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yauchfilms · 7 months ago

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anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment.

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation.

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?”

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked.

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing.

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it.

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family.

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables.

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,” mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression.

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt.

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror.

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area.

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you. “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam.

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right.

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him.

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment.

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin.

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin.

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it.

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it.

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you.

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise.

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you.

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle.

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back.

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him.

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you.

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful.

between your fits of giggles, you let out a ��mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye.

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek.

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him.

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery.

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass.

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you.

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long.

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor.

“i thought you said we weren’t–”

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch.

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast.

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest.

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were.

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later.

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point.

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it.

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds.

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means.

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly.

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers.

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers.

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband.

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way.

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel.

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready.

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue.

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach.

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth.

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come.

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you.

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you.

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides.

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm.

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks.

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen.

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

#logan sargeant smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader

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tojosuggestionbox · 9 months ago

Text

I am happy to announce that yes, a general healthcare plan will be made available to members of the Tojo Clan. Rates will be decided on a family-to-family basis, where members of families approved for the program will be able to apply for coverage of any work-related injuries as well as several other conditions. There are, however, some notable exceptions.

Tojocare does not cover any Fourth Chairman-related injuries, with rare exception to some pre-existing conditions. The best policy here is prevention. Know the KIRYU system.

If you have managed to somehow engage the Fourth Chairman in combat post his retirement, then the responsibility is entirely your own.

#mine yoshitaka #kiryu kazuma #rgg

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zepskies · 1 year ago

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Smoke Eater - Part 14

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: Welcome back! Get ready for some more detective work, a pinch of Jo drama, another fire, and the reader finally meets John Winchester...

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, fire hazards, threats, and hurt/comfort.

Part 14: “Message in a Bottle”

A week before Christmas, John Winchester left his house for work before the sun had even risen in the sky. It was still dim when he stepped out onto his porch, which is why he didn’t see it at first.

He heard the clink when his boot kicked at something metallic.

He glanced down and found a small badge lying on the ground. He bent to pick it up, and on further inspection, it was a fire department’s badge. A replica, probably, because it had Dean’s number on it: 20579.

The badge was also splattered with blood.

Later at his office, John handed it over to his partner for his inspection.

“It’s actually paint,” John said. “Forensics looked it over. No prints, of course.”

“That’s a shame,” Cas said. His tone was mild, but his face was as grave as John’s as he considered the crimson-stained badge. They stood together in the bullpen of the 84th Precinct.

“And I got this little present a few days ago,” John admitted quietly. He grabbed a folder off his desk and showed Cas its contents: a picture of Sam leaving the courthouse while talking on his cell, climbing into his car. Someone was watching his sons.

“I already have a police detail on him,” John said, heaving a sigh. “I requested approval for Dean’s this morning.”

Cas’s frown was deepening, along with his furrowed brows. “We may need to ask for backup on this.”

John shook his head. “Rufus won’t give it to us.”

Their esteemed Lieutenant thought John was on a vendetta with a ghost, stirring up a conflict of his own making. He only approved a temporary police detail for Sam, with the condition that John stopped what he was doing, let the Fire Department handle the serial arsonist, and let this blow over.

But Rufus should’ve known better than that by now. This was personal, and John wouldn’t tolerate these yellow-bellied threats to his family.

“Azazel’s applying pressure, hitting your weak spots,” Cas said, perhaps pointing out the obvious.

“So let’s hit him back, goddamn it,” John growled. He threw down the folder back onto his desk.

“How?” Cas asked. “We still don’t know who Azazel is.”

The other man thought hard, rubbing a hand over his mouth, and feeling the overgrown stubble. He didn’t remember the last time he’d shaved.

“How’s your progress on questioning Savage & Co.?” he asked.

“Stalled. Nick Savage has lawyered up,” said Cas.

His face slackened from frustration to realization. He didn’t seem happy about his next idea, but it looked like he had one.

“Though now that I think of it, we may be able to apply some pressure of our own,” he said.

John raised a brow and crossed his arms. “How’s that?”

“Dean’s girlfriend works there, if you remember,” Cas said. “Something happened this past weekend at her company Christmas party.”

John nodded, despite his frown. He was set to meet you in a week, but it looked like they might need to question you before then. What a pleasant first meeting that was going to be.

But if you had anything on Savage, on the company, or even better, if you were willing to wear a wire, that could be the break they needed to get some headway on this case. They could squeeze Savage for any information he might have on Azazel—like his real identity.

“Tell me,” John said.

You returned to work on Monday with steel in your veins (and a taser in your purse).

You had about an hour of peace in your office, catching up on your emails and calls. Then there was a knock on your door before it pushed open without your consent.

Damn it, should’ve locked it. Your lips pursed when Nick Savage came in.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said firmly. Already you were opening a drawer in your desk, reaching into your purse.

“It’s my goddamn office,” Nick replied lazily. But he crossed his arms and stopped just behind the spare chair that sat in front of your desk. It gave you a good few feet of distance.

You stared back at the man with hidden satisfaction through your disdain. It seemed Dean’s threats got to him.

“Just thought I’d let you know that Josh’s been promoted to Senior Sales Manager,” Nick said. He checked his watch absently.

Your teeth clicked in irritation, but you let it pass. He was just trying to get a rise out of you, and you no longer gave a fuck about this company anyway. What you told Dean before was the truth: you were now here just to collect a paycheck, until you could find a new job.

“Good. He’s been working hard, kissing your ass,” you said with a fake smile. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do.”

Nick made the mistake of taking a half-step forward. Your hand subtly clenched on the weapon in your purse, but you tried your best to seem relaxed. In control of yourself. This was your office that you’d occupied for three years.

This was your space, and this man didn’t control you.

“Take one step forward, and I will quit today,” you threatened. And then you bluffed.

“I’ll call Mr. Greenway,” you said. “In fact, he offered me a job last month. Then I’ll make a few more calls, and I’ll take all of my accounts with me. I’ll kill your fucking sales team and leave Josh to continue sucking your lackluster tequila dick.”

Nick stared back at you with thinly veiled shock. You’d always been “no nonsense,” but you’d never spoken to him like that before. He smirked.

This was why he liked you. And hated you.

“All right,” Nick said. He didn’t come any closer, but he did rest his hands on the back of the chair. “How about I buy out your friend Greenway. His whole damn company. And then I’ll blacklist you with every other company that calls for a reference. Even the ones that don’t call.”

Your eyes widened incredulously. He had the gall to wink at you, boiling your blood.

“I’ll fucking sue you,” you said, hating the slight tremor in your voice.

Nick rolled his eyes. “This again? Please.”

You couldn’t help it. Your temper snapped, and you pushed away from your desk to stand up. You gripped the edge of it to steady yourself. You quirked a humorless smile.

“As it happens, I know a damn good lawyer,” you countered. “He puts murderers in jail every day. I doubt he’d struggle too much with a corporate asshole. And I’ll remind you, Dean’s father is a police officer. I’m sure he’d like nothing better than to lock you up after I report you for what you did. And I will.”

Nick scoffed at that, his eyes narrowing.

“If you take it there, I’ll have every resource at my disposal to make your life a living hell. I’ll drag this out for years. Until you’ve got nothing but your boyfriend’s charity to keep you from living in a fucking box.”

You were seething, trying to stay in control. He knew it too, and he smirked at you. He pushed away from the chair and started to leave.

But then, he tossed you a smug look over his shoulder.

“Just remember,” he said. “You could’ve just spread those legs for me.”

It took everything you had within you not to hurl a stainless steel stapler at the back of his retreating head.

“A double please, Ellen. Dry, lots of olives,” you requested.

After a ridiculously long day at work, you were now trying to let go of your frustrations at the Roadhouse, while you still had the money to drink. You rubbed through the ache in your temples.

“Long day, hun?” Ellen asked you. Her eyes were sympathetic as she made you the martini you ordered. You gave her an attempt at a smile.

“Long life,” you muttered.

“Hmm. Asshole boss?” she surmised.

You met her gaze with a note of suspicion. “Did Dean tell you…”

You knew he’d told his brother about what happened at the Christmas party. And you had a feeling he’d told Cas as well, to try and see what you could do from a law enforcement standpoint. The first step was filing a report. Now you knew, however, that you couldn’t. Not if you wanted your life to remain in one piece.

“Nothing, hun,” Ellen shook her head. “You’ve just got that look. I reckon every woman in the world has worn that face. Usually because of a man.”

You sighed and chuckled at the same time. It loosened some of the tightness in your shoulders.

“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.

“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”

You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.

“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.

“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”

Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?

You were soon distracted though, giving your boyfriend a smile to try and cover up how exhausted you were, in every sense of the word. He greeted you with a warm hand along your lower back. He dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“Waiting long?” he asked.

“No, just a few minutes,” you shook your head. You laid a hand on his thigh when he took a seat next to you at the bar. “How was your shift?”

This week he was on three 12-hour shifts instead of his usual 24-hour shifts, which meant you got more of him in the evening.

“Fine. Just a couple of accidents to clear off the road, nothing major,” he replied. He ordered a beer from Ellen and gave Jo a smile. He was surprised to see mother and daughter working civilly together under one roof, after the scene he saw last week.

“How’s the studying going?” he asked Jo, once Ellen was out of earshot to serve further down the line. He turned to you and filled you in. “Jo’s gearin’ up to hit the Police Academy.”

“Oh wow, that’s great!” you remarked.

Jo glanced over at her mom, but then she smiled, looking back at you and Dean. She focused on him.

“The test is in a few weeks,” she said. “I think I’m ready, but I don’t know…”

“You’ll be fine,” Dean said, with easy conviction. “You’re stubborn enough to know it’s what you want. So I got no doubts about you.”

Jo’s smile was warm, with a hint of shy and gratefulness. You smiled at Jo encouragingly, but inside, you had a familiar unease churning inside your gut.

Dean then turned to you with expectant brows. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, curling it behind your ear.

“And how was your day?” he asked. His tone was quieter, laced with double meaning.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jo moving on to another waiting customer with a small sigh.

You met Dean’s gaze and you nodded. “It was fine.”

His brows rose a touch higher. “Very convincing. You took the taser with you, right?”

You sighed and had to smile a little. His concern warmed you, made you feel protected, even though you’d had to do that part yourself today. You soothed a hand over his chest, between the open panels of his plaid shirt.

“Yes, I did. I’m okay, baby. We’re at a standstill,” you said. And you reminded him, “I can handle myself, you know.”

Dean nodded, sighing through his nose. His hand rubbed up and down your back, whether to comfort you or himself, you didn’t know. Your fingers curled into his shirt, and you smiled up at him, just before you tugged him down for a kiss.

It was slow and sweet, until you became a bit more than sweet, grazing his bottom lip with your teeth. His hand came up to cup the back of your head as he accepted the warmth of your kiss.

You knew that you couldn’t tell Dean what happened this morning in your office. He’d likely go for the Halligan in his trunk and beat Nick Savage within an inch of his life.

While the idea appealed to you for several reasons, you didn’t want to be the reason Dean lost his badge, or ended up in jail.

So over a couple of drinks, you distracted him by having a healthy debate over what you two were going to have for dinner later: sushi or pizza.

You ultimately won with sushi. (Or maybe he let you win. Either way, you were getting salmon rolls tonight.)

Still, you had that uneasy feeling when you and Dean left the bar. You wondered how the hell it had taken you this long to notice the starry look of longing in Jo’s eyes.

You fell into step with Dean as you two headed for the sushi restaurant down the street. It was already dark out, but even on a Tuesday night, the streets and sidewalks of downtown were busy.

“Can I ask you something…potentially uncomfy?” you said.

Dean’s head turned to you, with a raised brow.

“Uncomfy?”

You let out a breath, and you could see it on the December chill in the air. Your hands were tucked into your pockets, and so were Dean’s in his.

“Did you and Jo ever have a thing?” you asked.

Dean blinked, but then his lips pressed together. “What makes you say that?”

You sent him a suspicious look. You’d known him long enough to know when he was hedging.

“Just please, answer the question,” you said.

He blew out a breath. After a moment, he nodded.

“Yeah, for a few weeks,” he admitted.

You sighed. That sure explained a hell of a lot. And really, with his track record, you couldn’t be surprised.

“You dated her, or you hooked up with her?” you clarified. Dean shot you a look.

“Dated,” he said, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Your brows furrowed. “When?”

He’d told you that he’d been in one relationship before, briefly…

“About a few months before I met you,” he said at last. But he saw the incredulous, almost upset look on your face. “Obviously it didn’t work out.”

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?” you asked. Your hands slipped out of your pockets to gesture at him. “How did it end?”

The man sighed, looking up at the sky.

“Come on, Dean,” you prodded.

“All right,” he placated with a hand. “It didn’t end great, put it that way.”

You couldn’t help a frustrated huff. You crossed your arms and kept walking beside him down the street, albeit in silence.

