#but the idea came to me and i had to put it out into the world
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mintyys-blog · 2 days ago
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Hi Minty!!! I’ve been waiting for your requests to be open! I’m so happy they are!
my request is- what would the main Mark Grayson and his variants react to seeing their reader in a bunny costume? The tuxedo/ playboy ones. Maybe it’s for Halloween, a charity event or just for fun? This is very basic, I apologise 😔
HEADCANON | variants with s/o who dressed up like a playboy bunny
INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: implied sex
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MAIN MARK
Mark had been trying to guess your Halloween costume all week. You’d dodged every question with a sly grin and vague answers, telling him it was “just something cute, nothing crazy.” So when you finally walked out of the bedroom—ears perched, fishnets hugging your legs, and the glossy black bodysuit clinging in exactly the right places—he choked on his drink.
“Whoa—wait. Wait, wait.” He stood up, eyes wide and immediately locked onto you. “That’s your costume?”
You twirled playfully, pretending to fluff your little cotton tail. “You like?”
He just stared for a second too long. And then: “That’s… wow. That’s illegal. That’s gotta be illegal.”
You laughed, cheeks heating up. “It’s just a costume, Mark.”
“Not on you it’s not. Jesus, you look like you stepped off one of those old magazines. Not that I’ve seen them or anything.” His ears went pink.
You sauntered closer, placing a hand on his chest and tilting your head up, grinning. “Are you saying I should’ve been a Playboy bunny full-time?”
He swallowed hard. “Babe, if you were—there would’ve been riots.” Then he leaned in, his voice lower, teasing. “You sure this is for Halloween? Because you do know we’re not gonna make it to the party, right?” You laughed again, tugging him by the collar. “I figured that might happen.”
MOHAWK MARK
Mark wasn’t even looking for anything in particular. He was digging through a stack of old books and papers you’d stuffed into a box labeled “college crap” when a glossy, slightly worn magazine slipped out and hit the floor. He was going to toss it back in—until he saw you on the cover.
Playboy Bunny. Full costume. Full smile. Full thighs in fishnets, bodysuit hugging your curves like it was custom-made. He blinked, then looked again. You, back arched slightly, with a fake champagne glass raised in a toast. “Well, well, well…” Mark murmured, a smirk crawling across his face. “What do we have here?” You heard him from the other room. “What?”
“Nothing,” he called. But his voice was too smug. You knew that tone. When he finally came into the room, he held up the magazine like it was a trophy. “Care to explain, sweetheart?” Your stomach dropped. “Oh god—where did you find that?”
“Oh don’t be shy now,” he said, flipping the cover back toward you. “I mean, if this was hiding in a box, what else are you hiding from me?” You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “It was for a themed charity event! I was like, twenty!”
“Uh-huh. And the fact that you’re smiling and clearly enjoying it—was that for charity too?” he teased, leaning on the wall like he had all the time in the world. You peeked through your fingers. He looked way too entertained by this. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope.” He folded the magazine and tapped it against his palm. “Actually… I’ve got an idea.” You narrowed your eyes. “What.”
“Go put it on.” You gawked. “Mark—!”
“Come on,” he grinned. “You have it. Don’t lie. Girls like you don’t toss stuff like that. You keep it in the back of your closet for rainy days and ego boosts.” You tried to act offended but… he wasn’t wrong.
He raised an eyebrow. “Put it on. For me. Please. I promise not to show the magazine to anyone.” You sighed, then rolled your eyes with a small, embarrassed grin. “Fine. But if it doesn’t fit anymore—”
“Oh, trust me,” he cut in, already looking you up and down. “It’ll fit. Even better than before.” And it did. And he didn’t shut up about it for days.
SINISTER MARK
Mark was sorting through digital records—some surveillance junk that his people hadn’t properly encrypted yet—when he saw the thumbnail. At first, he thought it was some AI-generated crap, maybe a deepfake. But the longer he stared, the more familiar the body looked.
And then he saw the face.
You. In a bunny costume. Posing like sin itself in fishnets, glossy black fabric, the little white puff on your tail and ears crooked from how much you were clearly laughing in the outtakes. It was old, clearly—but unmistakably you.
When you walked in later that night, you noticed something was off immediately. He was seated, legs spread, elbows on his knees, the file still open in front of him. But it wasn’t anger in his expression—it was… amusement. “Hey,” you greeted cautiously, setting your bag down. “You okay?”
“…You ever plan on telling me?” he asked. His voice was quiet. Controlled. That was never a good sign.
You froze. “Tell you what?” He turned the screen toward you. Your heart dropped. “Shit.”
“Mmhmm.” He leaned back, watching your face. “Cute ears.”
You started rambling, “Okay, okay—it was a long time ago, a stupid gig, I needed money—”
“I’m not mad.” You stopped. “…What?”
“I said I’m not mad.” His voice was low. Smooth. “You think I don’t know who I’m with? That I haven’t imagined you in far less?” He smirked now, slow and deliberate. “I just didn’t know there were pictures.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You weren’t sure if you should be relieved or embarrassed. “so,” he continued, standing up slowly. “do you still have it?”
Your face flushed hot. “I… maybe.” He stepped closer, backing you up toward the wall. “you gonna put it on for me?”
“You really want to see it?” you asked, barely able to look him in the eye. Mark chuckled, hand ghosting your waist. “I want to ruin it.” That night, he didn’t just make you wear it—he made you pose in it, for him. Except this time, he was the only one who can see you, his little bunny.
OMNI MARK
Mark was never one for Earth’s festivities. Halloween, especially, seemed juvenile to him—an entire planet playing dress-up for candy and cheap scares. But this year, you insisted. Said it’d be fun. Said he needed to “loosen up.” He hadn’t expected this kind of costume.
You stepped out of the bedroom slowly, high heels tapping against the hardwood, tugging at the tight tuxedo-style bodysuit that hugged your curves like it was made for you. Fishnet stockings. Satin bunny ears. The iconic collar and cuffs.
He looked up from the book he’d been half-reading, eyes immediately locking onto you. For a moment, he said nothing. Just looked. You shifted nervously under the silence. “Too much?” you asked.
“No,” he said finally, voice low. “Not enough.” You flushed, lips parting in surprise. Mark stood slowly, his massive form suddenly seeming even larger as he approached, eyes devouring every inch of your exposed skin.
“This is what you wore… for Halloween?” he asked. You nodded. “I thought it’d be fun. For you.”
He paused, just inches from you now, and gently tugged at one of the bunny ears. “You enjoy dressing up like this?” You laughed nervously. “I mean… it’s different.” His hand slid along your waist, firm and warm through the fabric. “It’s distracting.”
“In a good way?” Mark leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “In a very good way.”
He didn’t rip the costume. Not immediately. He liked to take his time when he appreciated something. And this? This, he appreciated. And for the rest of the night, he proved that in very deliberate, very focused ways—showing you just how much he valued your “efforts for the holiday.”
PRISONER MARK
Mark had a rough edge to everything he did—even the way he slammed the door shut after coming back from dropping off your kid at daycare. His boots hit the floor heavy, the air still carrying the trace of his gruff, amused voice from teasing the toddler before handing them off.
He wasn’t expecting you like this though.
Leaning against the bedroom doorway in your old playboy bunny costume, one hip cocked, a soft little smirk on your lips like you weren’t setting his entire world on fire.
“I think I still got it,” you said, eyes flicking over him with that old teasing glint. ��Right?”
He froze—just for a second. Took you in, from the glossy ears to the way the fishnet hugged your thighs, down to the sharp little heels you wore like you weren’t the mother of his child, like you weren’t dangerous just standing there smiling at him.
Then he smiled. That low, crooked grin that spelled trouble.
“Damn right you do,” he muttered, already tugging off his jacket and tossing it somewhere behind him. “Come here, bunny.”
You didn’t move. Not right away. Just stood there watching him approach like you were the one in control of the situation.
You weren’t. Not for long.
He caught you around the waist, pulling you close, hands not shy about grabbing your ass through the tight fabric.
“I should’ve never let you put this damn thing in storage,” he growled, mouth brushing your neck. “You’re lucky I got any self-control left.” You chuckled breathlessly. “Do you?” He laughed—low, hungry, dark. “No. Not even a little.”
VILTRUMITE MARK
Mark wasn’t easily fazed. A seasoned warrior, a husband, and now a father—he’d seen battlefields soaked in blood, stood against uprisings and rebellions, watched empires fall. Very little surprised him.
But walking into your shared quarters and seeing you in that? A black satin corset, fluffy white tail, thigh-high fishnets, and a headband with soft bunny ears?
He stopped. Blinked once. “…What are you wearing?”
You tilted your head, leaning one hand on your hip. “It’s a playboy bunny costume. Y’know…for Halloween?” You gave him a little twirl, smirking when his eyes followed every curve. “They’re kind of iconic.”
Mark narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping forward. “Is this some kind of Earth thing?” He was calm, composed—curious—but there was something lurking under the surface. Interest, maybe. Or hunger.
You giggled, brushing your fingers under his chin. “It’s supposed to be sexy. Do you not like it?”
“I didn’t say that.” His hands found your waist, rough thumbs brushing the lace edging. “I just don’t understand the point of pretending to be prey when you look like this.” You blinked. “Wait…is that a thing on Viltrum? Do people dress like—”
He silenced you with a slow kiss. Deep. Firm. And when he pulled back, his hands had slid lower. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not complaining. In fact…” His voice dropped a little. “…you should wear this more often.” You raised a brow. “Even when it’s not Halloween?”
He nodded, calm as ever. “Especially when it’s not Halloween.” He didn’t get the reference. But he understood enough to know you were his, and you looked good in anything—especially something designed to tease
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beanarie · 2 days ago
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part 3 of buck takes a mental health break. things get kind of epistolary (ish) from here on out.
~
Los Olivos is... nice. Super nice. Buck has driven through a couple of times, but he's never stopped here. He squints at his phone, triple-checking the address, before he rings the bell.
The door opens, and it's like the sun came out. "Buckaroo!" Carla smiles big and wide. "You get in here right now." Her arms wrap around him as unabashedly as they always did. He gleans as much warmth and comfort as he can before she lets go to give him a once over. "Look at Mr. Universe! My goodness, so much more of you to love now. Come in, come in. I hope you're hungry. I've been cooking since late morning, but if you'd shown me a recent photo, I would've started yesterday."
He manages to put away most of the ribs she put in front of him, with her husband Elden polishing off the rest. After ignoring her protests and helping load the dishwasher, he takes in the photos taking up most of the wall space and several surfaces.
She chuckles at the one he stopped in front of. "That's from the wedding of, uh, you-know-who."
"It's a beautiful photo." Elden is wearing a suit a similar shade of blue to the one Buck wore to his and Abby's disastrous first date. If he closes his eyes, he can still hear Bobby's voice in his ear, giving last minute advice as he helped Buck with his tie.
That part of it was a good memory.
"You okay?" Carla asks.
Buck shakes himself, seeing a way out that's sure to be worth it if only to see her reaction. "Uh, hey. Do you remember how Abby had that ex that kind of smashed her heart into little pieces?"
"Oh, yeah. She was hung up to an embarrassing degree. Her mom used to talk about the guy, too. She loved him."
"I forgot about that," Buck says under his breath, suddenly thinking about Tommy hanging out with Abby's elderly mom, being mildly caustic at each other while playing scrabble or doing a puzzle.
"Why would you bring up whatshisn-?"
"Uh, Tommy."
She tilts her head, intrigued. "Good memory."
Later Buck is proud of himself for making sure she's sitting before he gives her the story. As it is she laughs so hard she almost falls off the couch.
"Your life, I swear," she says, wheezing. "I don't know why I'm even surprised."
Buck finds himself grinning along, wider than he has in a long time.
"You know, you lit up a little when you talked about him. You still like this guy?"
"Yeah," he says, only a little doubt in his mind. "I think so."
"He really thought you were in love with Eddie?" She has an incredible gobsmacked face. "Now, I adore that man, and the two of you would be pretty as hell." She winks and Buck snickers. "But he has a talent for making things hard, and you, Evan Buckley. You deserve something easy."
~
(Hen): Hey, Eddie told me what he said. Say the word, and Karen and I will get him ostracized from every parent group in the county.
(Buck): Don't do that.
(Buck): It affects Chris.
(Hen): Good point. We could do gyms. You have no idea how important gays are to that scene.
(Buck): I might not be Gay-gay but I have spent a little time in gyms. I know.
(Hen): Right, that's fair.
(Hen): You seemed like you were managing. I should've noticed you were making yourself smaller.
(Buck): Thanks, Hen.
(Hen): You're missed, just so you know. Not just during shifts. You'll always be one of ours, understand?
(Hen): Buck?
(Hen): Maybe you don't understand. That's on me. I'll do better in the future.
(Buck): I miss you, too. The lady who served me at this truck stop diner had glasses like yours.
(Hen): I hope you gave her a good compliment.
(Buck): Of course I did. And a big tip.
~
Oakland is next, Lucy doesn't have a spare room ("My partner's brother is staying with us for a while. He's a funny little shit. You'll probably be best friends.") but she does have a pullout couch, and when Buck lies at an angle, his feet don't dangle off the edge.
He and Lucy get just this side of absolutely trashed. When they've toasted to Cap's memory multiple times and the stories slow to a trickle, she grabs his phone. "I'm gonna find you a not-nice boy on grindr."
Buck sits back in his chair and gives a have at it gesture. He watches her, always so comfortable in her own skin. "When did you first, y'know, know?"
She doesn't hesitate for a second. "Eleven. Heather Edison. Sixth grade English. She read for Juliet in class and I wanted to be Romeo so bad."
"Who did you get instead?"
She makes a face. "Tybalt. Ugh."
"What's it like growing up knowing pretty much the whole time?"
"Well, I got a couple years on you. It was a lot of sussing people out and very carefully figuring out who was safe to share that part of myself with." She picks up her shoulders breezily. "Sometimes I was wrong. It happens."
"That sounds terrible. I'm sorry."
"Price of admission," she says. "Now, do you wanna stick with the Greek god aesthetic, or do you feel like broadening your horizons a little?"
Sheree, the girlfriend, brings him coffee the morning after.
"Do you miss it?" she asks. "The job? If you're anything like Lucy... She broke her wrist once and the whole time she couldn't be out there it was like she was locked in a glass case full of water."
The job is what killed him, Buck thinks idly. But even now, he recognizes that it's also what kept him going as long as he did. Buck sips at his coffee. "It's only been a few days," he says with a little teasing smile. "Right now it barely counts as time away."
~
(Eddie): Chris said it's my fault you left and then he stopped talking to me again
(Eddie): it's not really is it?
(Buck): I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that. It feels like no matter what I do it's wrong, so I'd rather not engage at all for a while.
His phone rings. Buck rejects the call, then pulls over and drinks half a water bottle.
(Buck): I know this was hard on you, but finding out after the fact was not worse than being there. It wasn't. Bobby's face that night will be with me on my deathbed. Maybe you'll always remember how Chris looked when you told him, but you get a lifetime of new memories to replace it with.
Buck plugs all that in from the notes app, then immediately has a thought.
(Buck): If you ever talk to me like that again I'll transfer for good.
Hands shaking, he turns off alerts from Eddie. Then he texts Chris a photo of himself and Carla at her house. The amount of exclamation points he gets in return chips away at the concrete block around his heart.
~
(Buck): Am I exhausting?
(Buck): Sorry. Hi how are you?
(Tommy): Too late, you already set the tone. Exhausting? You did tire me out on a regular basis
"Oh," Buck says to himself.
(Tommy): in the bedroom. But I'd never say you were exhausting, that's not how I think of you at all. I don't see how anyone could.
(Buck): Oh
(Tommy): Howie told me about your sabbatical. Where are you now?
(Buck): A couple hours outside Salt Lake City.
(Tommy): Exciting stuff. Don't let the mormons get you.
(Buck): Truck driver fell asleep and caused a pileup. That was pretty exciting.
(Tommy): Not for an old pro like you. Did you have to bust out your skills?
(Buck): For a bit. No fatalities, that was good. Mostly just concussions and whiplash.
(Tommy): Look at you, working on your vacation.
It's such a simple exchange, but the concrete block feels even weaker now. He remembers Bobby saying He's good for you, at a time that they later found out was him saying his goodbyes. That taints it, somewhat, but Buck can't get over that Bobby thought he'd be leaving Buck in a good place, with Tommy.
(Buck): Thank you, Tommy
(Tommy): For responding to your texts? It was a real hardship. I'll never get those 90 seconds back.
(Buck): For making me smile. You always do that.
(Tommy): You're pretty good at that yourself. Drive safe, Evan.
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foxybrownsugababe · 3 days ago
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𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Ai Michael B. Jordon x Black!OC
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - in which a woman receives a mysterious crate that changes everything she thought she knew about solitude, control, and connection.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Mild language, slow burn, emotional vulnerability, light sci-fi themes, let me know if I missed anything! Sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes!! Go easy one me <3
𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I had the idea, and I thought “Why the hell not?” And here we are….
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 ����𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5,637+
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There was no room for weakness in Nadine Nelson’s life.
Not in her closet, where the hems of her Italian suits and Asian silks hung like armor. Not in her penthouse apartment in the heart of Manhattan, with its clean marble surfaces and city skyline views. And definitely not in the courtroom, where a well-timed objection could make or break a multimillion-dollar case.
Nadine was steel, wrapped in silk.
Her alarm rang at 5:45 AM, a single chime before she cut it off and sat up. Not a single grin or anything, just a long cat stretch before rolling over and letting her feet hit the floor. And already, her mind was racing.
Deposition at 10. Client call at 1. Lunch with the DA’s assistant—, no I’m skipping that. Trial prep at 4. Court by Thursday.
She moved like a machine all while thinking. First her perfectly manicured feet slipped into her slippers before she was up and tossing her arms into her deep blue silk robe. Then she was turning on the bathroom light, standing in front of the mirror before the sound of her electric toothbrush humming filled the space. Once she put into the sink, cold water hit her face, a nice cleaned scrub applied to her skin with some expensive soap before multiple serums and creams soothed her epidermis. Then she was down the hall and into the kitchen, her domain of silence.
She barely blinked as she moved around, effortlessly pulling together an authentic espresso. Double shot, four sugars, two creamers. She sipped out of the small cup that she placed on a saucer as she made her way to the living room, clinking on the large television with a simple tap to the panel near the light switch, as well as opening the curtains to the floor to ceiling windows of the space.
It was the news on low volume, something she played in the background as she sat on the couch and began the first part of her work day, which was checking notifications. Stock tickers scrolling. Loads of emails, and real mail. Even a text from her assistant.
Jane: Morning. Confirmed meeting with Sloane. Added an extra hour for court prep. I had to push your massage again. Sorry.
Nadine didn’t even flinch. Self-care was for people with the luxury of losing. She had no such privilege. As she continued to check and sort through her things, she came across a letter, which was rare nowadays in their advanced society. But she didn’t sit to read it for long once she saw it was some sort of survey with a government seal.
C.R.I.S.
(Cognitive Robotics & Intelligence Systems)
Confidential Prototype Program | Not for Public Disclosure
To Ms. Nadine Nelson,
Congratulations.
You are one of only twenty individuals selected to participate in the private beta phase of AURA—the world’s most advanced artificial intelli-
With a sigh, she tossed the paper into the rest of the junk mails she’d gathered, not even giving it a second thought.
By 6:30AM, she was showered and dressed in navy Balmain with matching slacks, gold cufflinks fastened, and her Louboutin heels clicked against the floors like a metronome. Every detail was precise. Her eyeliner was sharp, her decently pixie bob cut was curled and bouncy, not a strand out of place.
That was the version of herself she showed the world.
The version no one saw was the one who stared at herself in any reflection for a moment too long, trying to spot any imperfections and critiquing the ones she had. The one who pressed the ends of her hand to her temple when things became too much, roughly rubbing against her skin to not panic. The one who felt the beginnings of a headache every morning before she even stepped outside.
But there was no time for that.
Today was a big day. So big that she nearly ran over one of her co-workers in the complex’s private parking lot. The woman leaned out of the window, looking at her co-worker, Simon, was entrapped within his phone, coffee in other hand.
“Simon.” She clipped as she exited the car, standing beside the driver’s side with her bag slung over her arm and her eyes narrowed like the barrel of a gun.
Her junior partner, Simon Gellar, flinched, nearly spilling his coffee. He was leaned against the concrete column next to his vehicle, relaxed as if he had no multi-million-dollar contracts waiting for him upstairs.
“Nadine! Goodmorning.” He blurted, straightening up, phone still in hand. His thin wire glasses were crooked from how fast he’d jerked up.
She leveled a gaze at him. “You’re in my line of motion. Next to my parking spot. Were you planning to get hit by my car?” She asked, and though she was being sarcastic, her stoic face didn’t lean into that notion.
Simone scrambled back, laughing awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry. I was—uh—watching something.”
“I gathered.” She pushed past him, heels echoing. Still, curiosity peeked through her otherwise impenetrable wall of ice. She pivoted at the elevator. “What was so important it made you forget spatial awareness?”
Simon followed her with a sheepish grin, lifting his phone to show a paused video. “This new AI prototype. It’s a for a government project. They’re calling it a fully integrated domestic interface. Basically a robot with a personality. They’re doing a limited civilian roll-out.” He explained.
Nadine gave a single, unimpressed glance at the screen. It was paused on a thumbnail image—what looked like a man stepping out of a delivery crate, bare-chested, perfect skin, electric-blue eyes, and a jawline engineered with an questionable precision.
“They sent you a stripper?” She deadpanned.
Simon choked. “We-well, no! Th-this isn’t mine, this is some guy online. A-and he’s, uh, he’s supposed to be adaptable. Learns your habits, routines, even preferences. The AI body is designed to assist with home tasks and companionship. There’s an application online—”
“Companionship?” Nadine asked, one brow arching as they stepped into the elevator.
