#if things go downhill and you don't hear from me for a long while. then this will probably be my last post here.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

come clean

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you're already in the shower

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, language, getting together, slow buildup, jackson era, smut, handjob, f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected piv, rough sex, shower sex, size kink

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this one goes out to emotional support daydreams! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated. hope y'all enjoy 💕

Joel’s having a rough day. It’s late, and he’s bone-tired and covered in…well, he’s not really sure what he’s covered in. Mud and bits of dead grass, definitely, but there's splotches of red on his jeans, too. He couldn’t tell you whether it’s his blood or something else’s—the adrenaline still hasn’t completely worn off, so it’s entirely possible he’s not feeling the full extent of his injuries yet.

His day hadn’t started that badly, but it wasn’t a typical morning, either. Maria had stopped him and Tommy at the gate to ask if they'd mind checking out a situation at the dam instead of patrolling their usual route.

Apparently, some of the machinery was acting up and the only person she trusted to oversee the repairs was Tommy. She honestly hadn't given much thought to Joel's part in all of it—their relationship is still pretty tense, even after his return to Jackson, so he was just along for the ride.

Things went downhill fast after they arrived at their destination. No one's really sure how the infected got into the facility, but it was a lucky thing Joel was there after all. With the help of a few guards, they were able to dispatch everything in and around the building without any bites or serious injuries but, boy, did they make a serious mess. Of the facility and the machinery they were supposed to help fix, and of Joel.

So now here he is, exhausted and dirty, getting shit from his kid when all he wants to do is get clean and take a fucking nap.

“Ew, gross,” Ellie groans, clearly not giving two shits about how badly Joel’s day is going or how little she’s helping right now. She had the day off and is somehow still watching movies in the same spot he left her in this morning. “Stop touching things! You’re getting shit everywhere.”

He ignores her and shrugs off his coat, walking into the living room to toss it over the back of his recliner, but she throws him a dirty look that stops him in his tracks.

"Whatever, m'gettin’ in the shower," he grunts, dropping it on the doormat instead. He'll probably have to burn that coat anyway if the stains and…odor are anything to go by.

"Uhhhh, no, actually you're not," she says matter-of-factly, and he raises his eyebrows, eyeing her expectantly when she doesn't elaborate.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Did your hearing get worse or something? Shower's already on,” she nods toward the stairs. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice the sound of running water filtering down from the second floor earlier, but now he’s annoyed that he can’t shower and that she might actually be right about his hearing.

"Well then, I'm waitin' here," he sasses back, taking a seat on the recliner with zero regard to the upholstery.

"Dude!" She’s starting to look as exasperated as he feels. And her reaction isn’t unwarranted. If he touches literally anything in this living room, they’ll probably have to burn it, too.

"Fine, fine, m'not touchin' anythin'," he stands back up, holding his hands up in surrender. "How long's she been in there?"

"Like, five minutes. Probably gonna be a while, knowing her,” she replies with an amused grin. Oh, so she thinks this is funny.

"The fuck do ya expect me to do then, stand here ‘til she's out?" He asks as if it’s not exactly what he’s been doing the entire time they’ve been having this conversation.

"As long as you don't sit on any of the furniture, I don't really give a shit what you do," she shrugs.

He rolls his eyes at her, running a hand down his face in frustration. He’s just about to give up and hose himself down in the yard when she finally offers a solution.

"You could just knock and see if she'll swap out with you. She basically just got in, anyway."

“Y’know what, I think I will,” he grumbles, heading upstairs to the bathroom and leaving Ellie to her shitty 90s sci-fi thriller. She shakes her head, laughing as she slips on her headphones.

“Don’t be too loud up there!”

But with his bad ears, he doesn’t hear her.

God, you needed this shower so badly. It's been a rough day, to say the least, and it’s finally time to get the relaxation you deserve. You got saddled with an extra patrol shift because two of the usual guys had a last-minute change of assignment, and it turned a typical day into an unbelievably exhausting one.

But tonight you got lucky. There was no one around to use up all of the hot water besides Ellie, who’s been glued to the TV all day, and you miraculously got home before Joel. So tonight, you get to enjoy the expensive bottle of shampoo you found at some fancy store in some fancy mall last month, and let yourself forget for a while that there’s fucking fungus monsters out there eating people.

That is—until someone knocks on the door and ends your perfect evening before it begins. Now you’ve got soap in your eyes, and you’re slightly worried because Ellie either needs something from the bathroom or the house is on fire. There’s never an in-between with her.

“Ellie? Everything okay?” you call out, really hoping it’s not the latter.

The voice that responds is muffled and decidedly much deeper than Ellie’s, and you’re momentarily taken off guard before you realize it’s not a burglar. It’s Joel—of course, it’s Joel. He probably got off his shift late and wants to clean up, and now you feel bad for making him wait and using up all the hot water.

You can’t really hear what he’s saying over the shower, so you slide the curtain open to poke your head out. “What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

He tries to answer you again, or at least you think he does, but you still can’t make him out, so you tell him to come inside. The door only opens a crack, but it's so quick that there's no time to duck behind the curtain before Joel's face appears and you're both staring at each other blankly.

“…Hi,” you breathe out, praying it’s just your head and not the rest of your body peeking out. “So, um, what were you saying?”

He looks a little embarrassed and it’s adorable, but the thought only crosses your mind for a split second before you notice the rest of him. He’s—there’s really no nice way to say this, but he looks revolting.

There’s dirt everywhere. Matted in his hair, under his fingernails, all over his clothes. It looks like he’s been rolling around on the ground all day, and honestly, maybe he has. He’s also got…gross, is that a chunk of…? Nope. It looks like someone exploded in his face, and he needs a shower. Badly.

The only problem is you’re covered head-to-toe in soap, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only got about 15 minutes of hot water left.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry to barge in on ya,” he mumbles, looking pointedly away from you. “I came up here to see if you wouldn’t mind pausin’ your shower for a bit, but I, uh…can see that’s gonna be a little difficult.”

You look down at yourself and, yeah, he’s right. You’re dripping water and soap all over the floor. Getting out now would be a pain in the ass, but he also really needs to get in.

“No, no. It’s totally fine! It makes way more sense for me to sit around soapy than for you to, um, stand around like that,” you reason. It’s his turn to look down at himself, and he grimaces. “Just turn around for a sec and we can swap.”

He nods, still looking sheepish, but grateful.

You duck back into the shower to shut the water off and gather up your toiletries to make room for his. You’ve already shoved half of your stuff to one side before you realize it was probably just a waste of time because there was already plenty of space—and that's when it dawns on you.

This stall is pretty big—as far as showers go, anyway. There's no reason you can't both fit in here at the same time. It's also not like he's never seen you naked before. You joined up with Joel and Ellie long before running water was in the picture, so you've had your fair share of awkward bathing encounters. Really, it's just a matter of whether or not he'll go for it.

You pop your head back out, taking a second to admire those strong, broad shoulders of his before getting his attention. Damn, he's a real catch. Hot and respectful. But seriously, he's so disgusting right now and it would be a shame to allow that to continue.

"Hey, Joel," you start, and he glances back carefully over his shoulder. You hesitate for a beat before continuing, “So, hear me out—what if we just…if we both showered…at the same time…”

He looks confused, and you realize how badly you botched that entire sentence. Okay, so talking around it didn't work. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before trying again.

"Just—just get in with me," you say softly. "We can shower together."

His brow furrows, eyes unreadable. He looks like he might be thinking it over, but his silence isn't exactly the most encouraging reaction in the world. Subconsciously, you hold your breath while you wait for an answer.

There’s no way he’s going to go for this, is there? It’s Joel. He can barely look at you in a tank top without blushing, let alone wet and naked. You’re not even sure why you bothered asking. It was clearly a dumb—

“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” he nods, turning back to you fully, and you swear he’s looking at you differently. That's…not what you were expecting. Not that you're complaining in the slightest. He's not even trying to hide his eagerness, and you're starting to think maybe he was waiting for you to ask all along.

"Well, come on in, cowboy."

Joel undresses slowly, eyeing what little of you he can see greedily, and it makes your cheeks burn. It’s like he can’t look away—from your eyes and lips, your collarbone. Even the tiny droplets of water that fall from your hair. It feels more intimate than any moment you’ve ever shared with Joel, and he hasn’t even touched you. Yet, hopefully.

You’re getting impatient. He's making a show of stripping down and it's taking everything you have not to get out of the shower and rip all of his clothes off yourself. His fingers are so thick, and more and more of his tanned, weather-worn skin is exposed to you as they work to unbutton his shirt.

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling at this point, imagining those fingers sinking deep inside you before you can stop yourself. Fuck, you're pent up. And should probably have a lot more shame, but now he's unzipping his jeans, and you feel like you're about to combust.

You let out a pained noise without meaning to and he chuckles, shaking his head as he picks up the pace. "I'm comin', I'm comin'," he teases, dropping his pants to the floor. "Why don't you get the water goin' for me?"

Now you're the one having trouble looking away. Damn, who even is this guy? He’s nothing like the Joel you’ve known for years, and definitely not the Joel who stepped into this bathroom ten minutes ago. If you'd known it would go like this, you would’ve invited him to shower with you a long time ago.

He’s down to just his boxers now, and maybe it's wishful thinking, but he looks like he’s already hard. Swallowing is suddenly extremely difficult, so you shoot him one last appreciative look before doing what he asked.

You turn the water back on and it’s still pleasurably warm as it rains down onto your tense shoulders. The steady pressure soothes some of the nerves while you wait for him to join you, but you’re so caught up in the moment that you don't notice the curtain opening.

"Scoot over," he murmurs behind you, his breath fanning out over the back of your neck. He’s close, so much closer than you expected him to be. You assumed you’d be dancing around each other for at least a little while longer, but it seems like Joel knows exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the shower.

He reaches around you to grab that expensive bottle of shampoo you’ve been looking forward to, his fingers grazing your bare skin, and you shiver despite the heat of the water.

“Or you could stay right here,” he says, even closer now, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We could help each other out—with washin’ up, I mean.”

You inhale shakily, your reply getting caught in your throat. “Y-yes—yeah, yes…we should definitely do that,” you breathe out.

He chuckles and the sound is surprisingly affectionate. It gives you hope that this won’t just be a one-time thing. That after all this time, he wants you as much as you want him.

You’re the first to initiate physical contact, reaching back to bury your fingers in his hair which, in retrospect, turns out to be a terrible idea. He’s still filthy, and your fingers get caught in tangles and dirt and…probably a lot of other nasty shit you don’t want to think about.

You snort out a laugh, turning around to face him. “I think you’re up first, handsome.”

The corners of his mouth tip up as he nods, and you can’t resist the urge to reach up and trace his bottom lip with your thumb. He kisses the pad of your finger, and you wish so badly that it was your lips.

For the second time tonight, you’re feeling incredibly impatient. You want to feel more of him, let him press you up against the wall and kiss you, touch you the way you both want him to, but it’ll have to wait.

You pluck the bottle from his hands and squeeze a huge dollop into your palm, telling him to turn around with a small smile. His eyes drop to the quirk of your lips for a moment too long before he obliges, and you’re starting to realize he’s getting impatient, too.

You reach up to thread your fingers into his graying hair and, somehow, the strands still feel soft despite everything tangled up in them. It’s going to take a decent amount of scrubbing before it’s back to its normal, fluffy state of disarray, but you’ll make it feel good for him. A little taste of what's to come.

He tips his head back as you massage in the shampoo, letting out the softest groan when your fingernails scratch along his scalp, and you have to press your thighs together to relieve the growing ache in your core. You’re not going to make it through this shower if he keeps making noises like that. But, of course, he does, and they're getting louder.

You can feel his body starting to respond to yours, too. It’s a little cruel how you’re purposely working him up, sliding a washcloth over his shoulders and across his back, letting your fingers skim teasingly over his skin as you stretch your arms around him to reach his front.

His stomach flexes under your palm, and he inhales sharply as your hardened nipples graze across his back. You continue your path down, running your fingers through the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and his hips jerk forward, seeking the friction you so desperately want to provide. He's panting, and you're both having a difficult time holding yourselves back.

Brown and red swirl in the water around your feet and down the drain, and it's enough to tell you that he's finally clean. And that you can finally touch him the way you want to.

Pressing yourself firmly against his back, you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock and he feels huge in your hand, rock hard and pulsing with his racing heartbeat. You pump him a few times, giving him a firm squeeze at the base, and he keens, already leaking all over himself.

He braces a hand on your hip to steady himself as you trail open-mouthed kisses down his spine, digging his fingers in roughly when you slowly start to jerk him off in earnest.

"T-that's it, pretty girl—,” he pants heavily, eyes dropping down to watch you work him, and you twist your wrist up on the next stroke, thumbing over his head. "Keep goin', just like that."

You whimper damply against his skin at the pet name, feeling a pleasurable whoosh in your belly as your cunt drips pathetically down your thighs. The throbbing between your legs is almost unbearable, but you don't want to let him go, not when his hips are meeting your fist so fucking desperately. You wedge a hand between your bodies, slipping it lower and lower until your fingers rub against your slick folds, gathering some of the wetness to rub soothing circles into your clit.

“I got you, I got you,” you moan at the sudden relief. Your caresses start to match his thrusts, and soon he's trembling in your arms, whimpering like he'll cum any second if you let him. You rub your cheek tenderly against his back, murmuring soft, encouraging words into his heated skin.

"You're doing so, so well," you tell him, and he seizes up at the praise, chest heaving as you focus your attention closer to the tip. "You wanna cum or are you gonna wait for me? Want you to fill me up…can you do that for me?"

For a second, you think your words might've thrown him over the edge, his hips stuttering against your palm even as you slow your movements. But he's still clearly fighting the urge to cum, and that has to mean he wants to fuck you badly.

His hand shakes as it lifts to wrap around yours, guiding you down to squeeze the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm, but you're not making it easy for him. You barely notice your other hand still working your pussy, too turned on to realize you've started pumping two fingers in and out of yourself.

Joel notices, though. Something that sounds almost animalistic tears its way out of his chest as he turns on you, snatching your hand out of your cunt and slamming it against the shower wall. Your fingers are shiny and glistening with your wetness and he leans forward to suck each of them into his mouth, groaning at your taste on his tongue.

The look on his face makes it seem like you're the best meal he's ever had, and you feel a strong, sudden urge to have his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. He pulls off your middle finger with an audible pop, and then you're crashing your lips into his, immediately licking into him.

God, why do you taste so good in his mouth? It's salty and heady, and really shouldn't be as hot as it is, but you can't bring yourself to care as his tongue tangles with yours. You feel two—shit, no, it’s three—of his fingers slip into you, and, holy fuck, they're so much bigger than yours. You're already so full and they feel even thicker at the base, nudging a spot that makes you see stars.

There's no way his cock is going to fit inside you…right? But the thought of him trying anyway almost makes you cum on the spot. Another wave of heat crashes through you and your walls convulse around him, pussy gushing down his fingers, and he abruptly breaks away from your lips, groaning lowly, desperately.

"Fuck, I-I need—shit, I need to fuck you, pretty girl," he twitches against you, leaking a glob of precum as he ruts into your belly. “M'gonna fill ya up real good, just like you wanted—," and you gasp, clamping down on his fingers one more time before he's pulling them out and hauling you into his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he shoves you higher up the wall.

His hands roam your skin hungrily before eventually settling under the soft swell of your ass, holding you up as he slicks up his cock between your folds. Every time the tip catches your clit, your hips buck clean off the wall and he presses into you harder to keep you in place. You bury your face in his neck, thighs squeezing into his sides.

"S'not gonna fit," you slur, a little drunk off how good he feels between your legs. The next time his hips buck forward, the blunt head of his cock catches your entrance. "J-Joel—ngh…Joel, s'too big, you have to make it fit, please."

And that's when his patience runs out.

He sheathes himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust, growling roughly into your hair, and the stretch is mind-numbing. He stays deep, letting you adjust to the feeling of being split open, and his head drops to your shoulder. His eyes are locked on where you're joined, your pussy stretched around him almost obscenely.