Dean glanced at you in slight exasperation. He was with you now. Why did it matter to you so much?

“She still has feelings for you,” you said, though you still weren’t looking at him.

“How do you figure?” he asked. But if he was honest, even he knew the truth.

“Because I could see her eyeing you like a honey glazed ham,” you snipped. At that, he let out an incredulous chuckle.

“Are you jealous?” he teased.

You stopped walking and looked up at him, frowning. “Do you want me to be?”

Dean stopped as well. He sobered, realizing you weren’t in the mood for jokes. You’d been through a lot recently, and he knew then that you didn’t need this kind of stress on top of everything else. He drew closer and gently grasped your arms.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. Though he thought to himself, I’ll talk to Jo if I have to.

Your lips pursed in frustration, but he soothed his hands up and down your arms. His touch plied you, along with his smile.

“Hey,” Dean said, dipping his chin so he could catch your eyes. “You should know how I feel about you by now.”

You sighed and nodded in agreement.

“Mhmm,” you replied.

He wasn’t satisfied.

“Okay, listen,” he said, squeezing your arms and earning your eyes on him. It took him a moment, letting out a breath, but he was honest.

“I love you," he reminded. "And if that damn elevator hadn’t broke down on you, I’d still be missing something in my life.”

…Damn it, you thought, even as a blushing smile grew across your face. Dean Winchester was too smooth for his own good.

But you also saw the sincerity in his eyes. You couldn’t help but be warmed by his words, down to your toes.

“There she is. All right,” he said with a grin. He nodded in satisfaction and gathered you into his arms. “My soft girl again.”

Your smile deepened, but you still pinched his side, making him flinch and laugh. You held him back and looked up at his handsome face. He still looked amused and his eyes were warm. You leaned up on your toes for a kiss that lingered on wind-chilled lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back, against his lips.

His smile against yours was your answer.

Two hours and two salmon rolls later, Dean drove you home. You had taken an Uber to the Roadhouse, which reminded him that he needed to make another trip to Singer Salvage.

He’d been scoping out potential cars to fix up for you. He’d even recruited Bobby’s help to find something good, something with strong bones. Dean could do the rest.

Even after he watched you get inside your house safely, he let out a subtle breath before he peeled away. He wished you were coming home with him tonight. More often, he was feeling your absence when you weren’t in his bed. But it also reassured him, that he knew you were safe with him and Sam at their apartment.

He later found his brother eating leftover chicken parmesan at the kitchen counter.

“Why’re you eating standing up?” Dean asked, tossing his keys onto the counter. He reached into the fridge for a beer. “You look like Big Bird if he wore a suit.”

Sam sent him a dry look. “I don’t know. Force of habit.”

He barely had time in his day for an uninterrupted coffee, let alone a meal. When Dean wasn’t here, Sam fell back onto his work habits. He took his plate and actually went to the table.

“You eat already?” he asked. Dean nodded and said he’d eaten with you.

“Oh yeah? How’s she doing?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed and sank down heavily onto the chair opposite his brother. He rubbed at his forehead.

“She’s okay, considering,” he replied. But he knew you hadn’t told him the whole story about how your day went at work. Whether you were trying to spare him, or protect him, or yourself, it still drove him up the wall. Knowing Nick Savage was still your boss, and he was there, an ever-present threat just a few floors above you in that building…

It made Dean’s skin crawl. It had his teeth grinding and coiled his spine tight with repressed rage. And worry.

He met his brother��s eyes. Sam had been watching him, hiding his wariness.

“What can we do about him?” Dean asked. He knew he didn’t have to explain who he was talking about.

Sam started to shake his head, but Dean wouldn’t have it.

“I mean it, Sam. Because I almost…” His hand and forearm clenched and unclenched on the table. He could almost feel the way his arm had pressed into Nick’s throat, slowly but surely crushing his trachea. Just a couple of minutes more, and Dean could’ve done it. In that moment, he saw it so clearly.

It was the first time he’d ever wanted to take a man’s life.

“I know,” Sam said. His brows furrowed in sympathy. “But you did the right thing.”

Dean’s lips pursed as his hand once again fisted on the table.

“If I hadn’t been there,” he said. “If I had been just a few minutes off…”

These were the what ifs that kept plaguing his mind, ever since the party. Sometimes, it added to the catalogue of waking nightmares that wouldn’t let him sleep.

“And now she’s gotta go back there, every day, where that animal is just waiting for an opportunity,” Dean gritted out. Then his fist dropped more heavily onto the table, rattling Sam’s silverware.

Sam held the table steady and looked at his brother, calm but firm.

“You can’t touch Savage,” he said. “Don’t even go near him. Whatever you do, he’ll use it against you, and potentially against her. Unfortunately, she’s got the best plan right now.”

Dean looked up at him with angry eyes.

“Wait him out,” Sam said, “until he makes a mistake he can’t easily cover up. In the meantime, she’ll find a new job and get the hell out of there.”

Dean forced a sharp breath through his nose. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fist more calmly on the table.

“I don’t have to like it,” he said.

Sam nodded in agreement. “No, you don’t.”

The fire was wild. It was eating up the four-story apartment building in a full blaze. The Truck 79 team was geared up outside of it, with Chief Singer already calling out instructions along with Dean.

Benny and the Rescue Squad were already on the roof, rappelling down to get the ones trapped on the top floors out through the windows. Dean was on the ground. He had Gordon, Jack, and a few others behind him. Meg and Chuck were on standby, waiting for the firefighters to pull out any residents still trapped inside.

Dean had to wonder if he was walking into another arson, like the Richardson fire. Against his will, he thought of that day. He thought about everything his father had told him about that arson, about Azazel and his mom’s death. He thought about you, working for a man who was potentially tied to Azazel.

“Winchester,” Gordon tapped him on the arm. “You good?”

Dean glanced over at him, then nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s rock and roll.”

When Dean was at work, he couldn’t let the outside world into his mind. All he could let himself focus on was the scene ahead after he put his mask on.

Inside the first floor of the building was like entering a living furnace. It was hot as shit, and layers of smoke choked the room. The mask was the only reason Dean could see, let alone breathe.

He turned to Jack. “All right, take it room by room. Stay close. We don’t got a lot of time.”

Jack nodded his agreement, and Dean split his team. A few of the others took the first floor on his orders. Dean, Gordon, and Jack would take the old stairs to clear the second floor.

Fuck. This whole place is just wood and plaster, Dean thought, shaking his head. These old buildings were all the same. Easy to build, easy to knock down. And usually they weren’t up to code, often thanks to cheap property owners.

He got apartment 201 open with his Halligan. The shoebox studio was smokey as all hell, but it was clear of any tenants. Gordon moved on ahead quickly, but Dean’s brows furrowed as he listened to the unsteady creaking of the floorboards. He moved more carefully forward.

Until he felt the warmth under his boots, saw the orange glow underneath a thin patch of flooring.

“Walker, wait!” Dean called, at the same time he held Jack back.

He reached out, just as the wood floor splintered and broke underneath Gordon. His eyes flashed wide just before he fell.

Dean dove for him. His Halligan clattered away, but he managed to grab onto the man’s sleeve before he disappeared. Gordon grabbed onto Dean’s arm and nearly pulled him down too. Luckily, he managed to grab onto the splintered edge with his other glove-covered hand. He gritted his teeth at the strain of the other man hanging off his shoulder, but he didn’t dare let go.

Jack grabbed Dean’s belt to keep him from sliding further down. It let him grab onto Gordon with both hands. The men panted for breath; Dean had a better vantage point to see that the middle of the ground floor below was engulfed in flames. The glow of it flared in the corner of Gordon’s eyes. He could feel the heat making both of them sweat.

The wood flooring under Dean creaked ominously, but before anyone could move, it broke further. He almost lost his grip on Gordon as his torso hung over the edge. He managed to get a new stronghold under the other man’s arm, and Jack did his best to keep Dean from falling by pinning his legs down. Jack was strong, but he was still a smaller man than Dean.

“Jack, call for backup!” Dean gritted out. Jack nodded behind him and radioed in for help.

Gordon stared up at Dean with wide, but resigned eyes. “The floor’s gonna cave before you can pull me up.”

Dean stared down at him, even as lines of sweat poured down his forehead from within his mask. They both knew that if that happened, Dean would be pulled along for the ride down, maybe even Jack too. Dean gave a sharp shake of his head.

“Just hold on. Backup’s comin’,” he said. All his strength was going into keeping a firm grip on the man’s arm and jacket. He called to Jack over his shoulder. “Can you get next to me and grab him?”

To his credit, Jack tried. But the jagged edges of the floor around Dean were unsteady, creaking and groaning under Jack’s added weight, a bit too much.

“Stop, stop!” Dean shouted, halting Jack’s movements.

Gordon licked his dry lips and blinked sweat out of his eyes. “This might be the part where you let go, Winchester.”

Dean took exactly a beat to process his shock. Then he glared down at the man.

“Shut the hell up, Walker. You don’t let go, you hear me?” he barked. “Jack, grab the back of my jacket and my belt.”

Jack followed the order, and a combination of him pulling Dean up and Dean straining every muscle he had to heft up Gordon slowly, painfully, brought them back up and over the ledge.

Jack had an easier time then of helping Dean pull Gordon the rest of the way out of the hole.

And the rest of their Truck crew came to help them onto their feet, before the fire consumed the rest of the second floor.

Once Dean was out of the building, he took off his mask and breathed in cooler air on his face. He made a beeline for the fire truck. In the back was a cooler, and grabbed a bottle of water to dump over his overheated head and face while he caught his breath. Gordon and Jack were following suit, and the men stared and one another. All of their faces said the same thing.

We made it. We’re alive. That was almost fucked.

Gordon’s gaze met Dean’s, sobering further. For a moment, he looked like he was searching for words.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked eventually.

Dean nodded, rotating his right arm. He was going to feel that bitch tomorrow.

“Fine,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Gordon nodded. Another hesitation, followed by an honest gaze. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s face broke into a smile, wry but also genuine. “Yeah, thank me by layin’ off the burgers.”

He swatted the other man’s stomach and went for three more waters. He handed two of them to Jack and Gordon. One was smiling, while the other just smirked and shook his head.

“You callin’ me hefty?” Gordon remarked. “I’m averaging 6% body fat, man.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, right. What’re you, the Rock? That’s why you almost sunk.”

He dropped his fist into the air and made an exploding sound. Jack was wide-eyed, but Gordon just chuckled. They started making their way to the front of the truck to start packing up their gear. The Truck and Rescue teams had done what they could, and all the residents that made it out of the building were being seen to by the paramedics.

“I’d rather be weighed down by muscle than all them Little Debbie’s you’ve been putting away at the station,” Gordon shot back. “Cheap cake is not your friend.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, that’s just uncalled for.”

“Dean,” Chief Singer called, beckoning him over with a hand. His free hand wore a glove as he held something steaming.

Dean nodded at his men and joined Bobby outside his department-issued SUV. Dean’s gaze focused on the bottle-shaped object in Bobby’s hand. There was a small digital box attached to the front, with wires wrapped around. The entire device was now blackened, but the smell of chemicals was unmistakable.

“Molotov cocktail?” Dean quipped, but his face was as grave as Bobby’s. The Chief nodded.

“Lafitte pulled this out of the fourth floor,” he said. “Looks like the same kind of incendiary device Arson found at the Richardson fire.”

That night, you made dinner for Dean at your house. He was forced to explain what happened at the apartment building, and why he had his arm pinned to his side like a chicken wing. You made him sit down and relax, all while you tried to hide your worry and relief that he was mostly all right.

Later in the living room, you sat on your knees beside him on the couch and lifted the bag of ice from his shoulder. You peered at it in concern, gently rubbing your hand over the joint and surrounding muscle. Dean sighed through his nose as your gentle touch was both soothing and painful.

“Are you sure you should do another shift tomorrow?” you asked, replacing the ice. He shot you a glance.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Right,” you said dryly. “That’s why you can barely move this arm.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made his point by raising his right arm, slowly, but easily back down.

“I’ll be up and running by tomorrow. Just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Dean, are you sure? You seem to be in a lot of pain,” you asked.

He tried to hold in his annoyance. “I think I’d know if I’m fine.”

“You forget, I know all too well what downplaying looks like,” you countered, giving him a chiding look. Dean didn’t appreciate it. He didn’t need you to mother him.

“This is my job, all right,” he said.

You gave him a steady look. Your hand moved up his shoulder to rest along the back of his neck. Your fingers slipped into his hair.

“I know that. But I’m allowed to worry,” you said. Your brows furrowed. “Please don’t get upset at me for that.”

Dean let out a breath. He relaxed against the couch and met your gaze. He knew he had no right to ask you not to worry about him.

“Yeah, okay,” he said.

To you, he still seemed a bit annoyed. You nodded and continued to gently sift your fingers through his hair. You had to wonder if his resentment was coming from a different place.