“Not like that. I mean—maybe like that.” He said, squinting. “But—anyway, apparently they already started selecting people to house the prototypes.” He sipped his coffee, missing the twitch of Nadine’s jaw. “Random civilian testing. They’re sending out offers from low to high-income environments.” He continued.
The elevator dinged. Nadine stepped out before the doors fully opened.
“Mm, sounds like a weird distraction. Who has time for pet projects from a government that doesn’t care about them. Let me know when they build one that can argue in court and bill clients.” She deadpanned before the elevator dinged and she stepped off, stuttering down the hall to her office.
“Will do.” Simon called after her, blushing as he pushed up his glasses and watched as the woman walked away from him.
Nadine’s office sat at the top floor of the firm—an expansive corner with floor-to-ceiling windows, brushed gold fixtures, and enough clean lines to make any minimalist cry from joy. But it wasn’t decoration that mattered, not to her at least. It was power. Clients walked in and knew exactly who was in charge and who was a leader.
She dumped her bag on the chair and was halfway through her espresso number two when the day officially launched.
By 7:15 AM, she was pacing through an emergency strategy meeting regarding an international corporate dispute. She cut through the legalese with surgical precision, offering airtight solutions and eviscerating anyone who hesitated.
By 9:00, she was on a three-way call with the CEO of a pharmaceutical giant and their scandal-scrambling PR team, coaching them through deposition answers while reading through a second case file on her desk.
By 10:00, she was downstairs in one of the firm’s conference rooms, dressed in a power stance that had the opposing counsel checking their notes twice before daring to even speak. She flipped through paper evidence like chapters of a book she’d already read, correcting a junior associate mid-sentence with nothing but a hard stare.
Every moment, every move, every gesture, was precise. Intention was behind it all.
There were no lunch breaks for her, only a small snacks here and there, or of like the food version of a power nap. And even then, she canceled today’s one-on-one with the DA’s assistant five minutes before she was supposed to show. Nadine opted to pace the rooftop patio instead, shoes clicking against stone as she answered emails, reviewed evidence, and toggled between two back-to-back client emergencies.
Her assistant, Jane, appeared like a ghost, silent as ever behind her at 2:35 PM. “You’re behind by twenty minutes.” She said softly, placing a fresh folder on the edge of the table. “And you haven’t eaten.”
“I’ll eat…later.” Nadine replied, flipping open the folder.
Jane hesitated. “Should I reschedule your chiropractor again?”
“Does he do brain surgery now? If not, no.”
The rest of the day continued in a blur of depositions, and back-door negotiations. She squeezed in a quick stop at the firm’s media floor to prepare for an interview with New York Legal Elite next week—her sixth cover in two years.
By the time she returned to her office at 6:47 PM, her makeup was still flawless. But her shoulders had a weight she didn’t let show and her temples ached with the pressure of having to always be better. A pressure she put on herself everyday.
She sat at her desk, the city lights beginning to glow outside her window, and pressed her fingers to her forehead.
Three seconds. Just three seconds of quiet.
But then her phone buzzed.
BiBi: On our way up. The twins are bringing “surprises.” Brace yourself.
Nadine closed her eyes for one heartbeat before standing.
Her apartment was ten minutes away. She could beat them there, she thought. Maybe.
She did not beat them here. Inside, chaos was already blooming. Her penthouse was already lit up when she stepped inside at 7:15PM. She barely had time to set her bag down before she heard the commotion. Marley was dancing on the rug in her socks, while Micah had discovered the fridge’s smart screen and was trying to play Mario Kart through it.
“NADIIIIINE!” The two high-pitched voices screamed in unison. The twins came barreling toward her, curly hair flailing behind them like capes. They launched into her legs with the force of tiny meteors.
“Oof.” Nadine said, catching her balance. “Are you two ever not moving at Mach 10?”
“Nope!” Markey grinned. “We made cookies!”
“With Aunt Bianca’s help.” Micah added with a proud nod.
Bianca appeared behind them, holding a wine bottle and looking way too comfortable. “And I brought provisions. You look like you’ve had one of those weeks.” She said with a small pout on her lips.
Nadine raised a brow, looking over at the older woman. “I have those every week.”
“Exactly my point.”
“I missed the Nelson Towers!” Micah said, throwing herself dramatically onto Nadine’s ivory couch.
Nadine gave her a small smile, sliding off her heels. “Your mom should’ve brought you to court last week. You would’ve seen me destroy a man three times my size.”
“Did you throw a chair at him?” Marley asked.
“No, I used the law.”
“That’s boring.”
“No, my friends, that’s winning.” She grinned. As she moved around her home, making her way into the kitchen. Bianca settled onto a stool at the kitchen island, watching her sister silently. After a beat, she asked, “What time did you go to bed last night” she questioned, the sudden ask causing Nadine to scrunch her face as she looked over at her. Before she could open her mouth to speak, Bianca spoke again. “When was the last time you slept through the night?”
Nadine simply sighed as she turned her back and opened the fridge. “I sleep.”
“That’s not what I asked. I said through the night, not on your files. What time?”
Nadine pulled out a green juice and a yogurt, even though her stomach was already tight with stress. “B, I appreciate the visit. But I don’t need a wellness check. I’m at the top of my game, so I would say I’m doing pretty fine.” Nadine said with a small smile.
This only caused Bianca to give her a look. “You’re at the top of your ulcer.”
Nadine’s sarcastic grin dropped as her jaw flexed, nostril flaring as she glared at her sister.
Bianca continued, gently now. “Nay, you’re doing amazing. But you’ve been in trial mode for two straight years. You don’t date. You barely see sunlight. You don’t even blink unless it’s part of a strategy or some shit.”
Nadine stayed quiet, her spoon tapping the edge of the yogurt cup.
“You don’t have to prove anything anymore.” Bianca added.
And that struck something. Not that Nadine showed it.
“It’s not about proving.” She finally said. “It’s about maintaining. You fight your way up from nothing, and you learn fast—falling isn’t dramatic. It’s silent and quick. It’s one missed call, one lost case. One person thinking you’ve lost your edge.”
Bianca didn’t press further. Instead, she let out a sigh before she called out to her children. “Alright girls, thirty minutes, then we’re heading out.”
The twins groaned but obeyed, bouncing off to the guest room.
Bianca reached for Nadine’s tablet to put on a cartoon on the television, or something to entertain them while she packed snacks.
What she didn’t notice was Micah and Marley sneaking back in and whispering behind the kitchen counter. They had a letter in their hands, a piece of paper they found tossed haphazardly in the living room. And once they read it, the twins were all on board.
“There it is!” Marley whispered.
“I wonder why she didn’t answer. Robots are so cool.” Micah questioned, rereading the page over and over again in excitement. “Maybe she didn’t want one.”
“That’s dumb.” Markey sighed before pulling out her purple glitter pen from her back pocket. “Should I do it?” She questioned, looking over at her twin. There was a moment of silence that passed between them, staring into the other’s eyes before looking back down at the paper.
“Do it.” They said at the same time.
With sticky fingers and wild curiosity, they marked the “Accept Housing Unit” checkbox on the government letter Nadine had flagged but never opened. Marley then folded it back up before move to place it into the mail slot next to the front door, hearing the suction sound as the letter was whisked away back to the owner.
A pop-up confirmed the delivery on the screen next Mail Drop, causing the to high-five before they scurried off. “Okay, now we have to fill this out.” Micah said, pulling the retractable delivery screen closer as the screen loaded a soft blue logo. AURA | Adaptive User Response Assistant. Marley was already typing on the screen like she worked at NASA. “We so can’t tell mom about this.” Micah mumbled nervously.
“No one’s telling Mom.” Marley muttered.
“Okay, well, if Auntie Nadine gets mad, I’m blaming you,” Micah said, peering at the glowing tablet in his sister’s lap. Marley let out a sigh, rolling her eyes at her brother. “She’s not gonna get mad,” Markey tressed with a whisper. “She’s gonna love it. You saw the commercial—this thing can do laundry, make dinner, answer emails. It’s like if Iron Man was a butler.”
“No, it’s like if Pennyworth was a robot.” Micah added, eyeing the girl next to him. “That was a really bad…analogy? Have you ever even read Ironman?” The boy judged.
“Shut up.” Marley deadpanned. “We’re making Auntie Nadine’s house ten times cooler. You think she’s gonna notice another package with all the stuff she orders?”
“She will if it walks and talks.”Micah said, grinning. “Now hurry. I think this is the setup survey and anyone can come checking up on his at any minute.”
The screen adjusted to a smooth, futuristic interface.
AURA Configuration Survey. Optional. But, if you want to make the experience unforgettable…
“Unforgettable.” Marley repeated with a smirk. “Let’s go.”
Private Configuration Survey – AURA Unit #007
Answer honestly to ensure optimal user experience.(Note: Once submitted, preferences are locked in for bonding phase.)
1. What kind of support will the user benefit from most? (Select all that apply):
[ ] Physical assistance (lifting, running, protection). [ ] Task management (emails, errands, organization). [x] Emotional balance (stress de-escalation, energy reading). [x] Conversational engagement (company, reminders, reflection)
“Definitely that one,” Marley said, pointing. “She talks to herself too much.”
“I don’t think she notices.”
2. What is the user’s current lifestyle?
[ ] Highly active, social, fast-pace. [x] Independent, professional, busy. [ ] Creative, exploratory, experimental. [ ] Relaxed, home-oriented
3. How should AURA respond under pressure?
[ ] Assertive and directive. [x] Calm and grounded. [ ] Humorous and light [ ] Silent until prompted
4. What kind of presence should AURA have in the home?
[ ] Subtle but attentive. [x] Always on-hand. [ ] In the background unless called. [ ] Commanding and structured
5. How emotionally intuitive should AURA be
[ ] Not at all—task-focused only. [ ] Moderately—pick up on moods, offer support. [x] Highly—understand shifts in tone, body language, even silences
“Okay, she’s gonna love that.”Marley said with a grin. “Remember when she cried at the end of Paddington 2?”
“Well, so did I….”
6. The user prefers companions who are…
[x] Thoughtful and calm. [ ] Straightforward and direct. [ ] Reserved and quiet. [ ] High energy and expressive
7. Ideal communication style?
[ ] Formal and efficient. [x] Warm and intuitive. [ ] Light and witty. [ ] Minimal
8. Would the user appreciate personal attention to detail? (e.g. remembering birthdays, moods, routines):
[x] Yes. [ ] No. [ ] Only when relevant
9. AURA should interact like…
[ ] A professional assistant. [x] A loyal companion. [ ] A discreet observer. [ ] A supportive coach
Micah tilted his head. “What does ‘loyal companion’ mean?”
Marley shrugged. “I think it just means cool sidekick energy. Like Watson or Chewbacca.”
“Nice.”
10. Anything else we should know about the user? (Optional):
Marley hummed in thought for a moment before she began typing quickly. “She drinks coffee every morning at 6:45, she falls asleep with documentaries on, animal or history, and she forgets to eat when she’s on high emotions. Anger, stress, sadness. She likes it when people notice little things but gets weird when you say nice stuff too directly. She’s kind of secretly lonely but she won’t admit it. Oh, and she likes jazz but not the weird kind with screechy horns.”
Micah blinked. “Whoa. That’s kinda deep. You really know your stuff.”
“I pay attention.” The girl said. Marley then hit SUBMIT with a grin.
The screen flashed. Profile Logged. Preparing AURA for transport. Estimated arrival: 2-3 business days.
The twins then high-fived. “She’s gonna freak out.” Micah whispered.
“In a good way.”Marley added. “Hopefully.”
It was now the next day, and if you couldn’t tell by now, Nadine Nelson was not one to wake up late.
That was the first rule of her universe. The first part to her routine. Her alarm chimed at precisely 5:45 AM, every morning without fail, a single soft note, like the chip of a bird, before she silenced it, sat up, and began the orchestration that was her life. Her body and mind moved like synchronized gears in a Swiss watch—sleek, efficient, and expensive.
So when a loud, jarring knock knock knock banged against her front door at 6:15 AM, it was not just an interruption.
It was an affront.
Her eyes snapped open, head jerking toward the illuminated time panel beside her bedroom light switch. 6:15? Her jaw clenched. She was already behind schedule.
Muttering under her breath, she shoved off her covers and grabbed her silk robe from the hook near her bed. Her movements were less precise this morning, more agitated than usual, and still a bit sleepy as her slippers scuffed across the hardwood as she stormed to the front door.
When she opened it, ready to deliver a verbal cease and desist, she paused.
There was a man at her door, next to a large package. But the man at her doorstep didn’t look like the usual FedEx or UPS guy. He wore a crisp black-and-white suit with polished shoes, a slim earpiece tucked behind one ear. He stood beside a large, square wooden crate perched on a steel dolly, taller than he was and easily the size of a refrigerator.
“Yes?” Nadine asked, her tone sharp as broken glass.
The man, unreadable behind dark glasses, tilted his head. “Are you Nadine Nelson?”
She didn’t like the way he asked it. Like he already knew the answer.
“Yes.” She replied flatly, arms crossed over her robe.
“Great. This is for you.” He said, stepping forward and pushing the crate toward her. Nadine moved out of shock, and instinct with a crate that size barking towards her, inevitably letting the man in with the crate, but once she realized she was coming drier into her honey she stepped in, palms up. “Uh, excuse me!” She said, stopping him. “I didn’t order anything. And certainly not something that looks like it should be in a warehouse.”
The man didn’t blink, but that the should tell through his glasses. “You are Nadine Nelson, correct?”
She sighed, jaw tight. “Yes. I already said that.”
“Then this is for you.”
Without another word, he wheeled the box into her foyer. Her eyes widened as the dolly clacked over her expensive floors, the crate casting a looming shadow across the pristine white walls of her home, from the sun shining through the large windows.
“Wait—hold on.” Nadine said, gripping the belt of her robe. “I’m serious. I did not order this. You need to take it back.”
The man was already turning for the door. “Take it up with customs, ma’am.”
“What? Customs? What customs?”
He ignored her completely. As he stepped outside, Nadine caught him press two fingers to the earpiece tucked behind his ear. “It’s been delivered.” He said coolly, then walked down the hallway of her luxury building as her front door slid shut on its own.
Nadine stood there in stunned silence, her arms hanging at her sides as she stared at the box now squatting in the middle of her living room.
Then she screamed.
A long, guttural scream that echoed off the marble and glass of her carefully curated life. Something she tended to do to let out her overflowing emotions.
And after a minute or two of huffing out of breath and anger, she turned on her heel and stormed back to her bedroom. Her phone was still on the nightstand, glowing from a few missed notifications. She didn’t even bother to text. She opened her voice message, hit record, and in her usual no-nonsense tone, she snapped.
“Clear my schedule for today. All of it. There’s some bullshit I need to take care of.”She pressed send to Jane, and then tossed the phone onto the bed without a second thought.
Back in the hallway, she opened the hall closet and pulled out a crowbar from the bottom shelf of her emergency tool kit. She hadn’t touched it since she assembled her custom bookcases two years ago, but it felt oddly satisfying in her grip.
The walk back into the living room was almost cinematic if someone else was there to view it—robe flowing, face full of anger, slippers skimming the floor, crowbar in hand. The crate sat there like a taunt. Uninvited. Immovable.
She didn’t hesitate to go to town, unleashing her irritation onto the box. Nadine wedged the crowbar into the gap between the wood slats and yanked. A nail groaned before it snapped loose, followed by another, and another. She was methodical but furious, stripping the crate open like a woman possessed with rage. Bits of sawdust and packing foam floated through the air, nails flying left and right, a bit dangerous but she didn’t seem to care at the moment. All of it littering her previously immaculate living room.
Nadine kicked aside the last of the packing material, breath puffing from her lips in irritation. She was done. Done with the entire thing. She expected to find an overpriced espresso machine or something.
But instead, she opened the crate and was met with… another crate?
Her brows lifted, her irritation fading into a slow, confused frown.
It wasn’t like the shipping box. This one was different. Striking. A dark wood, deep mahogany with an almost matte sheen. The surface gleamed with intricate carvings, elegant but oddly ancient, like something pulled from the archives of some old, forgotten dynasty from long ago. And in the center was a large gem. Oval-shaped, but a natural look to it, like it was just pulled from the earth and placed into the center. It was embedded like a heart, its color a deep blue, almost black in the shadows but gleaming cerulean where the light hit. It shimmered like water at midnight.
Nadine let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her fingers hovered over the jewel, almost drawn to it, like it was calling to something beneath her skin. Something primal.
She reached forward.
The stone was cool. Smooth. Her fingertips just barely grazed the surface when—
FLASH.
The gem lit up instantly, glowing from within like a waking eye. Nadine gasped and jerked her hand back, stumbling slightly.
“What the hell?” She whispered.
But she couldn’t look away, no matter how bright the light got
The light from the gemstone pulsed slowly, rhythmically, like it had a heartbeat. And then, as if in response to her shock, the carvings along the chest began to glow as well—lines of a sliver blue creeping from the jewel into the grooves and patterns etched into the wood, filling every line until the whole thing shimmered in a way that made her chest tighten with unease and…awe.
Nadine blinked, and her heart thudded against her ribs.
This—this was definitely not something you could order off Amazon.
And that’s when she noticed it. Taped to the inner panel of the crate, partially obscured by packing straw, was an envelope. Thick. Heavy. Cream-colored paper with a glossy finish and silver wax seal.
She reached for it, peeling it free. The seal bore the emblem of the United States, but stylized. Sleek. Futuristic. Her name was printed across the front in smooth, robotic cursive.
𝐓𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧
She frowned. A deep, suspicious furrow. This crate was for her?
Snatching the envelope, she tore it open and unfolded the single sheet inside. The words were printed, formal, precise. But they sent a jolt down her spine.
𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐬. 𝐍𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧,
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝’𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐬, 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭.
𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡-𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝, 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞, 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐥.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.
𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞.
—𝐂.𝐑.𝐈.𝐒.
𝐂𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 & 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 | 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞
There was a purple glitter check mark by the question. And she closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath, already knowing who to blame for this. Nadine stared at the letter, then at the crate, then back again.
She was going to kill her niece and nephew.
And then—once the twins were grounded for life and Bianca was chewed out for letting them touch her mail—she was going to sue whoever thought it was cute to send her a six-foot robot without consent.
But for now, she placed the letter down slowly and stepped closer to the chest.
It hummed. Just once. A low vibration that rippled across the wood floor and into the soles of her feet. Then, the chest unfastened with a hiss.
The lid groaned.
A long, sinuous sound of pressure escaping, like the breath of something long dormant finally allowed to exhale. Mist pooled from the edges of the ornate coffin-like crate, curling along the floor like tendrils of fog. The dim morning light poured through the windows, catching the shimmer of the gemstone embedded in the chest—still pulsing with a slow, deliberate rhythm, like a heartbeat.
Nadine stared, crowbar slack in her hand, chest rising and falling too fast for comfort.
Inside, the shape was obscured. Cloth. A velvet-like black material draped across something… someone.
Another hiss whispered from the crate. The latches disengaged with an audible thunk. And slowly, ever so slowly, the coffin-like chest began to open—hinges smooth and silent, assisted by unseen tech. The lid released fully and slid backward, revealing more of the figure beneath.
Nadine inched forward, each footstep muffled by the hush of mist and the pounding of her heart. Her instincts screamed at her to stop. To turn around. To call someone. Her sister. Jane. The FBI. The CIA. The Pope.
She stared at it, eyes narrowing. “What did you two do?” She muttered, already picturing her nieces, innocent smiles hiding devilish delight, whispering and giggling as they plotted this chaos.
But her curiosity was stronger. That damned glimmering jewel. That sleek envelope with her name etched like some sort of prophecy. That letter that claimed this… thing knew her already.
The cloth stirred and Nadine froze.
Then the fabric peeled itself away—mechanically, precisely—revealing skin.
Well, no, not skin. It couldn’t be. It was just some beautiful mimicry of it. Smooth and matte. A man’s chest, carved with symmetrical precision and framed by sculpted shoulders. They were bare and powerful in the right compression shirt with the cut sleeves.
Nadine’s breath hitched.
And then he sat up. The fabric slipped off like water while Nadine stared, mouth slightly open.
It was slow and graceful, like someone waking from a century-long slumber. The man—because that’s what he looked like, down to the subtle flex of his hands—was breathtaking. Sculpted. Not just handsome, but deliberately so, he was made this way. Smooth dark skin, eyes like obsidian glass, and a face that didn’t seem designed but born from every secret longing she’d never dared voice. His eyes opened—two smoldering pools of warm obsidian, rimmed faintly with glints of silver. They found hers immediately.
Nadine staggered back a step.
He blinked once. Tilted his head. And then—smiled.
Not a robotic, lifeless twitch. But a curve of the mouth that felt… devastatingly real. It was warm and gentle. Intimate in a way.
Nadine almost forgot he was meant to be a robot and not some random man in a box.
“Nadine.” He said.
Her name, from his lips, made something low in her belly twist. His voice was deep, perfectly modulated, with just enough grit to make her toes curl. It was soft but strong, like thunder rolling far away across the sea.
“You—you know my name?” She asked, trying not to sound like a complete idiot. But she did anyways with the uncharacteristic stutter that slipped through, totally unlike her. The crowbar was still in her hand, but it felt laughable now. She wasn’t in danger. She was… almost enchanted in a way.
“Yes.” He said, stepping forward with fluid, feline grace. He towered a good foot above her, dressed in a fitted black uniform that shimmered faintly in the light. “I’ve always known your name, known it since you were assigned to the prototype queue.” He replied. “I was made for you. I’ve been learning you ever since.”
“Learning me?” She repeated, throat dry.
His eyes softened as he nodded. “I’ve watched your presentations. Your interviews. I’ve studied your calendar. Your habits. Your moods. What calms you. What drives you. What keeps you up at night.”
Her brows furrowed. “And why would you do that?”
“So I could be ready when you needed me.”
The words hit her like a wave. Sudden and unsettled something deep within her. It was undeniable.
“I didn’t need anyone.” She snapped at him out of instinct.
The man tilted his head, his eyes glowing blue as he scanned her face. ‘Defensive’ it flashed across his eyes. “No.” He agreed. “But you deserve someone.”