"Would'ja look at that," he mumbles to himself, rocking in and out slowly as he turns his head to suck a bruise into your collarbone. You reach a hand down curiously, wanting to feel yourself around him, and your jaw drops when your fingers brush where his thickness is forcing your cunt to yield to him. "Knew you could take me…pussy feels s-so fuckin' good, like you were made for me."

You whine pathetically as the ache starts to subside and the need for him to fuck you becomes overwhelming. Pleasure blooms where he's already grazing that heavenly spot again, and you tug his head back by his hair, bringing his attention back up to you.

Everything pauses, just for a moment. You kiss his lips delicately, so much more delicate than he's about to be with your body but, right now, you need him to know that it's more than this for you. More than the sex and the physical intimacy. And the way he kisses you back reassures you beyond a doubt that it's more than this for him, too.

Then, your patience runs out.

"Joel, move."

And suddenly, he's spearing up into that spot deep inside you with reckless abandon, bouncing you on his cock, and you're not entirely sure, but you might actually be screaming.

Your head lolls back, thudding dully against the wall, and he ducks down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue circling the nub as he continues you work you up and down his shaft. The sound your pussy's making around him should be humiliating, but it only spurs him on, the wet squelching echoing loudly over the running water.

"Hear that? That's all you, baby. So fuckin' wet, look at that," and he's watching himself again in awe as he fucks in and out of you. You follow his gaze and, holy shit, he's not kidding. You're absolutely soaking him. "You look so good like this, so goddamn pretty stretched around my cock."

You still haven't completely acclimated to how thick he is, not sure you ever actually will, and the syrupy-sweet pain of him has you clawing at his back. You use the wall as leverage, arching just enough so you can actively meet his thrusts, and the new angle sends you reeling.

"Feels so…full, so full," you gasp, your back inching higher up the wall with the force of his thrusts. "K-keep going…there, Joel, there."

It's not just that one spot he's hitting anymore—fuck, it feels like he's everywhere. The ridge of his cock is rubbing your walls just right and every other thrust fucks deep enough to graze your cervix. You sob at the onslaught of overpowering pleasure, burying your hands in his hair to tether yourself as your brain begins to fizzle.

Just a little more, you only need a little bit more. You can feel the lower half of your body locking down and, as if he can sense exactly what you need, he grinds his cock in as deep as it'll go.

"That's it, baby. C'mon, give it to me," he grits against your throat. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' tight, you're almost there."

The coarse hairs at the base of his cock scrape roughly and a little painfully against your swollen clit as you rock against him, but the slide is still so slick and raw that your thighs begin to quake around his waist, and it's—fuck, it's so…so…

"M'gonna fucking cum—gonna…oh fuck, fuck, Joel," your lips part around what you pray is a silent scream and your body goes rigid, cunt spasming violently around him.

He chokes out a moan as you clamp down impossibly tighter on his cock. "Fuckin' hell, there we go," he rasps out shakily as he fucks you into the wall blindingly hard, letting you ride him through your orgasm.

"So, s-so good. Feels so fuckin' good," he's starting to mumble to himself deliriously, squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise. You whimper helplessly as his thrusts get sloppier and more desperate, "Gonna fill you up 'til it's leakin' out…c-can I, pretty girl? Please…bet you'd look so fuckin' good with my cum spillin' out of you—"

Before you can even answer, you feel him throb and then his entire body stills, his cock visibly pulsing as he empties into you. He moans his way through it, his head dropping to your shoulder again to watch himself pump you full of cum just like he said he would.

If you thought you felt full before, it's nothing compared to how you feel right now. He's still so deep, twitching pathetically inside you as he lifts his head to nose at the underside of your jaw. He presses a soft kiss there and you sigh, wrapping your arms and legs around him tighter.

"Christ, Joel, where did that come from?" you rasp out. He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling his hips into your sensitive clit. Your pussy flutters around him and his breath hitches, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. He still hasn't pulled out and you have a feeling he doesn't want to.

"Been waitin' a long time for that," he murmurs, meeting your eyes. You smile softly, and your lips command his attention. "Waited a long time for you."

So full of surprises tonight. You’ve traveled with him for years, settled down with your kid, but you never expected this. For him to finally feel the same way you do, to fuck you like that. You’re suddenly extremely thankful he came home in dire need of a shower.

You run your hands up his chest, settling one on his shoulder and burying the other in his hair. The dirt, the grime—it's all gone now, replaced by your release and the sweat of your exertion. He smells so good, just like your fancy shampoo. Just like home.

You lean in to kiss him deeply and he melts into you, his lips soft and warm against yours. When you part, you're met with that look again. The one he gave you after you asked him to shower with you, and that he hasn't stopped giving you since. Like he's observing you, contemplating you.

You recognize it now—it's hope.

"I've been waiting a long time for you too, Joel."

He kisses you again, holding you close as the water goes ice cold.

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[wyvernest]

hello! i absolutely love your writing could i request smth like fem! reader with miguel where she buys a suggestive nightgown/lingere set or outfit for him and how he’d totally melt when he sees it? thank you :))

for your eyes only

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, piv, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, slight body worship, tiddie sucking?

summary: miguel has been overworking himself, and you buy a new lingerie set to help him release some stress

divider by @cafekitsune <3

You and Miguel are on a vacation.

He had been more than stressed lately with the aching duties of leading the spider-society, but the very last thing he intended to do was to neglect you.

So naturally, he thought of ways to spend more time with you, yet every time you two would finally get into the mood, right when he was about to make you his all over again, an anomaly or a system malfunction at HQ would interrupt you, leaving you with your heart racing and him with terribly uncomfortable blue balls.

He had had quite enough.

He surprised you with the tickets several weeks ago, on one of those rare occasions on which you two happened to be alone in the intimacy of his house.

To say that you were overflowing with joy is an understatement. He assured you that while he is gone, Jess would remain in charge so things don't go downhill.

So now, here you are, packing for a long-awaited, honeymoon-replica with your beloved husband. You feel enormously grateful for his effort to make you a priority, even more so when you remember how anxious he was about abandoning his job for a while.

You want to make it worth it.

You want to make him forget about all the stress and worries. You want to be there for him, to help him, to comfort him,

to pleasure him.

After assessing all options, you decide you're more than happy with the results.

"What's gotten into you?" he inquires playfully in between your hurried, passionate kisses as you drag him into the hotel room, excitement evident in your movements. 

He's clearly more than pleased to see you clinging onto him like a lifeline, his ego undeniably boosted by the desperate make out session you just pulled him into right in the hallways. The knowledge of still being able to drive you crazy so effortlessly makes him smirk into the heated kiss.

"Told you." you gasp shallowly, parting from his swollen lips as you pull at his shirt, seeking to take it off. "I have a surprise."

Taking the hem and tossing the shirt out of your way, he bends down slightly, his massive shoulders bringing his shadow upon you, intimidating but so hot.

"Tell me about it." His voice is an octave lower, deep and provoking. You have to actively fight your brain from melting into lust and hunger for him in order to remain conscious and stick with the idea.

"No need.", you push at his biceps and he complies, backing off, an eyebrow raising in slight confusion mixed with surprise.

"You just have to take a shower first."

"Ah." his mood shifts abruptly, his head tilts to the side as if to check if he really needs one.

You can't help but burst into a hearty chuckle. "No, not because of that! I just need you away for a couple of minutes."

Your eyes squint, suggestive. He doesn't fail to catch on to your request, the ideas of what you might be up to already taking form in his mind, making his eyes shine a dark red glow.

Stepping back, he heads to the bathroom, turning back to you before shutting the door.

"Be quick. I won't be long.", He warns, almost threateningly, and you can't stop yourself from growing wet at the thought that he would take you the second he's out, no matter if you're ready or not.

Coming back to your senses, you hear the water running in the shower, yet sense no movement. You know he's listening in, but you couldn't care less. Enhanced senses or not, he wouldn't possibly be able to tell that you're rushing to the luggage to snatch the lingerie set you brought just by the shuffling alone. 

Or can he?

You're fast to discard your evening outfit, slipping into the set. Glancing at yourself in the hotel mirror, a nearly evil smirk takes over your face imagining his reaction. Adjusting everything in place, you look at the bright red straps around your thighs, ever slightly too tight, just to make the flesh look plumper, ready to pop out of its confinement; you look at the thin panties, inviting and bold, leaving your ass bare for his hands to play with. And finally, the pièce de résistance, the bow tie holding your breasts together, the only thing covering them.

Fixing your hair and doing the final touches to the bed, turning the lights off and lighting a couple candles, you take your place on the soft mattress.

You feel your heart racing like it's your honeymoon night, your nervousness not aided by the sound of the water tap falling silent and of him stepping out of the shower.

It only takes him a few seconds to tie a towel around his hips and push the door wide open, the bright light creeping into the room through a barely-there cloud of condensation.

The moment he spots you, he stops dead in his tracks.

"Ay, mierda.." He mumbles, more to himself, his eyes scanning your body up and down, from head to toe and back.

"So beautiful," he concludes, tone heavy with need as he approaches you slowly, eyes still not meeting yours. "And all mine."

Getting up from your spot, you meet him halfway, kneeled on the edge of the bed. Your hands fly to his massive shoulders, moving up his neck to tangle in his damp hair. He grabs your waist, the heat of his palms on the bare skin of your middle sending shivers up your spine like it's your first time together.

Nearly getting lost in the sight of him, half naked with droplets of water running down his chest, you bite your lip, breathing quickened.

"What did I do to deserve this, hm?" He whispers, eyes half lidded and voice low and sleepy. "Eres demasiado buena para mí." (You're too good to me)

He leans closer, his hot breath fanning your face.

You find it hard to gather yourself and focus on what he's saying.

"You've been working so hard lately." your voice drips into an exaggerated praise which he drinks in with the most obvious interest. "Coming home late, barely getting any time to yourself." 

He leans even closer, keen on listening to you.

"You hold it all together so well," you mirror his own past voiced complaints. "You deserve so much more than a vacation."

"¿Ah, sí? ¿Cómo qué?" (Oh, yeah? What do you mean?). He insists smugly, one inch away from tasting your lips.

He wants to hear you say it.

You take his hands from your waist and pull them to slide upwards; he doesn't waste a second before he places them on each side of your breasts, pushing them together softly.

"Anything I can give you." You speak quietly, toying with the superficial knot of his towel. He closes the gap between you, his lips moving against yours with unmatched passion and want, his breathing already hot and laboured. His bare chest rises and falls against yours as he finally pulls away only to get rid of the cloth around his waist, flashing you with the image of his hardening fat cock.

Towering over you, he slowly and carefully pushes you to lie back down on the bed, crawling on top of you.

His mouth latches on to your pulse point, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin, while his warm hands travel up and down your body appreciatively. 

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of his cursory palm caressing your thighs, the curve of your hips, up to the soft mound of your tit, all the while his lips remain on your neck.

"Miguel-!" You moan mindlessly, and his cock twitches on your thigh, hard and heavy.

Suddenly, his hands grip your waist firmly and he flips you over so that you're on top of him. 

You brace yourself on your elbows on either side of his head, arching your back. He plants a wet kiss on the tops of your breasts, still concealed by the red bow, as one of his hands moves to deliver a slap to your ass.

The hot palm maps your body like a vice, you feel as if the skin will burn and sting once his touch departs from you. He shifts and presses his lips to yours, indulgent and tender. It’s different, not nearly as greedy as before, it’s more intimate, as if you’re trading parts of your souls to each other, never to return them nor want to do so. You arch against him, crushing your chest onto his.

The second you part from him with a gasp, blissed out with the taste of him still on your lips, you shiver at the sight of his half lidded eyes, dark cocoa alight with the crimson tide you know so well, full of need and desperation.

His hands come up to your front, pulling the tie loose with a dumbfounded, sleepy smirk.

Your breasts bounce free from the blood-red ribbon. His broad hands slide to your back, pulling you into him as he takes one tit in his mouth, sucking and kissing, groaning with every breath he stops to take. You feel each sound he lets out, vibrating deep in his chest.

Breathing shallow and quickened, you let your pelvis lower until the girth of his hard cock brushes against the silky fabric of your thong. 

His hips buck into you reflexively, eliciting a soft whimper out of you. 

Detaching from the tender flesh of your breasts, he pulls you down to taste your lips once more, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with the way he swallows every whisper of his name that rivers into the kiss.

Unbeknownst to you, he hooks his fingers around the elastic straps around your ass and thighs, pulling on the strings only to release them, making them whip your skin with a loud smack.

You arch your back further into him, grinding into his erection in the process. He grunts abruptly, no longer able to hold back.

With expert ease, he drags at the straps holding your panties, ripping them at the joints. Before you can yelp and protest, he pushes the mushroom head of his already leaking cock into your folds.

You clench at the contact, anchoring your hands on his stout shoulders as you sink onto his dick. He watches your greedy cunt swallow him, inch by inch, until he bottoms out, his pubes brushing right against your clit.

You start rolling your hips, feeling his whole dick slip out half way only to push back in against your guts, grazing every mind-numbing nerve in its wake. You’re utterly delirious, and so is he.

His vision targets your breasts, softly swaying in his face with every mount of your body on his. He stills you momentarily, his massive arms sheathing you in a spine-tingling hold. 

Muffled, pleased hums resonate in his chest, echoing against yours as he squeezes you into him, your tits pressed flush right above his collar. You let a moan crawl out of your throat as he plants rushed, desperate pecks on every spot he can lay his mouth on; your neck, your shoulders, the tops of your breasts. 

The heat of his profound exhales washes over your skin, kindle to a fire. Heedlessly, you arch your back into his hold, pushing yourself into him, your body marinated into his arms the way he loves so much. He thinks he might come right then and there, no friction, no nothing. Just the feeling of you, soft and tender, mollifying further into his possessive touch with every kiss he places on you.

But soon the need for more friction gets the better of him as he starts thrusting into you from below.

You let yourself fall into his forceful arms as he drives his cock in and out of your weeping cunt, face contorting into pure pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and fucked-out eyes squinting.

The bed squeaks under his weight, the bedframe hitting the wall with ever violent push of his cock into you. You feel his abdomen flex against your stomach, his biceps pulling you impossibly close against his feverish skin.

Burying his head in the crook of your neck, his pants turn into moans as his thrusts lose rhythm and strength. It's the hottest thing that's ever reached your ears, and you moan in tandem with him as you reach your climax. 

When he doesn't stop, your whole body starts burning, a blinding firework scattering on the sky. 

Pushing hard into you, as deep as he can be, with a pained, breathless groan, he comes inside your still fluttering pussy. His cock pulsates into you, staining your insides white, the feeling of his warm seed short circuiting you in an aftershock. 

Both of your heads nestled into each other, feverish bodies moulded together in a suffocating embrace, his lips start ghosting over your neck, a silent praise for taking him so good.

"You should wear this more often, mi vida." he breathes into your mouth.

"I would, if you hadn't ripped it." You tease back, evidently turned on by his antics.

"No te preocupes. (Don't worry.) I'll buy you more."

a/n: yes im obviously in love with the vacation with miguel trope, hope you like this<33 it turned out longer than expected

[psychostxr]

𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢 | emotions

PAIRING. jordan li x gn! reader

WORD COUNT. 0.7k

WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of death, marie bashing (i'm sorry)

NOTES. i have also hopped on the jordan li train, and my god, i've never had a character chokehold me so tightly

Since Marie Moreau joined Godolkin University, everything has gone downhill. After the death of your friend Luke and the murder of your favorite professor, your life has gone through a ball of shit. You didn't want to blame Marie. The poor girl got caught up in Luke's drama — drama you didn't even know existed — she's just as traumatized as you are.

That's what you would've said before news spread around school that Marie and Andre were the ones that stopped Luke, not Jordan. Your partner who actually fought Luke while Marie ran at the first sign of danger. The thought of Marie frustrates you to no end, but you have other things to worry about, such as Jordan locking themself in their room since classes ended.

For as long as you've known Jordan, they've always been competitive. They climbed up the school's student ranks at Godolkin, beating almost anyone and everyone who tried to get in their way. They were one stop away from being first-ranked. But because of Marie and Andre's 'courageous act' of stopping Luke, they've been pushed up the ladder, while Jordan has to settle for fifth. It hurts to see Jordan so angry at the world and themself.