“Are you still mad at me for going back to work?” you tested.

Dean breathed out deeper this time, but he didn’t answer.

Bingo, you thought with a frown.

“Dean—”

“All I want is for you to be safe,” he said. His voice was harder as his face tightened up. His hand gestured in frustration. “This whole thing…that fucking douchebag…it’s killing me. Fucking killing me. And you know that.”

Your eyes softened, and you unconsciously bit your lip.

“Ditto,” you tried to joke. It landed flat, because your boyfriend was deadly serious.

He looked away from you with pursed lips and a frustrated shake of his head. You sidled closer to him and tried to soothe, with a hand on his chest.

“Look, I’m trying to find a new job, but it takes time,” you said.

“You could quit. You could quit right now,” Dean replied hotly.

You sighed; you couldn’t believe you had to remind him about this. “I can’t, Dean. I have bills to pay, just like you do. You think I like this situation any more than you? I’m the one who’s had to deal with this for months!”

“I know that!” Dean snapped back. “Or should I say, now I do.”

He pulled away from your touch and pushed off the couch, onto his feet. You looked up with your mouth agape as he left the room. You got up and followed after him.

“You’re leaving?” you asked in shock. You watched him grab his keys and his wallet from the kitchen counter.

“I’ve got a long shift tomorrow and I gotta sleep,” Dean said, rather gruffly.

You followed him all the way to the door, where you grabbed onto his wrist. He stopped in the doorway, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“Dean, please,” you implored. “Don’t go like this.”

After a beat, he seemed to soften. Just enough to lean over and press a brief kiss to the side of your head.

“I gotta go.”

He left you in the doorway with tears swimming in your eyes, and he pretended not to notice them.

When Dean woke up the next morning, his shoulder still ached, and he still felt guilty. He rubbed the offending join and tried to slowly roll the stiffness out of his arm. Fuck.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes next. They blearily took in the digital numbers on his alarm clock: 5:00 a.m.

He slid out of bed and got ready for work. He definitely wanted to check in with Arson about the device that likely started that fire, and he knew his dad would need to be brought in on it. It would give Dean a reason to press John for an update on his investigation.

By 6:00, he was finishing his coffee, about ready to head over to the station. He could hear the pipes running, meaning Sam was in the shower.

Dean was startled only slightly by his phone vibrating in his pocket. His brows furrowed, but he fished it out and found your name crossing the screen, along with a smiling picture of you. He sighed.

Part of him hesitated. If you were calling just to try and convince him to call out of work, he was going to get worked up again. And he’d rather not have anything disturb his first cup of coffee of the day.

Still, he answered. “Hey.”

“Dean, did you come into the house last night?” you asked.

He didn’t like the wary, almost scared tone of your voice.

“No.” His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Look at the text I just sent you.”

He put you on speaker so he could check his messages. Sure enough, he found a picture from you. It was of a glass bottle-shaped object on your nightstand. There was a black box attached, but its digital screen was blank. Dean’s breath caught in his lungs as his eyes widened. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Dean, what is this thing?” you asked. Your voice was shakier, more worried. “It looks like a bomb. And it smells awful, like chemicals.”

“Don’t touch it,” he said quickly. “Get out of the house…better yet, wait for me at your neighbor’s place. I’m coming over right now.”

And I’m calling Dad.

Dean tried his best to calm you while the police and the Arson Department swept your entire house for devices, fingerprints, and any other evidence on who broke in.

You had a hand over your mouth by the front door as you watched them turn over cushions, move tables and shelves, ruck through cabinets. Your entire life turned inside out.

Dean’s hand rubbed up and down your back. You eventually had to look away and sigh. You pressed closer to his side, and he wrapped his good arm around your shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said quietly, and kissed the top of your head. Inside, he was furious. Mostly at himself.

If anything had happened to you last night, after he left…he would’ve never forgiven himself.

So it was a welcome distraction when John and Cas’s police car finally pulled into the driveway. Dean led you outside, away from the chaos happening in your house.

“Hey, Dad,” he said, with a nod at Cas. Both men nodded back.

“Son,” John greeted, His brown eyes turned to you next. He offered you a hand. “Good to finally meet you, despite the circumstances.”

You blinked up at him and curled a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a bit nervously.

“Oh, it’s…it’s great to meet you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, sticking out your hand and shaking his.

A smile flickered across Dean’s lips. He realized then that this was the first time you were meeting his father. You were adorably nervous.

A reserved smile tugged at his father’s lips as well.

“John’s just fine.”

You smiled back, with a bit of a blush tinging your cheeks.

“Now, can you tell me what happened here?” John asked you, not unkindly.

Dean’s good humor faded away as he explained about the device left on your nightstand. He filled them in about the fire he’d responded to yesterday as well.

“What the hell is happening, Dad?” he demanded to know.

John let out a breath and nodded, swiping a hand through his dark hair.

“It’s another one of Azazel’s signatures,” he said, lowering his voice so only the four of them could hear. “It’s a message.”

“To who?” Dean asked.

“To me,” John said. “Warning me to back off the case…there’ve been other threats. I’ve finally got a police detail on Sam, and I just got approval for you. I’ll add her to the list.”

John glanced at you. Your eyes widened in confusion as you tried to hold in your fear.

“Who the hell is Azazel?” You turned to Dean. “Is this…does this have something to do with your mom’s killer?”

John’s brows shot up at his son. “You told her?”

“You’re over here talking about him too,” Dean retorted. He gathered you closer and met his father with steely eyes, to mask how his gut was churning with worry.

“You need to get this guy,” Dean said, almost through gritted teeth. “Get him now.”

John agreed with a nod.

Once again, you covered a trembling hand over your mouth. Dean squeezed your side a bit to earn your attention.

“I want you to come stay with me,” he said. His tone was boding no argument, not that you would. You nodded and fairly melted against him. Your head rested against his chest.

“Dean, this is insane,” you whispered.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know. I’m sorry…I’m so fucking sorry about this.”

You looked up at him, your brows furrowing. “It’s not your fault.”

Dean met your gaze, but he couldn’t quite believe you. He was the one who kept pushing his dad for answers, to let him in on this. This was his family’s bullshit, not yours. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into it too.

The spell between you two was broken by Cas, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“We do need to ask you some questions,” he said. “About Nick Savage.”

You frowned. You peeled yourself away from Dean enough to face the detectives.

“What does he have to do with this?” you asked.

“His company is linked to a money laundering scheme, which ultimately leads back to Azazel,” Cas explained. “But we’re having trouble getting through his wall of lawyers.”

You scoffed. “Not surprising.”

However, it did worry you that Nick was possibly doing business with a criminal. Not that that should surprise you either.

“What do you want to know?” you asked.

“Well, first of all, would you be willing to file a police report,” Cas said, more gently, “regarding your assault at his home.”

Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open slightly before you looked over at Dean. His face tightened, along with his hand on the curve of your waist.

“Why do you need me to do that?” you asked Cas.

“It’ll give us the leverage we need to dig deeper into his business,” John said. “Knock loose any shady dealings. We could get him to cough up what he knows about Azazel.”

You wanted to help, but at the same time, you were reluctant to mire yourself deeper in this. Dean saw your reservations, and he could guess why.

“Won’t that just paint a bigger target on her back?” he asked.

“We’re gonna protect her,” John promised. His eyes went from Dean, back to you. “But we need your help. This could be the break we need to get to Azazel. To find out who this bastard is.”

John could see your indecision. “All you need to do is fill out the report. Maybe get up in court to testify.”

You tightened up at that. “Testify?”

“If it gets that far,” John nodded.

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “That man can make my life hell without a serial killer’s help.”

You looked to Dean for support.

In the beginning, he had all but begged you to do what his father and Cas were asking. But now, this was just too much. He pressed you more securely to his side.

“Dean?” his father prodded.

“You heard her,” Dean said. “It’s her choice.”

You sighed and held onto the back of his shirt gratefully. The detectives shared a look, with John’s brows furrowing. He regarded you with a gruff, slightly strained look.

“Listen, don’t you want Savage in a cold hard cell?” he asked. “You could put him there.”

“Dad, she said no. Lay off,” Dean’s tone sharpened. Unfortunately, he knew how stubborn the man could be.

“Dean, I’m trying to nail this guy, but I’m missing pieces,” John said. “Right now, I can’t do it without her.”

“Well, figure it out,” Dean snapped.

John frowned in near disbelief. "Excuse me?"

“Look, I know where your priorities are, but mine is making sure she’s safe," said Dean. "If you can’t handle that, then we’ve got a problem!”

The strength of his retort took everyone by surprise, but no one more so than John. He hid it well behind a deepening frown.

He glanced between you and his son. You were looking up at Dean with unshed tears in your red-rimmed eyes, grateful, and holding on tight to his shirt. He still held you to him. His entire frame was tight and angry.

And John knew that he would react the same way, if he were Dean. He also knew then that he was pushing too hard.

So he sighed, and pulled out a card from his wallet. He handed it to you.

“I’m sure you’ve got Cas’s number already, but here’s mine,” said John. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“I’m sorry for invading,” you told Sam that night. He was helping you and Dean bring in your suitcases. You were pretty much moving into their apartment, indefinitely.

“You’re not,” Sam said, shaking his head. “We’re happy to have you here.”

You gave him a tired, thankful smile. “I appreciate that, thanks.”

“We’ll get to have an in-house chef,” Dean chimed in, earning more amused look from you.

“Need I remind you that I’m not an actual chef?” you said. You set down your smaller suitcase, full of shoes and toiletries, to grasp the front of his shirt. You leaned up on your toes and met him with a kiss. It was sweet, but it was also tender. His arms came around your lower back and pulled you flush against him.

He parted from you gently, afterwards pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a brief sigh through his nose.

“I’m sorry, about how I left last night,” he said.

You shook your head, despite the tears that wanted to burn in your eyes. You wanted to tell him, It’s fine. I’m fine.

But you couldn’t lie to him.

“You came back when I needed you,” you said instead. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his hand resting along the back of your neck. It was familiar, and soothing.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to move in,” he admitted. You chuckled wryly.

“Really,” he said. “…I was thinking of asking you. But not ‘til, you know, down the line.”

You softened at that. You raised up on your toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then you circled your arms around his neck and hugged him close. He held you back just as tightly.

“Thank you for always being there for me,” you said. He couldn’t see your smile, but somehow, he knew it was there. But he could also hear you sniffle, and feel your body tremble with tears.

“You’re safe here,” Dean said softer into your ear. “Nothing’s getting to you, all right?”

You nodded, pressing your face into his neck. He continued to say and do whatever he felt he had to in order to reassure you that night, and make you feel safe.

All the while, he was trying to reassure himself.

AN: *burrr* That tension, huh? What did you think of her finally finding out about Jo's lingering feelings, plus a bit of Dean's resentment, him and Gordon coming to an understanding, and the reader meeting John for the first time! 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Good news though. Next time, we'll take a huge break from all this drama and have a nice fluffy Christmas special. (Plus a healthy dose of spice. ❤️‍🔥)

Next Time:

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

Keep Reading: PART 15

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

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simplyzeeka · 1 day ago

Text

Ruffian

Part.1

Summary: Ryan has been living a lonely life on her farm for a decade now. With no family to seek company from, she developed a routine with just her and her animals, something that soothed her loneliness. Until her happiness came back a little earlier than expected.

Warnings: MDNI!!! Cussing, chaotic animals, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, p in v(no protection), face sitting if you squint. They just missed each other y'all 😔

A/n: So, uhmm. This was supposed to be straight fluff, nothing nasty at all. But sometimes, characters have a mind of their own.

5k+

Ryan always believed life in the countryside was much more peaceful. Although she hasn't even licked the city streets, she hears enough to have a clear and unbiased opinion about it. But that did not mean that the countryside did not have its chaos. “Daisy… Daisy! Come back here girl, where you goin’?”

And most of this chaos came from her small little farm, especially her Great Dane. If it weren't her chickens causing a ruckus, her sheep and goats were raining ditsy havoc. Her only peace came from her Friesian stallion, Ferris, always chewing on a bunch of hay in his stable away from the blasting heat.

Despite all this, Ryan loved her little farm. It was a place with many stories. Tragic and happy alike. She inherited the small plot from her grandmother who raised her into the woman she was, her parents having moved to the city since she was young as a way to send money back into the farm.

Ryan shook her head at her dog’s antics before turning back to the task before her. “Okay, Ro. We’re all done girl, you get some rest.” She spoke quietly to her cow, applying a post-dipping solution on each teat when the spotted animal did not have any more milk to give. Ryan took off her gloves and offered the cow a batch of hay, then left the stable after checking on Ro’s calf.

It was a rather long day, helping a cow give birth was the least of her expectations, luckily her grandmother had always prepared Ryan for such a situation. She carried the bucket of colostrum filled milk that would be used to feed the calf, but stopped to check on her Stallion. “What’s up big guy? Your water still good?” Ryan checked the stable for any irregularities.