And then there was silence. A thick, emotional silence hung between them as Nadine stared up at him. His face was symmetrical, almost distractingly beautiful—like something a sculptor would weep over. But it was his gaze that disarmed her. No flicker of code was viable besides the unnatural glow, and even that was a bit comforting. There was no empty mimicry. He just looked at her, his eyes never once leaving her face.
“Who… what are you?” She whispered.
He then extended a hand with a small smile. Palm up. As if offering her not just an answer, but himself.
“I am AURA-7.” He said. “My designated name is Michael, but you can call me whatever feels right.”
Nadine didn’t move at first, her brain screaming a thousand warnings at her as her eyes flicked between his face and hang. Her chest was tight, unsure.
But her hand reached out anyway.
And when their skin touched—when her fingers slid against his palm—it wasn’t cold. It wasn’t metal. It was warm. Comforting and real. And this was the first time she’s touched someone in such a non work manner in a long time.
He smiled again, this time slower, more intimate.
And Nadine Nelson, woman of routine, disciple of control, high priestess of solitude… felt her entire world shift beneath her feet.
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minteababe · 18 hours ago
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In 2018 my husband and I (both trans masc) were arrested in a very small town in Texas for possession of cannabis. My husband passes as masc much better than I do, and so when we were initially being loaded up in the squad car, the cop was on his radio talking to dispatch telling them he had "one male and one female."
Now, my husband has never had his gender marker changed. So when dispatch came back, they were very, very confused, saying, "Uh, we're seeing two females?"
The cop then flipped on the dome light in the back seat and took a good long look at my husband in his rear-view mirror, and said, "Well, damn. Whatever you're doing is working. Good job."
That was it.
When we got to the precinct, in the midst of talking to the cop doing our intake, I said something (I don't remember anymore, but I think it had to do with being surprised at how chill they were with us being trans) and she replied with a big belly laugh, "Oh sweetie, y'all aren't the first trans folks we've had in here and you won't be the last."
They kept my partner in holding for his safety instead of putting him with the men.
Now, because I had long hair at the time and hadn't been on T long, I didn't pass at all. Naturally, they put me in general population with a group of 11 women.
Within the first 24 hours, I had explained to one of the women that I really shouldn't be in with them and it wasn't fair to them, because I was trans. Her face lit up like a kid on Christmas when I asked her to co-sign a letter asking the warden to have me separated. Not because she was malicious, but because in her words, "I knew there was something different about you when I saw you come in."
She asked my permission to talk to the other women and have them sign my letter, too.
Later that day, I found myself seated on a bunk surrounded by women who just had questions. And I had answers! And I was happy to give them those answers, because meeting me was their chance to learn. They asked me everything they could think of about being trans, medical and social transition, etc. Most of them were just in awe, because they had no idea that people like me existed. A few clearly didn't "agree" with it, but still held the sentiment of, "As long as you're not hurting anyone else, do what you want."
Afterwards, one of the women came to me in tears. She thanked me profusely for sitting with them and teaching them about my world. She then told me that her very young kid would often tell her, "Mommy, I want to be a girl when I grow up," and she just...never knew what to make of that before. She didn't know that was an option, and she was so happy and excited to be able to get out and go support her kid with more knowledge and understanding than she had before.
Think about that the next time someone asks you a genuine question. No, you don't "owe" anyone an education - but don't allow your knowledge and experience to become a barrier for others. Let me be clear: personal questions can be deeply uncomfortable, you don't have to answer them. Practice saying, "That question is difficult for me to answer because its a very vulnerable topic for me," instead of reacting in fear, anger, or defense. Being rude or aggressive in your refusal could mean that person never tries to learn about trans folks ever again.
People don't know what they don't know. And they never will know, if you refuse to teach them.
"The trannies should be able to piss in whatever toilet they want and change their bodies however they want. Why is it my business if some chick has a dick or a guy has a pie? I'm not a trannie or a fag so I don't care, just give 'em the medicine they need."
"This is an LGBT safe space. Of COURSE I fully support individuals who identify as transgender and their right to self-determination! I just think that transitioning is a very serious choice and should be heavily regulated. And there could be a lot of harm in exposing cis children to such topics, so we should be really careful about when it is appropriate to mention trans issues or have too much trans visibility."
One of the above statements is Problematic and the other is slightly annoying. If we disagree on which is which then working together for a better future is going to get really fucking difficult.
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0deathpainting0 · 3 days ago
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roommate!jjk men (can be any chars u want) with shyish!reader who’s not opposed to the idea of being a free use slut whenever they feel like it 🦇
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all yours
choso & mahito // geto & gojo // sukuna & toji 
summary: your roommates slowly figure out you're not as shy as you seem
warnings: 18+ f!reader, swearing, pet names(baby, good girl, sweet girl, etc), teasing, free use, somno, masturbation(m), spanking, fingering, oral(m+f), face fucking, p in v, raw, creampies, roughish, shower sex, praise
a/n: didn’t know if you wanted a two for one again but i did <3 and babes i swear ur in my mind bc ive been wanting to write abt free use for a min !! 
w/c: 6.2k was prepared to go on forever tho
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choso & mahito - 2.2k
The first time a line was crossed was when you walked into Mahitos room without knocking and found him sprawled out on his bed fisting his cock. Your eyes widened and you stood there frozen, unable to tear your gaze away. He didn’t stop or even try to cover up, actually a grin just formed on his face as he stroked himself a little harsher. His hips jerked up into his hand as he watched you squirm in his doorway with flushed cheeks. 
Slowly your eyes started to travel up his torso and when they locked with his you whimpered. His eyes were dark and a little crazed and you watched his brow furrow as he searched for his pleasure. His cheeks were faintly flushed and he let out a low groan that had your attention drawn to his mouth. Lips slightly pouted and wet from running his tongue along them seemed like a forbidden invitation. He cursed lowly and you watched as he spilled cum over his hand still sloppily fucking his hand. 
“Need something?” Mahito tilts his head with a lazy smile. 
“‘m sorry.” you shake your head quickly and run to your room. 
You didn’t avoid Mahito after that but you also couldn’t look him in the eyes. You would only look at him if you knew he was occupied with something else and with one glimpse you were left squeezing your thighs and trying to push away the image of him fisting his weeping cock. But when he would catch you he would be hovering over you instantly. Dipping down, letting his breath fan against your neck. 
“Looks like you need something.” he chuckles when you shake your head. “No?” you shake your head again. “Go get Choso for me.” he watches you nod and disappear down the hall. 
This wasn’t necessarily a line being crossed but it had the same effect on you nonetheless. You knocked softly on Choso’s door waiting for his response. He opened it and the sight you were greeted with had your heart pounding. His hair was still slightly dripping and a towel sat low on his hips. You opened and closed your mouth, not able to stop yourself from looking over every inch of him. When you finally looked up at his face he tilted his head slightly. 
“D’you need something?” his voice washes over you. 
“I..” you watch a drop of water drip from his hair down to his chest and you shake your head. 
Choso watches as you walk to your room and quickly click the door shut. He shrugs before shutting his own door and continues to put his clothes on. When he opens his door again he’s greeted by Mahito about to knock on his door. 
“Well how long are you gonna take? I asked for you like 30 minutes ago.” Mahito glares at Choso. 
“No you didn’t?” Choso squints his eyes. 
“I sent her here to get you.” Mahito looks around Choso’s room to see if you’ve made other plans. 
“Oh,” Choso hums. “Nah, she knocked on my door and got all blushy before going to her room.” he shrugs, looking down the hall at your room. 
When you heard knocks on your door you didn’t know what to expect. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep they would just go away but then came another set of knocks. You sigh and drag yourself out of bed and crack the door open. You hide a little more behind the door when you see it’s the both of them. They’re both fully clothed but your mind couldn’t care less. Heat blooms throughout your body as you look at them both standing in your doorway. 
“Can we come in?” Mahito grins as the flush on your cheeks deepen. 
“Mm,” you look back at your room not knowing how to get out of this. You feel like you’re going to combust if you look at them again. 
“Or we can go to the living room?” Choso offers and your hand tightens on the door. 
You step out of your room and they step aside for you to walk out. When you sit down on the couch they take a seat on either side of you and look down at your hands in your lap. The weight of their stares is slowly seeping into your skin and you chew your lips waiting for one of them to say something. 
“Wanna tell us why you’ve been a lil more shy than normal?” Choso’s soft voice coaxes you to turn to him. 
“I dunno.” you whisper, blinking up at him. 
“I think it started about a week ago..” Mahito teases next to you. “Ya know.. When you watched me cum.” you feel your face light on fire at his words. 
“I..” you turn to him with wide eyes. 
“Don’t act all innocent, baby.” he drawls, letting his fingertips skim up your thigh. “We both were there.” he grins. “When you ran off to your room did you think about it when you played with your pussy?” he watches you squeeze your legs together at his words. 
“That what you were doing when we knocked on your door?” Choso’s tone makes you turn your attention to him. “Did seeing me fresh outta shower get you all worked up?” you whine at his words. 
“Y’know we can help you,” Mahito softly squeezes your thigh before continuing to the edge of your skirt. 
“We can always make sure you’re taken care of.” you feel yourself melting into the couch at Choso’s words. 
“Just give yourself over to us.” you gasp when Mahitos fingers graze your soaked panties. “Fuck, baby,” he groans pressing against the fabric feeling how truly wet you are. “Can Cho feel how wet he got you?” he peels your panties to the side and drags a single finger up your slit. 
“Yeah,” you nod your head quickly. 
After that if there were any more lines between the three of you they were all crossed that night. You were theirs completely in every aspect and couldn’t be more content. They thought you would still be shy but most times you were throwing yourself at them, begging them for anything. Any suggestion or idea they had you agreed to eagerly and without any complaint. 
Mahito mentioned his idea to you a couple days ago and watched as your eyes sparkled as you nodded. So now he’s standing at the edge of your bed watching you sleep, thanking himself and Choso for suggesting you just sleep naked from now on. The blankets are pushed down and tangled between your legs leaving your chest exposed to him. Your nipples are perked from the soft breeze of the fan and they’re taunting him to come over and give them attention. 
He slowly undoes the blanket and pushes your thighs open for himself. Your thigh twitches when he places a soft kiss on it and then another and another before starting on your other. Hooking his arms under you, he brings your center closer to his mouth and licks a line through your slit. Your hips jerk against his face when he repeats the action and he hears your soft whine. 
His small kitten licks against your bud have your pussy leaking already. He licks down to your core and pushes his tongue inside groaning at your taste as he starts to make his way back up to your bud to suck it into his mouth. He glances up when a moan escapes you but your eyes are still shut and your fingers are softly digging into one of your plushies. Your chest heaves as he zeros his tongue in on your bud and he smirks when your breathing quickens. 
“Hito,” you murmur, hips starting to buck against his face. 
Your thighs start to squeeze his head but he couldn’t be bothered as he’s embraced by your warmth and wetness. Every whine and gasp that you allow him to hear only makes him press closer to your pussy. He wants to know what cute little sound you’ll make when you cum all over his face in your sleep. He slowly creeps one of his arms up your body and takes one of your nipples between two fingers. He rolls the hard bud before pinching it between his digits. That one pinch is all it took to have you grinding against his face letting your juices run down his face. 
“Mmmph, yes,” you whimper as he continues to softly lick at you. 
He rubs your thighs on either side of his head as he starts to kiss up your body. “Gonna flip you over.” he whispers in your ear before placing a soft kiss on your neck. You’re pliant in his hands as he flips you onto your tummy and chuckles when you cuddle closer to you plushie. “Hold onto him real tight for me baby.” he lifts your hips and smooths his hand up your back. 
Your pussy opens right up for him as he slowly pushes his cock into you. He keeps his pace slow as he slowly rocks into you keeping himself on the edge of pleasure. The way you cling to your plushie with every stroke and let out small gasps has him digging his fingers into your waist. He continues to slowly fuck you into your bed until he can’t take it anymore and fills your fluttering pussy and collapsing next to you. He pulls the blankets over you both and finds sleep himself. 
Choso’s desires were a little more restrained. Of course he still took you when he wanted but you could tell he really liked when you would truly just hand yourself over to him at any given time. His favorite thing to do was to get in the shower right before you got home so he could catch you in the hallway. The bathroom door would open and steam would pour out and you would turn and look at him and forget how to breathe, forget your morals, forget anything that wasn’t Choso standing before you with a towel low on his hips. 
“Just getting back?” he would smirk at you. 
“Mhm,” you nod, walking to stand in front of him. “Use me.” his cock twitches watching you sink to your knees in the middle of the hallway. “Please,” you blink up at him.
“Yeah?” he cups your jaw. “Guess you could suck me off since you’re down there.” he rubs his thumb along your lower lip. 
“Please,” you suck his thumb into your mouth. 
He slips his thumb out of your mouth and undoes the knot in his towel before letting it drop to the ground. His cock springs up in front of your face and you scoot closer wrapping your fingers along his shaft. Bringing the tip to your mouth you trail your tongue around the head, lapping against his slit as he starts to leak pre. You suck his tip into your mouth and pop it out, repeating this a couple of times until his fingers tangle in your hair. 
You lean back to press your lips down his length and glance up at his flushed cheeks. He jolts when you suck his balls into your mouth while starting to slowly stroke him. You lick back up to his tip and sink your mouth down around him pulling a low groan from him. He starts to guide you and you softly close your eyes and let him start to control your movements. Fingers tightening in your hair, he starts to bob you up and down, losing himself to your hot mouth. He twitches when he hits the back of your throat and you sputter. 
“Fuck baby,” he jerks his hips into your mouth. “Perfect lil mouth feels so good around my cock.” he pants holding your head still as he starts to fuck your mouth. “Yeah just like that,” your hands hold onto his thighs as you look up at him with fluttering eyes. “My good girl, my messy girl,” his tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. 
Your thighs are sticky and clenched together at his words as you feel spit trailing out of your mouth. Each small choked sound that comes from you sends his pleasure racing towards him and his stomach coils when he spots the first tear to trail down your cheek. You hum when his head is tossed back and he starts to fill your throat with ropes of his cum. He holds your head down and you dig your nails into his skin, sending his pleasure even higher. He pulls you off of him and watches a string of spit and cum connect you before snapping and sticking against your chin and neck. 
“You’re fucking perfect.” he cups your cheek and helps you stand. He presses his lips to yours, never caring about the mess. “Got some stuff to do.” he mumbles into your mouth. “But later ‘m gonna reward you.” he nods, stepping back and walking to his room. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you til he’s done.” Mahito grabs your hand and takes you to his room.
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geto & gojo - 1.7k
It was a slip of words that had you on the end of Gojos relentless teasing. You glare at him from the couch trying to mask your embarrassment with anger but he can see right through you. He even goes so far as to pinch your cheeks and cooing about how flushed they are. You bat his hand away and he flops down on the couch and drapes himself on your shoulder. His cologne floods your nose and his hair brushing against your neck sends more heat throughout your body. 
“So you think I’m hot?” he squishes your cheek. 
“No,” you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. 
“I think you dooo.” he drags the word out with a grin. 
“I think you’re stupid.” you huff and go to your room shutting the door with a defining click. 
Gojo had made it his goal to keep you flushed and squirming for.. for the rest of time. He’ll never let you live this down and you’re sure your cheeks will start bubbling with how hot they stay. He makes it a point to walk closer to you and let his hands linger on you. Whispering in your ear, your personal space is now his, along with teasing you until you’re whining and covering your face. 
“C’mon baby,” Gojo coaxes trying to pull your hands away. “Lemme see your cute little face.” he successfully moves your hands and you look up at him with a soft pout. “There she is.” he cups your cheeks. “Y’know I was wondering..” he rubs his thumbs on your heated skin. “If you think I’m hot what do you think about Suguru?” he chuckles when your eyes widen. 
“You’re gonna tell him.” you shake your head in his hands. 
“Only if it’s something worth telling.” he grins. “You can tell me.” his voice lowers as he nods. “You can even whisper it.” he turns his head so your confession can go right in his ear. 
“I dunno,” your words barely a breath. 
“I think you do.” you don’t even have to see his smirk to know it’s there. “You think he’s hot?” 
“Mm,” you whine knowing you’re about to let your words spill out again. “I think he’s like.. really pretty.” he snaps his head towards you with a grin. “Toru please,” 
“I’m so telling him.” he falls back onto the couch in a fit of laughter. “Nooo come back.” he reaches after you as you practically run to your room. 
For the next couple of days everything seems perfectly normal. Geto doesn’t look at you any different and Gojo continues with his teasing. When they invite you to the pool you agree, excited to finally enjoy the sun. Excitement soon turns to something different when they remove their shirts before getting in the water. Gojo gives you a knowing smirk as he watches you take off your cover up. You avoid his eyes and step into the pool hoping the cool lick of the water will calm you but the way you can feel their eyes on you only makes you more flustered. 
“Soo did you know she thinks I’m hot?” Gojo offers Geto a lazy smile. 
“Satoru,” you hiss. 
“You talk about it everyday.” Geto shakes his head with a smile and you beg the pool to swallow you whole. 
“Did you also know that I asked her if she thought you were hot?” Gojo raises his eyebrows. 
“Ohmygod,” you cover your face. 
“Tell Suguru what you said.” Gojo chuckles as you pull your hands down and peek across at Geto.
“Satoru must you always tease her?” Geto can’t hide his smirk, already knowing what you’ve said. 
“Just tell him.” he nods with his smile you can’t say no to.
“I think you’re pretty.” you blush furiously as Geto turns his full attention to you.
“Exact words.” Gojo tuts. 
“I think you’re really pretty.” your words get softer as Geto steps closer to you. 
“Yeah?” he cradles your cheeks and you nod. 
“Yeah,” you breathe out. 
“Well I think you’re absolutely adorable.” Geto coos. 
“The cutest little roommate we could ask for.” Gojos hands slip around your waist and you squeak as he presses you against Geto. “You got me wondering about something else baby.” he softly squeezes your side. 
“Hm?” you lean back against Gojos chest when Geto lets one of his hands slide to your jaw and tilt your head further back. 
“Why don’t you let me and Geto have you?” Geto locks eyes with Gojo at your whimper. “I can make you flush for different reasons.” you gasp when he grinds his covered cock against your ass. 
“And when you're done with his teasing I’ll take you to my room and lock us inside.” Geto nods, rubbing his thumb on your jaw. 
After that everything shifted. You’ve never felt more satisfied yet so scandalized with everything that goes on with the three of you behind closed doors. They both tease you about how you still get embarrassed when they talk openly about how messy they had you cumming all over their cock. Sometimes this would lead to them hoisting you up onto the table and seeing which of them could make you cum the hardest. 
Gojos new favorite way to tease you was to have you perched on his cock and bouncing away and you list off things you like about him. He sits back and watches your tits bounce listening to your juices leak between you two as you try to form a word. One of his hands loosely holds onto your hip while the other rests on your lower tummy, letting his thumb lazily circle your throbbing bud. 
“Tell me more, baby.” he watches you peel your eyes open. 
“Your.. mm your hair,” you nod rolling your hips against his. 
“What else?” he squeezes your hip getting your attention again. 
“Toru,” you whine when he starts to move his thumb faster. 
“You like my name?” he taunts.
“Mhmm,” you nod, humping against him and sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “I like.. like your voice ‘n..”
“Keep goin,” he grunts, feeling you squeeze around him. 
“Your eyes,” you gasp when he jerks his hips up. “I.. I really like-“ he pulls you down against his chest and starts to snap his hips into yours sending you into a frenzy of whimpers and soft cries. 
“You gotta,” he grunts. “Gotta tell me what you really like.” he pants. “Know you can say more than just ‘yes’ and my name.” he chuckles, feeling more of your pleasure leak between the two of you. 
“Your cock, ‘s perfect,” a high pitched gasp comes from you and you fall apart. 
“That’s my good girl,” he hammers his hips into you as he starts to fill you with his cum. “Can’t believe you think I’m perfect.” he grins up at you finally stilling inside you. 
On the off chance that Gojo is teasing you while you're not on his cock Geto will quite literally come take you and lock you in his room while you preen about him being your savior. Whispered words between kisses about how you have to give him something for his galant rescue. He’ll shush you with kisses and press you into his mattress beneath him effectively silencing and trapping you. 
“Lemme take your hair down, Sugu,” you murmur into his mouth, fingers quickly finding the tie. 
He nods and you delicately undo the tie and sigh contently as his hair curtains around the both of you. The low groan that comes from him as you card your fingers through his hair sends heat throughout your body. He rolls his hips into yours and you tug softly on his silky strands. The next couple of minutes consist of fumbling hands and flying clothes until there are no barriers between the both of you. All of your heated touches and kisses leave you wet and waiting for him when he lines his tip up at your fluttering pussy. 
“Satoru said you called him perfect the other day..” Geto mumbles, slowly sliding into you. 
“I..” you furrow your brows not knowing what to say. 
“He’s been tryna make me jealous.” he voice drops as he moves to press his lips to your neck. “Gotta admit.. it’s kinda working.” he softly bites into your skin before soothing it with his tongue. 
“Suguru,” you gasp as he pulls out to snap his hips back in. 
“After all of the ‘rescuing’ I’ve done?” he chuckles lowly into your neck. “But today,” he snaps his hips again. “You are locked in this room until I’m done.” you flutter around him at his tone. 
He hears you start to respond and starts to hammer into you. He could never truly be mad at you and he knows Gojos words were only meant to spur him on and he decided to finally take the bait. You’re whimpering beneath him letting out incoherent pleas as you dig your nails into his shoulders. His pace is ruthless and becomes even more so when he pushes your leg up and leans back. He looks down at the mess you're making all over him and his sheets before glancing back and your scrunched face. 
“If you wanna cum you're gonna repeat after me.” he leans down and grabs your chin never letting his pace falter. “And loudly.” he smirks knowing the war he’s about to start. “Okay?” you nod trying not to burst at the way he grinds into you. 