You knock gently on Jordan's door, hearing the muffled sounds of what you presume to be Marie's interview with Hailey Miller. The room goes quiet, and you wait a few moments for Jordan to open the door. But they don't.

"I know you're in there, Jordan." You turn the doorknob, rattling the door in your unsuccessful attempt to get in. You sigh and lean your head against the door. "Please open up, baby. I'm worried about you."

There's a moment of silence until the door cracks open. You take a step back, seeing Jordan's somber expression.

"Hey," you say, smiling softly. "Can I come in?"

Jordan hesitantly returns your smile. "Sure."

They open the door wider, allowing you to enter their dimly lit room. Their room is nothing from the usual, with clothes strewn over their couch and textbooks scattered on their desk. You pull your bag off your back, setting it down on Jordan's bed to retrieve your laptop and the takeout you bought from Vought A Burger.

"I was thinking we could maybe watch Property Brothers and have dinner together?" you suggest. "Or any other show if you want?"

Jordan shakes their head, their lips quirking upwards. "That sounds really nice, actually."

You pass Jordan the takeout, unsure if they've eaten anything since having lunch with you earlier today. You quickly set up the laptop on the coffee table before sitting on Jordan's bed.

Leaning against the headboard, you open your arms wide. "Come here."

Jordan doesn't hesitate, settling themselves in your waiting embrace. Their arms wrap around your torso, pulling them closer until their head finds a comfortable spot nestled against your stomach.

Feeling the weight of Jordan's emotions, you hold your partner close, your arms enveloping Jordan's shoulders. You softly kiss the crown of Jordan's head, your lips brushing against their ink-black hair.

"I'm sorry you're having a shitty day," you whisper, threading your fingers through their silky strands. "It's not fair."

"It's not your fault," Jordan says, sighing. "Shit happens."

"This school is shit," you explain, your anger spiking. "You've worked your fucking ass off to become second-ranked at Godolkin, but because of Marie and our asshole of a principal, you've lost your spot."

Jordan lifts their head to look at you. "It sounds like you're more upset than me."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." You shake your head before staring lovingly at Jordan. "I love you so much, Jordan. So much that I feel everything you feel. When you feel angry, I feel angry. When you're sad, I'm sad. So when you go through these obstacles in life, you aren't alone. I will always be there for you, baby."

Jordan crumbles at your words, and a small smile plays on their lips. They lift themself and lean towards you. Their lips press against yours gently before pulling away, leaving you no time to savour the kiss.

"I'm lucky to have you," they admit.

As you grin, you pull Jordan closer into another kiss. But this time, you can feel the intense emotions radiating off them, and you soak in the passion and love from Jordan's kiss. The rest of the night is spent in each other's arms, binge-watching Property Brothers and devouring greasy takeout.

© psychostxr — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.

[covenofagatha]

hello hello! it's been a full day or two since i popped by (i had to study. devastating, truly) and I've been SAVING your fics and making a point to not spoil myself before i read them.

anyway, i just finished them all in one go and.... wow. yes, i understand the influx of asks demanding happy endings because how dare your writing have me in a unrelenting grip of horniness and despair? horrible. it should only be the former /nm

stepmom fic was always one of my favourites and i was ecstatic that it was brought back to life with your incredible talent again ☺️

of course, no ask of mine is complete without a tiny worm. let me know what you think of this miss covenofagatha:

desperate agatha this desperate reader that.... what about desperate rio vidal?

(ft. mommy! agatha, babygirl! reader, g! p rio, choking like once, tiny tiny worm)

inspired by the chronicles of FFF and NNN with you and agatha, it's only right you give rio a shot (or not, ha) at it. after she's gone for particularly long without telling you both (again), the two of you decide it's time for her to get punished in her least favourite way: edging.

she doesn't take you seriously when you tell her, not believing her sweet little girl would be serious, but when agatha backs you up it dawns on her how screwed she is. one of you is... well. one thing. but when you two join forces? it's torture.

in the first week, it's surprisingly worse than she thought it would be. being gone for so long meant rio was already worked up, and she'd been looking forward to being all over you the moment she'd gotten home, but apparently not. for a few days, you and agatha work separately. agatha mumbles a few dirty words in her ear, about how she "must be so pent up, huh, my love?" while you tease her with a few easy flashes of skin here and there. it's astonishingly easy to get her riled up, and more than once rio has to excuse herself because she can't stop imagining the two of you touching her. despite this, she persists, snarking about "can't even do anything about me, huh?" all while having to rush off so she doesn't get hard.

the second week, she settles a little. at the same time, you and agatha team up to tease her. agatha's arms wrapped around rio as she pulls her possessively, you gently pressing kisses along her abdomen. she squirms, but because it's so soft and domestic she feels awfully bad about destroying it with how hard her bulge is straining against her boxers.

the third week is when it all goes downhill. rather than touching her, it's all about you and agatha -- fucking each other. in front of her. she feels like a voyeur, even though you two invite her to join you, but mock her regardless. it, humiliatingly, turns her on. the fact that the two of you fuck like bunnies (sorry señor scratchy) while she's in the bed, hearing you blatantly call her name while agatha coos that you're "mommy's good little girl" and that you're "so obedient, moaning rio's name like i told you to," as your mommy plunges two fingers into you.

rio holds out for a grand total of two (2) more days, each one filled with her having to camp out in the basement to avoid hearing your wet, desperate sounds of skin upon skin. what makes her break, however, isn't even contact with her cock. it's a combination of agatha and you taking one boob each in your mouths, licking and nipping gently, and agatha's hand reaching out to grasp her neck while you dig your fingernails into her back, and she keens loudly before exploding all over the sheets.

you pull back, stunned, while agatha scoffs in amusement. "i knew i'd last longer than you," she declares smugly, and rio growls once before she pounces.

-

short one this time! I've been thinking about bratty rio too but not sure what you think of that.... hmmm.......

unfortunately my workload from both my actual job AND my classes are steadily rising so i don't have the chance to type out my brainworms as much.. but please have heart and know i will always check this blog religiously, haha. all the best dear 💜

-lots of love, worm anon

Omg hey I missed you (but completely understand work and studying ugh gross)! I think we should just all settle in for a lot of horniness and despair which is such a good mix

I am absolutely obsessed with this brainworm oh my god thank you so much for sharing and I would actually be so down to write about this because fuck this is hot

[vivian-pascal]

I Don't Love You Anymore

joel x f!reader

summary: Joel had been with you for a while, you both had a nice house in New York City, he'd seen the way you'd look at him and he just knew that if he stayed for too long, you'd never find your true love. He knows he's way too old for you and you need a younger man, much younger. So he does something that will tear both you and him apart. Forever.

warnings: angst, crying, pushing and shoving, mention of what reader wears, reader slams her fists and they bleed.

authors note: i've been feeling really down in the dumps lately. I just feel like my life is slowly spiraling downhill. so I thought i'd write some lovely angst to pour my heart and soul out too!

Joel parks his truck on the driveway. Staying inside the car, thinking. Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He doesn't want to do this, god, he never ever thought he'd have to do this. Especially with you.

When you both met, you were in the airport and he had just gotten off his flight from Texas. He was heading to New York for a vacation. To get away from the suburbs and get into some classy skyscrapers.

You were walking with your phone in your hand and your headphones in. You didn't bother to look up and the next thing you know, you run into a person. Taking your headphones off, you look up to see a man.

He has salt and peppered hair, small gruff forming on his chin. You run your eyes down his entire body and instantly fall in love.

When he first saw you, he fell hard. Your small little body and the way you looked at him the day you met. He just couldn't stay away from you. He wanted to be with you every second, every hour, every day. He loved you with all his heart. You meant everything to him.

He reminisces on the days you two cuddled in bed together, laughing at each other's jokes. He chuckles to himself as he remembers you with whipped cream all over your face because he had dumped your head in cake since it was your birthday.

He turns the key in the ignition and opens the car door. Closing it, he rests his head on the window and breathes in one more time. He stands up and begins to walk to your door. He lifts his hand up and rests it on the door.

He knocks once. Patiently waiting for your sweet smile and that soft smell of your perfume. He sees the door open and there you are. His lovely girl. Standing there in a gorgeous flower dress, your hair is in a braid with little bows in the back. You smile up at him and he breathes in the smell of you for the last time.

He smiles shyly and you welcome him into your home. "Hey baby, what ya here for?" You twirl towards him and grab his hands. He pulls one back and rubs the back of his neck.

"Uh darlin', we need to talk." His face instantly twists as the small hint of fear crosses your face. "Oh." You gulp deeply as you let go of his hand. "Okay."

He walks into the living room and sits down on the lounge chair as you sit across from him on the couch. You look down at the floor and play with your hands. Waiting for him to say something.

He clears his throat and begins to speak. "I'm leaving. Tonight." Your face shoots up as your eyes instantly water. "What? When? What time? Why didn't you tell me earlier Joel? Where are you going?" His eyes become teary as he sees your panicked state. He never wanted to do this. Why is he doing this?

He closes his eyes and tries to blink away the tears. "I'm uh, heading back to Texas." You stand up and your eyes go back and forth between his face. "Joel what!? Why? I-I thought you liked it here. We have a house and-" He shushes you as he stands up and grabs your hands.

He stares down at your blood shot eyes looking into his. You look up at him mouth agape. "Are you breaking up with me?" It physically hurts him to hear the words. He closes his eyes and looks down. You remove your hands from his and look at him angrily.

"Is this what this is Joel? Your plan on breaking up with me!" He opens his eyes and sees your angry, teary, messy face. Your mascara running down your face and smudging the collar of your dress.

"Now, darlin', I-" "Don't you fucking call me that Joel." You scream at him and his face goes pale. He's never heard you yell like that before. It's like a dagger piercing through his heart over and over again.

You walk up to him and point your finger at his chest. "So all those memories we made meant nothing to you? Am I nothing to you Joel." He shakes his head and tries to back away. "No, you mean everythin to me. I don't know what I'd do if I never met you." You stand up straight and begin to chuckle.

"So if you loved me that much than why the fuck are you leaving me!" You push him and he hits the wall. Hard. Tears start falling from his eyes as he sees his girl a mess. You both just look at each other as you both cry.

He removes himself from the wall and slowly starts to walk towards you. "Don't you dare take another fucking move Joel. I swear to god." He stops in his tracks and stands a few feet away. "You don't deserve me. M'too old f'ya and I can barely do nothin'. M'not as excitin as I used to be when I was younger. You deserve someone who can take care of ya and be there f'ya when you get older." His southern drawl coming out stronger than ever as he cries.

You stare at him in distraught as he rubs his stray tears away. "Don't deserve you? Joel we've been together for two fucking years. If I didn't 'deserve' you, I would've left already." You walk towards him and grab his hands. You looks you in the eyes and shakes his head. He removes his hands and begins to walk to the door.

"Joel, where are you going? You can't just leave!" You run after him and grab onto his shirt. More tears fall from his face as he sees your tiny body trying to get him back. He opens the door and stops to look at you. "I'm sorry." He shuts the door but you immediately open it.

"Joel come back!" You run in the rain. Following him to his truck as he gets in it. You bang on the window as he backs off the driveway and leaves. You fall to your knees and scream and cry until your heart can't take it anymore. Soaking in the blankness of which was once full. You slam your fists onto the pavement of the driveway.

You pick them up to see that they're bleeding but you don't care. Nothing in your mind is making sense. 'Why'd he leave?.' 'Did he even love me?' 'Was this all a lie?'

You scream into the air and cry out. As Joel leaves, he can hear your horrid cries and bangs his hand on the window. Tears fall from his face as he sees your small body becoming a tiny speck. Nothing seems to matter anymore for him, or for you, because it seems as tho he never loved you.

tags!

@morallyinept @mermaidgirl30 @rav3n-pascal22 @mountainsandmayhem @amyispxnk @pinkcrystal44 @guelyury @iamsherloocked @itsokbbygrl @heartpascalispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @brittmb115 @kotourasan123 @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts @yorksgirl

[pamwritessometimes]

The Great Invasion: Chapter 2

Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: In a world turned upside down, where monsters hunt and hunters are the prey, Y/N must choose: follow the new rules to stay alive or join a rogue band of hunters determined to reclaim power and change the game for good.

General warnings: dark themes, gore, kind of apocalyptic vibes, language.

Chapter warnings: slight sexual innuendos, depression, ridiculous ghost talk, having dark flashbacks

Theme song of the chapter: Don't Ask Me No Questions by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Set after season 15.

Somewhat canon-divergent.

Catch up on Chapter 1 here

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: I Just Want A Little Peace Of Mind

This was… not as nice as the Mandarin Oriental. In fact, everything felt outdated and dusty, and the black satin pajama set you were kidnapped in didn’t help you feel any better — it just reminded you of the rapid downhill ride your life was taking. It was something you thought wasn’t even possible:

Everything to get worse.

The room that Castiel guy led you to was smaller than the bathroom of your last suite. While you were used to these kinds of digs back when you were a hunter, being the legendary champion of the First and Second Hunter Games had spoiled you with the perks of luxury. 

And not to mention that with that, you got another room that wasn’t quite yours.

Before you slammed the door in his face, Castiel mentioned that this room was one of the last available in the bunker. Apparently, they’d tried to clean it out, but some things from the previous owner stuck around thanks to the lack of storage space elsewhere.

A bunker. You were stuck in a goddamn bunker.

What a twist! Not only were you trapped in a completely unfamiliar place with strange people and the ex-Queen of Hell, but now you were a hunted target. Barbas wasn’t the type to let things slide.

It had been a couple of days now since you arrived, you assumed. You could hear chatter and occasional movements from other parts of the building, which you figured must be the other hunters Rowena had mentioned.

But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the sturdy walls of your room. You didn’t want to face anyone out there, knowing they’d remind you of how you ended up here in the first place, something you never even wanted.

After a day or two of letting your anger fester, you decided enough was enough. Truth be told, boredom was starting to take over. The room didn’t offer much in the way of entertainment. You could work out — a habit that seemed to stick with you even after your captivity…though, to you, this also felt like captivity. 

Still, that didn’t exactly fill up the day.

So, you decided to search the room. Castiel’s words about a previous owner stuck with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to them. Maybe sifting through the remnants of their stuff would give you some answers… and it might keep you busy for a bit, too.

Boredom and a healthy dose of curiosity got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were rooting through the various storage boxes you’d found tucked away in the corner of the room. They were a mix of old files, random junk, and a few forgotten knick-knacks that looked like they hadn’t seen the light of day in years. You came across a huge stash of R rated magazines, too.

Great.

Then, you stumbled across a stash of clothes that definitely screamed menswear, which now wasn’t much of a surprise to you: old tees, button-ups, and pajama pants that looked like they’d been on a permanent sabbatical from their glory days. Still, they fit the bunker aesthetic far better than your matching set, which was starting to feel like a bit much for this apocalypse-chic vibe. With a reluctant sigh and a ‘why the hell not?’ shrug, you decided to give it a go.

lThe pants were a nonstarter; they dragged behind you like a sad and worn wedding train, so you stuck with your own. But the flannel? Now that was a surprise. It hung loosely on you, the sleeves comically long, but there was something almost charming about it. And nothing a little roll-up sleeve couldn’t fix. The fabric was soft from years of wear, frayed at the cuffs in a way that made it feel like it had lived a hundred lives before landing on your shoulders.

What really sold you, though, was the smell. Despite their worn appearance, the clothes carried a faint, lingering fragrance, woodsy, warm, and somehow very comforting. Whatever its origin, it was soothing enough in this apocalyptic time to convince you the flannel was a keeper.

After your little bunker chic makeover moment, one box caught your eye. It was a bit more organized than the rest, filled with neatly stacked tape cassettes. Most of them were unlabeled, but one tape stood out. The label on it read: 

Dean’s Car Shaking Traxx

Well, that was… something.

Curious, you pried the tape from its resting place and noticed something odd as well: a tape player sitting smugly at the bottom of the box. A little old-fashioned, sure, but it was there. And, lo and behold, there was a set of headphones too, though slightly frayed at the edges but still in one piece. 