Once satisfied she left the stable, securing the lash before a smooth velvet voice caught her attention. “That sissy still standin’? Thought he woulda been long dead.”

Ryan whipped her head behind her, there occupying the entrance of the shed. Worn out timbs and a pair of denim jeans that matched in condition. White wife beaters and a denim jacket over his shoulder, his signature silver chain hanging around his neck. Terrence Richmond was still as handsome as he was all those years ago.

“You lyin’ to me.” Ryan shook her head, eyes blinking slowly, there was no way he stood in front of her currently. It was too early, he wasn't supposed to be back until a few weeks. See, Ryan knew that she should stop smoking the pre-rolls that Willow always brought, they tended to leave her more paranoid than relaxed.

The smile he let out from her quiet whisper was enough to spark a flamelet to her, he really was here. Years and years of being separated and finally, he was in front of her. , “I’m right here, baby.” He dropped the bags in his hand and opened his arms.

It took a while for Ryan to react, rendered speechless just by the mere fact that he was here… with her and near her. Next thing one step turned into two, then three before she was spriniting in his direction. Ryan wasted no time locking her body around his, legs around his waist and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Terry held her even tighter, his hands gripping at her thighs so he could hold her up. A soft scent of cinnamon and peaches invaded his nose so delicately that he brushed his nose against her neck to inhale more of the sweet scent.

“I thought you was gon’ be out in a few weeks. I aint even prepare nothin’ for you, coulda held a party or somet-.”

Terry didn't allow her to finish, “Ry baby, I dont need a party. This is good, this is perfect.” Terry protested, honestly so because there was no better way than for him to celebrate his return than with his fiancé.

Ryan held his face, a small pinch between her brows as she inspected his face. “I coulda bought you somethin’ nice at least.”

Terry laughed, knowing that Ryan always wanted nothing more than to please. Her heart plummeted at the sound, she missed it… thought she'd never hear it again, but Terry had a way of always coming back to her. “God, I missed you, like a fish outta water.”

Their noses nudged as she spoke, until the distance between their lips became a little too much to bear and Terry pressed their lips together. He swallowed the sound of her content sigh, felt her relax as she leisurely responded.

The small flame in her heart spread to the rest of her body, little embers flicking off her body when his hands grabbed at her supple flesh intentionally.

Ryan grew into her womanhood, everything about her screamed ‘grown’ and Terry loved every moment of that realisation. Ten years… he hasn't seen his woman for ten years, didn't watch her grow and grow with her. But he had time to spare now, and he would be damned if he didn't spend it on Ryan.

It took being placed on a block of hay and Terry stepping between her legs that made her push him away gently. “Mmm wait baby, we can't. Ro just calved.” She explained breathlessly while playing with the charm on his chain.

“Ro? As in little Ro?” Terry asked shocked, “She getting down and busy?” Ryan rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder with a laugh. “Ro ain't so little no more. And, she been gettin’ down and busy. This her third baby.”

Terry immediately moved his body away from Ryan, running her fingers through his short curls. “Somebody got my baby pregnant?” He frowned at the declaration, no longer in the mood to get acquainted with Ryan’s body. This was big.

Ryan huffed at his Oscar winning antics. “Terry, please. She damn near eleven years old, and also a cow. Breedin’ is what they do.” She explained, not that she thought they had to, he knew what it was when he bought Ro. “Yeah, but not my Ro.”

Ryan cackled at that, he never failed to treat all the livestock on this farm like children… except her horse of course. She couldn't blame him, Terry and Ryan bought Ro off a cow breeder before he left for the military. They were only twenty years old, freshly engaged and had a dream to grow a farm together… their farm. Ro was their first cow, a big accomplishment because cows were expensive as hell.

“Okay, Soldier. Calm down.” Ryan got up from the hay and walked over to Terry. “How bout you help me carry the milk to the kitchen?” She suggested, pointing at the half full bucket of milk behind him.

Reluctantly, Terry obliged, he picked up the bucket and followed Ryan to the kitchen. She did some work to the small area, it looked different from the last time he saw it.

“You recolored?” He asked, placed the bucket on the floor before looking around. It smelled like freshly baked cookies, which didn't surprise Terry, he knew how much Ryan loved to bake.

“Mhm, got tired of the grey.” Ryan grabbed the bucket of milk and poured it in baby bottles for the calf when it woke up, she had fed it a while before it went into a deep sleep.

Terry couldn't help but to watch her, like really watch her. Her face, her hair, her skin. Everything about her. Dressed in a plain shirt, the front of it tied in a knot, showing a bit of her stomach. Flared jeans that hugged her thighs enticingly. As always, Ryan wore a low cut, stetson hat on her head, she wouldn't leave the house without one on.

She looked good, damn good and Terry found himself unable to keep composure again. A few tentative steps was all it took until he was behind her. His hands placed on her hips while his fingers dig into her belt loops as to pull her hips into his.

Ryan let out a soft laugh when she felt tickling kisses behind her ear travelling to her neck. He smelled like he always did. Honey and a hint of musk. “I'm tryna concentrate, Terrence.” Ryan began, not detering from her task, just as stubborn as Terry was on his because he didn't let up on her. “You can do this later. Come on, Ry. I miss you.”

Ryan shook her head, this was important, the baby needed their milk. “And I got you later. Gon’ make you dinner and everythin’.” She turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with the little curls on the nape of his neck.

Terry sighed and looked down at her. She was so pretty. Her cheeks softly filled out, cheekbones lifting as she smiled. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from letting out a soft grunt of frustration, how was he supposed to hold off when she looked this good.

“Alright, I'ma hold you to that.” He nodded, sending a small smack to her ass and a kiss to her plump lips. “Anything you need me to help with?”

“Can you check on Ro?” Terry nodded in agreement, pecking her lips one more time before retreating from the kitchen, “Yes ma'am.”

Time passed slowly, that when evening rolled in, Ryan was already spent from her day. She made sure that Ro and her calf were settled in for sleeping as all her other babies. As usual, her chickens gave her more of a run around, but Terry helped put them in their coop.

She had just finished with dinner, opted for a bit of a full plate as Terry's first proper meal since being back.

He was currently in the shower washing the day away while she got the table ready. She had Janet Jackson playing in the background, something she always did to decompress from a busy day of farm work.

“Terry! Come on now. The food gettin’ cold.” She called out, impatiently seated, waiting for him so they could eat.

“I'm here, I'm here.” He rushed down the stairs. His heavy steps creaked on loose floorboards. He marvelled at the effort that Ryan put into making such a vast dinner for him. Terry couldn't remember the last time he's had a proper meal straight out the pot.

“Smells good baby.” He complimented, landing a peck on her cheek before he took a seat in front of her. “Looks good too.”

Ryan smiled in appreciation, “Thank you, baby.” She did a little jiggle at the compliment, causing Terry to laugh endearingly. “Alright, let's eat. I'm hungrier than a tic on a teddy bear.”

And at that they dug in. Ryan and Terry caught up with everything they have missed together. Ten years, and Ryan still couldn't help but feel like a giddy school kid around Terry. He always had that effect on her, and something told her that he always would.

Terry ate like a man starved and Ryan used this time he was distracted to admire him. He gained muscle… a lot of muscle. While he wasn't necessarily a man of small stature, Terry came back with his clothes stretched out. She eyed his prominent veins pop out everytime he flexed his arm even the slightest.

He trimmed his beard out and kept his goatee. It was a small change, but a nice one. She remembered constantly calling him ‘patchy’ back when he was trying to fully grow it but it wouldn't grow the way he liked it.

Once dinner was done, Terry offered to wash the dishes since Ryan cooked. “You go get the bed ready, pretty. I'ma be up there in a few.”

Ryan nodded and her small feet pattered up the stairs to her bedroom. She made sure to turn the ceiling fan on, the heat making her a little irritated. “Hotter than satan’s crack.” She mumbled lowly, naive to the presence in the room.

“Wouldn't be feeling so hot if you got out those jeans.” Terry commented from behind her, arms wrapping around her torso. “You tryna get me out my clothes, Mr. Richmond?” She turned to face him, hands rested against his ripple chest.

Terry playfully shook his head, nudging his nose against hers. “Nah, I wouldn't dare, Mrs. Richmond.”

Fuck she loved that, she couldn't wait until she could become that formally. Ryan landed a kiss on his lips, missed that. Missed kissing him so much, touching him and loving him.

The kiss picked up pace. While Terry had always been an impatient man, the time they have spent apart left him with an insatiable hunger. Ryan breathed him in, cupping his lower jaw as to pull away slightly for some air. Terry chased her lips, not giving a damn about breathing with Ryan this close in his proximity.

They crashed together again, then stumbled everywhere in the room. Terry tapped her thigh twice, before he rested his hands on the underside of her thighs and picked her up with ease, and on the bed he laid Ryan gently.

Her hands fumbled with her belt buckle, not wanting to waste anymore time talking and laughing. She wanted him, in every way he came to her.

Terry took over, gently removing her hands and undid the buckle himself, except he took his time. Once the leather was gone, he unbuttoned her jeans with his teeth, sliding them down her thick thighs along with the orange lace panties that he wished he had taken the time to appreciate on her.

Ryan was breathing heavily, watching as Terry kissed on her exposed stomach. He was serenading her with his lips, silently telling her how much he missed her.

The pillows of his lips moved from her stomach, down to her pelvis. He kissed the visible scar on the soft skin, one she got when she tried shaving without any guidance for the first time.

By the feel of his lips moving lower, Ryan was too anticipated to let him do what he wanted. She wasn't in the mood for foreplay.

“Terry, I don't need that now.” She whispered as she rested on her elbows, looking down at the earthiness of his eyes. Fuck him for being so beautiful.

“Hm? What you need then?”

Ryan shook her head, she knew what he wanted. He wanted her to explicitly tell him what she wanted. But how could she so boldly tell him that she wanted to be stuffed with his dick.

“Closed mouths don't get fed, baby. Gotta let me know what you want so I can give it to you.”

“I can't, T.” She reasoned softly.

“Yes you can, I know you can. You know why? Cause you're my baby, and my baby listens.”

Ryan sighed heavily, unable to understand why he couldn't just fuck her and call it a night. Now he was bringing all this Military obedience bullshit to her at the worst of times. It frustrated her.

“Terry, come on. Please.”

He noted her frustration, sighed in disappointment before he stood to his full height. “Okay baby.”

“We'll fix that some other time.”

And she knew that was a promise he was going to keep. Ryan smiled in relief, gasped suddenly when he kissed her feverishly.

This kiss was sloppy. They nipped at each other's lips before Ryan granted him access into her mouth.

And inevitably, allowed entrance into her leaking folds as well.

It wasn't just his muscles that grew, his dick seemed to have gained an extra pound as well because it laid heavy inside her, stretching her out that she knew nobody would ever be able to fill his space, not that she wanted anybody to.

Ryan struggled to take it, regardless of the face that he was going slow, she still couldn't take it. The mushroom of her tip brushed carelessly at the soft tissue of her spot at every thrust, it had her recoiling backwards everytime he pulled out.

“Don't piss me off, Ryan. You wanted this right?” Terry gritted out, his grip on her hips tight as she rolled his hips up into her yet again. Slow, deep strokes. Just as she liked. “Hm? Answer me, baby.”

Her pussy was gold. Always has been, always will be. Ryan had no right to grip at him like that and expect him to let her run. You couldn't offer somebody candy and expect them not to indulge, it was inhumane, at least to Terry it was.

He had her holding her legs, presenting herself to him so she could watch where their hips met without obstruction. Ryan's essence pooled around her thighs and Terry's, leaked out everytime he pulled out the piping heat of her pussy to where his tip is all that stayed, before he dove his heavy dick back inside her so he could kiss her insides.

“Fuck. Y-yes I did.” Ryan managed to respond, her brows drawn together, her eyes too stuck on where they connected. Watched as rings of cream coasted the thick base of his dick. “Fat fuckin’ dick. Oh my… yess.” She whispered softly, throwing her head back, her grip on her thighs tightened ever so oftenly.

“And you love me, hmm baby? You love me don't you?”

“Yes yes yes yesss. Love you so much. Oh my God.” Ryan looked up at him with teary eyes.

“So don't run from what you love baby, don't run from me. Take this dick, there you go, girl. Pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

He fucked like a grown man now too. Before he left, Terry and Ryan had good sex, she wouldn't dispute that. But it never felt like this, he definitely missed her, and he sure as fuck was showing her just how much.

“So deep, so fuckin’ deep, T. Just like that.”

“Yeah? In your stomach baby?” Terry watched where his dick poked out on her stomach. But Ryan shook her head dumbly, he felt way beyond that. “In my- shittt. In my heart.”

