following.

Caleb had a way of making you feel like the only person in the world. As if everything else just fades away and you and him are floating in an endless space of affection. His eyes on you make you feel like you're in a trance. Observing his eyes you notice the small dashes of orange in his purple eyes. Chuckling, you realise it matches the makeup you just put on him.

"I could give Rafayel a run for his money..." Muttering quietly to yourself. You put the brush down and grab some lipstick instead, focussing on his soft lips. You work with full focus, gliding the soft wax along his lips expertly. In the corner of your eye you see him looking right at you. As if he can't be bothered with what you're doing to his face. Because in truth, we all know all he can think about is you.

Quite short but theres more to come!!

#lads caleb #lads #lnds caleb #lnds #love and deepspace #x reader #caleb x mc #caleb lads #caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb xia

79 notes · View notes

joudeq · 3 days ago

Text

kento x reader

~ cornball

------------------------------------------------------

modern au : nerd!nanami x reader

tags : fluff / AWFUL jokes / hes a silly nerd / TW: exams / modern au / jjk / kento x reader (not gender specific) / oneshot

a/n : just a short nanami drabble bc i love him hes such a stupid loser

context : hes your nerdy roommate and you're both studying for upcoming finals, you find yourself overwhelmed with the workload and he tries cheering you up

ALSO 8 followers i love u guys

------------------------------------------------------

The low hum of your desk lamp filled the otherwise quiet room. The exam was just a couple of days away, and the tension was eating away at you. You had been studying for hours, your brain already tired of trying to memorize everything. Each sentence on the page started to blur together, and you found yourself thinking more about how much you wanted a break than the material in front of you.

Nanami, on the other hand, was the picture of composure. He sat across the room, as usual, his posture straight and his focus unwavering. You could hear the sound of his pen scratching across the paper, making meticulous notes in the margins of his textbook.

You tried to focus on your own work, but it was useless. Your mind kept wandering. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You let out an exasperated sigh, slumping down in your chair.

"I'm going to fail," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes in frustration. "I can't do this. There's s no way."

He glanced up from his work, his usual calm and composed expression softened by a hint of concern. "You're fine," he said gently. "You've been studying for weeks. You'll be ready."

You groaned again, feeling the weight of your anxiety pressing down on you. "It just doesn't feel like enough. I can't focus. My brain is mush after digesting that much chemistry at once!"

He set his textbook aside and stood up slowly, walking toward you. He was always so composed, like the world was always under control. But tonight, something about the way he looked at you made him seem a little unsure, even bashful.

"I think you need a break," Nanami said, his voice unusually soft. "Maybe... maybe I could tell you a joke? That might help, right?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was serious. Nanami? Kento Nanami? Telling a joke? You could never imagine him doing such a thing. His usual serious, no-nonsense demeanor didn't exactly scream 'comedian.'

"You?" you asked, almost teasing. "You want to tell me a joke?"

He shifted awkwardly, his face turning a faint pink, and you could tell that this was definitely not his comfort zone. "Well, I thought It might make you feel better?"

You sat up straighter in your chair, genuinely curious now. You didn't expect your roommate to go for something like this. "Alright, I'm all ears," you said with a genuine smile, even though it was a little teasing.

Nanami cleared his throat, straightening up and pushing up his glasses as though he were about to deliver some profound piece of wisdom. There was a nervous energy about him, and you could see the awkwardness in the way he held his hands at his sides. "Okay, here goes. It's a simple one, don't get your hopes up." he muttered.

You waited expectantly, trying to hold back a smile.

"Why don't skeletons fight each other?" he asked, the serious tone in his voice making it sound like this was a big deal.

You blinked at him, confused but intrigued. "Uh,why?"

And without missing a beat, Nanami hesitated for just a moment, then nervously blurted out:

"Because they don't have the guts."

....

A long silence followed. Nanami's gaze flickered to the floor, looking extremely uncomfortable as he waited for a response. You froze for a moment, processing the full weight of the corny joke. You stared at him, and he was just standing there, his cheeks lightly flushed, clearly waiting for you to either laugh or tell him how terrible it was.

You couldn't t help it. The awkwardness of it all was too much. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as you practically collapsed onto the desk.

"Oh my god, Nanami," you gasped between giggles. "That was...That was so bad!"

Nanami's face turned a deep red, and he immediately looked away, a little embarrassed. "I thought it might help - you know, make you smile," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. "It was a good joke, right? I mean - it's classic humor," he looked at you then, his eyes sparkling as if he was seeking your approval, a small smile curling the corners of his lips as he watched you laugh.

You wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye, still chuckling. "It was so bad that it was hilarious. I'm literally dying here."

Nanami shuffled awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. He had always been so calm, so serious, but seeing him this flustered made him even more endearing. He cleared his throat again, still trying to regain his usual cool. "It was just a joke," he muttered, his hands still slightly trembling. "I thought I'd lighten the mood."

You straightened up, finally able to control your laughter, and gave him a softer smile. "You definitely lightened the mood. In a very unique way."

He rubbed the back of his neck, still flushed but also looking a bit relieved that you weren't somehow upset. "I shall try harder next time. Maybe I'll work on my material."

You smiled at him, feeling your nerves ease a little. "Nah, you're good. You've definitely earned a break for the night. But next time, maybe leave the dad jokes for another day, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, a little embarrassed but also clearly pleased to have made you laugh, even if in the most awkward way possible. "I'll take your criticism as a compliment."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you, It was the way he had stepped out of his comfort zone just to make you feel better, to bring some levity into your stressful night.

Suddenly, the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease, and you realized that for the first time tonight, you were genuinely at ease. Nanami had managed to make you forget about the looming exam, if only for a moment. And in that moment, everything else felt a little less important.

You paused for a moment, looking at him with a soft smile. The warmth in his expression was enough to make your heart flutter, and without thinking, you stepped forward and gently kissed his cheek, your lips lingering for just a second.

Nanami froze for a moment, his face going beet red. "W-What was that for?" he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

You smiled at him, feeling a rush of affection as you took a step back. "For making me laugh," you said softly, your eyes lingering on his flustered face. "You're a good guy, Nanami."

He blinked, still processing the kiss, and you could see the tips of his ears turning red. "Oh, um.. thank you," he mumbled, his usual stoic nature failing him for a moment.

The awkward tension in the air was gone, replaced with the comfortable silence between you two. You both knew that the exam was still there, looming over your heads, but for a little while, it didn't matter.

Well, not until you opened the exam paper in front of you the next day.

Sheesh, you seriously should've studied for this.

#jujutsu kaisen #fluff #idk what else to tag #jjk fluff #nanami kento #nanami #nanami x reader #ha ha funny #modern au #jujutsu nanami #ok byeee

80 notes · View notes