They both seemed to be in working condition.

You hadn’t heard any music in what felt like forever, not since Hell decided to make Earth its vacation spot. What was the last time you actually listened to songs for the sheer enjoyment of it? Probably it was with your dad before the Invasion. He used to take you out to concerts, your favorite bands, his favorite bands, on weekends. That tradition started when you turned sixteen, and he surprised you with tickets to an Aerosmith show. It became a regular thing, a tradition you kept up for years until—

You shook the thought away, eager for something that would make you feel normal, even if it was just for a few minutes. 

You plugged in the tape, set the headphones over your ears, and hit play.

“Well, Dean, please don’t be a country guy” you muttered, glancing down at the flannel you were wearing.

The first few chords kicked in, and you couldn’t help but smile.

CCR. 

Up Around The Bend.

You leaned back and thought the tape was crackling slightly, it didn’t matter and you didn’t care. For a moment, you could almost pretend the world hadn’t turned upside down and fish yourself a little piece of peace.

Castiel walked up and down the hallway, clearly waiting for someone. Every now and then, he'd glance at the different rooms and areas in the bunker.

The library was full of hunters, some reading lore books, others chatting casually. A few stayed in their rooms, likely dealing with their own thoughts — that he understood. None of them signed up for this. Others were at the shooting range, either to train for whatever came next or to numb their nerves about the whole situation, the sound of gunshots a clear indicator of it.

He had been running the bunker alone for what felt like ages. Jack was supposed to be back by now, and yet here he was, walking holes into the floor of the building. If he were human, his feet would’ve been screaming by now.

Suddenly, he froze. A familiar voice hit his ears coming from the hall from the west side of the building.

“No, no, explain it to me again” Dean’s voice rang out, equal parts frustrated and confused. “What do you mean Hell invaded Earth? How the hell does that even happen? And where the hell was Rowena—?”

Another voice, Jack’s this time, came. “I told you, Dean. Demons came up earthside, unleashing every monster they could find.”

"When did that even happen?” Sam asked, the confusion clear in his voice.

Castiel took a deep breath and started walking towards them, dreading two facts: one, it’d been Jack knows how long since he met the Winchesters; and two, it seems Kid God didn’t brief them in entirely.

It wasn’t necessarily the reunion he once hoped for.

He rounded the corner, and there they were. Dean, leaning against a table, rubbing his face as if he could somehow erase the last few hours from his brain. Sam, on the other hand, was pacing the room like a human tornado, clearly trying to solve a puzzle that was missing half its pieces and the other half was written in hieroglyphics.

Both of them looked… well, confused and mildly pissed, to put it lightly. But honestly, who wouldn’t be? Their perpetual, much-deserved heavenly nap had been rudely interrupted by yet another apocalypse. They’d dealt with more end-of-the-world scenarios than any human ever should, and now, it seemed they couldn’t even catch a break in the afterlife.

But the second they saw their long-time-no-see friend, everything seemed to stop. Time hung for a beat.

Dean blinked as he caught the eyes of the blue-eyed angel.

"Cas?" his voice cracked slightly, his lips twitching into a genuine smile.

Sam’s face softened too, once he glanced at his old friend.

Dean took a step forward, pulling him into a tight hug. Then, Sam wrapped his arms around both of them, the three of them standing there for a moment in a rare moment of peace. Like the world wasn’t crumbling outside, like there wasn’t a bloody, chaotic mess waiting to tear them apart.

Castiel smiled, a strange nostalgia creeping through his perpetual mind. 

Yet, he cleared his throat as he reluctantly pulled away. "It’s good to see you again, too" His gaze flicked from Dean to Sam. "Though I wish it was in a better situation. I'm sorry we had to interrupt your Heaven. But the world... it’s in chaos. Hell’s on Earth, literally."

Dean pulled back slightly, his grin fading into a more serious expression. "Yeah, I figured this wasn’t gonna be all hugs and ‘how’s afterlife’. Can’t even let a guy rest in goddamn peace."

Then, Jack turned to Cas. “Was everything alright while I was gone?”

The angel nodded, then added, “Rowena’s back as well.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “She brought her, too.”

Jack's smile widened a little as he processed the news. 

“That’s good” He then turned to Sam and Dean with a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Come on. I want you to meet everyone here.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “Everyone?” he echoed, sharing a quick glance with Dean before the two followed Jack toward the war room.

As they entered the room, the on-going conversation quieted and was replaced by the weight of at least a couple dozen curious stares, all pointing to their direction. Hunters of all kinds were scattered around the room. Some were fairly young, almost teens, a few of them older, battle-worn and their expressions ranged from intrigued to wary, all fixed on the newcomers.

Dean furrowed his brows, his gaze sweeping the crowd. Despite the enormous size of the bunker, the room suddenly felt suffocatingly small. It reminded him of the time they offered their home to the refugees from Apocalypse World — except now, it wasn’t just a handful of people.  This was at least three times that number, maybe more.

He glanced and Sam and then muttered, “Guess we missed the memo about this place turning into Grand Central Hunter Station.”

Sam pointed a glare at him, then turned to Jack. “So… what are we facing here, again?”

Guns N’ Roses blasted through your headphones, drowning out every thought except the music. You made it your mission to listen to every cassette tape you found in the boxes. By the time you hit cassette number three’s flip side, the music was doing its job at making you feel a bit calmer a little too well. Your eyelids got heavier with every riff and before you knew it, you’d dozed off against the headboard. 

The music was loud enough to block out the creak of the door opening, but not the voice that followed.

“Why’s there a chick in my room?” a gruff voice demanded. A pause. Then louder, like the words were physically offensive: “Listening to my damn tapes? Wearing my damn clothes?”

Maybe that last part didn’t bother him as much as the rest, though he wasn’t about to admit it. He was too busy scowling and reminding himself that this room, his room, was supposed to be his sanctuary. Instead, here you were, in his flannel, looking entirely too cozy and he woudln't admit it out loud, but also borderline irresistible for someone squatting in his space.

Or was this Jack’s way of saying, Sorry I yanked you out of Heaven, but hey, thanks for agreeing to help me clean up yet another apocalyptic mess!?

Because if so—

But before Dean could spiral further, you jolted awake at his raised tone. Your heart pounded as your survival instincts kicked in. Adrenaline surged and without fully registering who or what you were looking at, you lunged your fists.

“Whoa!” Dean yelped, stumbling back as your fist connected with his chest. He rubbed the spot but barely flinched, barely feeling anything. It was more the act that bothered him. “What the hell was that for?”

Your breath hitched as you glared at him, still half-asleep and wildly defensive. “Who the hell are you, and why are you in my room?”

“Your room?!” Dean repeated, incredulous. “Lady, this is my—” He didn’t finish before you aimed a swift kick at his shin.

Dean sighed, though it was clear he wasn’t actually hurt. “Okay, seriously, what is your deal?”

“My deal?!” You shot back, breathless and still glaring. “You’re the one creeping around in my room, touching my tapes!”

Dean stopped mid-reach for his cassette player, looking at you with a frown.

“Touching your—?” Dean sputtered, clearly at a loss. “This is literally my room, and you’re wearing my—”

Before things escalated further and you could throw another useless punch in his direction, a firm hand landed on your shoulder.

“Y/N” Castiel’s voice cut in, calm and steady. “This is Dean Winchester. He is, technically, the original owner of this room... and much of what’s in it.”

Your brain paused mid-comeback. You glanced at the man, Dean, then down at the flannel you were wearing, and finally at the stack of tapes you’d been working through.

Wait. This guy made those awesome tapes? This is the guy whose flannel I’m wearing?

Dean didn’t miss the realization dawning on your face.

“Yeah” he said dryly, crossing his arms. “That’s my flannel. And my tapes. And my room.”

Castiel sighed, already sensing the incoming argument. “Dean” he said flatly. “you died.”

Dean turned to him. “Yeah, well, guess what, Cas? I’m back.”

“Technically…”

Dean’s frown deepened. “What?”

“Technically” Castiel continued, “you’re not back in the way you used to be. You’re a spirit now, Dean. You don’t need sleep, which means you don’t need a room.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “‘Scuse me?”

You finally found your voice again, snapping your attention to Castiel. “Wait, wait, what the hell do you mean he died?”

“Y/N—” Castiel started, but you weren’t done.

“No, seriously, what the hell?” you repeated, panic and confusion rising. “Are you saying he’s a ghost? Or, like, a demon or something? How the hell did he even get in here?”

“He is not a demon” Castiel said, cutting you off. “And he’s here because Jack brought him back.”

“Am I supposed to know who this Jack guy is? And why are you saying he ‘brought him back’ like that’s supposed to make this sound less insane?”

Dean threw his hands up in the air, clearly done with you, starting to pace the room. "Great. How is she supposed to be a part of this team if she doesn’t even know who Jack is? Does she even know our lore?” He shot a glance at Castiel, as if begging for some backup, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Do you know my lore?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How about the fact that I literally crawled out of the deepest pits of demon's hell just to survive, and now I'm stuck in this insane supernatural soap opera? Pretty sure I didn’t sign up for this mess.”

Dean stopped pacing and turned to face you. “Listen, princess, I’m not exactly thrilled about this either, but guess what? The world’s ending. Again. And we don’t have time for your pity party.”

“Oh, princess? Real original, flannel boy” you fired back, stepping even closer, toe-to-toe now. “You think you’re so high and mighty because you’ve been doing this longer? Look where it got you! And mewsflash: your tapes aren’t that good.”

Alright, that last part was just you being pity.

Dean gasped like you’d just kicked his puppy. “Not that good?!”

“That’s right, you heard it.”

“You’ve got a big mouth, you know that?”

“And you’ve got a big ego” you snapped back, your pulse inexplicably speeding up as you met his fiery gaze. Up close, you could see the freckles dusted across his face and the slight dots in his green irises, and the way his upper lip curved into a perfect cupid bow. You weren’t sure if you wanted to smack him or just—

“Enough” Castiel interjected, his tone like a bucket of ice cold water thrown on fire. He stepped between the two of you, looking like a frustrated parent breaking up a sibling fight.

Dean and you both took a step back, muttering under your breaths.

“Y/N” Castiel began, his blue eyes meeting yours, his voice calm but firm. “You need to understand. Jack isn’t just anyone. He… well…Jack is… essentially God. Or, at least, the closest thing to God we have now.”

You blinked at him while his words were bouncing around your brain like pinballs. “Wait, what?”

“He’s God” Dean said bluntly, clearly enjoying your disbelief. “The big man upstairs took early retirement for being a shithead, and Jack stepped in to take over. He’s the one keeping this whole crapshow from falling apart.” Dean then leaned toward Castiel, loudly whispering, “So, I’m guessing she also doesn’t know he’s Lucifer’s kid?”

Your eyes shot to Castiel, disbelief written all over your face. “Lucifer’s kid?”

Cas nodded.

“Let me just repeat: wait, WHAT?” You threw your hands up, pacing a small, frustrated circle before spinning back to face them. “So, let me get this straight. Ghost-boy over here” you jabbed a finger at Dean, “is somehow back because the world’s new Devil-God hybrid thought it was a good idea?”

Dean crossed his arms and looked rrather affronted. “Ghost-boy? Seriously?”

“Jack’s not the devil” Castiel said, voice steady and soothing like he was talking to a toddler. “Far from it. He’s actually the one who fixed what Chuck, uh, the former god, broke.”

You let out a slow, sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, sure. The perfect way to fix God’s mess: The Devil’s spawn. Makes total sense.”

Dean let out an exasperated groan. “Alright, you are just impossible.”

“And you are dead” you shot back. “So maybe take a seat, Flannel Casper.”

Dean let out a dry laugh, the kind that oozed disbelief. “Flannel Casper? Oh, that’s real funny. Guess what, sweetheart? This ain’t your room. It’s mine. You’re the squatter wearing my shirt.”

You shot him a glare, tugging the oversized shirt tighter around you. “Well, maybe you should’ve labeled it before you kicked the bucket, Flannel Casper.”

“I swear, if you call me that one more time—”

“What? You gonna haunt me harder?”

“I’m resurrected, not haunting” Dean corrected. “And as much as I’m loving this little spat, Cas is right. Jack’s the real deal. He’s a kid with God-level powers trying to fix what’s broken. Cut him some slack.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Dean an unimpressed look. “And how’s that working out? Because from where I’m standing, the world’s still a total dumpster fire.”

Castiel sighed deeply, his expression softening a little, clearly happy Dean is at least trying to calm you down now. “We know. We all know. But that’s why we’re here, trying to fix it.” He gave a quick glance toward Dean before turning back to you. “Look, we’re not asking you to like it. Just to… cooperate.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “There’s a meeting tonight at six in the war room. It’s just down the hall.We’d like you to join us.”

He then glanced at Dean and nodded toward the door, silently asking him to lead himself out and let you weigh his words. He sighed, but complied nevertheless.

You narrowed your eyes at his back as he left, but you had to admit, something about the whole situation made you curious. You glanced at Castiel, who was still standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Do we really have God in this bunker?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes. Jack’s on our side. In fact, he’s the one who organized this.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, shaking your head slightly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me" you mumbled in disbelief.

"Believe me, I'm bad at kidding."

He then turned to leave but paused at the door.

“We’ll be in the war room at six. Think about it.”

And with that, he was gone. You leaned back against the door, arms crossed, your mind a whirlwind of frustration, disbelief, and a healthy dose of curiosity.

God-level powers. Devil’s kid. The Great Invasion. It all felt like you were stuck in the worst kind of fever dream. You couldn't decide if you wanted to scream, cry, or run. Or maybe all three.

By six p.m., the war room was packed. Well, almost packed.

You, of course, were missing.

It was the first official meeting for the hunters living in the bunker. Some had been here for over a year, while others had only recently joined. They’d all arrived, courtesy of Castiel, Jack, or whatever angel Jack had managed to charm into playing cosmic Uber. Some unlucky souls, like you, were recruited, or more like brought here without their consent by Rowena. At first, the whole thing had been met with skepticism. And who could blame them? An underground bunker full of demon traps seemed too good to be true. But, given that hunters were now the ones being hunted, this was their best shot at survival.

And now, with you and the Winchesters finally being dragged into the fold, the recruitment process was officially over. They’d rounded up every hunter in sight. The team was complete and now, it was time to figure out what the hell came next.

But none of that really mattered to you. You were currently in your room, headphones in, pretending that a meeting about saving the world was the last thing on your to-do list. Who needs that noise when you could be busy being a reluctant background character in their season finale of Apocalypse: Part 230?

You leaned back in your chair, giving the ceiling a long, judgmental stare. Maybe you’d just sleep through the whole thing. It’s not like you were going to be much help. And honestly, your bed was giving off some serious come lay down and avoid your responsibilities vibes. A good ten hours of sleep sounded like just the thing to get you through the next apocalypse.

Your body, however, had other ideas. Four days of solid room service (courtesy of mystery snack fairy) had only fueled your inner hermit, and the clock on your nightstand didn’t lie: you were starving. You had no intention of facing the others, though.

So, for now, you'd been making it work. Snacks magically appeared at your door. Just a knock, and then bam. A tray of food, like some weird, celestial version of Grubhub. You’d never figured out who was behind it, but you were grateful, even if you missed Rommer's presence sometimes and the meals he brought.

Today, however, there was no knock. No food. No magical snack delivery.

You glanced at the clock again. Six ten.

Your stomach grumbled in protest. Fine. Maybe you’d have to venture out and loot some food yourself. At least with everyone at that meeting Castiel was blabbering about, you might have a shot at swiping something before anyone noticed.

You sighed, dramatically flopping your feet onto the cold concrete floor and headed out of the room.

“This place is like a goddamn maze” you muttered as you wandered down the hallway.

You’d been wandering for what felt like hours, but only was probably a solid five minutes, trying to remember whether you’d just passed the same door for the third time or if you’d entered some cruel parallel dimension where all hallways looked suspiciously identical. At the end of your latest path, you spotted one lonely doorway, and figured, why not?

You stepped into the threshold, but then froze.

And you’d probably still be standing there, wondering what cruel joke the universe had played on you, if not for the fact that what you found on the other side was, well... a bit of a shock.