“In your heart?” Terry laughed, the sound causing Ryan's walls to pulsate around as they clenched. That drew a hiss out of Terry before he continued. “Dick got you talkin’ dumb baby.”

Ryan moaned at that. Fuck she liked that, she liked that a lot. It made her ooze more of her juices, down her ass and onto the bed.

“Ease up mama, let me in.” Terry groaned, struggling to dig her out the way he wanted to because she gripped at his dick so tight, sucking him in with every thrust. “Open up, Ryan. Let Daddy in.”

“Shittt.” She creamed at that. Fuck he was so sexy, so so sexy she wanted to give him children. Ryan tried to open up more, but the heaviness of his dick made it hard. He was impaling her, and he expected her to make that easier for him?

Terry wrapped her legs around his waist, leaned lower, his elbows near either side of her head. Their foreheads touched and Ryan wasted no time touching on him.

He was angled so much deeper like this, but that wasn't what had her heart pumping. The way he looked at her, while slowly pumping her full of dick had her reciting her love for him all over again.

“I love you, love you so fuckin’ much, T.” She spoke with her eyes stuck on his, hands caressing his jaw as her mouth fell open at his pace. “Fuck yesss.”

“Fuck this pussy magic. Wanna die in it, wetting me up so good. Pretty baby, you so pretty Ry. You hear me? So so pretty. Love you, till death yeah?.”

And she believed him, believed that he would die for her because Terry has shown her his love, showed her that she deserves that kind of love, and that kind of love deserved her.

“Oh my God… I'ma cum. I'm cummin’ baby.”

“I know, I feel it baby, I feel you. Let it go, cum on your dick mama.” He coached her, leaving kisses on her face as he maintained the pace of his hips. He whispered profanities and sweet everything's in her ear as Ryan squeezed around him.

“Fuck fuck fuhhh. Oh my God, I love you.” She gasped when she gushed on him heavily. Her cum leaked out of her, damn near pushing Terry out of her walls. He fucked her through it, kissing her slightly sweaty skin.

He pulled away from her, rubbing her thighs lovingly and watched as she caught her breath. “Turn over, I ain't done.” Terry sent a small smack to the side of her thighs and laughed when he heard her whine but still as obedient as ever, oblige to his command.

On her elbows and knees, Ryan spread her legs slightly, earning an appreciative hum from Terry as he gripped at her plump ass.

“Look at you.” He said, eyeing the slick that covered her heat before blowing on her swollen bud. “She missed me, hmm?” he asked no one in particular, yet still, Ryan responded with a silent “Yes, Sir.” that had Terry grabbing the base of his dick. The sound of her accent didn't make this any better.

He sent a long stripe from her clit to her pulsating hole. Sucked her bud into his mouth and gave her pussy lazy kisses that left Ryan leaking again.

Ryan gripped at the sheets in front of her. This man was insatiable, and she knew that there was a long night ahead of her, if not a few days as well. “Shit shit shit, like that. Just like that.”

He hummed against her, the vibrations creating pressure waves inside of her, amplifying the pleasure that was being sent to her brain. “Taste so fucking good, look at this shit.” Terry said and spread her lips apart, before diving back in, slipping his pink muscle inside her and exploring more of her taste.

Ryan's thighs shook, almost causing her to fall out of the position. “Keep that fucking arch, Ryan. You hear me?”

She whined in response, pinched her eyes together from the slight overstimulation.

Terry was a noisy eater, slurping and slipping. Didn't even mind moaning at her taste, occasionally praising how much she got wet, how pretty her pussy looked, how much he loved her.

Once he was done with his oral loving, he teased Ryan's entrance with his tip. Slapped it against her clit a few times before sliding it between her folds.

Once he slowly plunged into her slowly, he threw his head back and whimpered shamelessly. The sound made Ryan smile to herself, loving how he expressed himself freely in that sense.

“Fuckk, not sure if I can hold off mama.” She muttered, pulled out then plunged back in again, the sight made his dick twitch. “Can't believe I went ten years without this pussy. Never again, okay baby?”

Terry began the relentless thrusting. Pulled her hips back against him, watching the recoil of her ass in appreciation. “Never again. Gon’ die in this shit if I have to.” His bottom lip sank between his teeth, watching himself enter her with more and more cream decorating his veiny dick.

Ryan was at a loss of words, couldn't speak as tears filled her eyes. Dick couldn't be this good. She understood now why women often fought for their men, there was no way she's ever letting up on this. Terry would get fucked up for even doing something as stupid as think of getting with another woman.

Naturally, she threw her ass back on him, because she missed him. And he deserved this, deserved so much more. “Fuckkk that's it, show out mama. Take your dick, just like that. Taking me so good, it's yours ain't it?”

The sound of skin clapping and squelching could be heard in the room, accompanied by the sound of their persistent moans and whimpers. Their declarations of love and praises.

“So big, stretchin’ me so much. Fuck, let up Terry.” Ryan cried out, reached behind her to push against his stomach. Terry ignored that, instead, he just slid back in deeper. He angled his hips that made him kiss her cervix with so much pressure. Ryan opened her mouth agape and her arm fell forward to grip the sheets.

"Why you fucking me like this?" She moaned out elongated, using the leverage of her elbows to pull her hips away from him. "Cause you deserve it. You deserve this nut, baby." Terry gritted out, so concentrated at the work he was putting between her thighs, watching the mesmerising waves on her ass every time their skin slapped. "Working so hard every damn day, takin' care of the house, the farm. You don't gotta worry bout that no more though, cause Daddy's home. You hear me, Ry?" Terry angled his hip in a way that dug her out in a way that would have had her promising babies, but she held off.

All she could do was nod, grip the sheets harder. Her moans leaking out her mouth like the faucet between her legs. "Mh mh, say it. Say Daddy's home baby."

“Daddy’s home… fuckkk daddy's home. I'm bout to cum.”

“Right behind you baby, cum with me baby. Hold it just a little longer.”

Ryan tried, she tried so hard to listen but she couldn't hold it. She began squirming on him, yelling chants of ‘I love you's’.

The feel of her clenching sent Terry over the edge. “Fuck fuck fuckk, I'm cummin’.” He grunted before he spilled inside her then fucked his nut inside her.

The two gathered their breath, catching a sense of time and space while coming down their highs.

Once Terry pulled out, Ryan believed she was done. “Sit up baby.” Terry called out gently, rubbing her back gently as she moved around the bed.

Once she was sat on the bed, she was face to face-to-face with his slick covered dick. He definitely was bigger, and the sight of his cum mixed with hers had her mouth watering.

Ryan looked up at Terry, the corners of his lips lifted slightly. “You okay?” He asked for assurance to continue first, the ball was in her hands.

Ryan eagerly nodded. She wanted this, needed this even. “Clean me up then.” he ordered.

Hesitantly, she wrapped her hands around him. Even with both hands, his head still peaked out. The weight of it felt tantalising.

“Don't play around with that shit, Ry. Eat it up.”

Immediately, her lips wrap around his head, sucking gently. Her eyes met his when her tongue poked out to lick from her shaft to the base. They tasted good together, like a match made perfectly in heaven.

Ryan slid her mouth around him, sliding her lips lower as she inhaled. Her hands wrapped around what she couldn't fit into her mouth. He felt heavier on her tongue. “That's right, nice and slow. Ain't goin’ nowhere mama.” Terry watched with his lip caught between his teeth.

His brows furrowed as she took him with skill, just as he taught her all those years ago. Ryan began bobbing her head, her eyes already getting teary at the way he stretched her mouth open.

“Just like that. My baby getting me right. Take what you need.”

Ryan picked up the pace, slurping at his dick like it was her last meal, slowly easing him deeper in her throat, her nose slowly inching towards his pelvis.

“Look at you. Nasty ass, you love this dick Ryan?”

She nodded her head, hummed in response as well knowing that would drive him crazy. By now, she was damn near deep throating him, his tip kissing the back of her throat.

Ryan clenches her throat around his head which causes Terry to buck his hips forward. Ryan pulled away to get some air, breathing loudly as her hand twisted around the weight of the muscle.

She tapped the head against her tongue before sliding it back into her mouth.

Terry laughed, he wanted to be gentle, wanted to let her do her thing. But now she had him worked up, teasing him as if she wanted him to show out.

Gripping the back of her head, Terry pulled her away from him, before guiding her back towards his head.

“Breathe, baby. Breath.” He instructed, watching as Ryan nodded in understanding.

Terry slid into her mouth, watching her jaw relax as she breathed, right until her nose touched his pelvis. He heard her gag and relieved her by pulling out.

Tears adorned her eyelids, falling when she blinked up at him with spit running down her chin. “So good baby, you think you can do it?”

Ryan nodded her head. “Yeah, I can, promise. Please.”

“Mhm, ‘course you can.” He said before siding back into her mouth. “Love being slutted out, don't you mama. Mi get yuh, baby.”

The patois, fuck the patois. It wasn't often that she heard it before he left, only ever when he was angry. Then he spoke in patois, but during sex? Ryan has never heard it, and she's not sure she wanted him to stop.

Ryan hummed around his dick. He used her mouth for good measure. “You so pretty like this.” He praised as his thrusted into her mouth gently, loving the sight of her lips wrapping around him.

Ryan did a few tricks with her tongue, drawing him closer to his orgasm. “Fuckkk Ry. Fuck baby, I'm bout to nut. You gon catch it?” He asked breathlessly, brows pinched together as his grip on her head tightened.

Ryan moaned around him, her hands rested on top of his thighs. The room filled with sounds of gagging and Terry's moans.

It didn't fall unnoticed to Terry the hands that rested between Ryan's legs. She was playing with herself, smearing his nut between her fold as she rubbed leisure circles on her sensitive bud. Perhaps she liked Terry in her mouth more than she thought she did.

Terry laughed at that sight, pulled out of her mouth and heard as she gasped to take a breath. Ryan chased the head of his dick, clearly not happy with how soon it ended, he didn't even cum yet. Despite all the spit running down her chest and the tears that filled her eyes, she still wanted more.

Terry teased her, pulling her head back everytime she got close to having him back in her mouth. “Terry, come on.” She whispered desperately.

Hr knew she could get down and grimey if she wanted to. Terry knew that Ryan could fuck him to sleep if she wanted to, if only she could stop being so shy. They'd get there though, he'll make sure of it.

“It's right there baby, go head and take it.” He urged, tilting her head to see her face better. “Or you want me to give it to you?” Ryan immediately nodded her head, she liked him being rough, taking what he needed because he knew she would do nothing but give.

“You lazy as fuck Ryan. Daddy gon get you right, though.”

His hand let go of her hair, wrapped his hand around her neck instead, squeezed just enough to slow down the blood from going to her head.

Ryan felt a little lightheaded when Terry pulled her up to where she stood on her feet. Her hand wrap around his wrist, her eyes crossed eve so slightly when he squeezed tighter. “Fuck.” She whispered.

Terry pecked her lips. Once, twice, and a few more times. “You okay, baby?” He asked, releasing some tension on her neck but kept his hand there.

“Mhm, I'm fine. Thank you.” She smiled tiredly.

“Good. Cause I aint finished. Come sit on my face.”

“Terry. I'm tired, I got a lot of work tomorrow.” She shook her head incredulously. There was no way he could possible have that much energy. What water are they giving these men in the military?

“And ain't I say Daddy's home?. I'ma help with all that.” He tapped her thigh.

Ryan sighed and climbed over him on the bed, hovered over his face slightly, clearly worried about suffocating him.

“Don't play with me, Ryan. I said sit.”

Ryan rolled her eyes, happy he couldn't see her. “Sir, yes Sir.” She mumbled before lowering on his perfectly sculpted face, his eyes gazing up at her as he munched away between her thighs.

Taglist:

@blyffe @peachbutterfly-blog @browngirldominion @blackmoonchilee @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @earthchica @nayaesworld

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed. Comment if you want to be on my permanent taglist.