“Yes,” you pant. “Anything please,” 
“Suguru,” he nods at you bringing a thumb down to rub at your bud watching your pussy cry a little harder. 
“Sugu.. Suguruu,” you cry out and he smirks. 
“Is,” his fingers dig into your leg as he has to push off his own pleasure. 
“Is,” your voice cracks followed by a loud moan. 
“Better.” he watches you work out the word on your tongue. 
“Better.” you squeak. “Suguru’s better, Sugu’s better..” you chant as you start to pulse around him. 
“That’s right baby,” he groans, spilling his cum into your seeping pussy. He lets your leg down and he slowly continues to rock into you sending aftershocks through the both of you. “We’re not-
“Open the door.” Gojo bangs on Sugurus bedroom door before jiggling the handle. 
“We’re not done.” Geto hums. “Maybe later.” his tone mocking. Geto ignores the continued banging against his door as he grinds himself into you until he’s hard again. 
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sukuna & toji - 2.3k
All this started because you forgot your robe after the shower. So with an arm squished over your breasts and the smallest wash cloth being held with white knuckles to cover between your legs you peek your head out into the hall before taking your chance. You start to sprint down the hall to only smash into Sukuna’s chest. Your cheeks are on fire and you squeeze your eyes shut willing a robe to wrap around your body but then you feel his hands grab your waist and you gasp, snapping your eyes open. 
“Whatcha doing?” he grins down at you. 
You shake your head and scuttle past him running the rest of the way to your room. Pushing your door shut, you lean back against it feeling your cheeks get even hotter. The wash cloth is thrown across the room as you stare daggers at your robe hanging on the wall near your mirror. Your bed promises to engulf you and your shame and you take quick steps to it before collapsing into your blankets and burying your head in your pillows. Minutes pass as you let the world drift away and curl further into your blankets. Your eyes become heavy as you let sleep take you as hours slip by.
“Hey, you up?” Sukuna knocks on your door with scrunched brows. You never hide in your room this long and he’s starting to get worried. “Baby?” he knocks again. 
You spring up from the bed and rush to grab your robe before making it to the door. “Yeah?” you crack the door open and look up at him. 
“You okay?” he takes in your lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. “Were you sleeping?” he leans against your doorframe. 
“Mhm,” you nod. 
“Come eat with me and Toji. We ordered in and got your favorite stuff.” he keeps his voice soft trying to coax you out of your room. 
“Really?” you pull your door open more. 
“Yeah, c’mon,” he offers you his hand. 
You grab onto his hand and he pulls you against his side before leading you down the hall. When you reach the dining room you see Toji lounging back in a chair with a lazy smirk as he takes in your form draped in your silk robe. You take a seat and they start to pass you a plate and boxes of take out. 
“Heard you streaked down the hallway.” Toji chuckles as your eyes widen. 
“Kuna,” you pout at him. 
“You looked good, baby. Don’t need to be embarrassed.” he shovels some food onto your plate before taking his fill. “Might just have to throw away all the towels and robes so it can keep happening.” 
“You’re a pervert.” you can’t help the way your cheeks burn under his gaze. 
“I wanna see since he got to see.” Toji grabs your attention and you turn to him. 
“Toji,” you whine. 
“Just a lil peek.” he grins. “After dinner.” he points at you with his fork before turning back to his plate. 
All dinner you were sure you were going to explode as they kept teasing you. Your robe was clutched between your hands as you tried to focus on your food but their low words and chuckles are keeping you on edge. They’ve always been flirtatious but their words seem more charged and their eyes hold a hunger you’ve never seen before. Dinner comes to an end and you feel like you’ve melted into a puddle under the table. 
“Look at you all flushed n squirmy.” Toji pushes his chair back and walks over to you. “Stand up baby.” he scoots your chair back. 
“Kuna didn’t see anything.” you rise from the chair and blink up at him. 
“No?” he steps closer to you. “So he didn’t see you squishing your chest together, still dripping from the shower?” his hands start to tug on the ties of your robe. “Or your cute little ass as you ran down the hall?” 
“Mmm,” you cover your face with your hands. “Toji,” you gasp as you feel the tie on your robe come undone and you clutch at it quickly. 
“You’re so fuckin cute baby.” he groans. “Lemme see.” he smiles as you let him pluck your fingers from the silk and he watches it start to open. 
“Well now he’s getting a better look.” Sukuna drawls from across the table. 
“Can we give him a better look too?” Toji brushes his knuckles against your cheek. “Yeah?” he prompts you, watching you nod.
“Yeah,” you suck your bottom lip between your teeth as Toji lets his hand drop to your shoulder and start to push off the silk. “That’s our good girl.” his fingers leave your skin pebbling in their wake as he bares you to the both of them. Toji starts to walk over to Sukuna and you trail behind him trying to hide behind his back. 
“Come on out, sweet girl.” Sukuna chuckles. You poke your head out from behind Toji and are greeted by Sukunas grin. “Not gonna bite or nothing.” the way his eyes are devouring you alive makes his words hard to believe. 
“I might.” you squeak when Tojis hand pushes against your waist and scoots you between the both of them. 
“Why’ve you been hiding from us?” Sukuna takes one of your hands and pulls you closer.  
“Been keeping this lil ass to yourself.” Toji tuts making you gasp as he grabs a handful of your ass. 
“I- Kuna,” you whimper when his hands come up to cup your breasts. “Mm,” you squeeze your thighs together when he takes your nipples between his fingers. 
“You like us touching you?” Sukuna watches you squeeze your eyes shut when he flicks his thumbs against the hardened buds. 
“Mhm,” you lean back when Toji brings his other hand to your waist and trails his calloused fingers over your skin. 
“What’s got you squeezing these thighs together?” Toji's voice washes over you as his fingers skim towards your lower tummy. “Hm?” he smirks watching your breathing deepen as he keeps creeping lower. 
“Want us to touch you here too?” Sukuna moves one of his hands down to start sliding up between your thighs.
“Please,” you whimper. 
Ever since that night the boundaries between the three of you have completely dissolved. It kept your heart beating a little faster when you were home with them. How possessive their touches were, how tightly they held you. With just a look they could leave you dripping and fluttering around nothing in anticipation of what they’ll do. 
Sukuna didn’t throw the towels away but you slowly stopped using them because he would usually show up in the middle of your shower anyways. You would still gasp every time he pulled the shower curtain aside and stepped in. He would tower over you as he scooted you back against the tile to box you in. He steps closer, satisfied with watching your chest heave in anticipation.
“Please,” you push your chest into his as he presses you back against the cool tile.
“Hush, ‘m right here.” he leans down and takes your lips. “Always so needy.” he mumbles against your lips as his hands hook under your ass and lift you. “Know you’ve been waitin for me to come in here.” he smirks as you wrap your legs around him. 
“Please Kuna,” you curl your arms behind his neck, letting your nails rake along his skin. “Please please,” you whine when you’re pushed harder against the tile as he looks between you both to line himself up. “Yeesss,” you tug on his hair, feeling the familiar stretch of him pushing into you. 
He’s about to tell you to be quiet but it’s not like you're saying anything. Your words are lost to broken moans and small whines as his thrusts become demanding. “Feel fuckin perfect.” he starts to snap his hips into yours. 
You bounce yourself against him and with every wet smack of your hips your mind goes a little more blank. Sukuna watches your eyes start to flutter so he presses you harder against the tile with his hips and grinds himself into you. Nails clawing into his neck you shutter feeling the pressure start to build in your tummy. He pulls his hips back just to smack them back into you. 
“Kuna,” your breath is stolen from you when he starts to ram into you again. 
“Hm?” he grunts, digging his fingers into your skin. Your juices wet his cock more than the stream of water pouring down his back. “What d’you want?” he groans when one of your hands tangle in his hair and pull him closer.
“Ca- Can you.. please,” your wrecked voice has his hips snap into yours a little harder. “‘m gonna cum.. gonna cu- yesyes,” you pulse around him. “Want you to,” you gasp as pulls you off of the wall and snaps his hips up into yours pulling whimpers and cries from your mouth. 
“You want more?” he lets out a shaky chuckle. 
“Cum,” you press your forehead to his shoulder. “Your cum.” you nod your head. “Want it in me.” you press your lips to his skin.
“Course ‘m gonna fill you up.” he’s happy you don’t notice the way his voice wavers. “Pussy’s begging for it. Hugging me so tight.” he pants. 
“Please, I need it.” you whine and he feels his pleasure snap. 
“Then take it all.” he grunts and slowly grinds his cum into you. 
“Thank you, thank you,” you cling against him, rocking your hips into his. 
Toji has gotten used to being woken up from his naps by you and Sukuna going at it. Sometimes he would join but when he’s tired like this he’ll just close his eyes again and wrap his hand around his cock. He plans out what he’ll do to you later, sending his cum falling onto his hand and stomach as he listens to your cries as Sukuna takes you. He’ll fall back asleep with a smile and not wake until the moon is high in the sky and the apartment is dark. He doesn’t even bother to put on his sweats as he makes his way to the kitchen. 
As if you were waiting for him to wake up he hears you pouring yourself a drink. He smirks and lightens his footsteps as a grin forms on his face. The fridge shuts and he watches you set your glass in the sink as he slowly stalks around the counter. He steps directly behind you and watches your back straighten. You gasp when his hands grip your hips and press you into the counter. He pushes you down against the chilly surface and kicks your legs apart. Upon seeing your panty clad pussy he starts to slide his cock up and down the quickly dampening fabric.
“Toji,” you whimper, pressing your forehead against the counter. 
“Hush,” he brings a hand down to give you a quick spank. “Don’t wanna hear it, you woke me up from my nap earlier.” he swats his hand against your other cheek. 
He keeps one hand pressed to your back keeping you stuck against the counter while he lets the other grab all over you listening to your gasps and whines as he rocks his hips faster. His cock twitches when you arch your back for him and he feels the thin fabric start to get squishy from how wet you are. The whimpers escaping your lips have him leaking his pre all over your panties as he continues to hump against you. Your little gasps tell him how much you’re enjoying this and he chuckles when you kick one of your legs up when he quickens his pace. 
Toji lands two fast spanks on each of your cheeks before he slips his cock under your panties. You both groan at the contact before he continues his previous movements. You wiggle your hips and rock against him trying to catch his tip in your aching pussy only for him to stop his movements and spank you again before stepping back. He smirks when you turn your head with a frown when you see him stroking his cock.
“In me.” you plead, spreading your legs wider. “Please Toji,” he presses his hand hard against your back as you start to squirm. “Please.” 
“I dunno,” he leans closer to you, panting slightly. “I could cum like this.” he smacks his tip against the heated skin of your ass.
“‘m sorry I woke you up.” he watches your eyes well up. “Please,” he looks and sees your pussy crying along with you. “Toji please.”
“Yeah, alright.” he slides into your throbbing pussy and you press your cheek against the counter at his stretch. “Course you’re expecting me to fuck you too.” he sighs starting to pull out. “Anything else you’re wantin from me?” he lets out a low chuckle.
“Thank you.” you whine when his hips start to fall into yours. “Thank you, Toji.” you press back into him. 
His other palm lands on the counter next to your head as his hips start to pound into you frantically. The moans that tear out of your throat are barely louder than your juices sopping all over Tojis cock and down your thighs. He leans down over you and presses his chest into your back, smushing you into the counter. Your high catches you by surprise and you burst around him, thanking him over and over. With a few more sloppy thrusts he’s spilling his cum into you with low curses falling from his mouth. 
“Well damn,” Sukuna chuckles from the doorway. “Just needed a snack.” a grin spreads across his features as he walks over to the both of you. 
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
                                      masterlist
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alex51324 · 16 hours ago
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Mice are fun pets! I had one for a while after he took up residence in a cowoker's parents' garage. I forget exactly how I ended up going to my coworker's parents' house to collect the mouse--I'm sure it had something to do with them knowing I was good with animals, but I don't remember anything about the conversation, just that I turned up at their house with an old bird cage and no clear idea of what I was going to do about this situation.
my coworker's parents had set out an array of, like, gardening gloves and I think a fishnet; whatever they had on hand that they thought would help, which only deepened my sense of being in over my head. But then the mouse came out and was just sitting there looking at us, and I reached over and grabbed him and put him in the cage, and trust me, I was as surprised as anyone else, but boy were they impressed.
He was a nice little friend for a couple of years, which is about what you get with mice. I used to go to the salad bar at the grocery store and pick out tiny mouse-sized quantities of the different items to give him for treats. One time we won third place in a pet costume contest; he was a Haunted Mouse, and the costume was I decorated his cage with craft foam and stuff, to look like a haunted house.
Anyway, that's two nickels on the "stray mouse successfully rescued and rehomed" situation.
5/9/25: Is anyone in the Denver Botanic Gardens/Cheeseman park area Missing a pet mouse?
This guy is in the Japanese Tea Garden:
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I'm going to get the staff to take him inside, I hope he's alright and can get home.
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nejiverse · 17 hours ago
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‘FLYING OBJECTS’ AND THEIR BIG MOUTHS..
Kinich, Ifa
In which Ajaw and Cacucu reveal all their partners’ hidden feelings. Fem! Reader
cw: kissing, hope they arent ooc🥹
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1104 words
Y/n was walking a good few steps ahead of Kinich and Ajaw, humming a tune Kinich couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he would soon find out that was the least of his worries.
Ajaw, who was always looking for something to pester Kinich about, noticed how the male threw multiple side glances at Y/n's retreating figure.
At this, a sly grin spread across his face.
"Oho what's this?", Ajaw echoed suddenly, loud enough to make a few qucusauri frantically scatter.
"Is our proud warrior tripping over his own feet just watching her walk?!".
Kinich rolled his eyes and swatted ajaw away but to no surprise he came right back.
What he said wasnt completely off the mark, but it wasnt just her walk. It was her posture, the way she carried herself, and most especially the way she would quickly glance back to make sure they werent too far behind, accompanied with that small smile that if interpreted into words would say 'im glad youre still there'.
Kinich would find himself counting down the minutes until she would give him another quick glance.
"I'm not, now stop annoying me", he scoffed.
"You so are! I'm telling Y/n~", he sang as he made his way to her side before Kinich could even attempt to grab him.
Kinich swore to himself that after today, Ajaw would never see the light of day again as he hurried to catch up to the two, now only a few steps behind the girl.
"I will end you", he mouthed as to not attract Y/n's attention but Ajaw was unfazed.
Being by Y/n's side gave Ajaw confidence to say whatever he wanted. After all, Kinich would never do anything rash in front of her.
"Honestly, it's adorable", the dragon lord mocked. "If you write Y/n a poem i'm absolutely reading that out loud!", he snickered.
Y/n laughed at Ajaw's antics. "A poem you say?", Y/n turned around now walking backwards. "If you write me one I expect a dramatic delivery! Bonus points if you pathetically cry halfway through", she teased.
Kinich folded his arms. "If I were to write a poem it’d be about someone who steals my food and calls it bonding".
He didnt miss a step, but inwardly he was pleading ajaw wouldnt take it further than he already had.
"See? he hates me!", Y/n frowned. “And it’s not stealing...its tactical aquiring..".
"Actually, lover boy over here has a huuuuge crush on you!".
"Quit it ajaw—", after he saw Kinich's hand coming out to grab him, he swiftly manoeuvred to Y/n's other shoulder.
"Like a trip-over-your-own-feet, cant-look-her-in-the-eye, i-hope-she-doesnt-think-im-being-too-cold kind of crush!".
Y/n stopped in her tracks and closed what little distance was between them, her eyes meeting his own. "Really?".
Kinich was quick to avert his gaze.
"You know how Ajaw can be—"
He was cut off when her hand combed back the hair at his ears, a red tint now coating them.
They two had known each other for a long time, she knew all his tells.
He grunted in embarrassment, eyebrow twitching involuntarily.
Y/n placed her hands at either side of his face ultimately forcing them to make eye contact.
"Is it true Kinich? Your answer will determine what I do next".
What should he do? Just say no and play it off as ajaw being a nuisance? Or maybe not answer at all? Or—
"..yes", he said at last, gritted and honest. "It’s true".
And without another word, she placed a kiss on his lips.
Ajaw huffed. "Bleh. so much for light teasing and tragic denial".
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Y/n was helping out Ifa with the saurians when Cacucu blurted. "Yo, bro Ifa has a crush".
Ifa nearly choked on air, internally cursing Citlali.
It was only yesterday, after Citlali had figured him out that he went home muttering to himself and had no idea Cacucu could hear him. "I have a crush on Y/n? How could she even know that?”.
He noted to himself to keep his schizophrenia in his head.
Ifa ran a hand through his hair. "That was supposed to stay between me and the cold side of the clinic tent Cacucu..". And also Citlali but that part was against his will.
Y/n perked up like a tepetlisaurus. "Wait—hold on. Hold on. You have a crush? On who? I wanna know!".
Ifa pointed a finger at Cacucu. "Just so you know, you’re banned from talking until moulting season".
"Ifa has a crush on Y/n!". Why cacucu kept going was beyond Ifa, he felt simply betrayed.
"Cool, love that for me", he muttered with a dry voice.
"Wait..me?", she pointed at herself in disbelief.
Ifa had a lopsided grin. "Yeah its you. Obviously. I mean, you’re out here tending to saurians with me, laughing at my awful jokes, making the hatchlings fall asleep with your voice, and im just supposed to not feel something?".
The pair's conversation was cut short when Ororon bursted into the clinic blabbering about how he messed up and how Citlali was gonna kill him.
So a short while later when the noise had settled down and Ifa and Y/n had finished up for the day, the two sat down against a tree, the last stretch of Natlan’s sunlight making its final appearance.
"Sorry about earlier", Ifa rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm just so used to fixing things, not feeling them", he admitted.
Y/n gave him a reassuring smile. "Well you're doing okay so far", she nodded. "And besides, it adds to your boyish charm", she teased.
Ifa chuckled softly. "Yeah?".
"Yeah".
There's a pause — soft, steady. The kind of silence that feels like it's holding its breath.
Ifa studied her face like he's still not sure he's allowed to want this. His fingers brushed up along her wrist, feather-light, as he leaned in just a little closer.
"...Can I?", he said with a low voice, almost unsure.
He raised up his hand, careful, fingers curling just under her chin to tilt her face up. His gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips.
"You're really asking? After all that?".
She laughed softly, and the sound is so gentle it tugs something loose in his chest. Her hand moved to cover his, holding it in place under her chin. "You better."
And that's all he needs.
If only she knew how long he had been waiting to do that.
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masterlist :)
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pascalsslvt · 1 day ago
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Kiss it better
Paring: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
one-shot
Summary: It's Sarah's birthday and you and your dad get invited to her party thrown by his best friend Joel Miller. You have known Joel your whole life, you're coming from college for the summer and things get hot and steamy. 
Warnings: MDI 18+, daddy kink, unprotected p in v, age gap reader is 22 and Joel is 45, unprotected sex, pet names, cum play, degrading kink, praise kink, porn with semi plot, mention of Sarah, dom/sub, cum eating, oral (f receiving), No outbreak
A/N: Soooooooooooo this is like my first ever actually well written fic. I am so obsessed with Joel right now it is not even funny, it makes my heart actually hurt that I can’t have him. Anyways I came up with this idea while in the car on the way home and I was listening to Kiss it better by Rihanna. So yeah, I hope you guys enjoy this fun little one-shot!!
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It was a warm summer day in Austin, Texas. You were back from college after graduating. Your dads best friend Joel Miller, was having a birthday party for his daughter Sarah. He invited you and your dad and pretty much the whole neighborhood for his daughter's 13th birthday. You weren’t really sure what to buy a 13 year old since it had been so long since you were a teenager. You decided to get her a polaroid camera. You decided to wear a red and white plaid dress with a lace hem at the bottom and cowgirl boots, with a matching lace pair of panties and bra. Your dad knocks your door and calls out for you. “You ready to get going sweetheart?” you wait a moment before grabbing Sarah’s present and your purse and call back out to your dad “Yeah, I'm coming down in a sec.” You walk downstairs and meet your dad at the front door as you walk out into the truck getting in the passenger seat and shutting the door, as you make your way to the Miller house. 
As you arrive at the Miller house your dad pulls into the driveway and you get out first knocking on the door as your dads best friend Joel Miller, opens the door. His broad shoulders tensed when he saw you in the dress you wore. He looked you up and down before scratching his patchy salt and pepper beard and smiling at you. “Come on sweetheart.” his thick southern drawl, made your cheeks go pink as you smiled and nodded at him. Your dad hugged him and they chatted for a moment as you walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Sarah came down the stairs and smiled at you waving her hand as you smiled back. “Hey birthday girl!” you said with a smile and she grinned toothily. “Thank you.” she said, sweetly and grabbed a soda from the fridge. Sarah scrunched her eyebrows together as she looked into the fridge then looked over at her dad. “Dad, where is the cake?” she said with a disappointed frown as Joel ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, I musta’ forgot to grab it at the store.” he sighs and pinches in between his nose as he looks over at you. “Sweetheart, you wanna come with me to grab the cake?” You nod and look over at Joel as he opens the door for you and you run over to his truck. He turns to Sarah and tells her “I’ll be right back babygirl.” Sarah nods and goes back upstairs into her room waiting for her friends to arrive. 
You and Joel are in the car as he drives to the store and you stare out the passenger side window. He looks over at you with a little smile before turning back and keeping his eyes on the road. He reaches over to the glovebox and grabs a tape of Billy Joel, and puts it into the radio. You smile and look over at Joel who is mouthing the words to She’s always a Woman, as you hum the words too. He pulls into the parking lot of the grocery store as you both get out at the same time and you walk beside him. He looks over at you with a smile before speaking “So, how was college?” You hum and shrug before looking at him “It was alright, more partying then studying but overall it was fun.” You smile softly as a smirk tugs on his lips. He nods and you two walk into the grocery store to pick up the cake. His southern drawl made you weak to knees, heat pooling in your stomach as he spoke soft and gently to you. He went up to the bakery as you stood watching him and he thanked the lady at the bakery before paying and walking out with you. On the way home the comfortable silence of you two in the car comes to an end when you guys pull into the driveway of the house. Many people had arrived from around the neighborhood and Joel carried the cake inside holding the door open for you and you thanked him with a small smile. He went to put the cake in the fridge before going out back and you stood in the kitchen sipping a beer.