The room in front of you was packed.

Your eyes scanned the scene: hunters of all shapes, sizes, and moods. Some looked like they had been at it for decades, their faces as hard as their weapons. Others looked more like they were holding on to whatever shred of humanity was left in a world gone to hell. 

So I guess I found the war room, you thought sarcastically.

Your brain had no idea what to do with this. This was the first time you’d stepped out of your room. This was the first time you were actually face-to-face with any of them. Well, all of them.

They were looking back at you, and that, for some reason, scared the shit out of you.

“Is that—” A voice whispered from across the room.

“What the hell is she doing here?” another one piped up, followed by a chuckle laced with disbelief.

“She can’t kiss demons’ asses out of death here” someone else muttered.

Well, isn’t that just peachy? Your reputation had clearly made the rounds before you even had the chance to make an entrance. Perfect.

You had this gut feeling, the kind that whispered, Stay in your room. Don’t go. It’s not worth it. And damn, how you wished you’d listened to it. But hunger had a way of overriding any form of common sense, and now here you were, in the lion’s den.

You clenched your jaw, every fiber of your being screaming at you to turn around and retreat back to your room, where the worst you’d have to face was your own reflection. But instead, you planted your feet firmly in place, squared your shoulders and made an unspoken promise to yourself that you were not going to let their words get to you. You were better than that, right?

Or at the very least you could look like you didn’t care.

The whispers grew louder, the judgment palpable as more people recognized you. A few hunters exchanged glances so loud, they might as well have been shouting.

“She’s gonna get us all killed.”

“Should’ve left her out there where she belongs.”

Nice. A real welcoming crowd.

Dean, sitting at the table and clearly having a moment of ‘where the hell did all this drama come from,’ glanced over at you. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he somehow saw through the tough act you were putting on. Beneath all that bravado, he could see the raw and jagged edges of hurt just begging to break free.

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, Dean couldn’t help himself. He turned to Castiel with a mischievous smirk, his voice was dripping with curiosity about you. 

"So, room squatter’s real popular here, huh? What’d they mean she can’t kiss demons’ asses out here?"

“It’s… complicated” the angel replied, just realizing Dean is still a bit behind on this whole story. “She, uh, she won the Hunter Games twice.”

Dean squinted, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, that teen novel from the 2010s? With the guy with the bread name?”

Cas rolled his eyes with a quiet, almost exasperated sigh. “No. Not that. It’s a game demons set up for hunters they capture. They… They fight for their lives in an arena against monsters. And she was very favored by the monster crowd.”

Dean’s face contorted, his brain clearly still struggling to process the concept of Hunter Games, but he kept his mouth shut. His attention shifted back to you, standing there like a lion tamer on the edge of snapping.

Stubborn. Broken. Probably both at once.

It finally clicked. You weren’t just some random face in the room. You’d been through hell. Literally. No wonder the anger radiated off you like a force field. You’d been fighting demons for who knows how long. And now, here you were, in a room full of strangers judging you without even trying to understand you.

You opened your mouth to say something about maybe just finding the kitchen (if this place even had one), but before you could get the words out, you were cut off.

“Welcome! You can take a seat, if you’d like to” Jack offered you an encouraging nod.

For a split second, you froze, staring at the guy like you were trying to solve a riddle. Was this guy, with the warm smile and the kind eyes, really God and Lucifer’s kid? 

And if this kid was truly God… Should you bow? Kneel? Say Hallelujah? Maybe throw in a spontaneous hymn for good measure? You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for meeting a divine offspring, but your instincts were telling you that flinging yourself on the floor wasn’t exactly the best approach.

So, you did the only reasonable thing. You followed his simple instructions.

Your feet felt like lead as you stepped into the room, the stares burning into your back even without you actually seeing them. You spotted an empty chair near the edge of the group, far enough from the center of attention but close enough to hear whatever grand plan they were about to lay out.

As you slid into the chair, someone across the table muttered just loud enough to be heard “Hope she doesn’t screw things up.”

Without missing a beat, you shot back.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave the screwing up to you.”

A few hunters snickered, and the guy who’d spoken, Joe as you later learned, glared at you like he was about to unleash some righteous indignation but ultimately decided against it.

Smart choice.

Dean leaned toward Sam with a smirk. “Feisty. I like it.”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered under his breath, “Can we focus, please? Wait…” His eyes narrowed as he glanced at you. “Is that your shirt she’s wearing?”

Dean grinned like a kid caught stealing cookies. “Hot, innit?”

Sam facepalmed, but before the verbal sparring could go any further, Jack stepped in.

“Thank you all for coming to this meeting. Some of you may know me, but for the newcomers, my name’s Jack” he said, his eyes sweeping across the room. “We’re here because this is it. Hell’s armies are growing stronger every day, and we’re running out of time. We have to find a way to stop them before they overwhelm us completely.”

Dean, now leaning forward with his elbows on the table, raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the play? Because I’m guessing you didn’t pull us all together just to give us a ‘rah-rah, go team’ speech.”

Jack gave a faint smile but didn’t lose his serious tone. “As you all know, Hell revolted against Rowena’s new leadership. They didn’t like her reforms, making Hell less about eternal suffering and more about, well… governance.”

Your brows furrowed. 

Wait a damn minute. 

That didn’t match what you’d been told at all. Alright, demons weren’t exactly known for their honesty, but if what Kid God was saying was true, then Rowena’s leadership wasn’t the tyrannical nightmare you’d been led to believe.

Was she… not as bad as Barbas and his demon cronies had painted her?

“Every revolution has a leader” Sam said, clearly still piecing the Great Invasion together in his head. “Who led the uprising?”

“It was a demon named Malgathor.” 

The name poked at your brain just a bit, nagging like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Malgathor. You’d heard that name before. But where?

Before you could follow the thread, it hit you — a sharp and searing pain flashing into and through your skull, so sudden and intense it felt like someone was trying to peel your brain apart from the inside with a crowbar.

Your hands shot to your temples as you squeezed your eyes shut and that’s when you saw it.

A dimly lit room. Fancy but not ostentatious. Mandarin Oriental vibes, but more… utilitarian. Probably somewhere in its basement.

You were sitting in a chair, restrained. Across the room, faceless figures moved, one stepping closer. There was something about him that sent a chill crawling up your spine and you instinctively started to tremble.

And then, a voice.

“Hey!” the figure shouted. Harsh, commanding. “Hey! Are you okay?!”

But the voice twisted as the vision fractured, morphing into something softer. Female.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

You blinked hard, the image shattering like glass as reality crashed back in. The dim light was gone, replaced by the suddenly too bright fluorescents of the bunker. Dozens of eyes were on you, their expressions ranging from concern to confusion.

A blonde woman had her hand on your shoulder. “You okay there?” she asked, her voice cautious, like she was afraid you might snap at any moment.

You swallowed hard.

What the hell just happened?

You straightened, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine” you muttered, though you were acutely aware of how not fine you looked. Your face was pale, your hands trembling like you’d downed five espressos too many.

Dean’s eyed you from the other side of the table. “Fine? You just looked like someone plugged your brain into a car battery. That doesn’t scream fine to me.”

You shot him a look, equal parts defiant and exhausted. “Where were we?”

Dean frowned, clearly unsettled by your lack of snark. No witty comeback? No biting remark? That wasn’t you, not like he knew much about what was you. But if he learned anything from his one encounter with you was that you never shut up. His eyes stayed focused on you a moment longer and he couldn’t help but catch the slight tremor in your hands that you thought you were hiding so well.

Before he could press further, Sam shifted the focus. “Malgathor?” he said, his brows knitting together in thought. “How come we’ve never heard about him before?”

“Because he liked Fergus’ version of Hell” Rowena’s Scottish accent chimed in.

Your gaze flicked to her and your eyes narrowed instinctively. Something about her perfect red curls and sharply lined crimson lips rubbed you the wrong way, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. But then Jack’s words about her earlier came rushing back. Nobody else in the room seemed suspicious. Hell, they barely batted an eye at her presence.

Was it possible… she wasn’t the villain you’d been led to believe?

“Malgathor had no interest in causing trouble before. Fergus, for all his flaws, kept Hell… predictable. Contracts, misery, order. But when I took over and began implementing reforms, he turned on me. Violently.”

“Reforms?” you asked before you could stop yourself, the word tasting strange in your mouth. “What kind of reforms are we talking about here?”

Rowena’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, her expression softened. “I ended crossroads deals, stopped the eternal suffering racket, gave the damned something resembling purpose. Needless to say, it didn’t sit well with the traditionalists.”

You blinked, your brain working overtime to reconcile this version of her with the one you’d been told about by the demons who’d dragged you through hell. Had they lied? Twisted the truth? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“So” Dean said, his voice drawing everyone back. “This Malgathor guy was all-in on the Crowley’s Hell playbook, huh? Contracts, fire, long-ass lines, the whole nine yards?”

“Precisely, dear” Rowena replied, her lips curling into a grim line. “Only now, he’s expanded his vision. No longer content with Hell as it was, he’s decided to extend its boundaries. Permanently.”

Sam straightened, his brow furrowing. “You mean… he’s trying to bring Hell topside?”

Rowena nodded. 

“Not just bring it topside, Samuel. Recreate it. The whole planet, one giant pit of eternal torment, chaos, and misery. He’s determined to make Earth Hell’s crowning jewel — greater than it ever was below.”

You sat back, watching the pieces click into place for everyone else, but your mind was spinning in a different direction. Malgathor’s plan sounded insane, sure, but it also felt oddly familiar. Like you’d heard of something similar before.

“What’s the plan, then?” Dean asked, breaking the tense silence. “How do we stop this Hell wannabe dictator?”

Jack finally spoke. “We need to find his residence. He’s cloaking himself with magic strong enough to evade even me.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Even you? Aren’t you, like, God 2.0? Shouldn’t that come with a built-in demon GPS?”

“It’s not that easy, Dean” Jack said simply, then turned to you. “I may not have the means to find him… but someone might have heard something about him.”

You froze. The sudden shift in attention made your skin crawl. “Oh, no” you muttered, holding up a hand that was still trembling just a little. “Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea who this Malgathor is.”

Joe, that hunter guy from earlier shot his eyebrow up. “Oh, come on, champ. You’ve been cozying up to demons for how long? You’re telling me not one of them dropped Malgathor’s name during happy hour?”

“Cozying up to demons? Is that what we’re calling ‘being tortured and barely surviving’ now?” you snapped at him.

Sam’s eyes flicked between you and Joe, sensing the brewing storm. “Okay, let’s all just—”

“No” Joe cut him off, leaning forward with a smug look on his face and his arms crossed. “I’m serious. If anyone here knows anything about Hell’s A-list psychos, it’s her.”

“Wow, thanks” you shot back, voice laced with venom. “Really nice to know my trauma has made me your go-to demon Rolodex.”

Dean muttered a low, amused yikes under his breath, but Joe either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

Rowena cleared her throat. 

“Perhaps, instead of bickering like children, we could ask the right questions.” Her gaze landed on Joe then softened as it moved to you. It seemed uncharacteristic of her and infuriatingly annoying to you. “Y/N, dear, I understand you’ve been through… well, hell. But even the tiniest scrap of memory could make all the difference.”

“I said” you repeated and drew each word out slowly and sharper than a demon blade. “I. Don’t. Know.”

And with that, you decided this conversation was over.

Next on The Great Invasion (Sneak Peek from Chapter 3):

He picked up the silky fabric that you immediately recognized as your pajama top from earlier. “Except for this. Didn’t take you for a fancy PJ girl… But I gotta admit, this looks nice.”

But my shirt looks better on you, he thought, as he placed the black satin on the chair next to you.

“Dean… I swear, if you don’t get the hell out of here—”

Instinctively, your hand shot under the bed, grabbing the box of rock salt you’d stashed there for just such occasions.

“Woah, no need to get antsy” he said, moving his hands up in surrender.

You chuckled, glancing at the salt in your hand with a wicked smirk. “Wait, does this really work on you?” You raised an eyebrow.

Hey, you! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Looking fantastic in his shirt. 😉

All jokes aside, I hope you had fun reading Chapter 2 of The Great Invasion. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 3: coming soon!

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@thebiggerbear @spnaquakindgdom @artyandink @globetrotter28 @kaz-2y5-spn @hobby27 @lamentationsofalonelypotato @muhahaha303 @yeehawgiddyup13 @applelovesposts

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@roseblue373

[astonmartingf]

YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND—

— co-parenting with alonso has been smooth sailing, until he starts dropping hints that he wants to be with you again

P5 ★ LATE NIGHT DATE DISASTER

amgf almost 3k words i think? i'm back! honestly this was a fun write. mention of lewis and his story enjoy the condom ig? iykyk, also see you for the second half of this story we're almost ending guys 🫡 special chapter tomorrow or maybe later tonight :p

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You don't try to hide the nervous feeling inside your chest, granted it was your first time out on a date with anyone for that matter. And even more so with Alonso, the last time you went on a date with him Ales wasn't in the picture, and even after then— things went downhill for your relationship.

"Lance! You know what to do right?" You call your cousin from your bedroom. He arrived two hours early after Ales' afternoon nap and looked after him while you "prepare for your date." It was unnecessary but grateful nonetheless, Lance gave you a few dating tips in the modern times.

The thought made your eyes roll, it wasn't like dating then and now had any difference, granted the only person you dated was Alonso but it wasn’t that long ago since you went out on a date right?

“You better not use Ales as an excuse to skip out on a date, especially this one because it’s with your baby daddy, co-parent partner Fernando Alonso.” You cringe inwardly hearing your cousin talking about Alonso, knowing they also race for the same team.

“Okay, first off all what the fuck are you talking about. Second, do you actually talk to him like that?” Lance enters the room with Ales in tow, dressed up in matching pajamas with a mischievous look on his face, a telling sign of Lance possibly corrupting his young mind, or you finding another excuse to ditch a date.

“Well… there’s not much of a difference, but I do speak more freely to you than to him. So I’m just saying all this as your baby cousin Lance and as Nando’s teammate Lance. Anyways, we’re helping you outside and watching you from the driveway, are you driving?” 

You walk, Lance following you closely behind to the front door, “I offered to meet there but he’s picking me up. A proper date he said.”

Lance nods to himself, “I get it… I mean thinking back of the previous dates you’ve ditched, picking you up would be a sure fire way to have you on the actual date itself. Points for Nando today, soon he’ll get closer to the pole position.” Lance winks before raising his eyebrows suggestively, making you shudder at his stupid innuendos.

“Lance! That’s your teammate for God’s sake, and I’m your older cousin, respect us at least. Pole position? Ugh, you’re such a child. The more words that come out of your mouth, the more you’re convincing me not to leave you alone with my child. You’ll be the one going out the door with Alonso after all this.”

“Hey,” Lance holds his hands up in surrender, “I was joking, I swear no more. I will shut up, look Nando is at the gate already. Would you look at that, it’s time to go.” 

Leaving you no time to respond, Lance pushes you out the door handing a purse in your hands, the contents inside are your phone, lip gloss, a small perfume bottle, and a piece of condom. You turn around glaring at your cousin, watching through the glass window, a smirk full of mischief behind them. 

You shake your head disappointed, pulling your phone you frantically type a message before meeting Alonso waiting patiently leaning at the passenger door. “How long have you been waiting?”

It was only then that Alonso looked up, “Not too long ago… Wow— Hello. Uhm… you look absolutely stunning, breath-taking.” 

A smile grows on your face, “You don’t look bad yourself, it’s been a while huh? This…”

Alonso nods his head, opening the door for you. You sit in the car, as you catch him taking a deep breath then fixing up his suit before entering the car with what seems to be a nervous smile on his face. 

Hopefully he’s as nervous as you— sitting up straight, hands building sweat as your breaths shorten the close proximity making you feel as if there’s a limited amount of air for you to breathe. It was new and jarring. You’ve been inside a car with Alonso before, but usually you have Ales or a surgery case in mind, now it’s just you two— not as Ales’ parents but as Alonso and YN.