#terry richmond #terry richmond fanfiction #aaron pierre #terry richmond x oc #terry richmond x black oc #black female oc #black women #black!fem!oc #terry richmond fic #aaron pierre x black!oc #aaron pierre fanfic #terry richmond smut #they nasty #im nasty #we all nasty

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soleius · 2 years ago

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🫶🏻 astro observations II;

wheww back with another observation post

you guys really blew up my first one and im very grateful you were able to resonate and have discusions hehe

it genuinely made me happy ;w;

so again like before, these are all for entertainment! take what resonates and if something doesn’t lets talk about it beloww

alright enjoy friends 💞

for almost all aquarius and scorpio’s i’ve met theyre either open to astrology or are completely opposed to it, hyper fixated on calling it bs without willingness to at least listen to the complexities that they’re not “just a scorpio or aquarius” but they have traits and qualities of other signs due to degrees, decans, house etc..

cancer moons, i love you guys sm but at the same time once someone's hurt you, you never go on to forgiving them even if you say you have

i’ve noticed a lot of 1st house stelliums/inner planets in the 2nd house, have full lips? like they’re really nice and plush and plump? ofc other placements can indicate that but yeah

cancer mercury's have really nice voices, soft and calming

almost all gemini placements i know are well groomed; hairs done well, nails are nicely kept, and if not theyre typically dressed well too

if theres one sign that reminds me of hard work and consistancy it'd be sagittarius in the big 3 , and i feel like it goes unnoticed?

neptune 1st house placements, how often do you get projected on by others whether its by friends, close aquantences or even family? or even after awhile of getting to know you suddenly they go, "oh i thought you were like..?" and how does that affect you? its important to remember to not take what they say about you as truth, just because they thought of you one way doesn't mean you're actually that way.

venus square/opposition saturn, my babies you guys deserve love, so much love. and no, love isn’t conditional you don’t have to give or do something to get it. you can receive love for being as you are. when venus harshly aspects a planet such as saturn, known for restriction, individuals often feel like it hard to be loved or even in love. this can also manifest into low self-esteem, and even self-image. its important to know that you are capable of being loved for who you are and love will eventually come. "love myself" is a theme in your life time, and is a concept you'll have to work on in all aspects to you. ofc this also applies to other venus aspected to saturn, its just squared and opposition babies have it slightly harder.

previous / next

#astrology observations #astro community #astro observations #astrology #cancer mercury #1st house stellium #neptune 1st house #1st house neptune #venus square saturn #venus opposite saturn #venus saturn aspect #cancer moon #2nd house placement #aquarius #scorpio #sagittarius #gemini

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umitsy · 6 months ago

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warnings: few people being rude with reader, love obsession mentions

reader's gn

You were in need of a job, a job related with the kitchen, your greatest love ever since you learnt how to make the basics from your direct family.

They'd inspired you and helped you pursue your dream to become a cheff. You graduated from a pretigious university with the help of a scholarship that you managed to sustain sacrificing some relations in the way. Not that it really mattered to you—you now needed a job.

As if the universe heard you, as you walked your way to your small department, you read a flyer requesting people with high knowledge in kitchen, either cooks or waiters/waitress. It was emitted by a three-star-michelin-ranked restaurant at your city's heart.

This would be your greatest opportunity to shine right away!

You applied for a cheff position, managed to pull off everything you knew perfectly fitting the restaurant's strict conditions and overwhelmingly severe environment.

It was difficult to adjust, first—by your schedule changing drastically as some days you'd have to stay longer than expected—then, because of the harsh politics to do not miss any piece of the uniform any time you were working, you had to be spotless and use gloves while plating certain dishes or washing your hands as soon as you touched a vegetable to grab another.

But as your passion for cooking could only grow wider, everyone around you seemed to respect and slowly you made a name of yourself—as an equal of the main cheff but maybe a little bit more compassionate—some coworkers would tell you.

You never really asked about him, you were focused solely in completing flawlessly with your daily routine and as you reached your first year working there, you were free to experiment and create new dishes you seemed suit to the restaurant's theme.

Nonetheless, Ender, had unequivocally heard about you, and even if he couldn't be as present as he wanted to because of the many events he was invited to attend in different countries—he did his best to know at least a little about each and every one of his employees.

'How ever could his restaurant reach that recognition if he couldn't form the perfect team for success?'

That's how he found himself enamoured by you, your hard work had gained countless of new regulars which surely were worth the headaches by some encounters some waiters have had from their rude behaviours, 'how did you handle them so well? How could you see your companions best working conditions and abilities to exploit them just as well as you could?'

Even if he surely tried his best sometimes to get along with some costumers—if someone ever dared to judge his cooking—he'd send them straight out of his restaurant.

About his teammates... that's one of the things about being alone that he was mostly happy with now that he'd reached the highest ranking out there as a cheff—he didn't have to deal with annoying people who could only intervine with his impecable work.

Yes, he had to form the dream team of the restaurant by himself, but he didn't need to speak with those people directly, he only read about their qualities and pair them up as he seemed fit.

Until his curiosity won the best of him and decided to pay a visit to meet you, specifically.

Once he sees your sweet smile while teaching a new recruite how to take care of the pans and pots properly, when you were smiling while hearing complaints straight to your face—apologizing and coming back with an improvement in the dish some dickhead ordered—he'd get in a trance.

𐂐 He could now only think about you and how much he wanted to put an end to his long run as a lonely cheff and be his companion.

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southasiansource · 1 year ago

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RATNA PATHAK SHAH as HEMLATA MANSUKHLAL DHOLAKIA || Happy Family: Conditions Apply (2023)

[Image ID: five gifs from Happy Family: Conditions Apply, episode 1.07, "A Reception and a Deception." Pinkesh, a potential groom for Ayushi, is telling the table what his idea of beauty looks like.

GIF 1: Pinkesh standing at the Dholakia table, pinching his index finger and thumb together as he says, "You see, the beauty of a woman is measured by the length of her hair."

GIF 2: Hemlata leaning back in her chair, giving him a faux-fascinated look as she innocently asks, "and, beauty of gents?"

GIF 3: Pallavi whispering to Tisca that, "Ab Baa phategi." The translation reads, "Now, Baa will go off." The gif switches to show Tisca nodding in agreement, looking amused.

GIF 4: Hemlata standing, still giving Pinkesh a saccharine smile as she says, "Is that measured by length of his tindora?" The subtitle reads, "Is that measured by length of his ivy gourd?"

GIF 5: Tisca's mouth dropping open as her eyebrows fly up, looking down as she tries to compose her smile. The gif switches to Pallavi who ducks her head, balancing her temple on two fingers as she smiles in exasperated amusement.

/end ID]

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dfortrafalgar · 8 months ago

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I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Law x Fem Reader

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read these warnings before reading this fic. Genuinely, I implore you. I started writing this fic on a whim a few weeks ago, when I was contemplating my own experiences with reproduction-related health conditions such as the one that will be addressed later on in this story (endometriosis). Reproductive education and health is something that I feel very strongly about, and I feel that topics such as pregnancy complications and loss aren't addressed enough in media for fear that they're too taboo or shocking. Which, to be fair, is true, at least for the shocking aspect. Pregnancy loss is difficult, traumatic, and life-changing, for better or for worse, truly dependent on the person and the world around them.

Now you might be wondering... why would you drag one piece into this? well, i don't know. i felt like it, perhaps. Law is a character who resonates very deeply to me, his character is emotionally complex and layered, and imagining him in a scenario like this one became very interesting to me. Combine that with everything i stated above and taddaa, you get this fic.

this story does and will eventually have a happy ending (a very happy ending!) however it will take a bit to get there. this is a multi-chapter fic that i'm moving from my ao3 to my new blog, and the same warnings there apply here.

if this fic doesn't seem like your cup of tea, i encourage you to check out some of my other fics on my blog. i have a few law/readers that are tooth-rottingly fluffy and much more feel good.

with all that out of the way, thank you for reading.

Chapter 1

[Next]

The air in the room was as stifling as a sauna from the stress and anxiety filling the air. It was so silent, the tiles surrounding the small area blocking any and all noise from outside. The door was closed, caging you in.

You were sitting on the toilet lid, your hands rapidly perspiring and your whole body shivering with nerves. Across from you, your husband had his arms crossed, his head hung low, his heel bouncing off the floor. The tension was unlike anything you had ever experienced, however this had unfortunately become the norm for the past six months.

On the side of the sink sat a long white stick. Neither of you wanted to look at it.

“Do you think it’s ready now…?” you asked, inwardly cringing at how pathetic and weak your wobbly voice sounded.

Law picked his head up, his golden eyes creased in profound concern and worry. “It should be. Five minutes, right?”

“I think so,” you replied. With a trembling hand, you grabbed the stick from the counter. Law watched your every movement with a close eye. With a deep breath, you flipped over the test and gazed at the result window.

A single red line.

After the last failed attempt, you made a joke that you didn’t have any more tears left in you to cry, but clearly that wasn’t the case as fat, salty tears rapidly welled in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks. Law immediately knew what the result was the second your lips twitched downward. His heart sank into his stomach, immediately stepping toward you, grabbing the test from your hand and blindly chucking it into the small garbage can in the corner. He knelt on the floor in front of you to pull you into his chest.

“Damn it…” you whimpered. Your body forced you to take a shuddering inhale before sobbing an anguished, “FUCK!!!!”

Law’s heart broke. He didn’t even know what to say to comfort you anymore. 6 months of failed attempts at conceiving a very wanted baby had caused nothing but pain to both of you. You had both been scientific about the process. All birth control and protection was ceased, and the two of you were religiously tracking your cycle to make sure you would try during your ovulation window, but nothing but failure after failure showed up.

You thought you were broken.

Law thought he was broken.

You wept into his shoulder, your body shuddering with each pained sob that crawled from your sore throat. Law’s hands were frozen around you, firmly gripping your back. You couldn’t see the tears that were forming in the corners of his stern eyes, biting his lip and forcing every muscle in his face to prevent those tears from slipping downward. The last thing you needed was to see him cry, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold it in.

“Law…” you whimpered into his shoulder.

Law stayed silent.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he quickly retorted, cutting you off. He felt you lurch in his arms. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault… it’s…”

Now you stayed silent.

Law took his own shallow inhale. “I… don’t know.”

For one of the only times in Law’s life, he was rendered completely incapable of speech. Normally calm and analytical, looking for every possible solution or reason for an issue, he was now left completely helpless to the crashing waves of sheer dejection. As your quivering body clung to him like a lifeline, his entire brain was scrambling for some sense, any logical thought, for the current predicament, but it was starting to become glaringly obvious to both of you.

It was very likely one of you was infertile.

When you finally picked your head up from his shoulder, Law’s previously broken heart fractured into even more irreparable pieces.

Your eyes were puffy, swollen and bloodshot from your tears. Your entire face looked bloated from the force of your crying, and you were clearly flushed. You looked, for lack of a better word, completely miserable. Law helped you stand from the closed toilet seat, keeping your eyes away from the trash can where the negative pregnancy test lay on top of discarded tissues and makeup wipes, to guide you to your shared bedroom. Neither of you had to say a word, you knew he was going to put you into your shared bed and let you get some much-deserved rest after the stressful eternity (10 minutes) you had just endured. It was almost 8:00PM anyway, and regrettably, both of you still had work the following day.

You didn’t fight it when Law eased you down onto the mattress by your shoulders. You kept your eyes pinned closed, not wanting to let your husband see any more of your beaten state. You rolled over onto your side and hid in your pillows. You didn’t hear Law mention that he would join you after cleaning up, and you didn’t notice the overhead light dimming. You simply begged for sleep to take you quickly and painlessly.

When Law finally returned after washing his face, he gazed dejectedly at your weary form. Finally asleep, fortunately, but your cheeks were glossy with fresh tears. The man carefully crawled into bed behind you, carefully pulling your body into his. He wished more than anything that he could make your pain go away. He ran through the many years you had been together, and struggled to find a time where your sorrow was as profound as it was this evening. His mind was constantly at war- his analytical, doctor side beginning to list specific reasons why this could be happening, and his sincere, passionate, loving husband side breaking apart reflecting over the sound of your sobs.

It could have been either of you. But it also could’ve been both of you. The thought was enough to finally force the tears in Law’s eyes to break free and travel down his cheeks. Some of them plotted into your hair.

—

You awoke to the sound of whispering in your hallway outside the bedroom. The blinds covering the window above the bed you shared with Law were pulled shut, but the sunlight still beamed through them leaving patterns on the walls and floor. The side Law slept on was empty and freshly made. No surprise, he left for work early in the morning after all. You slowly sat up in bed, your head pounding. The events of the previous evening came rushing back to you, but you felt nothing but an empty melancholy, a dark fog that hung over your brain and clouded your vision.

The door to your bedroom slowly opened. You looked up just in time to see a very large, very fluffy cloud with four legs and two beady eyes come sprinting into your room. Its feet ripped across the carpeted floor as It hopped on your bed with a loud huff, immediately snuggling on top of your duvet and leaning into your body for some much needed cuddles.

You mustered a weary laugh, your hands instinctively moving to the back of the dog’s neck to rub his fluffy cheeks from behind, eliciting happy grunts from the large animal. He had his tongue out, a tiny pink blep among the sea of rich white fur.

“Bepo,” you sighed. “You know Law doesn’t like it when you get on the bed.”

“He missed you!” called a voice from the hallway. Spiky red hair appeared in the doorway. “So did we, actually. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Shachi had, actually, woken you up, but you didn’t need to tell him that. “No, not at all.” You shook your head. Bepo’s tail was wagging in your face, causing you to sputter out small strands of loose fur from your mouth. The red-head entered your bedroom, leaving the door open. The smell of French toast instantly wafted into the space, making your mouth water and your eyes widen. “Is Penguin cooking?”