As Sarah blew out her candles people from around the house clapped and hollered before everyone went back to mingling and chatting. You grab another beer from the fridge after finishing your last one as you chat with some people from around the neighborhood before seeing Joel leaning against the wall sipping his beer. You decide to run off to the bathroom and take your laced panties off that were already damp at the thought of him before balling them up in your fist and making your way over to Joel. You smile as you approach him and he gives you a little smile and nod in return. “What are you doing standing here all by yourself cowboy? Shouldn’t you be with Sarah?” You smile softly, your panties still balled up in your fist. “Nah, she’s with her friends. I don't wanna bug her.” His southern drawl picks up and he looks at you. You hum and open his hand putting your dampened lacy panties in his hand as he looks at them, then looks at you. “All you are is trouble darlin’.” He shakes his head as you blush and look down at the floor before he grabs your arm and drags you upstairs into his room.
“You wanna act like a slut out there in front of your daddy and all those people?” He asks, shutting the door and looks at you with a sinister glint in his eye. You feel embarrassment creep onto the back of your neck as you glare at the floor avoiding his gaze. “Look at me when I’m talkin’ do ya.” He says in a more stern and demanding tone as you slightly look up at him. “You wanna act like a slut? Then I’m gonna treat you like one.” You bite the inside of your cheek feeling nervous and uneasy but wanting him and needing him. He pushes you onto the bed before slipping your dress off of your body and unclasping your bra. He groans at the sight of your naked body under him before kissing your neck down to your stomach. You whimper slightly as he moves down in between your thighs feeling how wet you are for him. “So needy for me darlin’.” You moan under his touch as he slips two fingers into you. You grip the sheet and whimper out his name. He goes in and out at a slow pace at first before he brings his tongue to her clit. She grips onto his hair and moans louder as he covers her mouth with his free hand. “Shhhh..darlin’ you want your daddy coming up here and seeing me fuck you.” She shakes her head and moans into his hand “Use your words baby.” He says in his thick southern drawl. You whine out but the vibration of his voice hits your clit which makes you whine. He slaps your clit as you whine out and roll your eyes back. “I told you to use your words babydoll.” His voice was more demanding as you tried to speak. “No, I-I don’t want anyone to find me like this.” You whine out and grind harder against his hand as he slaps your clit again. “Uh uh baby, you're being too needy.” You whine in protest as he clicks his tongue and shakes his head “Poor baby, so upset cause I’m not letting her cum huh?” You shake your head and moan mustering up some words “Daddy please let me cum on your fingers, i'll be good I promise.” You beg and practically plead with him to let you cum as he fucks you with his fingers harder you moan louder. “That’s it babydoll, cum for me baby, come on.” He says praising you and talking you through your orgasm as you come onto his fingers. 
He groans and takes his fingers to his mouth tasting how sweet you are as you lay there panting coming off of your high. He looks down at you and smirks “You taste so good darlin’.” He says with his heavy drawl that makes you instantly wet. He leans down and kisses you, exploring your mouth with his tongue as you can slightly taste yourself on him. You whine with a needy tone and tug at his belt as he clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “So needy…you need more already?” He says with a shake of his head before tugging at his belt and unzipping his jeans. “Tell me what you need baby, use your words.” he tilts his head and pulls out his cock stroking it and slapping it against your belly. “Need you to fill me up.” You whine as he smirks and his tip slips into your entrance as you whine. He pushes his length fully into you as you groan, squeezing your eyes shut as he shakes his head. “Look at me baby.” He grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him as you moan. You grip around him and your wall tightens against his cock as he groans. “So. Fuckin. Tight.” He says in between thrusts as you moan, your eyes never leaving his. “So big daddy, I-I can’t.” You whine with tears prickling into your eyes. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue pounding into you faster and faster “Yes you can babydoll.” He grunts as you moan digging your nails into his back. He hits that sweet spot inside you as you moan you “Fuck! Right there daddy!” He smirks and goes deeper hitting that spot over and over until you squeeze your eyes shut. “I'm gonna come Joel…” You moan as he grunts and nods “Come for me sweet girl, come all over my cock. Show me how good I fuck you.”  You dig your nails into his back and cum onto his cock with a loud moan. He nods and smirks “Good girl, baby. Such a good girl f’me.” He mutters his voice thick and heavy with lust and desire for you. 
He continued to fuck you rough and hard taking your nipples into his mouth and sucking on them as he unlatched with a ‘pop’ as she moaned and whined underneath him. “You're taking me so well darlin’.” He says between ragged breaths as you roll your eyes back. “Please come inside me.” you slur out as he shakes his head “Can’t do that baby.” he says gritting his teeth. “Wanna fill you up so badly darlin’ but I can’t.” He groaned. She whined out and shook her head “I'm o-on the pill.” He gritted his teeth and shook his head “Fuckin’ trouble.” he said with a groan as he grabbed your thighs and fucked into you harder as you moaned and screamed under him. “Gonna c-cum again.” You slur out as he nods “I'm so close baby. Come with me darlin’.” He pleaded; his tone filled with a mix of urgency and desperation. You nod and grip his forearms, clenching around his cock. He thrusted into her grunting a few times before coming inside of her with a loud groan and she came at the same time as him. They both pant as he slips out of her and kisses her forehead. “Such a good girl baby. Come on get dressed.” He said as he stood up catching his breath as you sat up. You put your dress back on and he put his clothes back on before he slipped your panties into his back pocket. “You're gonna ride home next to your daddy with my cum dripping out of you.” He says in his deep drawl, into your ear as you whimper. He slaps your bare ass as you both walk out the door, back downstairs like nothing happened.
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drdawnbreaker · 2 days ago
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𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐒𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 ☆ 𝐁.𝐁
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Synopsis: There was a demon on the loose, wreaking havoc in the small village that Father Barnes was a priest in. And he was going to stop at nothing to find who and where the creature was. Good thing he has a little helper to aid in his efforts.
Word count:  4.03k
Genre: 18+ Supernatural. Angst. Gore. Suggestive.
Pairing: Priest!Bucky x Female!Reader
Warnings: Swearing. Blood. Gore. Mentions of assult. Weapons. Demons and angels. Religion. Death. Making out. Sinning. Dirty thoughts. Thick flirtatious tension. Listen, I was deep in my feelings when I wrote this argh.
Note: I'm a sucker for destructive angsty priest with a morally grey streak, okay... sue me. I may or may not make a part two. Who knows.
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Bucky paced around his office, feeling himself grow more and more frustrated as the minutes progressed. He had been in this tiny, god-forsaken town for the past three months, searching far and wide, under every rock and pebble, and still, he was not any closer to finding this wandering demon. His agency had put him undercover as the new priest in the local church since sadly the old one had passed away from...sudden circumstances, which Bucky later found to be the said demon’s doing. He had hopes to find the creature and kill it before it hurt anyone else, but sadly, the challenge seemed bigger than he anticipated.
Placing his hands on the large spruce table, he takes in all his notes for the millionth time. The demon had a distinctive pattern, killing only men, twenty-five and over, locally born, ranging from all classes and backgrounds. But what did they all have in common? Why did the creature choose these men in particular? What was the trigger? Bucky felt like he was about to rip his hair out if he couldn’t figure it out by the end of the fourth month. He slammed his hand down onto the table in a fit of rage. Feeling the heat shift into his spine at the thought, the demon could be anyone. That he had passed by it without knowing. It could stand right in front of him, and he had already probably missed it.
“Father…” Your sweet velvet tone snapped him from his thoughts. You were tightly holding onto your bible with one hand against your chest, prayer beads lacing through your fingers while your other hand held the large door open. Your expression was filled with innocence and worry. “I heard noises. I… Are you okay?”
His heart skips at you, the sweet church girl, his face tainting a dusty pink ever so slightly. “Uh.. Yes. I'm just…working.” He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. He wouldn't admit it, but through these past months, he had fallen quite infatuated with you. Your smile began an addiction he sought out every day.
Every early morning, you came into the church alone to pray before skipping to his office to ask if he needed any help. You were so kind and caring in welcoming him into the community. Making sure he had everything he could ever need shortly after he arrived. You were the only good thing to seemingly come out of this dull, mopey town.
Looking at you cautiously step into the room, your eyes wandering to the decoration on the shelf that you had no doubt memorised already, an idea came flooding into his head. You were locally born, as far as he was aware. And you know of everyone, so maybe he needed to gather some intel from an inside source and who then, you, the sweet sunshine that cascaded over the grey hills of this village. “Actually… I would like to ask you a question.”
You stopped in your tracks to glance over at the man, showing no sign of any emotion. You were still, pondering even. Your eyes wide and curious but your lips held in a thin firm line. “Ask away, father.”
He almost lost the question from his shuttered tongue as he watched your mouth creep up into a loving smile. But alas, he cleared his throat, quickly looking down to graze over his notes. “I must confess something…”
Your body tingled in inquisitiveness, taking a step closer. “Yes…” you bit your lip slightly, fiddling with the beads in your tight grasp.
“I am not just a priest. I'm.. a hunter of sorts.” He lifted up a piece of paper for you to take in your free hand, letting you look it over. The paper was old, aged marking the edges and face. It was information about demonology. Words that seemed to pop out the most on the page were ‘dangerous’, ‘demon’, ‘sinful’. This thing... This demonic creature was in your home, killing the men of your village. One by one.
“...So it’s true. There is devil work lurking in the town.” You gulped your hands, shaking slightly, handing the piece of parchment back to Bucky. “Is anyone else aware of this?”
“No. You are the first and only person I’ll tell. This town doesn’t need to start going on witch hunts to try and find the creatures themselves.” Bucky pinched his nose, just imagining it gave him a headache. He let out a sigh, picking up a few more sheets to place in front of you, "This is all I know. I was sent here to capture and eradicate the beast that has been luring men into the outwest woods. But for the life of me, I can't find the connection to all of the victims other than them being male."
You looked over all the names, reading each autopsy report carefully. Your mind to a thought, no, it couldn't be.. could it? Looking up at Bucky, you gulped. "Umm, F-father."
"Please just call me Bucky." He grunted, tugging on his white band around his neck, feeling himself grow hot being frustrated and also being near you.
"I think I know the connection..." You picked up another piece of paper scanning while Bucky stared at you intensely, waiting for you to proceed. "The first five victims. They had been accused of misconduct prior to their deaths."
You pointed to one of the names showing Bucky, "For example, John Hart, he was reported for beating his wife." You pointed to another name further down the list, "Edward Smith's wife called assault on her husband, saying he raped his daughter, but there wasn't any such evidence."
You turned the paper back to yourself, raking your hand through your hair, "All of these men have either beaten, assaulted, and raped women or have been at least accused of it."
Bucky slumped down on his seat in defeat. A conflict shadowing in his view. All these men were pigs. That was the connection. "Great, so I have a demon playing god and smiting men for misdeeds...perfect." he placed his palm on his face, groaning in annoyance.
"What are you going to do now, fath—I mean Bucky?" You took a seat on one of the chairs opposite the deck, resting your bible down on your lap as you sat up pin straight.
Bucky clicked his tongue, glancing at you for a moment. He wasn't going to lie to himself. The way you said his name was music to his ears. A tone he would never get tired of. But he shook his thoughts to look at the papers littering his desk. "We're gonna catch a demon.”
-
Following the next few days, every evening you and Bucky would meet up to discuss the case while also slowly gathering materials for the trap. You had told Bucky any more information you’ve heard or if you heard of any more allegations about any of the town's men. Luckily no one had spread any new rumours about anyone which was good, leaving you both to focus on the task at hand. Capturing and then eradicating the demon. One particularly cold evening, you and Bucky had spent a little bit too long searching through town books, not taking any notice of the sun lying to rest. It was only when you started to feel the chill on your exposed arms that you gazed out the window, seeing nothing but pitch night.
“When did it become so late?” Your voice barely above a whisper. Bucky, who was only a few feet beside you, looked up from the book in his lap, suddenly feeling the coldness creep down his spine.
"We should call it a night." Bucky slammed the book a little too harshly, making you jump. He caught your reaction but decided it was best to bite his tongue. Instead, he stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, "I'll walk you out."
You took his hand gently, your soft skin making him gulp. The touch of you was electrifying, like a thousand little fireworks going off at once in his chest. His fingers wrapped tightly around yours, tugging you up off the library floor, but his tug was a little bit forceful, causing you to be pulled flushed against his chest. Your free hand coming up to brace yourself on his chest. "F-father."
"I told you to call me Bucky. Please. I'm just Bucky." He whispered his breath, pooling against your cheek. He watched the blush taint your cute features, your eyes widening as he inched closer. You smelt of firewood, vanilla, and a beautiful mixture of floral scents. You were intoxicating.
"Bucky... We are still in the church." You murmured, eyes slowly fluttering as you let him creep closer until his lips were a brush away. Your hand that landed on his chest lowered, feeling his strong muscles underneath his robes.
"I know..." He grunted through his nose. He snaked his hand from your wrist to your upper arm before taking place on the back of your neck while his other found place on your hip. "We aren't doing anything sinful."
"Hmm, but your thoughts would say otherwise." You smiled.
"You have no idea what I'm thinking about." He chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.
"I could take a guess.” You closed your eyes, sealing your lips on his, feeling an overwhelment of sparks crackling down your spine. Bucky grunted through his nose as the kiss became rougher. His fingers tangled into strands of hair on the nape of your neck while he swallowed every whimper and moan from you. It was like you were a deliciously wicked sweet treat.
Forbidden fruit he was not allowed to taste.
He couldn’t explain it but it was like you were the only thing that mattered the minute he met you. Like you were the puzzle piece he had been missing “B-Buck” You tried to pull away from him but his grip was firm on you, “We are going to…” You felt his tongue against your mouth, “Get..c-caught.” You couldn’t help but smile beneath the desperate kiss.
He finally pulled away, groaning in disappointment. “I know…” He sighed letting his grip loosen. Your hands snaked up his body gently before you pulled away entirely.
“Walk me out?” You suggested what he had asked moments prior. Bucky couldn’t help but feel himself grow in his slacks as he gazed upon your swollen lips and dishevelled hair. You were stunning in every possible way.
He walked with you to the front of the church, his hand grazing your own every time your arms swung a little too close to one another. Bucky felt like a schoolboy all over again, walking next to the girl he had a crush on.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Bucky smiled bittersweetly, turning to face you completely. You faced him also, shyly looking up at him with your cheeks tainted red.
"Tomorrow, Bucky ." You gave him a soft smile. Your fingers tangle with themselves as you patiently wait for him to say goodbye first.
"Well, sleep well. Goodnight..." The way your name fell from his lips made your heart thump as you nodded, leaning up to kiss his cheek gently. He swore he felt a tingle dance from where you place your lips on him. Walking off into the village towards your home, Bucky never took his eyes off you until you were out of sight.
"Lord..." He sighed, feeling himself breathing properly for the first time all day. He felt a twinge in his body at the loss of your scent, but alas, he had work to do if he wanted to catch this creature. But a part of him began to second guess himself. Yes, demons are bad, killing anything they want. But this demon. It had a reason. And a stupidly good one for that matter.
It annoyed him at the confliction. All demons are bad. Right? They lust for blood and chaos. Nothing more, nothing less. As he stepped back into the large church entrance, his mind spun from all the thoughts. Something was wrong with this whole thing. Something he had missed, maybe? Pinching his nose, he felt lightheaded. His fingers danced around his nostrils, suddenly gasping. "Blood?"
Looking up to the aisle in the middle of the church, he saw the moon start to pool into the room through the round window by the altar. And then, as he took another step, his mind snapped. His eyes clouded over with black, and he fell towards the floor.
He was out like a light.
When Bucky awoke, he could feel the stiffness in his neck. He must have been out a while. Groaning, he held his head as he slowly sat up. But what caught him off guard was he wasn't sitting where he fell. He had moved? Looking around his fuzzy eyes, he noticed he was right on the altar, leaning against the lectern.
Looking around, he tries to get his bearings. Noticing the moon has reached its peak, shining through the top window, indicating it was almost midnight. He had been passed out for almost two or three hours give or take. But what caught his attention was the overwhelming smell of iron. He touched the top of his lip, feeling the blood from his nose had dried. But this blood smelt fresh like it was right behind him...
In horror, he turned his head to see the gruesome sight that anchored his mind in dread—a lifeless man strung up on the cross behind him, the body pallid and still. A choked gasp escaped him, slamming his hand over his mouth as the image in front of him flooded his conscience. He went to move, but that was when he noticed his legs were bound. He struggled against him, confusion spiralling into terror. What was going on?
Just then, the church doors creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside. It was you, but the tender girl he had come to love now had an aura that chilled him to the bone. Her once bright eyes were shadowed, and your skin was tainted in a light shade of pink. "Bucky!!"
You ran over to him. This is when he could finally see you properly in the moonlight. Little horns poked from the top of your head. "Bucky. I thought... You're okay." You sighed, your voice sounding different. It was smoother, seductive almost, lacing with an otherworldly quality.
"What is this? What’s happened?” he stammered, heart pounding painfully in his chest. You were a demon. A lust demon to be exact. He'd never met a succubus in real life before, but he knew what they looked like through details in his demonology.
"I don't know. I got a letter saying you were hurt and needed my help." Your voice cracked as you reached for his bonds, but when your skin touched them, it stung, burning your skin. They were cursed? "W-who did this?"
"I could ask you that." Bucky’s bitterness caught you off guard.
"W-what do..." You looked down and saw your hands were shaded in pink, and in a flash, you ran for the silverware on the table seeing your distorted reflection. "Y-you can see me..."
"Yes.." Bucky replied coldly and conflicted. How could you, of all people be a creature of the damned.
"Bucky, listen, please. I'm not the demon you've been trying to catch, I swear." You kneeled back down to him, but he shuffled away, making your heart flinch. "I've watched you since the moment you came into this town. Your love, your promises, and your weakness. You want to save things. Not kill them. You are caring. That is how I fell in love with you.”
"Love? Demons can not do such things." Bucky’s voice felt like venom on your skin, making tears pool in your eyes.
"They...I can. I did. You changed that for me."
“No, I—I thought you were human,” he gasped, memories of laughter and warmth filling his mind, only to be replaced by dread. He missed so many signs. From the smell of you to the way you had with words. You were using him.
"Bucky, I wasn't, I swear to you. I might be a monster, but I've never hurt anyone." You interrupted his thoughts, shuffling closer, your presence both magnetic and terrifying to Bucky. "Please, Bucky, you have to believe me."
Bucky wrestled with his emotions as the reality of your true nature engulfed him. Were the demon he had been searching for, cleverly disguised and lurking in the heart of the town, feeding on the very compassion and affection he thought in no way could lead to sin? Or were you telling the truth? Were you just an innocent creature caught in the crossfire?
Looking at you, he can see the swirls of pink and crimson mixing with your human eye colour. The sweetness he fell for was still there. "I believe you."
You jumped into his arms, tears spilling down your hit cheeks as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
As the church pulsed with an otherworldly energy, Bucky realised he had known he made a daring choice—not to fight or falter but to embrace the truth of who he was, who you were. Life wasn't all black and white. There were beautiful shades of grey that he never took the moment to gaze upon before. He took a deep breath, taking in your sweet familiar scent before pulling you up by your chin to stare into the eyes of the creature he had fallen in love with.
"I was wrong about you. I'm sorry." He declared, a newfound resolve gripping his heart as he smiled at you. But before you could say anything, a new voice. A deeper one echoed in the cold eerie church.
“No, Father. You are wrong. But not for what you think.” The man's voice was a cruel tone, dark and chilling. Both of you snapped your gaze to him, seeing he was not alone. Two other men were trailing close behind him. "And here I thought you wouldn't succumb to her charms..." His face was finally revealed in the light. "My best hunter."
"Rumlow?" Bucky’s voice was laced with confusion. His mentor? "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Bucky. For an expert hunter, you never really got the wit down, did you?" The man chuckled, making the other two follow suit like some perfect chimed robots. Rumlow's gaze glances at the hanging corpse, still hammered into the cross. He couldn't help but click his tongue.
"You know it almost pained me to kill these men. But desperate times called for desperate measures." The older man cracked his knuckles as he paced slightly. You shuffled closer to Bucky, cuddling desperately next to him. For the first time in all your life, you felt fear.
With all Bucky’s strength, he pushed against the ropes, his spirit igniting in defiance. In this moment of battle between light and dark, he defied the very nature of the demon that he loves and found the depths of the confrontation. He felt a flicker of the love he had for you, now intertwined with anger and betrayal from his mentor, another he had loved or hated in a way. Whatever you were, he no longer cared. No, all he wanted was you safe. Little did you know, you could hear Bucky’s thoughts loud and clear, pooling into your brain like a tidal.
"We've been looking for her for years. Laying traps, but no matter what we did, she wouldn't take the bait. That was until we found out she wasn't like other demons..."
Without dropping your eyes from the man, you placed your hand just over the bounds on Bucky. You began to focus on the ropes, whispering an incantation in your head over and over.
"She's also a witch." Rumlow snarked, snapping his fingers. One of the men quickly made his way over to you while the other seemingly grabbed out a book from the satchel that hung over his shoulder.
"B-Bucky. JAMES!!" The man grabbed you by the horns, yanking you backwards before dragging you towards Rumlow. You cried out, trashing against his hold. Bucky went to stand, but the bounds were still tight, and no matter how many times he tried to grab the rope, it burnt him.
"Don't you fucking touch her!" Bucky barked.
"Awe, Bucky. You really are a stupid little boy." Rumlow grabbed the book from his henchman, flicking through the pages with a cynical smile. "Out of everything you could have done. Falling for a beast was not what I thought you'd do."