“I’m nervous… truth be told, I haven’t thought this far ahead, I was stuck between asking you on a date and the ways to convince you. I’ve been scrambling around like a headless chicken on what to do, but I thought about your schedule and wanted to do something more chill and laid-back night out. No stress, fingers crossed.” Alonso laughs, taking small glances in your direction and focusing on the road ahead of him.

Your heart warms at Alonso’s train of thought, his attention to detail of your schedule leaves you in awe. You feel transported back in your 20s as Alonso picks you up from work during your anniversary and opting to stay in instead of celebrating out making sure you’re well rested.

Greeted by the familiar gates of his house, Alonso pulls his car in the driveway, opening your side of the door. “I thought we could eat dinner and talk in the safety of my house, is that okay? I forgot to tell you, maybe we could’ve worn something more casual but what’s wrong with dressing up for the occasion right?”

Taking Alonso’s hands you laugh at his words, “It’s all good, I think the outfits help bring the vibe. I mean where else will I get the chance to dress up outside charity events in the hospital? Thank you for bringing us here, I prefer the comfort of your home as well, and if you’re cooking it might beat whatever food I’m craving at the moment.”

Alonso opens the door, and you are greeted with a candle-lit kitchen, the lights in the living room set to dim with the soft sound of a piano playing somewhere completing the atmosphere of the house. “For some who’s been scrambling like a headless chicken this seems well thought out.” Shrugging your coat off, revealing the back of your dress— Alonso’s breath hitches, taking the coat from your arms. He couldn’t help but stare, especially when you’re looking this good, it would be illegal, the thoughts and words wanting to spill out of his mouth.

“You take my breath away as ever. I don’t think I’ll get used to this.” You laugh at Alonso playfully rolling your eyes, slapping his hands— you try not to get his words the best of you. Despite your heart going over 300 kilometers as blood rushes through your cheeks, you shake your head knowing how well Alonso is with words. “What are you not getting used to?”

“I don’t think I’ll get used to you being the mother of my child.” A small gasp escapes your lips, his words catching you off guard. You tilt your head, unsure of what Alonso meant by his words. “I think I got lucky, despite all that happened, you’re here and I’m spending time with Ales. I’m glad we’re doing this.”

A small smile escapes your lips, nodding to yourself, “I’m glad we worked things out, I think I can confidently say I’m happy of how far we’ve come, not just as Ales’ parents but our relationship has gotten better.”

Alonso laughs in agreement, before ushering you to one of the seats in the kitchen island watching him cook him your meal, catching up on things and what not. It was comfortable, and relieving, as time passes by you grow confident at how things are with you and Alonso. Sipping wine, laughing at jokes, and taking jibes at your situation— two years ago this would’ve never happened, you wouldn’t have let yourself feel vulnerable in front of him. 

Two years ago you only saw him as Ales’ father, but now he was your friend, Alonso. You take a sip of the wine as Alonso recalls a story from the past causing an outburst from you ending up in a debate on what actually happened.

“That wasn’t it, Lewis told me what happened between him and Nico.” Alonso glanced in your direction, brows raised at the revelation. “How come you know? I didn’t hear about this.”

You were taken aback, “Lewis called me the night after. and I may have helped him from Nico…” 

This time it was Alonso who gasped, leaning on the table waiting for you to tell more about the story, “I saw them fight, and Nico’s sister was there, watching it unfold with me, I couldn’t just stand and watch, I helped Lewis and left. Frankly it was none of my business and neither should you ask me about it.”

Squinting his eyes, Alonso pieces out the timeline before staring right through your eyes, “You were there when she gave birth right?” 

You press your lips into a thin line, “I can neither confirm nor deny— patient confidentiality.” Shaking your head, you avoid the conversation all together, thinking back of Lewis and Nico just opened a whole new can of worms you’re not ready to discuss, especially not to Alonso.

Despite your poor excuse, Alonso shrugs, letting you off and dropping the conversation completely. The night was slowly coming to an end, you helped Alonso with cleaning up not before another argument on cleaning up which you won in the end, leaving him no choice and instructing you to wipe the dishes after he cleans them.

You fall into the rhythm of habit that has once been for the two of you, nursing another glass of red as you sit on the couch with him as the night grows deeper. “I’m glad I got to do this with you, especially before the season starts. Maybe we can do this once a week with Ales next time.” 

Before the season starts.

Who would’ve thought that it would only take those two words before you escape the illusion of domesticity in front of you like a fish out of water. How long have you been talking without ever mentioning racing, ever? It was only then you realized that you never discussed racing with Alonso since.

You were feeling comfortable because of winter break, in your head he was just Ales’ father— but at the end of the day you’re forced to come back to reality, and he was still racing. And the season was about to begin. 

“The season is starting?” You repeat the words out of your own lips, you couldn’t believe it. The small bubble of you and Alonso actually working it out fades into thin air. And you find yourself falling into the same loop, facing the reality that things will never work out for you and Alonso. 

It didn’t happen then, and it wouldn’t happen now— especially not now, not until he chooses to race, and as far as you’d like to hold on, patiently waiting for him, you lose confidence in yourself to hold on any longer. With a man like Fernando— he wouldn’t end the blaze his firing up in his career, and as the season starts and holds promise, you doubt he would want to put a stop and end things.

Everything is hard, Alonso is a hard man to keep up with, he’s a beast on and off the track— as much as you’d prefer to have him all to yourself and Ales, you should’ve learned that by now. It’s selfish of you to demand of him, but whenever you see him with Ales, it’s tugging on your heart strings at his best efforts to form a relationship with him— not just Ales, but it’s slowly working on you. But you won’t let yourself forget.

In love there will always be choices, and for you, you’d rather not have Alonso at all if you’ll be sharing your time with him and his damn races. And this time, you’ll choose yourself and Ales all over again. “Shit, did I say something wrong?” You blink, staring at Alonso who was mumbling to himself.

Do you blame yourself for his worries?

At one point you did, but you know Alonso of all people will understand why you choose this, and as much as you want to try, it would be too much of a risk. “It’s about the start of the season right?”

Your silence only confirms Alonso’s worries, “I’m sorry YN, do you want to go home? I can take you-” you shake your head, placing the glass of wine on the coffee table, you up and leave not before grabbing your coat and purse from the kitchen island.

Alonso was much quicker, grabbing your arms, pulling you back in, resting his foot on the door stopping you from leaving. Opening your purse he holds his breath, after catching a glimpse of the condom in your purse, presumably ignoring it, he picks up your phone to message Lance.

“You’re not leaving at this time of night. I know you don’t want to stay any longer, but please wait for a few minutes. I messaged Lance and he’s on his way, please wait.”

Your lips twitch, your emotions and intuition conflicted at Alonso. Only he could set your heart into flames and you’d gladly walk through it if it’s him at the end waiting for you. Like a ticking time bomb, a test for your strength as your eyes wander all over his face.

“You know you can do whatever you want here, and after all of it you’re free to leave.” You suck in your teeth, this is the Fernando you knew— calculative. Proud. You knew he was playing mind games, but you couldn’t just get up and leave, not when Alonso racing causes a big effect on you, you’re on the losing side here. 

You step forward, walking towards the door, leaving Alonso no place to go, back flushed at the door, Alonso keeps his eyes on you, daring you to make a move. Inching closer, and closer, you press your body against him, hot breath fanning on his cheeks, keeping your eyes right through his. Knowing well that you can leave and make him want more, you keep your body tight against his, softly grazing your cheeks on the stubble of his beard.

His hands snake behind your back, back arching at the warmth of his hands, contradicting your cool back, lighting you ablaze as Alonso pulls you closer, for a kiss. Wet and hungry, you feel him smile as you smirk at him. Your fingers tingle, throwing them on top of Alonso’s hair, tugging and pulling them as he moves down your neck peppering them with kisses as your head lolls back giving him free range, like a painter presented with a blank canvas.

Your eyes roll, hips flushed against his, you’d gladly let yourself get lost in this moment, you’d gladly surrender yourself in his arms— but as much as you want to stay, the lights of Lance’s car pulling up outside the gate evokes a wake up call from you.

Pushing him away, you hand him the coat before turning around, it seems Alonso isn’t finished as he pulls you in closer for another kiss, whilst helping you put the coat on, pinning your ass flat against his before pressing sloppy kisses all over your neck. It was hot and heavy— head tilted to the side, as your hands ghost over his cheeks before yanking him away from you.

You stand in front of him, eyes staring over his brown ones as you watch a reflection of yourself, you wipe the smudged lipstick with your thumb before smearing it all over Alonso’s lips. You could barely ignore the sound of his heavy breaths leaving you intoxicated. “I guess this is goodbye, Alonso.” 

You pat his cheeks softly with a small smile on your face, grabbing your purse and pushing him to the side leaving him frozen as he watches you walk past him, making your beeline to the gate and onto Lance’s car.

“Is everything okay?” Lance asks you as you enter the car.

You nod, not trusting your own words. “Yeah… things— they happen.”

Lance nods, dropping the conversation before driving you back home.

You’ll never catch yourself slipping, not again.

★ YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND — @namgification @nebarious @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @lxclerc @booksandflowrs @c-losur3 @lichterfee @moonyzsworld @e-nonsense @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @thearchieves @welovediaaxx @vogueprincess @mael1pastry @khaylin27 @whydowesleepeachnight @iridescent-sol

[m-ayo-o]

emoji event 🍒💔🖤 : virgin!reader + breakup sex + suguru 18+ messed up emotional situation, depression mention, insensitive reader, good fuck w the saddest boy around :( wc 1k for @i-literally-cant-with-this !! ty for requesting this one was soooo hard

You've been pulling away from him for months.

He can feel the distance. 

Or perhaps he's pushing you… he finds it easy to blame himself these days, with the way he's been suffering. All the negative thoughts stacking up, one by one. With each curse he collects, another part of his soul dies. He wonders how much longer he can keep this up.

Either way, your relationship is going downhill.

Since you're a few years younger than him and he's your first boyfriend, he hasn't been pushy with you physically and you've never even had sex all this time.

But now, after another dramatic argument centering around his apparent self loathing and lack of motivation, things are getting quite heated.

If only you knew what he was going through. If only you understood the burden that weighs so heavily on his shoulders.

If only he could tell you.

But he can't.

And he can't stop you hating him.

And with the way you're going, he's going to end up hating you too.

"You don't even want to fuck me, do you?"

He's pulled from his thoughts.

"What?"

You turn to face him, tears in your eyes, "You don't want me."

He can hear the pain in your voice now, everything slipping into place. He realises, through no fault of his own, without even meaning to, he's been neglecting you. He's been hurting you.

"Wait, it's not-"

He panics. But it's already too late. You can't stand it anymore. It's not that you hate him, it's not that you're blaming him for being depressed... you feel guilty thinking like this, but you need the old Suguru. You need the Suguru you met last summer, under blue skies, with that confident smile and those flirty eyes.

You need him. But he's not coming back.

"All I wanted- was for you to be my first, ever since I met you, Suguru... I loved you..."

"Wait, wait- loved?"

"I have to go, I have to leave, Sugu, I can't stay here. With you-" your sniffling and hiccupping is persistent now.

"No..." he steps up to you now, leaving his apathy behind to clasp your hands, "no"

His grip gets forceful while he leans down to face you, nose to nose.

His dark eyes flit between yours; tear stained and puffy. He presses his forehead to yours and blinks away his own tears.

"You can't go," you feel his breath on your lips, for the first time, feeling that desperation and want from the man you so sorely crave.

You shake your head.

"'s too late"

"No, no, baby, please," he grabs the back of your neck now, his expression turning pained.

"Please..." his voice mellows again, "please let me show you... how much I love you"

You blink up at him with those pretty, watery eyes. It's been ages since he told you that.

"Sugu, it, it's different-"

"Please," he insists, pushing you till your ass meets the kitchen counter and his arms surround your body.

"Let me," he presses kisses to your cheeks, like he's trying to make the tears disappear, "let me do this."

Your lip trembles, but you nod and accept a soft, longing kiss.

And another. He keeps going, more and more, until he pushes your mouth open. He takes his chance, slipping his tongue against yours in a kiss so deep and loving he might just convince you to stay. At least for one more night.

"It's really over?"

You look up at him and nod, not knowing what to say, and he claims your lips again; your whole mouth.

This kiss feels heavier, now you can feel the warm trickle of tears down your cheeks. You can't tell if they're yours or his.

But you don't care. You get lost in the moment, finally feeling him touch you how you need it.

Now you're all over each other, everything is just going so fast.

You tug at his hair, then his shirt, stripping him and exposing his muscular chest.

"Suguru…" you don't want to leave him.

You pull at his belt now, undoing his jeans and getting your hands on him.

He looks a little hesitant, but moans at the contact, his hips starting to move as you stroke and palm him.

"Baby," his hands find your waist now, "let me take your virginity."

And there it is.

That sexy, charming voice of his has got you weak at the knees.

"Y-yes, Suguru" you blink and nod, feeling stunned, "yes."

He lifts you instantly, taking you into another hot kiss while your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in tighter to feel every smooth roll of his hips.

"Sugu- ah-"

The bulge in his shorts feels heavenly between your legs- you're so touch starved he could easily get you cumming in your pants, just as he has many times before.

But tonight you're finally getting the real deal.

One of his slender hands pushes your skirt up, panties pulled aside, making you gasp. You can't help the look of hesitation that crosses your face.

"You want me to touch you?"

"Uh huh, yeah Suguru, I, I just need to feel you, please," you're borderline sobbing, hearing his voice so smooth and assertive.

He can't believe you're getting like this for him. He didn't realise you wanted this so badly.

So he taps at your clit, building up that pool of slick that's just perfect for sliding his fingers through. Then into you, slowly, seductively working you open. With each suck to your lip and every pump of his fingers, your pussy throbs and aches for him.

He watches your eyes cloud over with lust when he pulls his fingers out of you and proceeds to smear the wet juice all over his cock.

"Ngh, so fucking wet," you hear him moan, spreading your legs for him eagerly while he pumps himself and massages his tip over your clit.

He quirks up an eyebrow, giving a final check over your expression to ensure you're not backing down, and starts sinking himself inside.

"Ah!"

"Shit- I'll go slower, sorry"

You cling onto his shoulders, watching him bury himself into you, inch by inch.

He gets you crying his name, now he's pushing on such a sensitive part inside you- one you've never touched.

You take in sharp little breaths, the feeling starting to overwhelm you.

"Does it hurt?" He asks softly, pressing kisses over your cheeks.

You nod and stroke his hair.

"Yeah, Sugu it hurts…"

Fresh tears prick in your eyes, feeling the spread of his cock, the ache in your core, in your chest, in your heart.

You never thought your first time would be like this.

It was never meant to be like this.

But god, he feels amazing.

Your body starts to relax, your mouth hanging open with a soft moan as you start to enjoy the motions of his body; your bodies, entwined as one.

"Does that feel nice, baby?"

He holds your legs open and steady, fucking you slow, getting your insides all knotted up with his sweet words.

"Yeah, f-feels so good- s-so full"

"Mm, you feel that really nice deep spot I'm hitting?"

He watches your eyes roll back. Of course you can.

"Yeah, Sugu-"

"If I keep touching you there you'll cum- you want that?"

He sounds so fucking sexy all you can do is nod and take him.

"Yeah, I know you do, I know, let me do it for you"

He fucks you so sensually, your hands tangled in his hair with his lips sucking at yours, your bodies undulating together; pulsing like waves.

You collide again and again, in and out, until you're introduced to a new kind of pleasure.

He fucks you through the most intense orgasm of your life- you know it may be the last he'll give you. Seeing you lose yourself, leaning back on the counter to accept every ounce of pleasure, he fills your body to the brim.

"Ngh, yeah, well done baby- how does your little virgin pussy like my cum, hm?"

"F-feels hot, Sugu"

He pumps you slower and slower, bringing you down gently.

"Did so good sweetheart."

He kisses your cheek and brings your head to his chest, his body engulfing yours in a big hug.

"Now you can at least say you'll miss the sex," he hums and kisses your head.

He lets you get cleaned up, watching you set your clothes back in place while he savours every moment of your presence. He knows he's going to have to watch you walk out that door at some point.

"Stay," he brushes your hair out of your face, "just for tonight."