“Yee-up,” Shachi replied, popping his lips to enunciate the word. “Law invited us over, if you couldn’t tell.” He flashed a smirk. “You got the day off, by the way.”

Your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “What?”

“Law called in sick for you,” the man confirmed.

You frantically reached for the night stand and grabbed your phone, tapping the screen to illuminate it. It was almost 10:00AM, and sure enough, your alarm had been turned off. Three texts from Law sat waiting on your screen, as well as two texts from your coworkers.

Baby~~<3

Sorry, I broke into your phone to turn your alarm off. You get to sleep in today, I called you out sick. I didn’t tell them anything, just that you weren’t feeling good.

Baby~~<3

Shachi and Penguin might be there when you wake up. I did tell them a little about what happened, just so they know to give you space if you need it.

Baby~~<3

Call me if you need anything at all, I love you.

Ika-chan

I heard you called in sick today!!! I hope you’re alright, let me know if you need anything!

Nami Swan

How r u feeling? If u caut the flu u can blame Usopp :P

You smiled, your heart beating in your chest. “You guys are too much sometimes.”

Shachi proudly rested his clenched fist over his sternum as a display of pride. “Nothing is ever enough for your best friend!” The sight made you chuckle.

You were caught off guard by Penguin entering with a much larger platter of food than you ever expected. He excitedly approached your bedside with a wide grin, marveling at his own work. A bowl of mixed fruits, a plate of French toast drizzled with maple syrup and dollopped with a swirl of whipped cream, a small portion of sausage on the side, and a single unopened bottle of apple juice. You graciously accepted the spread, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely befuddled.

“You guys know I’m not actually sick, right?” you asked, glancing at your husband’s best friends with concern. You shooed Bepo away from getting too close to the sausage.

“We know,” Penguin clarified. “We can treat you to a nice breakfast even when you’re not sick, though!”

You smiled, forcing down the lump that formed in your throat. “Thank you guys, I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I know what you’d do,” Shachi stated. “You’d eat your breakfast and savor every bite!” He stood up from your bed and clapped his hands twice, beckoning Bepo off of the bed and over to his side. “We’ll take Bepo for a walk around the neighborhood! Take some time for yourself!” The two men left with your dog in tow, leaving you to stare in awe at the spread of food.

Your mind was reeling. Law’s text informed you that he had given his two friends a brief summary of what had happened, but you didn’t really mind. If anything, it brought you some comfort to know that you and your husband’s two closest friends understood the predicament you were currently in and were more than willing to go out of their way to support you. You also couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Law calling you out sick for the day, putting your passcode into your phone to turn off your alarm, and making sure his friends would be there for you when you woke up. You were beyond grateful for such an incredible support system, but just to be on the safe side…

You grabbed your phone once more, opening your text messages with Law.

Good morning baby, thank you for calling me out. Im feeling a bit better, Shachi and Penguin made me breakfast. I hope you didnt give them too much grief ;3; Take care of yourself today, I’ll see you when you get home. I love you!!! <333

With your breakfast completed, you slowly trudged to the bathroom to take a relaxing shower. The sight of your negative pregnancy test filled you with nausea, but you pushed past the feeling and turned on the water.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #fem reader #law x reader #x reader #reader insert #tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage #tw pregnancy loss #im losing you

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bugs1nmybrain · 9 months ago

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Shigaraki's Psychological Conditions Headcanons - (a long ass post)

So, I'll preface this by saying I am NOT a psychiatrist and am not qualified to diagnose shit. I do however have a history of personal mental health disorders and am going to school for mental health work. This is mostly just for theory sake. My word is not absolute

Let's begin

warnings: mental illness as title suggests, not proofread and probably has typos

Antisocial Personality Disorder / Conduct Disorder

This one sort of goes without saying cuz duh he's a villain or whatever. I want to specify that in terms of Antisocial Personality, he likely is a sociopath, NOT a psychopath

I hear people call him a psychopath all the time and it's infuriating because people throw around labels without understanding what they mean. Psychopaths are more cunning and charming, and very manipulative. This isn't to say that Tomura is none of those things. Psychopath, however, applies to people like All For One. Almost diplomatic and very persuasive.

Tomura is a sociopath because he's known for recklessness and abrasive behavior. Psychopaths often pretend to have feelings, but for sociopaths aggression is a key emotion that's visibly displayed. They are also able to feel remorse in some cases, and I run this back to Shigaraki because he spent years in what was implied to be repressed guilt regarding the death of his family. Tomura admits it himself in his flashbacks, but ultimately decides to let go of that guilt (that he still fucking feels and is in DENIAL but that's another post). Hence, his forgiving nature toward his mother and sister when he's dreaming during surgery.

Even after Tomura let that burden go, he has no desire to be cool and collected, he just fucks around and finds out. Overall, though, he disregards people's lives and doesn't have remorse for what he's done because he throws his trauma and desires over it as a bandaid. He does show care and consideration to people in the League, though.

The conduct disorder part of it is self-explanatory. He's a violent criminal, lol.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

Duh.

Trauma is pretty much all Tomura has known. I won't reiterate his backstory, but being physically abused and rejected as a child, the murder of his family, being blatantly ignored by people on the streets, and AFO's upbringing? That's a lot

His PTSD is so dehibilitating that it took hold of his body language and behavior. Before the end of s5, Tomura was rigid and hunched over. In the MHA video games, he's also seen as very restless and moving his body around (until s4 era in One's Justice 2). I'll attach a video below.

He's also just very irritable and easily set off at the reminders of his trauma and rejection. "I HATE YOU" is a key example, as up to that point Tomura had been improving his rash behavior, but he's very unsettled by his past and continues to be now.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

His case of OCD is connected to his trauma and emotions. You'll find that a lot of his conditions feed into one another. For him, he has a variant of dermatillomania (often known as the skin picking disorder). For him, that is in the form of scratching rather than picking. But he does it compulsively and without thought, and he does it in attempts to self soothe. I believe he does it occasionally as a self injurious behavior, resulting in itching himself rather than lashing out. He even just does it when he's only moderately anxious or irritated.

Depression

While we don't see Shigaraki slumped in bed or feeling sad in the ways we see in many cases of depression, his "I hate everything" mentality puts him here. Actually, it's safe to say he experiences anhedonia, which is the lack of enjoyment in anything. He seems to somewhat enjoy video games, but his bio states "nothing" as his likes. I'm inclined to believe he feels no personal joy or happiness, and tries to attain that through murderous rage. Never works tho, does it Tomura?

Bipolar Disorder and Unspecified Psychotic Disorder

This one might stir some debates, but I do genuinely think he has a mood disorder. I don't want to feed into stigma that bipolar and psychotic people are "evil," because I myself have these conditions, so maybe I'm projecting lmao. He's definitely not medicated, and so I'd say his case is Bipolar Type 1. This type is characterized by intense manic symptoms, though depressive symptoms can be severe, too.

Tomura has manic tendencies, and he's impacted by mania in that he seems to get spontaneous motivation, but he also will stay stagnant for some time. I saw this as the case when Spinner literally went at Shiggy for putting the League in a complacent stage, but he's done this before, such as when he was in a slump about Stain. When his motivation surges, though, he goes above and beyond and doesn't put extensive thought into it. He just lunges into his desires in pursuit of satisfaction. He also has delusions of grandoisity to some degree and has a moment where he treats himself as invincible. He fought Gigantomachia for almost two months, and kept fucking going at him. Surely, he could've asked the doctor to call him off, but Tomura wanted that power so bad. Tomura also went into his surgery without asking many questions about it. He makes very impulsive decisions, even after people insist that he "matured." He also gets flicked into motivation like a snap of a finger, and proceeds to be lead mostly by endorphins and gratification.

When Tomura experiences what he perceives as a "positive" emotion, it overtakes him. He becomes pretty much engrossed in his bodily sensations. Through maniacal laughter and taunting language that's charged in a hate induced fuel. When Shigaraki has "voila" moments, he has a surge in neuroactivity and gets into aggressive mood stages, but I guess that could apply to most of the villains. I saw this when Deku told him the difference between him and Stain, and Tomura had a surge in manic-like bliss and drive.

I'm not sure if Tomura hearing the voices of his family before his epiphany was just intrusive thoughts, but I thought they may have been auditory hallucinations. Tomura admits to hearing things that aren't there and seeing visual hallucinations, too. Evidenced by:

I hate how the dub translated this into "when you're this tired" as a broad statement. The manga gives this more personal association to Shigaraki, and he says that it happens when he's sleepy, and doesn't specify if it's only when he's extremely sleep deprived or just tired. Also, him staying up for days on end and smiling his ass off reeks of mania. He has delusional sprinkles in his thinking process, but they're not of bizarre nature, and are usually tied to his trauma. At this point in the manga he's very psychotic, though. That has a lot to do with him being fueled with adrenaline and also just breaking out of AFO's control.

I think he is either bipolar type 1 with psychotic features or has a mild case of schizoaffective disorder. Probably the first one, but I'm not sure.

ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder)

This one is more of a gut feeling for me, but I see Tomura as being easily distracted and aloof to his surroundings at times. He's fidgety and does shit on whim.

Also, look at his room.

I'm not saying that everyone with ADHD has a messy room, but from what I can see, he goes from one task, drops it entirely without picking up, and goes to the next. Some could argue that Tomura simply doesn't care, and that's true, but he's at least got some decency to put the shit in trash bags. Trash bags that he HASN'T EVEN TAKEN OUT. I think he gets too caught up in the shit he's focused on that it slips his mind to do simple things like that.

He has spontaneous interests from what I can tell from the many books and toys he has that seem to have gone untouched for some time. He also hyperfixates, and I don't mean interest wise. I mean that when he's dwelling on something, it doesn't leave his mind for DAYS, until he gets some gratification. All Might in s1 and Stain s2 for example.

In conclusion, this boy has a grocery list of conditions, but I love Tomura. I love my beautiful prince with a disorder, and he is so dear to me.

I'm open to discussions about this, but please keep them respectful.

#shiggy #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura headcanons #shigaraki headcanons #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shimura tenko

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 8 months ago

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Hi glad to see you back, hope your doing well.

May I ask for a Teen!reader like MaoMao from The Apothecary Diaries. If you haven’t watched that, they’re fascinated by poison and herbs, and have a habit of experimenting with them to observe their effects, primarily on their own body which leads to her applying bandages on her arms to cover the scars due to their passionate love of poisons and her enjoyment when consuming them. How would the family react to their child poisoning themselves on purpose because they’re fascinated by the effects?

(they have a decent immunity to poisons so it doesn’t kill then)

-First of all, the moment they realize that you experiment on yourself with poisons…. PANIC!!!

-Doctors are being called, only the finest physicians for their precious but dense child! While a portion of your family is crying or panicking, thinking you were going to die, the other half is scolding you and forcing you to vomit anything you had ingested.

-You were pouting, being put on time out, as you would call it, being confined to a bed as you had to let yourself be doted on, being treated like a child while the doctors checked out your arms, as many were horrified to see the condition of them, seeing the new and old scars, as well as the new wounds.

-When you finally got them to sit down and shut up for a moment so you could talk, you explained that you had always done this, as you wanted to create medicines for others, but all medicines and treatments had to be tested first, and what better way than to use yourself!

-A few did see the reasoning in your words and methods, but that didn’t mean that they liked it, like Hercules, Jack, Odin, Apollo, and Nikola.

-There were also a few, Lu Bu, QSH, Leonidas, Kojiro, Beelzebub, and Hades, who weren’t overly bothered at all, after hearing of your reasoning, and hearing that you were safe while you experimenting, knowing when to stop, knowing your limits, and knowing countermeasures just in the event if something more serious happened. A few knew of apothecaries, as they were around in their time when they were on earth, or heard of their research, so this wasn’t anything new, it was just surprising that it was you.

-Then you had a few, Adam and Ares mainly, who were beside themselves with worry, trying to go as far as commanding you or banning you from ever doing anything like this again, as they didn’t want anything to happen to their precious baby!!!

-You appreciated their different views and opinions, but you weren’t going to stop, you loved your medicines and poisons, that’s how you made a living when you were alive, being a poison tester, making medicines and treatments, and heralding in new techniques.

-After a while, your family did relent, with some rules in place, as they knew that doing this, for some strange reason, made you happy. While at first you weren’t happy about the rules, but you relented, because you realized they only put them there because they loved you and didn’t want you to get hurt or do anything stupid.

-You couldn’t help but smile softly, ‘I’m so lucky to have so many that care about me.’

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror adam #ror jack the ripper #ror heracles #ror hades #ror odin #ror apollo #ror nikola tesla #ror leonidas #ror lu bu #ror qin shi huang #ror ares #ror kojiro sasaki #ror beelzebub

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

Text

Give You Blue

Epilogue

You are my universe, my everything, my sunset. You still give me butterflies, my lullaby. You are everything I wanted.