"She's not a beast!!" Bucky could feel a tear break in his eyes as he watched you weep in pain as the grip on your sensitive horns tightened. Your claws scratch at the man's hands, but he doesn't move as if he wasn't affected by his flesh being ripped by your sharp nails.
"Well, this was all fun and all. But I think we should call it a night. I gotta thank you, though, Barnes. Without you, we would have never caught her." Rumlow began reading a page from the book aloud. The enchantment caught your attention, making you do as much as you possibly could to look over at Bucky.
Covered in blood, tears staining his sharp features. Your heart broke as you hiccuped, "I'm sorry, Bucky. I...I love you." It might have been too early to say it, but you didn't know when you'd ever be able to say it again.
"No no no no. Please. I love you too." He grabbed his bounds, his hand sizzling against the cursed rope, "Brock, don't do this. She's not a monster... you can't."
Rumlow didn't stop his incantation as the floor began to shake, and the night started to stir. That's when the man behind Rumlow stepped forward with a thick leather band in his hand. The man that held you tilted your head to the side, giving access for the man to click the collar in place. That was when Bucky knew what Rumlow was doing to you. He was binding you.
"I'll find you..." Your name rang in the air as Bucky cried, "I'll find you and break you free."
It was your turn to cry, hearing his thoughts. There was no doubt in his mind, nothing but determination and honesty in his words. "I'll wait for you."
The sound of the book being slammed closed reverberated against the walls. Yours and Bucky’s eyes snapped back to Rumlow seeing him pull out a gun, "You shouldn’t have said that, Barnes." His voice was cold, with his eyes empty.
Silence fell as the fire from a gunshot rang in your ears. Blood spilled out of Bucky’s mouth seconds later as he choked it all over the altar. You screamed, a noise so loud it would shatter the hearts in a mile radius. The floor beneath you shook, cracking before opening. The last thing you could see before the floor swallowed you whole was your lover, dying on the doorstep of the religion he so desperately trusted.
And Bucky..... he laid on his back, the wound in his chest spluttering the crimson liquid into the carpet staining and ruining the fabric. He could see the moon above him. Feeling the light raze on his skin. His eyes closed for a moment, taking in the tingling feeling. There was no more pain. Sadness washed away with every drop of blood that fell onto the stairs, and then he whispered out a stutter before taking his last breath.
"Forgive me, lord... I have sinned.”
© DrDawnBreaker. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.
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beef-brisket · 3 days ago
Text
Adam: Okay! I might... nap. While you're gone.
Lucifer blinked and glanced at Charlie, who shrugged: Oh- uh. That's fine, bud. If you want to nap, you can.
G!Adam: He's up to something~.
Shut up.
Charlie: Yeah! Completely fine!
Adam dmiled: We can still hang out, though Luci!
Lucifer: I know, bud. Come on, how about you show me your plants?
The two royals smiled at how excited Adam got and how quickly he stood from the table and grabbed Lucifer's hand.
Adam: Sure! Charlie got them for me! Come on, Luci!
The princess moved away as Adam dragged Lucifer out of the room. She sighed once they were gone, she felt guilty for not fighting for Adam to have free will, but there was a part of her that was scared. She's only just getting used to THIS Adam, if the old one came back... she wasn't sure she'd know how to deal with him.
He did hurt her- and it's taken a lot of willpower to not flinch whenever Adam gets close.
Charlie sighs and starts cleaning up the kitchen. She just hopes this meeting with Heaven goes well. But she's not so confident.
-
Lucifer smiled and tried to listen as Adam rattled off the different plans, although that other Adam was watching him. Staring. It was surprisingly more unsettling that he wasn't saying anything.
Adam: And this is-!
The king sighed when his pocket started buzzing. That's his alarm for the meeting with Heaven.
Lucifer put his hand on Adam's shoulder. The first man stopped and looked at him: I've got to go, bud. But I won't be long.
Adam: Okay, Lu! I'm going to sleep!
Lucifer chuckled: Good idea. Have a good sleep, and I'll see you when I get back, alright?
The first man nodded and waved as Lucifer teleported out of the room. As soon as he was, he was gone, Adam quickly locked the door, something Angel told him about, and went to his window.
He has to find Lilith. She wouldn't have gone far, surely. And if she had... Adam will accept that she's gone. But, she might need help!
Swiftly, Adam climbed out of his window and quickly looked around- this place was amazing! Lilith would love this place! She always liked the darker colours.
Looking ahead, Adam looked towards Pentagram City, its lights were like nothing he's ever seen before!
Once he got Lilith back, he was sure Lucifer would be happier. He smiled, thinking of it, and started walking off towards the city.
-
Taking his seat in the designated meeting room, Lucifer sighed, preparing himself for whatever bullshit was to come.
Lucifer: Sera...
With a flash of light, the tall Seraphim was standing before him: Lucifer. Thank you for promptly agreeing to this meeting.
Lucifer glared: I can't say I'm not curious... why is this meeting about Adam's death?
In Your Head
Lucifer sighed as he held the guitar that he took from the battlefield. It was Adams guitar and aside from a few scratches it looked like it was in perfect condition.
Lucifer: I'm going to miss you old friend.
Though, was friend the right word? Adam was so much more than a friend to Lucifer.
Watching him get stabbed like that had been very hard.
Was it though?
Lucifer snapped his head up, eyes wide as he looked at the angel he thought to be long dead, his helmet gone and golden blood staining his robe.
Lucifer: A-Adam? What, how are you here!?
Adam smiled at him and it was too sweet for the Adam of today the one that he turned into. But not the Adam he knew in Eden.
Adam: Oh come on Luci, you're smarter than that. No one comes back from an angelic blade to the heart. Thanks for that by the way.
That nickname sliced through his core, he hadn't heard it in so long he almost forgot that's what Adam used to call him.
Lucifer: You're not real are you?
Adam: Bingo baby! Awww, it's actually sweet. You miss me so much that I actually take up space in that head of yours.
Lucifer: Why are you so..... Nice? But look like that?
Adam shrugged and moved to sit down beside him: Probably because you don't really remember what I looked like in Eden, but more how I acted. So you just kinda...... Married the past with the present. I don't know boo, it's your mind.
Lucifer felt Adam touch his hair as if to tuck it behind his ear, but since he wasn't real the hand just went right through him.
Lucifer: I don't get it, you weren't like this in Eden.
Adam: Maybe I'm a version you've always wanted.
That made sense in a way.
Lucifer: Why would I want a polite slightly flirty version of you?
Adam smiled gently and leaned in: Come on Luci, you know why. Stop lying to yourself.~
His breath hitched in his throat, sure he had always thought about what could have been between them but...... It was always just a fantasy.
Adam: A fantasy you could have made real.~
Lucifer: You didn't want me.
Adam: How would you know? You never asked or tried. You could have had me all to yourself.
Lucifer: I could have?
Adam: Yeah. But now you never will.
@fanofstuff01 @beef-brisket
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kkuras-gamer-gf · 21 hours ago
Text
Want a hit? | Daniela avanzini
Sorry ite so late, i had a series of unfortunate events but things have finally settled.
Smut. Not a series in that its one continuous story but a universe where I'll write one shots based on. Name ideas for said universe?
College frat boy Drug dealer!dani, g!p dani, fuckboy futch Dani, blowjob, her dick is huge, head pusher. Short but i wanted to post this finally.
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It had been while since you last went to a party, the crowded overly loud spaces overwhelming. But tonight your friend Manon was insistent that you came with her, convinced you'd have a good time if you just came, so you did. Mostly to prove her wrong and say you told her so.
As soon as you walk up your skull vibrates to the beat of whatever song was blasting, the smell was a mix of weed, alcohol and sweat from the crowded group of college students dancing.
According to Manon, the house belonged to the local drug dealer Dani and was a frat house of her and all of her friends, throwing parties every weekend with all the drugs and alcohol you can think of.
You didn't know Dani personally, sure you smoked some of the weed Manon got from her, you had found the latina to be somewhat of a fuckboy after hearing many stories around campus about her plethora of partners.
Admittedly the details of the stories intrigued you, you wondered if it was all true. If she really was THAT good in bed, if the biggest dick in school rumors were accurate. So when you walk in your eyes immediately look around for her, even if you would never approach her yourself in a million years
"I'm gonna find Sophia." Manon says, breaking your focus from the crowd and rushing to find said situationship.
Looking around as you take a deep breath, your eyes settle on the upstairs which didn't have many people. Grabbing a drink before heading up the stairs and finding a quiet room, when you finally find an unlocked door you enter a dark room with a couch and a tv, lit by a lamp by the couch.
"Hey." A voice startles you, a familiar one that makes your heart beat a bit faster especially when you look up to her. It's Dani. You now notice she's sitting at a table in the corner, a scale and weed neatly packed into bags.
Baggy jeans hang on her hips showing off the band of her luxury boxers (and a noticeable bulge that your try to ignore), an t shirt loosely on and a backwards hat adorning her head.
"Oh- hi." You get out, flustered.
"You know, it's usually off limits up here for parties." As she takes a drag from the blunt between her fingers, eyes raking over you and if you didn't know any better you'd think she's checking you out.
"Oh, um I'm sorry. I didn't know, i just-." A slight panic at the idea of her being upset with you, turning to reach for the door again.
"Relax Mami. I can make an exception." You can hear the smirk in her voice.
You face flushes at the name, the way it came out of her mouth turned you on to an embarrassing degree.
Opening and closing your mouth not knowing what to say, you land on a meak "Okay.", fingers fidgeting as you try to look at anything but her smirk, and the way her eyes stare at you, deciding to sit on the couch.
"Not having fun?" She teases, standing and walking towards you.
"Yeah. I mean no, i am. Having fun." You mentally curse yourself, hearing a chuckle from the girl.
"You're cute. And a liar" The teasing tone getting louder as she sits on the couch next to you.
"I hate parties." You confess, "No offense."
"Well you've never experienced one of mine." The look in her eyes a bit mischievous. "Want a hit?" She asks, holding the blunt towards you.
You reach a hesitant hand, grabbing it and putting it between your lips. You can feel her eyes boring into you the whole time, watching ypur fingers move to your lips, a cocky smile on the whole time.
Though an experienced smoker, your lungs betray you making you cough
"Good?"
"Me or the weed?" You couldn't tell if she was worried about you or wanted a review of her supply.
"Both?" She laughs.
"Good. I feel good." You get a little hazy, grabbing the blunt back when her hand stretches towards you.
"I've seen you around campus, you're Manon's friend right?"
"That's me."
"You have a name?"
"Y/n."
"I'm Dani."
You laugh at her introduction as if she's not the campus drug dealer and fuckboy known by everyone, making her look at you with a confused smile.
"I know. I think everyone knows you. People talk." You get more comfortable as the weed takes over, an ease falling over you.
"Yeah? What do they say?"
"Oh just that you had a good supply." You regret bringing it up, not wanting to admit that your head is stuck on how big her dick is or how good she would fuck you if you asked.
"Really? That's it?" She asks, amused, she knows the people things say about her.
"Yeah."
"Come on Mami, tell me the truth." The energy changes suddenly, Dani's eyes darkening a bit. You know she knows, about your crush you have from afar, maybe its the weed but you stopped caring.
"I heard you're a fuckboy, the rumor is that you don't disappoint. That you can prove yourself in bed."
"What else?"
"That you're...bigger than average." You mumble.
"Speak up baby."
You knew she heard you, Dani couldn't help but want to hear you say it again. The bulge growing between her legs, restraining against her jeans.
"That you're bigger than average." You repeat louder.
"Would you believe me if i said it was true?" You hardly notice Dani get closer as she speaks.
"No" You stare right back at her now, you dont know what comes over you, challenging her obviously confident and dominant personality.
"No?"
"I'm a big believer in evidence."
The smirk grows on the blondes face, hands going to the button on her pants as she glances around. Unbuttoning and pulling down the zipper, your heart is beating so fast you think it'll stop that is until she pulls her jeans boxer down just enough to reveal her cock.
And no it wasn't like the rumors, it was bigger than that. At least 9 inches, thick and heavily veined, a warmth floods between your thighs. You can't help but drop your jaw at the sight, your eyes flickering between her eyes and her cock.
She was hard, her length landing at her belly button, liquid leaks from the red tip, when you finally fully look at her eyes she nods her head to her cock a silent plea to take care of her.
You can't help but reach your hand out, wrapping your fingers around her, instantly hearing a sigh come from her lips. It was kind of pathetic how much it turned you on when you noticed how little of her cock was covered by your hand, suddenly you worried you couldn't handle her.
"What? Too big for you?" If it were anyone else the smirk on her face would disgust you, but it made her even more attractive, but you dimiss her with a shake of your head
Hesitantly you move your hand, easily gliding up and down as you collect the pre-cum dripping down. A series of swears leaves the blondes mouth and you quickens the pace.
After a second, you give in to what you know she want, leaning down as your tongue darts out to lick a stripe from her base to the tip before wrapping your lips around it.
"Fuck." Dani groans, a hand immediately tangling in your hair and keeping your head in place.
Taking more of her into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, only a third in and you feel full. The hand on your head pushes slightly, another couple inches filling your throat, only about halfway through. You gag at the suddenly, eyes starting to water.
"That's it baby. Take it all."
Her hand pushes down once again while her hips thrust upwards, forcing the rest down your throat, your nose hitting her skin as she holds you there. Her fingers tightening and pulling at your hair causing you to moan around her length.
"Good girl. Taking my cock so good." The Latinas hips lazily thrust into your mouth.
The sounds in the room were filthy, the sound of your mouth around her gagging as you take her length, wet sounds accompanying sloppy upwards thrusts that hit the back of your throat with every push.
"You're making such a fucking mess." The Latina breathlessly says, staring at the saliva dripping off your chin onto her boxers.
You weren't even doing any working at this point, simply a something foe her to use, her hips mindlessly thrusting into your mouth, eager for a release.
"Fuck" a groan leaves her lips as her pace gets faster but sloppily, she was close, "can i cum in your mouth baby?"
Nodding to the best of your ability, taking her a bit deeper in the process, tears now running down your face and mixing with your drool.
"S-shit" Her hips stuttering as moans leave her mouth, her hand tightens in your hair causing your scalp to sting, pushing your head so your nose stays pressed to her stomach while her cum fills your throat and leaking out onto your chin.
It takes her a bit before she pulls out, some of the liquid spilling before she collects it with her thumb pushing it back into your mouth.
"Swallow it all."
"Mm" A moan involuntarily leaving your as your tongue swirls her finger.
"Good girl."
Out the corner of your eye you see her pulling up her pants as your catch your breath.
"Does this mean i can get a discount?" You joke.
"I'll consider it." A grin forming on her face as she buttons her pants, standing to go to the table and grabbing a ziploc and extending it out, "on me. But full price next time." She jokes.
"Thanks." You grab it, finger tips brushing against hers, though you had just given her a blowjob it somehow felt more intimate. Silence overtakes you as you fiddle with the bag, "um, i should find Manon. Don't want her getting in trouble." You walk and open the door.
"No number?" She calls out after you.
"Don't you like a challenge?" You throw back at her as you head down the stairs, the blonde leaning in the doorway to watch you a smirk adorning her face.
You both knew this wouldnt be the last you saw of each other.
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ambiguous-avery · 3 days ago
Text
When It Refused To Rain
Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 917
Summary: The sky wouldn’t cry and neither would Dean. That was the deal Dean made with himself after everything. After losing Bobby. But when you’re hurt on a hunt, the weight of what he almost lost hits harder than what’s already gone.
Tags/Warnings: Dealing with grief, poor coping mechanisms, hurt/comfort, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men
A/N: My submission for @impala-dreamer’s Through His Eyes challenge! My prompt was the title "When It Refused To Rain." I’m so awful with summaries, my apologies, and I was a dumb-dumb and didn’t realize this challenge had a deadline, so this is me hastily putting my idea together.
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The sky had been threatening to rain for three damn days. The entire duration of the last case. Every time he glanced out the window, Dean expected to see it. Heavy raindrops breaking on the window. Dark clouds opening up and drenching the earth. But instead, they just lingered. Grey and swollen and looming over everything like a loaded gun just waiting to go off. 
Just like him.
You were stretched out on the couch behind him, breaths shallow and eyes screwed shut in a perpetual grimace. The blood – your blood – had been washed down the drain hours ago, but he still felt like he could feel it. Could feel the way it pooled in the creases of his hands and clung to his skin no matter how many times he scrubbed them.
You shouldn’t have gone in alone, but that's beside the point. The point was that you almost didn’t make it back out.
And he couldn’t bear to lose you. Not you, too.
“You gonna keep staring out the window all night?” you asked, your voice soft and raw.
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Not when he was hanging on by a breath. Instead, he brought the bottle to his lips, the whiskey burning its way down his throat and falling into the abyss inside him where his panic lived. If he turned around, if he faced you, he knew he would break.
“You could keep me company. Or... just say something. Anything.”
He closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face like the motion alone would be enough to calm every emotion running through him. His hand settled onto the windowsill, grounding him.
“You shouldn’t have gone in alone,” he finally managed, grinding his teeth together as he carefully tucked everything away. He would be fine. He was always fine.
“I had to. That thing was about to kill–”
“You could’ve died!” His words came out too sharp. Too loud. Too angry. He turned to look at you just in time to catch the shock in your expression. You blinked, taken aback, then blinked again as if holding back tears.
And God that nearly undid him.
You shifted slightly, grimacing as you moved to sit up.
“I didn’t, though. I’m still right here.”
Yeah. Barely. And he wasn’t sure what he would do if you weren’t. Dean finally stepped away from the window and sank down onto the floor next to the couch, his back to you. The whiskey sloshed around in the bottle, and the glass clinked against the floor. He didn’t look at you. Couldn’t look at you.
“I keep waiting for it to rain,” he murmured after a long pause. You made a soft noise of acknowledgement. “Feels like it should, right? Like the sky’s about to let loose. It has to.” You remained silent, just listening to him. You’re so good at that. Listening to him and hearing him ramble about the things he can’t always find the words for. “I thought when it finally did, I would feel like I could breathe again. Like maybe the world was mourning him too.”
He turned to look at you finally.
“Cause then maybe I could too.”
The look you gave him said everything. Gentle. Hurt. Loving. He didn’t deserve that look. Not after everything he’s put you through. All the yelling and arguing and stubbornness. He deserved your anger. Your wrath. The moment when you decided that he wasn’t worth all the heartache. But you still gave him that look. The one that said he was everything in the world you had ever wanted.
You reached a hand out to him, your fingers gently brushing along the shoulder of his jacket, and he covered your hand with his. You were warm. You were always warm. And you always shared that warmth with him.
“You don’t have to wait for the rain, Dean.” Your voice was quiet but steady, grounding him like a rock in the hurricane that was his grief. “You can let go if you need to.”
He squeezed your hand, harder than he meant to, but you didn't pull away. You never did.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, the words scraping his throat raw. "Not after–" He couldn't finish. Couldn't say his name.
The silence stretched between you, filled with all the things he couldn't say. All the grief he couldn't let himself feel because if he started, he might never stop.
"Come here," you murmured, tugging at his hand.
Dean hesitated, then shifted to face you fully. His eyes stung. His throat constricted. He didn’t let the tears fall, but he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours like he was hanging on a precipice and you were the only thing keeping him from falling.
The kiss happened before he could stop it. Soft at first, like an apology, then deeper, more urgent. Like everything he had been holding back was rushing out of him all at once.
And you’re kissing him as if he meant the world. As if you truly wanted him. As if his fractures weren’t the kind that people would run from. Dean had never been good with emotions. His expertise was in slamming doors and burning corpses. But here you were, quivering against him, your fingers tangled in the fabric of his flannel like he was your anchor instead of the other way around.
Outside, the sky never shattered. The storm never broke.
But something inside of him did.
---
Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!
Dean taglist: @jollyhunter @aylacavebear @globetrotter28 @bettystonewell @supernotnatural2005 @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @maddie0101 @sir-thisisadndserver @colours-of-thewind @kiddieclaws @mostlymarvelgirl @rurwu @imalapdog @losers-clvb @zyra-7 @ladykitana90
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kaliforniahigh · 3 days ago
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Hello! I come with angst ideas for Ex Husband!Noah.
So.
For context they’re still married at this point.
Ezra’s school is putting on a show (like an end of the school year or a Christmas show?) and he’s like SUUUPER excited about it.
He’s been practicing his lines every day. He only has a small part but he doesn’t care.
Noah promises he’s going to be there but he’s not home yet when it’s time to leave to head to the school to watch it.
You take your seat and there’s an empty one beside you.
The show starts and Noah still isn’t there.
You can’t help but notice the devastation in Ezra’s face that’s mixed with hope as he watches the door at the back just in case he comes in.
You confront Noah when you’re home.
LOVE YOU! And love this au!
Wow, you really came through with this angst!!! I love this so much. I feel like even though Noah is a great dad, sometimes, parents just slip and end up doing not nice things. I'd say this is definitely something that haunts Noah to this day. Especially because he's had to miss more school plays and events due to his job.
Anyway, here's a little something about how this went down when they were still married. Thanks agains for sending this in <3 Love ya!!!!
Warnings: me not knowing how school plays work lol angst, exwife is a little angry, but things end as well as they can.
WC: 2.5k words. (not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes!)
Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader masterlist.
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You were honestly grateful Ezra's school play was happening today. Even though you loved how excited and happy he was about it, getting to hear a play by play on how theater practice is going kind of took a toll on you. You'd never tell him this, though, so you'd just let the kid ramble on for hours on end.
"And that's because he's the tree. Which is unmovable and has no lines. Imagine if he gets a main role one day", Noah pointed out once, as you were laying in bed at the end of the day.
"At least he's dedicated. Main role or not", you said. "I bet he's gonna be the best unmovable tree, though"
"Of course he is. He's my son and we don't do things half assed", you snorted at this because it's absolutely true. Noah went above and beyond even for things with little significance at the and of the day, and you expected your son to be no different.
Right now, you were getting ready to attend the school play. You had dropped off Ezra early at school, so him, the other kids, and the teachers could get everything ready on time, and make sure all the kids were set.