"I-I-" you hesitate, looking down.

"Then I'll let you go."

Suguru, why are you doing this to yourself?

"It won't hurt as much if I get to fuck you a few more times."

suguru | m.list

[raziiyah]

I love how it's a common headcanon within the collective fandom that prior to the whole Scream Extractor ordeal, Randall was in a romantic relationship with someone that went south due to him becoming more and more involved in the Scream Extractor

Like not even just your oc, but I've noticed this with a lot of ocs that get shipped with Randall?

Like wow Randall fans certainly live for that angst huh? 💔

(yes i sketched this because of this ask)

okay first off thank you sm for sending me an ask related to my oc, i've had her for a very long time but i've never shared her on any of my socials prior to this year so i'm happy to talk about her!

with a character with randall yeah angst is inevitable 😔✊️ i've seen a bunch of art of people's ocs that they ship with randall, but i'm mostly unfamiliar with narratives that people give said ocs so that's interesting to hear! i'm curious on how other people write the scream extractor plot into their stories

if im being real, if i wasn't in love with randall (a world i don't even want to imagine LOL) i don't think i would've headcannoned him to have a romantic partner

but HAHA guess what i am, so yeah randall has a wife and it's me!!! :)))

UM okay so for real though, how i've written it, is that lia and randall's relationship didn't exactly go downhill after randall started working on the scream extractor. yes they fought more after randall started working on the scream extractor for reasons i will mention here, but they were just as supportive and caring towards each other since university, and still very much in love. in fact, right before the events of mi, their life was at a peak. randall was on the path to getting the scare record, and lia was about to transfer from scare industries to start a new career at monsters inc. they were both happier than ever. but of course, you know what happens to randall during mi's runtime

lia was unaware that randall was building a scream extractor. sometimes randall would feel guilty about keeping such a big secret from her and sometimes ponder about the lies he's told her while in bed with lia lying just right next to him. sometimes, randall would return home extremely hungry and lethargic with his lunch uneaten, from working on the scream extractor on his lunch break. with randall having little time to work on the scream extractor in the day he would often also stay at work after hours to engineer and refine it, which would cause him to arrive home very late. causing lia to worry. sometimes lia wouldn't see him until the next morning. randall's late nights and absences didn't go unnoticed.

whenever lia would confront him about it, randall would brush it off and make up different excuses such as having to stay late to do paperwork or wouldn't specify and would say things like waternoose had a task for him or he was just busy with "work stuff." a couple times she'd even find some stray papers hanging out from randall's work bag or in his office at home such as odd blueprints or a list of strange tools and parts to aquire (i don't think she'd ever get a good look at them) though she let him off for a bit, after some time, lia wouldn't buy it

when lia would accuse randall of hiding something, he would deny it up and down. but with lia seeing past his facade, she would sometimes keep pushing him to tell her the truth, while randall insists that he is or tells her to mind her own business. unable to mention the scream extractor, and just saying that he's busy, lia would also think that he's putting too much attention into work and isn't taking care of himself, as well as putting his job above their relationship. this would typically result in arguments.

these arguements could get quite explosive with randall's short temper and lia's stubborness, but after some time to cool off they would eventually make up and apologize to each other. lia would tell him things such as she's happy that he's close to getting what he's wanted for years (the scare record) but she's worried about him working so hard that he's compromising all other aspects of his life, and bring that she can't help but worry when there are times where she doesn't see him all day. randall, focusing lia's attention away from the scream extractor and towards the scare record would express his feelings and tell lia that once he gets the scare record he'll feel comfortable with taking it easy and they can truly live the life they want but right now he can't afford to slow down. however, he'd sometimes feel bad and make some time for himself and lia, even if only a little. this would slow down the production of the scream extractor, but these moments would only be temporary. lia would sometimes tell randall things like "you know you can tell me anything" and randall would ensure her that he knows and he will. however, lia would sometimes still have suspicions

the scream extractor was an undercover operation, and considering its ethics, i don't think randall would've told lia about the scream extractor until it was finalized, if at all

for me at least, i try to write lia in a way that is in harmony with the canon story as much as possible. i love mi and randall as they are so i do not want to drastically change his personality or alter him or the story in an outrageous way. lia and randall have been together since uni and i'm hoping to uncover more about their relationship through my posts, and i've hopefully made it in a way that makes their relationship believable

i think randall's bitter attitude and temper is definitely something he accumulated from years of trying and failing to overtake sulley which impacted his temper and attitude in general, so even if he's not angry at lia, his frustrations with work/sulley/fungus/scare record/scream extractor/etc can cause him to be hot headed, impatient, and give lia attitude since he's already agitated

even though issues arose after randall started working on the scream extractor, they didn't fall out of love or anything during it's construction, but it certainly dampered their relationship. after all randall is a villain and his personality, actions and story are going to interfere with a perfect relationship (which no relationship is 100% perfect but you get what i mean) so of course its going to come with some angst, but it just makes things more real and interesting lol 😃✊️

[edapparently]

Dark Rise by C. S. Pacat - My Thoughts

So I'm doing another book "review" post. I'm mainly making this because of how strongly I feel about this book, there will be many spoilers, so if you are only part way through or are intending to read Dark Rise by C. S. Pacat then you should not read this post I bought Dark Rise out of a desire to try something new. If you know me, then I don't need to tell you how much I adore Comedy Science Fiction. But Dark Rise is a Dark Fantasy, a genre I am new to, and I was willing and open to giving it a shot. I had also bought it from the small library section of "The Gay Shop" in my city - a store that sells things specifically for and about the LGBTQ+ community. And I had figured that even if I didn't enjoy the story, I could at least get a little kick out of the queer elements of the story. After all, who doesn't look forward to the prospect of some kind of gay Fantasy Romance? Even if it is weaved into a larger and darker plot. However, I finished the book last night and found myself not only dissatisfied, but annoyed and disappointed. The first half of the book, I have no issues with, I actually enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would. However, this first sign that things would start going downhill struck me in Chapter 17, which is not long before the book's halfway point. The chapter begins very well and it was probably the only time in the book I found Katherine entertaining to read about because of her perspective and how her own expectations of what a Lady is supposed to be, based on "polite society", weigh upon her mind. The problem I have comes when Will strikes up an immediate romance with her. They meet once and we are expected to want Will and Katherine to get together. I don't like this for two big reasons. The first is that it feels forced, Katherine had only appeared once in the whole story beforehand and only for a single chapter. Not only that, but Katherine and Will kiss the very next time they meet (Chapter 23), and that one meeting they have does not spark any kind of a convincing romance between them. The second reason is that it is extremely irritating to see the Heterosexual romance allowed to be shoved into the forefront, but any kind of queer love is reserved for quiet whispers, implication, villains or the dead. In a book that loves to occasionally wink and nod about two men being romantically interested in each other, there is actually little to almost no actual gay romance within the story. Sure, we meet gay characters, plenty of them. Most of them die before they do anything, however. There is never once a kiss, or even a hand held between two men. The closest thing I can think of is the scene of Devon and Tom in Violet's house while she's snooping, but that never goes anywhere because we never see Tom again after that. It feels strangely passive aggressive, though I don't believe that to be the intention of the author. Something that feels like a real slap in the face though, is the final chapter. Will and James meet, alone, and they basically flirt. The idea of them being together is brought up, they think about it... and nothing. The book just ended. It is aggravating, to say the least. The worst part of it all is that Dark Rise had a lot of potential, I didn't go into it wanting to dislike it, I even enjoyed it for a while. But as a gay reader, I think I had my expectations too high for Pacat's intentions for her queer characters. I don't think I will read the sequel, Dark Heir, unless I hear better of it. If I really think about the time I had reading Dark Rise, I don't want to think of this book as bad, but regardless, it did very much disappoint me. In conclusion, if Dark Rise was a plane I would describe it like this: "It has a promising, even wonderful, take off. Shame about all the bodies they found at the crash site, though."

[fertilize-my-eggs]

Shigi X Y/N :D Pls! i'll follow you! wait i already am.

Desperate little thing shigaraki x fem reader (oneshot)

A/N: I apologize for the long wait but there your request for a oneshot, I hope it good for youuuu!! I base this a bit on how dabi and toga join the lov but I kinda forgot how it went so I apologize for this sounding a bit off. 18+ no minors, antis or ageless blogs interact with my blogs thanks you!! (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠) Hope y'all enjoy this oneshot. (This is a one shot where the reader is desperate for him and wants him needy)

Warnings: smut smut SMUT + light choking + both virgin losers losing it together + unsafe sex + creampie + spit + cum eating.

I was in the middle between the blonde girl and the man with the black hair.

Her name was toga, she was asking me to come along to join this group… uhh I forgot what it was called, she was yapping my ear off that I completely forgot about this group.

I stare into a man that has light blue hair… beautiful red eyes, it's hard to tell what he looks like without the mask but I started to blush and felt like I'm staring too hard at him.

“ state your name and quirk? ” he pointed at toga as I put my hand behind my back.

“ I'm himiko toga!! This is my best friend Y/n~” she's pull my shoulders closer to her as he rolls his eyes as he tsk.

“ I said quirk, not her. ” I look down awkwardly as I feel her hand being removed from me.

“ I can transform into anyone by using their blood, are you and stainey close? ” I can tell he is getting irritated by this as he mumble.

“ I don't get it. Is she crazy? ” he pointed at the guy with the dark blue jacket.

“ What is your name and quirk? ”

He makes a tsk sound as he tilts his head.

“ I go by dabi.. I used a quirk that relates to fire.” he begins to scratch his neck as he growls.

“ What is your real name? You can't be hiding secrets while joining tsk. ” I see dabi rolling his eyes as he said.

“ I will tell you when I achieve my goals but for now it's dabi. "Then he pointed at me while scratching his neck.

“ you… don't be a brat like him, what your name and quirk. ” I felt like he was staring into my soul as I blush, I play with my hair nervously.

“ my name is y/n and my quirk is called uhh… dream imaginary, I have the ability to control, manipulate dreams and I can enter it into their mind as well.” I look down to my feet as he rises up.

“ Giran get rid of these punks, they sound like brats. '' Then everything went downhill from here, I watched toga and dabi went forward towards shigaraki as I was holding her cardigan as I watched everything in a blink of an eye.

Kurogiri stop everything by his quirk as they stop their actions as Tomura was pissed as he said.

“ I need some fresh air, I'm leaving.” I watch him leave as Himiko puff her cheeks out as she crosses her arms.

“ Shigaraki, do you want them in your group? ” Giran said as Tomura paused for a second.

“whatever.. they can stay. I don't care. ”

“ rude… y/n, let's get something to eat and then come back. ” I nod my head as I look at the new boss, he quit…. Handsome when I saw him remove his hand mask away but it was a split second as he left.

I couldn't help but find him cute as toga pulled my arm away.

It's been a couple of days since I joined their group and whenever I see our boss alone at the bar drinking away with his drink while reading a newspaper.

Toga pokes my cheeks as she giggles.” y/n-channnn, I can tell something up with youuuu!! ” she did her happily singing voice as I started to blush as I looked away from him and toward toga.

I can tell her smile has gotten bigger then usually as I look away to feel my cheeks getting hot.

“ you likeeee himm don’t you y/n-chan! ” I cover her mouth as I shush her.

“ shhhh!! He will hear you toga-chan… I-” why do I feel nervous? I feel like a toga whenever she's talking about her crushes and gushing about them as I sighed dreamily seeing him alone and needing company.

“ I can't describe it but he looks.. lonely by himself and I-.. ” toga push you up and say.” you should sit with tomura-kun!! Go for it y/n-chan. ” I begin to blush red as I move my arms fast.

“ w-wait toga don't do that I…” I was forced to sit down next to him as toga smiled happily and said.

“ Have fun!! You guys have similar things to talk about, I'll be going~ ” with my shocked expression as I see toga skipping away happily as she went out with sister magne. I can feel his eyes stare behind my head as I start to feel nervous, I slowly turn towards him as I smile.

“ heyy boss, how are you? ” I wave awkwardly as he looks into my eyes, it's hard to tell what he is thinking and feeling by this.

He turned away as he look at the newspaper, you didn't notice his cheeks getting a bit pinker than usual as I tried to make small talk with shigaraki.

“ would you like a drink miss y/n? ” I turn towards Kurogiri as I smile.” yes please… uhh I'm not sure what to get to be honest. ” I put my thumb on my lip as I think, Tomura was not looking up from the paper.

“ you can try my drink… I recommend it.” I tilt my head towards him then at kurogiri.

“ Kurogiri make the drink for her. ” I feel my cheeks heating up as I nod my head.

“ Thank you.. ” I smile at this as Kurogiri pulls a glass out to make my drink as I wait.

“ So.. ” I could barely hear it but it was my boss who spoke, it was quiet.

“ I hear toga say that we have similar things to talk about. What does she mean by that? ” I tilt my head at Tomura as I blush.

“ oh… uhh I hear you like video games and uhh.. ” I look away as I cover my cheeks.

“ I enjoy playing video games and toga barely plays with me saying that she sucks at the game. ” for the first time I've seen my boss smile as he says.

“ Oh yeah? That's interesting, me and spinner play games too.” I feel his hand touch on top of mine as his pinky is away from my skin as I smile.

“ You should play with us on League. "My smile get wide as I spoke softly.

“ yeah!! We should do that, play together. ”

Afterwards Shigaraki invited me into their gaming. It was a bit hard but I need to be closer to him and need his full attention.

I would touch his hands a bit often, he got spooked when I first touched his skin gently then I started to touch his shoulder from time to time.

He got used to my touches and I think he wants more. He would pull me into his room and ask me to lay on his slim thighs while he played his game.

Today, I got a bit needy and desperate for him as I walked into his room out of the blue.

He turned towards me immediately,he looked a bit confused about this encounter, I walked towards him with a love heart in my eyes as I bit my lips.

Fuck it, I hope he doesn't kill me off the bat, I thought to myself. I sat on his lap as he dropped the controller onto the floor, he was bit taken back by this and was off guard by you sitting on his lap.

I put my chin on his shoulder as I hug him close, I play with his hair as I press light kisses to his neck.

He gasps from this, he has no clue how to act with you on top of him. I pull away to see him wearing his earphones as I hear tiny screaming coming from his earphones as I smile at him.

“ sorry… I couldn't help myself, you're so… cute and I want you so bad~. ” I didn't give him a chance to speak as I pressed a kiss on his lips as I pulled him close.

I was expecting him to push away and to yell at me for making him lose but I gasp into the kiss and feel him grab my hips to grind upwards slowly. I feel it, I feel my cheeks getting hot, I feel his hard-on poking at my crotch area feeling myself getting wet by this.

“ f-f .... ” he groaned from the feeling as he helped me bounce on his lap.

“ Forget the game!! I can't wait any longer. I need you too. ” he quickly moves forward to close the game as he turns his computer off completely.

“ please.. ” he huffed out air as he looked up at me. “ Please take your lower clothes off, I feel like I'm gonna explode. ” I nod my head as I quickly remove my pants and underwear. Shigaraki starts removing his pants as I gasp loudly.

He was not… wearing underwear, his penis flopped out but it hit his belly, it's so pretty just like him, nice shade of pink on his head, pretty veins on the side and I started to get nervous by the size.. Jesus, how does he hide that thing? It looks a bit uncomfortable.

He groaned as he said.” come here please.. ” he wiggles his finger towards me as I look away.

“ uhh don’t you have any protection or uhh lube? ” I tile my head at him as he sighs.

“ huh? I don't have any of those.. we don't have time….” I watch Shigaraki spit at his dick as he rubs it up and down as he coo at me.

“ Come here, you made this mess happen. ” I pout my lips as I smile quietly.

I get on top of him, grabbed his base to my entrance, is this how sex work? I don't know what I am-..

I heard him grunt as he put his hands on my hips to push downward, I gasped from the sudden feeling as I closed my eyes tight.

“ desperate little thing… ahh I couldn't help myself, you're taking too long. ” I'm struggling with this new feeling, his cock feels strange but in a good way.

I feel like my hymen just broke from him pushing deep inside of me, I roll my head back as I bounce up and down… it was sloppy, I didn't know how to do this and shigaraki was getting a bit pissed by this.