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: switching POVs (reader is second-person, Eren is third), fluff, established relationship, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), cunnilingus, face-riding, spit play, pet names (sweetie, honey, sweetheart, princess, good girl, baby)

Previous Chapter

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3

Author’s Note: Just an excuse to write a little bonus chapter about these two! Fluffy, adorable, and happily in love! Also a little smut added to the mix. Thank you everyone for reading this story all the way through the end! Love and appreciate every single one of you. What a journey this has been. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated, as always.

It’s 11:45 PM, New Year’s Eve, fifteen minutes before the start of the new year. You leave your family gathered downstairs to head up to your room, shutting the door quietly, tapping your boyfriend’s contact on your phone screen.

Eren answers after two rings. “Hey, cutie. Hold on.” There’s shuffling, like you’ve been temporarily put in his pocket. In the background, you hear him announce, “Mom, I’m pretty tired. Going to bed now.”

“But you’ll miss midnight!” she responds.

You hear his dad chime in. “Let him, honey. He can make his own decisions.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his tone that even you can detect on the other end of the line.

Your boyfriend lets out a nervous chuckle, muttering a quick, “Happy New Year.” There’s more rustling, then sounds of steps going up stairs, ending with a gentle thud of a door closing. “Sweetie? You still there?” he asks, finally alone.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You smile into the phone, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he greets back. “It’s so nice hearing your voice.”

“I feel the same way,” you reply, falling back into the mattress, gazing up at the ceiling. “How was tonight?”

“Oh, you know, the usual: My mom cooked too much food for three people and my dad has been sneaking little jabs at me. Nothing new.”

Eren officially changed his major before the end of the semester from pre-med to education, a huge weight lifted off his shoulders while a tinier one replaces it, aka his father’s overall disapproval. Dr. Jaeger stood by his word, threatening that he would no longer support his son financially once he made the switch, to which Eren has been preparing for. He has two new on-campus jobs lined up for him at the start of the new semester, along with the weekly music session at the elementary school Erwin Smith’s dad works at. The first week of winter break, he was ready to apply for a few loans to help him throughout the rest of his term. Then, to his shock, his father approached him, informing him that he will actually continue to pay for his education, on the condition that he graduates with outstanding grades and a job guaranteed. Eren’s sure it was his mother who was behind the change in heart, to which he’ll forever be grateful for. Unfortunately, this hasn’t stopped his father from making snide remarks here and there.

You sympathize with him, saying, “I’m sorry.”

His charming grin is audible through the phone. “Don’t be. I can handle it.”

“Where’s Mikasa? And your brother?”

“Mikasa left this morning to spend the rest of break with Jean. And Zeke had to head back to prepare for some conference, so he’s actually in your neck of the woods right now,” he answers, referring to your hometown and current location: Marley. He adds, “To be honest, I wish I was there too.”

You smile, kicking your feet, belly fluttering with butterflies. “We’ll see each other in a week. Do you really miss me that much?” you tease.

“More than anything.”

Swallowing hard, sentimental words dancing on the tip of your tongue (I miss you too, I think about you every day), you remain silent, too shy to get them out. Instead, he continues speaking, changing the subject to talk about what his mom prepared and the new year traditions behind them. She decided to do a spread of German foods this time around: pork sausages for good luck, sauerkraut for more money, and lentil soup for even better luck. He tells you about his childhood, popping open apple cider to tip into everyone’s glasses, watching the fireworks light up the sky from a distance, igniting sparklers outside with Armin, Mikasa, and the other neighborhood kids on the street. You listen to him intently, imagining a young Eren with that same signature bright smile he dons as an adult; warm, genuine, full of light. It’s no wonder you fell for him, especially in a time of your life where you were shrouded in darkness from the fallout of your heartbreak, unsure when you’d ever see sunshine again.

I love you. Every time you think it, you double back, convincing yourself that it’s too soon, too much in such a short amount of time. After all, it’s only been a little over a month since the two of you officially became a couple. Wouldn’t it be crazy to express such a weighted confession?

When there’s a small pause in the conversation, finished with his stories, you start, “Eren,” ready to admit it.

“Oh, it’s already 11:59!” he interjects, excited. “How many seconds do we have left?”

You turn on the TV, switching to a local channel that’s displaying a countdown. “Ah, ten seconds!” You watch the clock, listening to Eren announce the numbers in your ear. At three, you join in. “3…2…1…Happy New Year!”

Downstairs, you hear your family cheering, clinking flutes of champagne or cider with each other. The sound of fireworks bursting can be heard faintly through your window. On the opposite end of the line, Eren says, “Happy New Year, beautiful. Wish I could kiss you right now.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join your family downstairs?” he asks.

“Positive. I want to start the new year with you.”

He laughs softly. “Me too. And you know what? For the first time in a long time, I’m actually excited about the new year. I used to dread going back, always so anxious about my new classes. All the tests and projects I had to work on during the semester. Even interacting with my classmates because it was always so competitive. Now, my new curriculum sounds interesting, and I feel good about my cohort. I just know this year is going to be a great one.” He pauses, choosing his next statement carefully. “I’m also looking forward to us. We’ve got all the time in the world now. I can’t wait to create so many more memories with you.”

Your heart beats faster, taken back by his sincerity. You decide not to confess to him tonight, not because you’re unsure, but because you mean it more. Those three words don’t seem enough to express that to him. Not yet at least. There’s no pressure to rush into anything; as he said, you’ve got all the time in the world.

~~~

Spring semester of sophomore year starts off smoothly, especially for Eren. This is the only time during his collegiate career that he’s felt at ease. While he’s equally as diligent as he was before, he enjoys the material he’s learning, rather than stressing each passing day like he once was. Having his supportive girlfriend by his side is also a huge help, maybe the biggest of them all. He’s never been happier.

Technically, it’s forbidden for RAs to date their residents. However, that hasn’t stopped them, often sneaking into his room to do what couples usually do. Quite frankly, neither are worried about hiding it, considering the rest of the dormitory residents are well aware of the relationship and unfazed by it. Still, whenever one of Eren’s managers visits, he’s extra diligent in keeping that information private.

As for her situation with her ex, she has completely moved on, and seemingly so has he. Occasionally, she’ll spot Reiner walking around campus with his fraternity brothers or classmates. She and him will exchange a cordial head nod, polite wave, sometimes a reminiscent smile, but nothing more. Acknowledging each other’s presence, understanding there’s no more left to their story. A fleeting moment of reminiscence about their past life together, gone as soon as it appears. During these times, Reiner will flash a serious glance at Eren. It’s not threatening or malicious, more like a cautionary warning. He can’t blame the guy; after all, Reiner was her first love, and vice versa. Despite their relationship coming to an end, deep down, they must care for each other to some degree. Even as the new boyfriend, he can understand that, so he remains unbothered by it.

Despite his father agreeing to continue the payment of his tuition, Eren decided to work at least one part-time job this semester to supplement date nights or gifts for his girlfriend. His job is being the front desk of the school library, helping students locate resources or manage the study rooms. For the most part, his schedule is manageable. However, when the week of midterms arrives, it gets a little more complicated. The facility remains open twenty-four hours on weeks like this so students have a place to study at all times. Driven by the increased pay during the night shifts, Eren offers to work them without thinking how it’ll affect his daily routine. It’s only after the first night that he realizes he won’t be able to see his girlfriend until the week is over. With her being just as busy with group projects, there isn’t a time they have free to see each other. So, they settle for voicemails and text message spanning the next few days, which in Eren’s mind, pass by like weeks, maybe months. He misses her.

Finally, Friday comes, and exams are over. After his last class, he heads straight for his room, knocking out for a long nap. He wakes up to gentle tapping on his door. When he answers, he’s thrilled to see her, smiling brightly at him. “Hi.”

Before he can respond with words, he launches forward, wrapping her in his arms. “I’m so happy to see you.” He buries his nose to the top of her head, inhaling that familiar scent he’s been yearning for all week long. “I missed you so much.”

She laughs, music to his ears, warming his entire soul. “I missed you too.”

He pulls her into his room, pushing the door closed by pressing her up against it with a kiss. They stay like this for a while, his hands caressing her cheeks, her fingers hooked to the waistband of his sweats, tugging ever-so-slightly towards her. They kiss each other, languid, soft, and effortless, like this is exactly where they’re meant to be. He’s been deprived too long without her. He won’t waste another second.

She pulls away, leaning back to look at him. “Are you hungry? Do you want to get dinner now?”

He smirks, mouth grazing her ear. “I am hungry, but for something else.” One hand trails down to her hip, squeezing. “I’ve been starving for you all week. Dessert first, then dinner.”

She giggles, nipping at his lower lip. “Are we calling this dessert now?”

“Yup,” he grins. “Because it’s going to be so, so sweet.”

~~~

Within minutes, your clothes are tossed to the floor, stripped and bare in his bed, sheets twisted beneath as your lips smack noisily with each other. “Can I taste you now? Please?” Eren asks.

You nod, rolling onto your back, spreading your legs for him. He shakes his head, hoisting you over him. “Not like that. I want you to ride my face.”

“What?” you stammer, surprised at the suggestion.

“Ride my face,” he repeats.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure. I want it so bad, baby.” The way his voice sounds needy and desperate has your pussy throbbing. Carefully, you straddle him, lowering yourself slowly. His hands slide around your thighs, gripping you. “Come on. Smother me, sweetie.” More aggressively, he shoves you to his face, tongue already out and licking at your clit. You grasp onto the headboard, rolling your hips onto his mouth, head thrown back in pleasure. His moans are muffled, vibrating into your skin with his lips puckered to your bud, sucking.

Soon, you’re coming for him, slick gushing from your slit. He drinks it up, slurping it noisily, his hips thrusting into nothing, cock stiff against his abdomen. “Fuck, you taste so good. Think you can ride my cock now, princess?”

Still reeling from your orgasm, you whimper in response, readjusting yourself so you’re on his lap, sliding your slippery cunt along his erect shaft. He rests his head on his palms, elbows splayed, watching you. “That’s it, baby. Get it nice and creamy with your cum. You’re doing such a good job.”

The praise spurs you on, rubbing yourself on his dick until you’re ready for him, tingling all over. You sink down, cock sliding in smoothly until he bottoms out, your pussy entirely full of him. He plants his feet to the bed, thrusting into you gradually. “I know you already came, but can you give me one more, sweetie? Just one more?” It sounds like he wants to add a pretty please to the end of it, nodding his head affirmatively, looking up at you with innocent eyes while he fucks you relentlessly.

You let out a pathetic whimper, nodding along with him, totally captivated. He smiles so sweetly, the tinge of wickedness in his eyes almost goes unnoticed. Almost. Your boyfriend can be a real menace sometimes, acting tender as he man-handles you like his own personal sex doll. His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh. He’s breathing heavily, exerting all the energy left in his being to give you the best fuck of your life. You bounce on his lap until your legs are spent, yielding all control to him. One hand travels up your spine and lands at the nape of your neck, caressing you, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. His tongue swirls into your mouth, pushing his thick saliva past your lips. He halts his brutal thrusts, hard cock all the way inside you, pussy throbbing around it.

“Open up, sweetie,” he says. You’re high off his cock, too dumbed out to think rationally, so you obey his command, sticking your tongue out. He bites his lip, studying you like you’re the prized treasure he’s about to collect. He tips your head towards him, leaning in close to spit a wad of his saliva in your mouth. “Swallow.” You do, guzzling every drop of it down your throat.

“That’s it. Such a good girl,” he coos.

“Give me more,” you groan, sticking your tongue out.

He grins, smooching your nose. “You like it, don’t you sweetheart?”

You nod, eyes half-lidded as he does it again, his hot, frothy spit coating the inside of your mouth. Arms coiled around his neck, you clutch onto him tightly, electricity rippling from your core throughout the rest of your body as he pumps his cock in and out of you.

“Eren,” you whimper, nuzzling his ear. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment, or the fact that you haven’t seen him all week and you missed him so much, you’re bursting at the seams. In a breathy huff, it slips out. “I love you.”

Suddenly, he pauses, stunned by your confession. He holds your face between his palms, staring at you with a serious expression. “What did you say?”

“I love you.”

His lips part, dumbfounded and in a daze, with his dick still hard inside you. It’s not what you imagined it would be like, but in this moment, you wanted to get it off your chest. It’s been simmering within you since New Year’s, and while it’s not the most luxurious of settings, it’s intimate and special, especially with the way his eyes twinkle. “You love me?” he reiterates, clearly in disbelief.

With more confidence, you reply, “I love you, Eren.” You nuzzle your nose to his, smiling. “I love you.”

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you this whole time.”

The two of you giggle into each other’s mouths as you kiss, Eren whispering “I love you” in between. You rock your hips onto his lap, making love slowly until eventually, you come together, skin hot and dewy with sweat, hearts thumping loudly against your chests. He cradles you in his arms, peppering more soft smooches around your face, intertwining his legs with yours. A perfect fit.

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