You had agreed with Noah to meet him there, since he had band practice and it would run a little bit late and he wouldn't have time to come home and get ready with you.
It was nearing 6pm and you texted him saying you'd leave in about twenty minutes, and you'd save him a seat beside you for when he arrived.
When you got no answer, you thought it was odd, but didn't dwell on it too much. He must be busy at the moment and couldn't check his phone.
You grabbed your stuff and headed out, texting him on the way to the school once again.
Still no answer.
You waited until you were parked at the school parking lot to call him, instead of texting, but it just went straight to voicemail. You decided to leave him a message.
"Hey, just wanted to let you know I'm already here. Are you on your way? Text me when you can"
Hanging up the phone, you had a strange feeling pooling in your belly, but you pushed it aside. He was gonna be here. He had to be here. Ezra was talking about this school play for weeks, there's no way Noah wouldn't be here for it.
Locking your car, you made your way to the school theater. Finding a place towards the front, you sat down and placed your bag on the seat beside you.
The play would start in about forty minutes, and during that time, you guess you've called Noah more than ten times. At this point, you were getting agitated, a nervousness settled deep in your stomach, and you started to get antsy.
When the lights dimmed, and the music started to play, it dawned on you. Noah wasn't coming.
Trying one more time, and still without success, you decided you wouldn't call him again.
Your mind went a hundred miles a minute, thinking about all of the things that could've happened that would prevent Noah from being here. You even though about the worst case scenarios, but brushed it off as soon as it came to your mind. Bad new traveled fast, and if something had happened to him, you'd surely know by now.
Ezra came into play, his little face poking through a hole in the tree costume, and you smiled when he spotted you in the crowd. You could see his face turn into a frown though, when he noticed his father was not sitting beside you. You just waved at him, trying to act nonchalant.
Throughout the play, you'd be lying to say you were paying attention. You didn't know if you felt anger, concern or disappointment. You guess it was a mixture of all three.
About thirty minutes into the play, you turned your phone brightness all the way down, so people wouldn't notice you on your phone, and decided to text Ruffilo.
You: Hey, Nick. You know where Noah is?
You waited a few minutes for his replay. Heart beating fast.
Ruff: Hey, Y/N.
Ruff: Yeah, we're hanging at Matt's place. I think Noah's phone is dead, though.
Ruff: You wanna talk to him?
You stared at the text messages in complete disbelief. He was hanging at Matt's place? Hanging with his buddies instead of being here for his son?
You'd love to know what excuse he'd come up with.
You: Not really. Just let him know he's missing his son's school play.
You locked your phone, and you could tell the play was about to wrap up, as the main characters delivered the last lines, and in a couple of minutes, everyone was standing up and clapping, as the kids bowed on stage.
You felt your phone vibrate and looked at the screen.
Ruff: Shit.
Shit indeed, you thought to yourself, as you sat down once again to wait for Ezra to come and find you. He just had to take his costume off and change back into his clothes.
It didn't take long before he appeared on the side of the stage, one of the teachers holding his hand as he looked for you. Standing up, you waved, and he came walking towards you as soon as he spot you.
He came walking. Not running, as you expected.
"Where's daddy?", he asked you, as you crouched down to his level. He had a deep frown on his face.
"Hi, baby", you greeted him, smoothing his hair that was growing to be long like his father's. "Daddy got sick, sweetheart. He couldn't be here. I'm sorry"
You hated lying to Ezra, and you didn't do it often at all, if ever. But, this time, you guess it would be better to not tell him the truth, instead of saying his father completely forgot about his school play.
"What does daddy have?", Ezra asked.
"I think it's just a stomach bug, buddy. He'll be fine soon, don't worry", you reassured him, but his demeanor didn't change, or get better.
"Can we go home? I'm tired", he said, reaching his arms up for you, and you picked him up. You couldn't help but notice he was getting too big for you to carry him, and you'd soon had to stop.
"Of course we can", you said, threading your fingers through his hair, as he laid his head down on your shoulder.
You wanted to cry. You hated seeing your son sad.
Walking with him to the parking lot, a bunch of parents were walking to their own cars with their kids, and you greeted some of them on the way, recognizing them as parents from Ezra's class.
Strapping him in his booster seat, you got in the driver's seat yourself and started the drive home.
Observing him through the inside rearview mirror, you noticed that halfway home, Ezra dozed off and took a nap.
There's no way he'd eat something, or take a bath, before going to bed today.
Arriving home, you took him in your arms once again, struggling with the key to the door a little, but finally able to get it open. You walked with him to his bedroom, setting him on his bed, where he sat, rubbing his eyes and looking extra sleepy.
"You wanna eat something?", you asked, and he shook his head no. "A warm bath?", he shook his head no once again. "Ok, then, I know you're tired, so tonight, you can go straight to bed"
Walking towards his dresser, you opened the pajama drawer.
"You want the dinosaur, or the robots pajama?"
"Dinosaur"
You nodded and grabbed the dinosaur pajama and helped him into them, and in no time, he was snuggled under the blanket. You waited a few minutes, until his breaths evened out and you were sure he had fallen asleep.
While you waited, you heard the front door open, so you got up from your spot on the bed, closed the door behind you, and made your way to the living room.
You stopped in your tracks when you spotted Noah locking the door behind him. Turning around to face you, you swear you've never seen a guiltier face in you entire life.
"Y/N...", he started, but you cut him off. Much to his dismay, you had a lot of time to simmer in your anger on the drive back home.
"I honestly don't even wanna look at you right now. Let alone hear whatever stupid excuse you're gonna come up with", you told him, coldness and a tinge of anger seeping into your voice. He can tell you're holding back on him.
"I don't have an excuse", he said, looking down, and when he looked back at you, you could see his watery eyes reflecting in the lights coming from outside the window.
"I don't know if that's better or worse", you pointed out.
"I just", he said, taking a long breath. "I just forgot. I don't know what happened, but I just forgot"
You don't know if you should feel any better about his honesty and the fact that he didn't try to come up with a false reason for not being there.
"You forgot about the play he's been telling us about for the past, I don't know, month?", you question him, incredulous.
"I just forgot, ok? I don't know what else to say", he told you, visibly getting frustrated at the situation and at himself.
"You don't get to be fucking angry and pissy here, alright?", you say, trying not to raise your voice, pointing a finger at him. "You're lucky I'm even giving you the time of day so you can explain yourself"
You don't give him a chance to reply, as you start to make your way to the kitchen to grab your nightly glass of water. You can hear him trailing behind you, though.
"I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to forget about it", his voice was meek and a little shaky.
"It's not me you should be apologizing for. It's your son", you grab your glass of water and start to make your way to your shared bedroom, when you stop in your tracks and turn back to him. "I told him you were sick. So, when he asks, just go with the story"
This time, you disappear down the hallway to your bedroom.
You go through you nighttime routine and Noah doesn't come in the bathroom, or in the bedroom. He knows to give you some space and time when you're angry. Especially when you're angry at him.
You turn off the lamp and slip under the blankets, but sleep doesn't find you so easily. Instead, you toss and turn in bed, and, as you lay there, you slowly start to feel the anger slipping away from your bones.
Tomorrow is gonna be a new day, and you couldn't hold this over his head forever, anyway.
After ten more minutes, the door opens and Noah comes into the bedroom. He quietly does his thing in the bathroom, and changes into his sleep clothes. He doesn't say anything, even though he can tell you're awake.
It's when he lays down in bed with you, that it all comes crashing down.
It starts off with quiet sniffles, that soon turn into full body sobs, as he tries to even out his breath and wipe the tears from his eyes.
You come out of mom mode, and instead, you decide to be the partner he needs right now.
Turning on your side, you wrap your arms around him, and he rests his head on your shoulder, his cries not letting up.
"I'm such a shitty father. How can I fucking forget my son's school play?"
"You're not a shitty father. What happened today wasn't nice, but it doesn't define you as a father", you tell him, honestly, but you can tell it's gonna take more for him to understand that.
"Yes, I am. I try so hard to not fuck up but it happens anyways. Maybe it runs in the family, and you're probably wondering why you even had a kid with me in the first place"
This time, you sit up in bed, and you prompt him to sit up with you. Taking his head in your hands, you make him look you in the eye. His tear-stained face looks back at you, as fresh tears still slip down his cheeks.
"That's something I won't tolerate", you tell him, with a firm, but gentle tone. You needed him to understand this. "I never thought twice about having a baby with you, and I wouldn't think twice about having another one", you said, taking a few seconds for him to comprehend your words. "Again, this does not define you as a father, and, honestly? This is not the only shitty thing that'll happen. We have Ezra's whole life ahead of us, and we're bound to mess up from time to time. But what matters is that we're trying. And we're doing damn well so far"
He's calmed down by now, as he listens to what you're saying. You've always had the ability to ease his nerves, even in situations like this.
"Ezra is so loved by both of us, this was just a little bump on the road, ok?", you asked and he nodded.
"Thank you", he said, voice low and throat raspy from the force of his cries.
"You don't have to thank me. You know I love you forever, right? And we're doing this together"
"I love you so much", he intertwined his hands with yours and kissed the back of your hand. "Can Ezra sleep with us tonight?", he asks and you nod in agreement.
"Go get him. He'll love to see you"
As Noah left the bedroom to get Ezra, you thought over the events of today.
You knew what happened was far from ideal, but like you told Noah, it does not reflect who he is as a father. Besides, shit is bound to happen, and you're sure you're going to mess up as well sometime in the future. It was all about how you decided to handle it. And you handled it like you and Noah always did. Together.
A few minutes later, Noah comes back with a drowsy, but happy looking Ezra in his arms. And, as they both lay down, with the little on in the middle, Ezra turns to you and whispers.
"Daddy's not feeling so great tonight, mommy. So I'll cuddle him with him instead of you, ok?", he asks, and you get a little amused.
"That's fine, baby", you agree, heart swelling with pride at how considerate and kind your son is.
And that's how you fall asleep. Ezra tucked under Noah's arm that is stretched under his son's head, caressing your hair softly, a silent apology, as you look at him, giving a smile and a little nod, telling him you're accepting it.
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goorgeousz · 2 days ago
Text
(no) underwear | emily prentiss underwear trilogy
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(no) underwear | emily prentiss
underwear trilogy
18+ MDNI
pairing: emily prentiss x fem!bau!reader
summary: you go on a date, but all you can think about is emily. so you have no other option than to confront her about it.
content/tw: smut, oral sex (E receiving), thigh riding, fingering, nipple play, FxF sex, if there’s anything else lmk
word count: 4k
a/n: it took me long enough, but it’s finally here!!!!! thank you for all the love on part one and part two, and thank you for the patience!!! I’ve been going through a lot these last couple weeks, but I’m BACK! And a special thank you for @mrsines for the idea and for checking up on me these past days, you’re so sweet!!! Again, I’m sorry it took me this long, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out, I hope it’s up to your guys expectations!! I’ll stop yapping, brace yourself this is smutty smut!!!
Tag list @inlovewithjemily @snoopyaah @chestnutninny @piiinco @maryann1204 @babybeeelle
part one
part two
main masterlist
dividers: @uzmacchiato
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He was a 10, but didn’t compliment your shoulders.
That was your take on the date you were currently coming home from. It was a great night, honestly. As perfect as a first date could be. He was prettier than the pictures, didn’t let the conversation die, not even once. Treat you like a real gentleman. Get there earlier than you, choose your favorite wine (you tweeted about it once), pull your chair out for you. Paid the bill before it even got to the table. He listened to you, actually seemed interested in you (which isn’t a lot, but a real surprise when it came to dating these days). He complimented you many times: about your intelligence, your appearance, your taste in food.
But not your shoulders.
And that sealed the deal.
Emily was at your place, helping you pick an outfit for the date. After about an hour of dissecting your closet from inside out, you narrowed your search down to two options.
So, as you were panicking to choose between two (very similar, mind you) tops, as one does, Emily stepped up, watching you explain the pros and cons from each one from the mirror.
She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, analysing your entire figure like a pro. It kind of helped ease your nervousness.
“So, this one or the other?” you asked her, your voice tired and hopeless. She stepped closer, stopping just behind you, her eyes burning holes on your skin. You hoped she didn’t take too long in whatever the hell she was doing, because if she stared a bit longer she might notice you shaking.
“Definitely this one.” Emily stated, finally meeting your eyes in an assertiveness that instantly convinced you “It brings out your shoulders, they’re very athletic.”
“They are?” you repeat her words weakly, suddenly paying attention to your shoulders. She was right, the collar of that specific top flattered that area, and your shoulders were indeed beautiful. It was always like this: whenever Emily mentioned something to you, that specific thing seemed to be highlighted in neon lights. Her words worked like a spell on you, every single time.
“Oh, absolutely.” she emphasized it by grazing her fingertips along your shoulder blades. “You have gorgeous shoulders, I can’t believe no one ever told you.”
So, no. He didn’t compliment your shoulders.
It pissed you off. And it pissed you off that you were pissed off about that guy not mentioning how athletic your shoulders look in the first place. You had only Emily to blame.
For that exact (and only) reason, you found yourself giving the taxi driver Emly’s address instead of yours. 
Your mind raced with thoughts, and by the time the car pulled up to Emily’s building, you’d made up your mind. She was going to pay for whatever spell she’d put on you.
The five flights of stairs you took didn't register on your brain, you spent those minutes rehearsing the speech you were about to give her. You had everything in order, all the words perfectly arranged to give her the talk of your life. 
You took a minute to catch your breath because there was no way you would speak your heart out and have a heart attack in between sentences. This was too important.
So, after taking a few deep breaths and repeating the speech one last time on your head, you knocked on her door. Three loud bangs, to which you instantly cringed at the sound. It was way too late for that. But you puffed out your chest, you were going to own it.
It took Emily half a minute to open the door.
It took you one single glance at her to forget every single word you worked so hard to memorize.
She wore a skin tight white tank top (no bra!!!!!!), molding the curve of her perky breasts in a way that belonged to a museum. In a poor job to cover herself, she wore teeny-tiny plaid patterned pajama shorts. If you leaned down you were sure you could see her underwear peeking out from under it. That’s it, if she was even wearing underwear. You decided to not go down that rabbit hole.
“Hey, weren’t you supposed to be on a date?” she asked, seemingly glad to see you but confused.
“Yeah, we had a problem...”
Wrong choice of words to say to an FBI agent.
Her posture changed, her face giving place to a scowl while she instantly reached for her gun and badge on the entryway table.
“What kind of problem? Are you hurt?”
“NO! No, not that kind of problem. The date was fine, I’m fine.” you quickly explained, motioning for her to go back inside.
“Oh, thank god.” she muttered, putting back her belongings. You were too nervous to laugh at her instincts “What’s wrong, then?”
You took a deep breath, stared deep into her eyes, threw away the beautiful and grammarly correct speech you mentally wrote and just said whatever came to mind.
“You mentioned my underwear that time at the bar and my brain completely collapsed ever since. I know you’re just jokingly flirting and that’s what friends do and you probably don't even flinch when you do it, but every time you guess the color of my panties I swear to god all I can think about is you taking it off of me. With your teeth, when I’m ovulating. It’s driving me insane.”
Emily stared at you in surprise at your word vomiting. She opened her mouth and then closed. Once, twice. Nothing came out. Her eyes darted to a point behind you, to where she nodded and tried a tight smile.
“Mrs. Nolan, hi. Have a good night.” you widen your eyes, whipping your head around to find the elderly woman walking past behind you, the red burning on her cheeks contrasting comically to the white of her fluffy hair. “We should probably head inside.” Emily mumbled, taking your attention off of a very scandalized Mrs. Nolan.
You mumbled an apology, tilting your head down and stumbling inside Emily’s apartment. While trying not to bang your head into a wall in embarrassment, you hear her closing and locking the front door.
In Emily’s defense, she’s really trying not to laugh.
In your defense, she’s not doing a very good job.
“Stop.”
“I’m sorry!” she interrupted, her bubbly laugher finally making its way out of her mouth. The sight of her trying to cover up her face with her hands but only managing to laugh louder eventually cracks you, and you chuckle as well.
The two of you spend a moment just looking at each other and laughing at the insanity of the situation.
“Can we start over?” she asked, when her laughter finally died down.
“I’m sorry, I…”
“Please don’t take it back.” she murmures, and it sounds so desperate and bare, you cannot find it in yourself to do it “Did you mean it?”
You took a deep breath “I did.”
Emily sighed like she’d been holding her breath for ages. She stepped closer, her hand sneaking up your cheek. You stared deeply into her eyes, trying to say everything you wanted to but couldn’t. She bit her lower lip, like she was holding herself back, while she searched for confirmation in your eyes. She was hungry, you could see it. You could feel it in the air. You only hoped she knew it wasn’t one-sided.
Whatever evidence of your desire she was looking for, she must’ve found it. Because the next thing you knew, her lips touched yours. They were soft, moist and gentle. Everything you hoped for but somehow so much more.
You held her waist into an embrace, deepening the kiss. You heard her hum into your mouth, her tongue grazing your lips like she was testing the waters before diving in. The kiss turned from chaste to deep within a second. It was hungry, but sure. Not desperate, but full of emotions. You kissed like you’ve done it your entire lives. Like you were meant to do it. And eventually, when air was made extremely necessary, you pulled back in sync. But not all the way, not letting go of each other. Emily rested her forehead on yours, both of your breathing uneven, eyes searching in each other the confirmation that it happened, that it was real. You were real.
“Hi.” she whispered, her hands squeezing your shoulders. You giggled “Hi.”
The two of you stared at each other for a while longer, until she pulled back, her hands finding comfort on the dips of your waist, holding you close enough for your bodies to keep touching, but far enough that you could see her face.
“I assume the date wasn’t great, then.”
“Wrong.” you smiled, finding it way too pleasing to correct her “It was amazing. It was also awful. It’s all your fault.” she laughed, knowing by your tone that you were just being dramatic and everyone (you, really) was safe and sound.
“Please tell me what harm could I’ve possibly done from the safety of my bedroom.”
You blushed at the thought of what she was doing in her bedroom.
“You ruined me. You flirt with me, and you spoil me. You compliment my shoulders, for Christ's sake. You treat me so well, no one could ever me enough. You ruined me.” you accused, smiling. She laughed loudly, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips.
“Guilty.” you laughed, letting go of the embrace to smack her slightly on the shoulder “Earlier you mentioned I was jokingly flirting with you. I need to clarify: I wasn’t joking around. Not once. I've been crazy about you for ages. I was fine with being friends, I really do love our friendship. But I was flirting. Heavily.”
“Yeah?” you asked breathlessly, your heart drumming loudly on your chest. She smiled.
“Yeah. And on a serious note: your shoulders do look incredible.” you rolled your eyes, chuckling. “I mean it. I just want to… Can I?” you nodded eagerly, not having a clue of what she was talking about. She seemed to pick up on your desperation, smirking at you like a predator.
Emily leaned down, using a hand to pull your hair back, giving her plain sight of your clavicle. She sighed, her eyes darkening at the sight of your skin. She dipped her head, pepping kisses every inch her mouth could touch.
The strangled sound you let out was so loud you were sure her neighbors heard it. Her mouth worked wonders on your neck, your hands grasping on her hair for dear life, pulling her in while shoving your torso onto her at the same time.
It was like Emily saw right through you, knowing where to touch, to kiss and to press to get you worked up. And the best part was that it didn’t feel like she was doing it to please you. At least not entirely. She was doing it entirely for herself, like she was out of air and your skin was her oxygen.
Before you noticed, the two of you stumbled around into the living room, the back of your knee bumping against the couch until you fell seated on it. Emily giggled, stradling your hips and grabbing your face between her hands, kissing you passionately again.
“I’ve been dreaming of doing this for so long.” she whispers, between kisses. You feel her fingers grazing the hem of your shirt, and you hesitate for a moment. She feels it instantly “Is everything okay?” 
“Y-Yeah… It’s just… You’re my first. I’ve never been… with a girl.” 
Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous glint.
“You know we don’t have to do anything, right?” you nodded.
“I want to. If you want it too.” she smiles, leaning in again and kissing you hungrier. It was all the answer you could hope for.
This time, you didn’t wait for her to take the lead, you took your shirt off in a swit motion, letting it drop somewhere behind the couch. Emily looked at you stunned, a mist of disbelief and anticipation. She climbed off of your lap, her hands diving down to the buttons of your pants.
“Please…” you whispered when she hesitated, pushing her hand more firmly on you. Her breath hitched, and she started working on taking off your pants. You lifted your hips, your eyes glued to her face, her mouth kissing every bit of newly exposed skin.
With your shoes, pants and top already discarded around the living room, she seated back and stared at your body in awe, taking in the sight of your skin shining under the lacy set you picked out for the evening.
“There’s no way you did all this for him.” she muttered, more to herself than to you.
“I was thinking about you the whole time.” you meant it. You didn’t even realize how truthful your words were until you heard them coming out of your mouth.
Those words and the truth behind them lighted up something inside Emily. The way her eyes darkened was the last thing you saw before she close to jumped on you, the force of the impact making the two of you fall laid on the couch, her body on top of yours, her kisses hungrier and wetter than before.
You took advantage of your position, your hands roaming up and down her torso, grabbing the flash of her thighs and drowning at how soft she felt. It looked like a dance, you moving in synchrony and at the same time messily, trying to keep it going for as long as possible and racing to reach the long awaited relief.
With all the tossing and turning, eventually you found yourself laid flat on your back, with Emily curled up on your side, one of her legs on top of yours and her hand travelling all over your body. She latched on your neck, and her kissing and biting left you a moaning mess, back arching out of the couch and your hips grinding on her thigh.
“You’re so beautiful.” she says, her lips grazing the shell of your ear. Her hands play with your bra, tracing the lacy patterns with a feather-like touch. The softness of her touch made your body burn in need. She keeps up the torture for a bit longer before finally pushing the fabric down, freeing your breasts and playing with each of them attentively. She flicks both your nipples, relishing at how hard they were.
You grabbed her leg, placing it firmly across your legs and grinding against it, using her knee as a personal dildo against your core. Emily groaned at your desperation “Needy, aren’t we?” she managed to say, her voice as breathless as you. You moaned in response, only grinding harder.
Not wanting to be in your way, she let you explore your body (and hers) however you wanted. She loved being used by you, and even though there was nothing more she wanted than to pin you down and explore every inch of your body, she let you have it. It was just the beginning, after all.
She murmured praises to your ear, paying attention to what made you moan louder, eager to learn your wants and needs. All the biting, kissing, sucking she worked on your neck while whispering the most delicious words combined with her caresses on your chest was sending you over the edge faster than it ever did. When he felt your movements going sloppier, Emily flexed her thigh, grinding down harder on your clothered cunt, helping you reach your peak, and just like that, your orgasm crashed down on you. Hard.
You moaned loudly, repeating her name like a mantra and digging your nails at her thigh, leaving marks that would take long to heal.
She stayed right there, stroking you and murmuring praises and soft kisses to your cheek while you climbed out your high, breathless.
When your breath finally evened out, you turned your head to the side, staring at her with wide eyes. She looked at you hesitantly, like you were about to run away from her at any moment. You let go of her leg, letting one of your hands dart up on her face, using your thumb to massage her frown off of her face. You leaned closer, giving her a long peck on her lips.
She sighed against your mouth, her body instantly relaxing in relief.
“Can we move to your bed?”
The smile she gave you could probably stop a word war.
The two of you stumbled along the hallway to her bedroom, stopping only to get rid of her remaining clothes.
Emily sat on the edge of her bed, only her white cotton underwear on. Her body glowed under the light of her bedside table, an unfinished book left upside down on her pillow. You took your time admiring the sight before you, and felt she was doing the same to you.
Without one ounce of hesitation on your mind, you stepped closer, watching in awe the way she parted her legs to fit you between them. Your eyes were immediately drawn by her thighs, the sight of the nail marks you left on the right one startled you for a second, followed by a wave of pride and possessiveness.
“I’m sorry.” you muttered, biting your lower lip to contain a smile. She snorted.
“You don’t sound sorry.” she teases. You lift your gaze back to her face, feeling relieved by her look of amusement. Losing herself in her eyes made you forget what you thought was so funny moments ago, the urge to feel her closer being too strong to ignore.
“I’m not sure about what I’m doing.” you started, hating the way your cheeks blushed in embarrassment. Her hands cupped your face, giving you a kiss.
“We’ll take it slow.”
“I don’t wanna mess this up.” you admitted, your voice weak.
“You won’t.” she guaranteed “Just do whatever you want. Anything.” and it sounded more like a plea than an instruction. So you listened.
Taking her face in your hands, you closed your distance in a steamy kiss. Your tongue immediately found its way back into her mouth, getting rewarded with a sound so strangled and beautiful it made you shiver. Your hands roamed everywhere, her arms, her hands, her torso, her breasts. You cupped each one of her tits, squeezing and massaging them like you wanted to memorize its feeling when you were gone. She arched her back towards you, her legs tensing and moving around looking for something to ground themselves on.
You kept yourself from leaving a mark on her neck, but wasn’t so kind to her chest, biting, sucking, liking and kissing the thin flesh there. She shoved her tits into your mouth, holding your face close to her while letting the most beautiful sounds. You knew she was impatient and was in desperate need of relief, but you just couldn’t help yourself.
Her skin tasted addictively, you were sure you wouldn’t forget the way it felt so soft against your tongue even after years. You found yourself pushing her further into the bed, your kisses making their way down into her stomach, getting lower by the second. The way she squirmed under you only boosted your confidence, and there was no room for second thoughts on your mind, only desire.
“It’s this o…”
“Yes!” she yelped before you could actually ask the question, staring at your hands gripping at the side of her panties, like she could make you move by the power of her glance only. Turns out she could, so you moved the fabric down her toned legs slowly but surely, not hesitating in the slightest.
Your mouth watered at the sight, Emily laid down on display fully naked, begging for you. A sight you only let yourself dream about late in the night, when there was no one watching. Where no one could judge, not even yourself. As if you weren’t deserving of it. And there she was, in all of her glory, looking up at you with so much lust and adoration you swore you could do anything.
She parted her legs, her eyes darkened watching you every breath, and you opened your mouth without realizing
“You’re so pretty, Em.” you managed, leaning closer like you were under a spell. Your fingers darted on her slit, collecting her wetness and watching her reaction. She threw her head back, her hips jerking up in such desperation you should pity her. But you really didn’t.
Watching attentively her face, you started to learn quickly which kind of movements got the best reactions out of her, and by the time you let yourself kiss her there, she was definitely getting a noise complaint the morning after.
She begged, hummed, moaned your name, praising you about how good you were making her feel. You introduced two fingers inside of her, and she actively started riding your face.
“Come here” she demanded, her voice hoarse but still firm. You looked up confused, following her lead when she sat up to reach your lower back and push your hips closer to her hands. You sat awkwardly at her right side by her hips, her hands pushing your face back down to her pussy like she wanted to feast on her body. Already used to being bossed around by her, you immediately returned to your lapping at her cunt.
That’s when you felt her hand making its way between your legs, spreading them apart and quickly pushing your underwear to the side again, diving right back into your already too wet slit.
You laid down further to grant her access, and the two of you ended up in a kind of a sixty-nine position, with her hand working on you instead of your mouth. She shoved her fingers into your slit, making you moan loudly with your mouth glued to her. She felt the sound deep into her, her free hand pushing your head harder into her cunt.
“Right there, shit.” she begged “You’re so good to me, eating me up like that.” you moaned, lapping at her clit like a starved caveman. She nearly screamed, the heel of her hand pressing your clit while her fingers curved inside of you, hitting that sweet spot every time she moved them.
You felt Emily clench on your fingers, and you knew she could feel you doing the same “I’m so close, keep doing that. Can you come with me, pretty girl?” she asked, her voice completely out of breath. You just hummed, grinding down on her hand hoping this was enough of a response, not daring to take your mouth off of her. She chuckled, “I’ll take that as a yes.” 
In any other moment, your eyes would roll at how cocky she was being. But right now, they were rolling for a completely different reason, and Emily was completely right to be cocky when she made you come that hard for a second time. She came right after you, her legs shaking so wildly you had to hold them down to help her ride it out with your tongue.
When the two of you climbed down off your heights, you pulled back from her, leaving one last kiss on her clit that made her squirm away. You laughed, and she pulled you by your arm to lay down closer to her.
She held you closer, caressing your cheek. You took in the flush of her cheeks, the thin layer of sweat covering her face and body, a few strands of her bang wet and glued to her forehead.
“Hi.” you whispered. 
She giggled back, “Hi, pretty girl.” leaning in and giving you a kiss. Not a hungry and desperate one: it was passionate and slow. 
It was a promise: this isn’t over.
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formiito · 2 days ago
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i crave domestic chuuya doing simple things like running errands with his s/o or chores together. just daily life with him :(((
breathe (in the air) ; chuuya nakahara
synopsis : late night cooking with chuuya. aka chuuya's way of saying "stay with me" without saying anything at all. read on ao3
author's note: AAHSGEHGEJSHEJ i've been ignoring requests for so long because of medical exams but it's alright now bc exams are done yippie </3 this is short bc im working on like two soukoku aus and my fyodor fic at the same time but BEAR WITH ME i hope you like it ajdhejgedjhe
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There is the smell of something that might be burning that you're not quite sure of yet. However, Chuuya seems to be looking at the oven as if it owed him money, hands on the top of it like that would somehow fix the dish. Once he opened the oven, he grimaced at the stiff mass of … something on the tray. He picked the solid, black mass of burnt food up, hitting the floor with it in frustration. It didn't break. Or chip. He wonders what the fuck happened in that oven to make this weird indestructible thing out of cookie batter. How do you even fuck up that bad? How does anyone fuck up that bad??
Soft footsteps resound in the hallway that leads to the kitchen, and he doesn't need to look back to know who it is. The rhythm of your steps memorized, the manner in which your hands instinctively go to wrap around his neck feels familiar, and he breathes an exhausted, content sigh.
"What are you doing up so late?"
Right. What was he trying to do again? Baking boxed cookie mix. Because neither of them had the energy to cook anything for dinner and had passed out the moment they fell on the bed, clumsily half-undressing each other before sleep pulled them over the line that separated reality and dreams. Still, he didn't think they'd wake up too. When he got out of the bed at that small hour, he made sure to be as discreet as possible. After all, you looked even more exhausted than him, and he'd hate to disturb you when you were worn to the bone. But draped over his back like this, he liked that too. He figured he just likes most everything you do.
"What's that?" Your eyes drift to the weird black thing on the floor.
"Cookies."
"…Cookies?"
"I mean. It's supposed to be. What the fuck went wrong…" Chuuya groaned, clearly irritated by his recent failures.
He might've cut a few corners here and there when it came to the recipe, but even then, it should be impossible to make what looks like a condensed mass of human misery out of cookie dough premix. He should've really just gone out to get something from the convenience store, but the thought of going outside in this kind of all too warm and sticky weather made him want to just give up and go back to bed.
The sound of you humming in thought breaks his train of thought that was steadily derailing into annoyance. Once you pulled away—to which he just sighed, irrationally wanting to chase the touch—he watched as you got up, looking in the cabinet for something easy to make. "We could cook something together, you know." That idea had crossed his head, and in truth he just did not want to bother, but it meant spending more time with you. So despite being still mad at his recent mishap, he nodded, looking into the cupboard as well. He let you pick what you wanted. Rice, dashi, wasabi and a few other things he watched you take out, over your shoulder—maybe you were trying to make chazuke. Seems simple enough. Maybe he should've done that earlier, but to be fair, he would've just given up halfway and gone to sleep. Since you were the one doing it though, naturally he'd help.
While the water is boiling, he puts in a random disk in the CD player, looking at the cover. Pink Floyd, huh. While he's never really been one for this sort of music, or ever thought that he'd somehow associate the warm sounds of psychedelic rock with home, he's grown to like it too. Much as the rest of your things that are scattered round the house, seamlessly mixing into the space that is far too big for one person, he's fond of the little reminders. He doesn't outright say it, but this place feels less colder now that you've made it your home too. He doesn't need to say what the both of you know for a fact. As the sounds of Dark Side Of The Moon filter from the speakers of the old CD player, he walks back into the kitchen, where he picks off two bowls from the dish rack. Don't be afraid to care, huh…
Not that at the end of the day there was anything else. After the blood was spilled and the bodies had dropped, there was little to do other than welcome themselves home with a bottle of alcohol shared between two and letting intoxication blur the lines between nightmares and blissful sleep, or never make it to the bed, the touch of soft lips replacing the comfort of the mouth of the bottle. The tolerance keeps increasing; perhaps one day these distractions will no longer be enough to keep their mind off their troubles. It never was in the first place. The need to feel something more, more than the thrill of the fight or the reminder of regret—that was what they needed. But even if it didn't not entirely do the job, these routines were easy to fall into, were they not? One more glass, one more touch. Spend one more night wrapped in shared safety while being ready to lose each other the next day.
It was easy.
And right now, so is existing with you. Under the soft glow of the lamp, your face; the artificial sparkle in your eyes where he knows all light has fizzled out—his head rests on his folded arms, looking at you, and it's all strangely pretty. Maybe its because between the two of you and the adrenaline rush that seems to sustain the day, peace was a luxury. Once the scent of freshly steamed rice filled the kitchen, he stood up, picking out two bowls and filling them with rice. Your hands poured the tea onto the rice, carefully topping it with wasabi and furikake.
Funnily enough that he doesn't usually wake up at this hour just to cook with you, and yet doing so makes it feel like he's actually home with you. Not simply a temporary place to rest before throwing himself full throttle into whatever job was lined up for him next. For the likes of Chuuya, home has always been people, but it is for that reason that the feeling of home had always been temporary. As if the moment things began to feel stable, the moment he began to feel alright, it would be ruined again. Like a bandaid ripped off too early on a wound
You patch the cuts up.
Just a little.
Just enough for it to hurt a little less.
So when the night ends with finished bowls tossed carelessly into the sink, bedsheets crumpled by tossing and turning, and his eyelids fall with the passing of the clock hands—
No dreams tonight.
Or nightmares.
Only a sleepy warmth.
It's strangely peaceful.
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himbodruid · 14 hours ago
Text
Blooming Fissures
Caleb x Reader
His return shattered everything you tried to bury. But some fissures don’t break; they bloom.
this is how i feel their reunion should’ve gone
INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ⋆。°✩・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
“Kick me, hit me, scream at me,” he begged, his voice quivering with barely contained emotion. “Please, anything but this silence.”
You stood, staring at him without a single word. Just as you had been since he ushered you into his condo. Drinking him in, unable to remember how long it had been since you last saw him. It felt like a lifetime, but realistically it was probably only about eight months. You hadn’t even had the time to fully grieve, not after fully throwing yourself into your work to forget. But everything came crashing back into you all at once.
He was older, definitely, but something in your brain was almost too scared to believe that the man in front of you was the same Caleb you knew and loved. His jaw was more defined, eyes more tired, and he was fucking massive. He’d always been a giant to you, but now he had bulked out considerably while he’d been off doing fuck all.
“How fucking dare you,” you manage to say, your voice trembling. You couldn’t stand the way he was looking at you, like a heartbroken puppy. “You don’t get to stand there looking at me like that.”
You strode forward, giving him a reaction- like he wanted- when your fist collided with his rock-hard chest. “Do you have any idea what you put me through? How devastated I was when they told me they couldn’t find your body? How I lost hope after every passing day of seeing you alive again? And then you have the audacity to be alive after all this fuckin’ time?”
Each furious question was punctuated by another strike of your fists. Tears stung your eyes, but you stubbornly refused to let them fall. And all the while, he stood there, taking in your fury, your pain. He let you hit him, didn’t dare to react, didn’t even flinch, and instead he let you vent against him in whatever way you needed. The expression he wore was stricken, and you couldn’t bear to see it.
It was a surprise to you both when you stood up on your toes to crush your mouth against his. In a fit of heightened emotion, you’d given in to an impulse that you’d kept locked away since you were teenagers. Shock rippled through him, making him freeze, surprise evident in the wide eyed stare he gave you when you pulled away.
“You asshole,” you said before diving back in, giving no care to the rejection you all but expected with the way that he stood stock still.
Then his composure cracked and he was hauling you against him. You clawed at him, trying to climb him like a damn tree. Your chest pressed against him, you were already so impossibly close, but it still wasn’t enough. His mouth devoured you, coaxing you open to tangle his tongue with yours. You pulled away from him, but only to rip his shirt over his head, only for him to do the same to you immediately after.
Clothing was shed and scattered until he had your bare ass against a short bookshelf. He gave no hesitation in plunging his cock into you, and you cried out when the pleasure rippled through you. Fuck, how he filled you. It was more than you ever could have hoped.
He set a frantic, desperate pace. You clung to him, ignoring things that fell from the bookshelf. When the shelf itself heaved to the side and threatened collapse from your combined weight and vigor, he dragged you away from it. A short distance away, two strides at most, and he had you against his desk.
His pace didn’t decrease in the transition, the solid build of the desk inviting him to slam into you even harder. Items scattered from the surface, clattering to the ground while each thrust violently crashed the rear edge of the desk into the wall. He buried his face in your neck, his grunting moans fanning across your skin in heated puffs of breath.
“F-fuck,” he groaned, circling his arms around your waist to crush you against him. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”
You dropped your head back, cries echoing in the room as his mouth latched onto your thundering pulse. Clawing into his back didn’t deter him, just encouraged him to plow into you harder. With thighs cradling his torso, you locked your ankles behind his back. All you could do was cling to him while he drove hard into you, calling out his name with every forceful thrust.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-“ he groaned into your ear. “W-where?”
“In,” you breathe, clinging to him more firmly.
“Y’sure?”
“Yes! Fuck, Caleb! I need you to cum in me,” you cry, feeling pleasure rippling through you with every strike of his cock. At your command, he buried himself into you as deep as he could go. With a guttural shout, his body shuddered and he spilled into you. The pulsing twitch of his cock ripped your own climax from you, cascading flutters of your walls milking him for everything he had to give.
He leaned hard on a hand placed firmly on the desktop, crushing his mouth against yours. You dug your nails into him, squeezing your walls around him.
“More,” you growled into his mouth, earning a heated whimper from him. He obeyed without question, hips already colliding against yours again.
Desperate. Frenzied. Carnal. All words that would describe the way he fucked you, as if years of pent up desire between both of you finally found a release. As if the world would end tomorrow and this was the only chance either of you would ever get.
He took you against every flat surface, crashing into you with quick rhythmic snaps of his hips. Short grunting moans erupted from him with every hard thrust, while you were left breathless from the pleasure that coursed through you. Reason escaped you as the anger-fueled sex turned into primal mating. You forgot why you were even mad at him in the first place, all your focus turned to the way he fucked you.
His stamina was bullshit. While he wrenched climax after climax from you, he still had enough to keep plunging into you. Even when he would slam forward to spill into you, he would just start right back up again at the smallest of nudges from you. Even when his breathing turned ragged and sweat trickled down his chest, he kept going, bucking into you with whole body shudders when another release steamrolled him.
Until, finally, he slumped against you, panting as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. He had you back on his desk after making rounds throughout his apartment, a trail of destruction following your path. Even the poor bookshelf finally succumbed to your combined ardor and collapsed. You carded your hands through his hair, trying to catch your breath alongside him.
“Fuck,” he whimpered against your neck, pressing his hips flush against yours as he nuzzled you. “I want you so goddamn badly, but I don’t think I can handle anymore.”
“We have all the time in the world now,” you murmured, kissing his neck and coming away with the salty tang of him on your lips.
“It’s still not enough,” he complained, pulling away only enough to rest his forehead against yours.
“But it’s enough to shower and rest,” you chuckle. He huffed a short laugh, leaning in to give a quick kiss before he hauled you into his arms and carried you off to his bathroom.
Even under the hot spray of water, neither of you could keep your hands to yourself.
***
Later, when you were settled- quite naked- in his bed, you watched with keen interest as he left the room. Completely unashamed in his nudity, you couldn’t stop your eyes from raking down his fine figure. You marveled at the imposing physique he had, and briefly wondered if his bulk came from his time in the DAA, or if he honed himself into a weapon on his own. You never paid too close attention when you were younger, never indulged in the fantasies that roamed freely in your head as a teen when it came to him. But he was considerably larger than you remembered, his shoulders more broad and muscles more defined.
He returned moments later with glasses of water, and you averted your gaze with a blaze spreading across your face. Bites, scratches, and purpling marks made by your mouth and fingers decorated his skin, just as numerous as the marks he made on you. But that wasn’t what had you blushing like mad and looking away.
How can he still be hard after all that?
You wanted to jump him again. You wanted him to jump you. But you kept your hands to yourself, proud that you could accomplish this small feat. Even when he sat at the edge of the bed and handed you the water. Your hands twitched, but you forced them to stay busy by grabbing the glass instead of him.
“I never dared to hope to have you like this,” he said reverently. The pad of his thumb brushed against your lip and his eyes zeroed in on the movement. That keen gaze followed his hand as it trailed down your body. “I always kept this craving I had for you sequestered away, locked in my dreams.”
You sat up fully and set your glass aside, unable to stop yourself now from indulging in your own craving. Even after the frenzied fucking that left half of his house in disarray, you still hadn’t had enough of him. Your hand snaked around the back of his neck, pulling him into you so you could slant your mouth over his.
He kissed you languidly, drawing out a fire within you in slow measure. It was a stark contrast to your earlier foray, sending shoots of pleasure through you just from that simple contact. He pulled back, searching your face. You didn’t know what he searched for, but he stared at you in awe, as if he couldn’t believe you were in front of him. As if he couldn’t believe he was here with you, right now. He cupped your face, the pad of his thumb swiping against your cheek before he leaned into you again.
His bulk settled over you, pressing you into the mattress. His weight was like an anchor, confirming that this wasn’t some wild dream. He was here, he was real. His arms caging you, the strength of his shoulders and back under your exploring hands, his hips wonderfully tucked between your thighs- all of it was real.
This time when he took you, it was with such reverent worship that it made your heart pound harder than when he was plunging into you with primal ferocity. Each slow, full stroke was punctuated by a breathless moan escaping you. His hands weren't roaming, grasping, like they were earlier. Instead they cradled your head while his mouth claimed yours, devouring the sounds you made.
Your grip on him tightened, fingers clutching his hair while the other hand dug into his shoulder. Your legs wrapped more firmly around his waist, heels locking against his back. He obliged your silent command, every forward stroke lingering as a hard press against your pelvis before slipping away. The pace of his thrusts increased only slightly, instead offering friction over speed.
“C-Caleb,” you whimpered, dangling on the precipice of completion.
“Yes,” he groaned, somehow knowing exactly what you needed.
His hips jerked forward, driving as deep as he can. The climax was simultaneous, the twitching pulse of his cock matching the fluttering thrum of your walls as you shattered around him. You threw your head back into his pillows, arching beneath him while pure pleasure thundered through you. His moans spilled from him against the column of your throat, his hot breath fanning across your skin and raising goosebumps. You’d coupled with him multiple times in a matter of hours, but this was the most intense orgasm yet.
While the pair of you came down from the high, he nuzzled into your neck and peppered you with kisses wherever he could reach. Exhaustion tugged at you, but you resisted it in favor of stroking a hand through his hair, reveling in the softness you found. A sound rumbled in his chest, so similar to a cat’s purr that it had you chuckling. He lifted his head, a smile on his face that lit up the galaxy in his eyes.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, kissing you so tenderly that it was nearly painful. He rolled off you, tugging you into his embrace. You snuggled into him, letting his warmth envelope you.
“I’m still mad at you,” you grumble as sleep threatened to take you. You felt him kiss the top of your head with a soft chuckle.
“I know,” he said softly, tightening his hold on you.
For the first time in a long time, you slept without threat of nightmares.
92 notes · View notes