He grabbed my neck out of nowhere as I gasped, I held his wrist, it wasn't too harsh but a light press onto my skin and his fingers away from my neck.

He helped me by controlling the rhythm but also was helping me to make both of us feel good.

I cry out feeling his tip hitting that sweet spot as I moan his name out loud, I roll my eyes back.

“ c-crap I can't last anymore-.. ” he removed his hands away from my neck to pull me closer to him, I felt his hand grip my hips tight and hold me still.

I felt it, my eyes widened in pure shock, the hot flow of his semen hitting my cervix, I sob out as warmth feels nice… it's like hot coco in the cold winter.

“ sorry….” he mumble as he put his face close to my neck as I blinked a few times.

“ it's okay… did you feel good? ” he nod his head as I feel his hand move to my hips as he makes me move as I moan out.

“ you didn't get to cum right? ”

“ … yeah.. ” I turned my head bashfully, the first sex felt good but it hurt a little and I didn't feel my orgasm. Maybe it's hard for females to have a big orgasm.

I see him smirk as he says.” get on the bed. ” I immediately get off, I cringe a little from the noise coming out of me as I look down to see his cum slide down my thighs, my legs were wobbly from the sex.

“ That's… hot. ” I heard him mumble, I assume he's talking about it, I started to feel heat. I lay on my back as he was getting up and getting undressed.

I've never seen him fully naked as I started to feel my cheeks getting more red by the minute he dropped down to his knees as he began to eat me out.

I gasp from this feeling as I begin to squirm from this.

“ hold still.. mhmm you taste good~ ” I heard him groaning from this, feeling his arm wrapped around my thigh to pull me close, it felt sensitive, I felt like a knot was coming undone as I screamed his name.

A flash of light hit my view as I pant heavily, was that my first orgasm?? God this is… incredible.

I've never felt like this before and I want more. He pulled away to lick his lips as he coo.

“ god… you're so beautiful like this.. do you wanna. ” he looked away feeling embarrassed as I tilt my head in confusion.

“ Do you wanna be my girlfriend? Also do you want to play round two? ” I smile as I feel joy in my chest as I nod my head.

“ yes and yes to the last part!! I'm in the mood… that was intense~. ” Tomura chuckles at my response as he presses a kiss on your lips.

“ challenge accepted~!! Ready for this gameplay player two? ” I nod my head, giggling happily, feeling Tomura pulling me close to him.

“ hell yeah!! ”

[splitster]

answering more asks!!

featuring pom wraith, pingo, ocs?!, and older art check it out (three's some art 💖)↓↓

THANK you!! ohhh i do have old pikmin ocs... i actually revamped my old captain a while back, i can share him:

i had a whole crew of pikmin ocs who were a part of the S.S. Harmony, they were gonna be SUCH a nuisance to everyone they ran into...

i thought about making a rescue corps oc for fun. hrmm! maybe...

AHHH thank you!! i've seen a shocking number tags and asks from people saying that I'm apparently the reason they like Dingo now? and i have to say that is so mind boggling to me, because when i first played Pikmin 4 I didn't care about him at all!! he was a nothing sandwich to me... but then i drew him a few times... and started thinking... and then things went downhill and now i REALLY like him...

(referring to this post) i think dingo is better when he's withered

(referring to this comic) I HEAR YOU... I HEAR YOU... but if any tear at all would cause oxygen poisoning, i wouldn't be able to draw them all battered and cool :(

i imagine that there's a seal around the neck in case there's a breach in the suit's lining. so as long as their backpack (life-support) works and is connected to their helmets, then they can breathe✨

(referring to this post) Olimar would be horrified because he knows Louie, and if he sees that note there's only one thing it could mean! his coworker tried to eat pom!! if pom hasn't been outed as wraith and Olimar is questioning her, she'd just say Louie bit her and then refuse to answer any follow up questions 💖

Shepherd would be... concerned. she might think they have a weird fling going on and louie's talking about a kiss? she probably wouldn't realize Louie quite literally means he ate something from pom. oops!

that's a really good question... I'll be honest, with a lot of the "when and how did x happen" questions, there's not an official timeline or anything; the pom wraith au is sort of an umbrella with a bunch of different stories and what-ifs underneath it. although there was one story where louie does find out her secret!

louie and pom end up bridging their differences (with the help of olimar), and become good friends while pom is continuing the rescue effort. then there's a very unfortunate incident where pom and louie are away from the base and they're attacked... pom has to reveal herself to defend them and she accidentally hurts louie :(

its fine though, louie doesn't care what pom is. they're both freaks in his mind and that's all that really matters. he does end up having to defend pom from olimar (who's been made vindictive through his trauma with the plasm wraith) sometime later!! here's some older art:

sure

me too! they do NOT get along... louie's kinda pissed at her for chasing him around on PNF404 and beating him in dandori battles when he just wants to stay there and vibe. pom meanwhile doesn't understand him, he pisses her off too! she likes olimar a lot, and as an outsider it looks like louie doesn't appreciate the friendship olimar offers him. to someone who's trying to understand and participate in this whole friendship business, she thinks he's ungrateful and weird. they do not get along!! at the beginning at least...

AHHHH!!! THANK YOU!!! WAHH...🥺💖💖 i'm very glad you enjoy my silly little art style!! i want to make things very squishy so i appreciate that 💖

i don't think that man is going to live!

wait actually if you eat enough maybe you just turn into a wraith. that'd be scary! hopefully olimar's there to stop him

that's a fun thought! he would probably be able to sense that something is off about her. but he'd also probably just think "she's weird like me." honestly, the whole wraith thing doesn't really matter much to him -- the only thing it changes is that pom can now offer her tendrils as a skewer for his cooking at any time and location!

i think i'm gonna call her rose wraith!! and ohh, i didn't know that... i was just gonna call her rose wraith since she has a rose head. i'm creative i promise

(referring to this post i think) AHHH hehe... honestly, when Pom first learns about Dingo's fear of blood, she only tries to keep him from it because it's really annoying dealing with your coworker when they faint. he's like a sack of potatoes when he's knocked out. but yes, as they become actual friends pom will (subtly) do her best to keep blood away from dingo. it's fortunate she doesn't have any!

she might not get phobias, but she understands what its like to have a crippling fear, so she's empathetic!

THANK you. he has sunglasses. he's pretty cool

AHH THANK YOU... i like them a lot... 👉👈

let the marching pikmin give you the energy you need to practice🫡

[jackwhiteprophetic]

okayokayokay you asked for asks so i'm asking (i'm hoping these aren't things you've already answered, and for like a dissertation back because i love reading all your thoughts)

i think s7 really suffered from inconsistent writing (and a plot that wasn't cohesive at all, esp because it's an ensemble cast) do you think s8 will do better? i'm really hoping it does.

i miss shenanigans. like s7 definitely had some but i think the season was so short and a little all over the place, i feel like we deserve some hijinks (esp because of gerrard being back)

if you had like an ideal disaster arc that led to buddie getting together (i'm thinking shooting 2.0) what would it be?

also i love carlo's song

I LOVE ALL OF THIS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH. Unrelated but I'm currently feeling SO pissed off because I tried to long onto my childhood email account for nostalgia fun and THEY DELETED ALL MY OLD EMAILS.

I love to hear that people like to hear me talk, especially about 9-1-1, so THANK YOU ALSO!!! I really love your questions, and never worry about if I've answered them before because I will always answer again AND I actually have no memory of anything I say ever, so I will probably think it's a new thing every time.

Yesss so I think with S7 the writing was rushed and the filming was rushed due to strikes and stuff, and the new network, like it was all fresh and new and chaotic. They knew the things they had to hit (cruise ship, Madney wedding) and they hit those well. But in between it didn't flow very well, because they shifted things around. I think the issue started with the Bachelor (not party) crossover in 704. They had to swap over different storylines to make room, they ended up deleting an entire scene they had films and that we had stills for (which I think was someone up high somewhere which COULD HAVE BEEN A VERTIGO REFERENCE???). So yeah. Things went downhill a bit because while individual storylines were interesting, people were kept fairly separate and there weren't even really any team scenes where they all discussed things (because they weren't sure which order they'd do, they can't have Buck and Eddie slightly annoyed at each other in the background of a Hen and Chim scene bc they might swap the storylines between episodes the week before the episode airs).

And to make up for the lack of fluidity, they had the medal ceremony. Which just didn't really hit, maybe because we'd seen so many stills that we didn't get scenes of, and because yeah, it wasn't very fluid so bigger scenes felt kind of off? It must be so fucking hard for the actors to be making decisions for scenes when they don't know which order it's going to have been in.

I also think they slowed down after they found out about season 8, and they've already started writing, and I think the fact they have more time to film and more actual episodes will mean it's more fluid.

I do find it so interesting though how the fact that they only had 10 episodes and essentially still tried to fit 18 episodes of plot into that, tied with them knowing there may be new viewers and having to reintroduce characters and dynamics, they reduced relationships right down to what they are prioritising that the viewers see. So we have Bathena and Bobby grappling with his past, so the audience knows Bobby's past, and we have Hen and Chim and how their families are linked and their own family dynamics, we have Maddie's past and the Madney and Henren families, and we have Buck and Eddie, so massively and messily interlinked this season.

We barely saw Buck with Maddie, HIS OWN SISTER, this season, and their only scene just the two of them was not really about Maddie at all, it was about Buck and his life and also his relationship with Eddie. So yeah, they really really focused on highlighting the key dynamics they wanted us to see this season. Which is very interesting. I just wish they had done it more fluidly, but oh well.

I am really hopeful for next season and the writing, and I am also FUCKING STRESSED EVER SINCE TIM MINEAR SAID HE DOESN'T LIKE TO PLAN THINGS... WE CARE ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS A LOT... PLEASE PLAN THINGS!!!!!

But yeah, they never had time for filler episodes this season, the episodes where little happened (one could argue 705, 707, 709ish) weren't really filler episodes, they were more episodes that were having to tie up loose ends from the last and establish the next episode. If that makes sense? I also think they just decided this season that they didn't really have much time for firefighting? Which idk, it's disappointing, but yeah, they actually did not have much time and people remember the personal things more????

ANYWAY I AM SO HOPEFUL FOR NEXT SEASON AND I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE? but also I really enjoyed writing it anyway!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND ME ASKS ALWAYS!!! THEY BRING ME MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF JOY!!!! And yes Carlos song is fucking incredible I am so excited I am going back to the place I first heard it next week!!!!!

Have a beautiful day if possible, and I love you all and I think you are doing amazing!!!!!! REMEMBER TO EAT AND DRINK AND SLEEP AND SUCH!! and also do something fun, like if you have nice food then just eat it, you don't have to justify it to yourself I'm literally telling you to! Trust your instincts especially if they're positive ones!!!!!!!!!!! I'm just rambling now, my phone is on 5% we shall see how long it lasts!!

[lesuccube]

➚ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐊 𝐃 : ᴀᴜ-ᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴍɪɴᴇ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — he's gotten awfully close , thank god you didn't know much better . at least , that was good news to him .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dark trojan [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd, constructive criticism is welcomed . comments and reblogs are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 0.7k

you've been working with steven at the museum for quite a while now. him, still a gift shop-ist and you a new guide for the greek exhibit. at first steven was jealous how they easily gave away the position of tour guide but when he passed by your group during your first month when donna made him do inventory, he was hooked.

you were smart and passionate, fun and easygoing. plenty of the people you guided had questions to ask that you readily answered, both from adults and children. usually the former are quiet, uninterested in the old history but you had a way to charm people, steven was no exception.

so he made the effort to befriend you. approaching you more until it was you who would seek him out during lunch. on days you were able to leave early, you'd join steven doing inventory because donna got mad at him again for being late. as per usual.

"you don't have to stick around f'me love, i'm used to it." earthy browns would look at yours through curly bangs, sheepish at having held you back from going home early. "i know i don't... but i want to."

and that was when he had truly fallen in love with you. if you can even call that love. steven was obsessed, he was obsessed with your kindness, with your knowledge. he wanted that all to himself. how can he not when you readily give it when he comes by to ask for your time. you were so nice, so good, so beautiful... he hopes you like what he has planned for you.

he began following you in and out of work, uncaring he loses sleep. not that he gets that many hours in anyways. he followed you for months until he has learned your routine outside your house, after that he learned how to break into your place and get to know you even better in the comforts of your home. he steals a few things, a spoon you used that day, a shirt buried underneath your laundry, a pair of panties from your freshly folded ones... some he returns and others, well let's just say they became a permanent part of his collection of you.

he worships the things you own, treats them like fine china. most of the time that is. he uses them to his pleasure other times, unable to hold back. your smell would linger on the items he'd steal and he'd sniff it until it disappears, replaced by his own. then he'll clean them up (he bought the same laundry detergent just for this case) and return them. most of them.

nearly a year into your friendship, steven asked you out for a simple hang out at the park, saying he found a nice spot for a picnic just you and him. unaware of his true intentions, you had agreed.

at first it had gone well, you and steven chatted and chatted, eating the sandwiches you had prepared until he handed you a glass of lemonade did it start going downhill. half an hour after your brunch you started feeling sluggish, your mind hazy and muddled. you don't notice steven grinning in joy, knowing that his plans were finally coming into fruition. he had drugged your drink, enough to weaken your muscles for you to go down without a fight and then... light's out.

oh how long did he wait for this moment.

"oh love, i've wanted you for so long... ever since i passed by your first tour i've been madly in love with you d'you know that? of course you didn't silly me." he circles your weakening body, struggling to stay awake, struggling to hear him. "w-why?" was the only thing your lips were able to get out in your fight to stay conscious, alarm bells ringing in your head at steven's approaching figure.

he grins a cruel, wicked grin when you're finally unable to hold yourself up, lying limply on the blanket he had all but spread out and you looked like a masterpiece to him at that moment. like a fallen angel in your pretty white dress, hair spread out before you like a beautiful halo. like a painting, like art had come to life, you were so, so beautiful. you were gorgeous in his eyes and you always will be.

"why? well... i can't stop thinking how perfect we would be together."

[itsbenedict]

y'know, i still listen to My Brother My Brother and Me- and i keep hearing rumblings like "oh, they've gone downhill" from people. and i don't really get that? like, it's still pretty good.

i've got criticisms. the wizard is only like 80% as good as yahoo answers as a core bit, i don't much like the new theme song and i think the motive for switching was a masterstroke of totally unnecessary cowardice (did they really think they'd be cancelled over being affiliated with Bean Dad?), and it feels like the plugs and promos they always do at the end have been growing- but like, they're still funny.

except- and i just don't understand this- this one particular bit they keep doing. they mostly save it for live shows, and that's baffling to me because "With Special Guest" seems to be so thoroughly devoid of comedy that i don't know why they've decided it's a crowd-pleaser.

like- if you haven't heard it, the game is: Travis finds a clip from Saturday Night Live, in particular a bit where the celebrity special guest introduces a band that's going to be performing. just the star going "ladies and gentlemen: Name of Band". Travis tells them who the celebrity and the band are, and Justin and Griffin are then tasked with guessing the line delivery in the clip.

that's the whole bit. they try to guess how a random celebrity sounds while delivering a completely perfunctory line on someone else's TV show. and they all seem to think this is funny, for some reason! like usually, when there's a real stinker of a bit, like Play Along At Home, they can at least turn it alchemy-like into laughs by riffing on the concept or being deliberately stupid about it. but in With Special Guest, they all seem to buy in one hundred percent, genuinely trying to predict what the line delivery will be like, naming several completely banal and uninteresting possible options. all of those guesses are almost without exception totally wrong, and the actual delivery is a different completely banal and uninteresting instance of a celebrity saying the name of a band. (this is then followed up with "holy SHIT" and a shocked reaction to the reveal, as if it were somehow mind-blowing and hilarious.)

like- am i missing something? do other people think this is funny somehow? where is the joke? is it... is it like, one of those anti-comedy things, and the joke is how long they can do it without cracking? but the audience laughs, too, so like- what's going on with them? am i the weird one here?

[synnamonroll666]

On Your Knees

Prompt 14: Authority Kink & Oral Pairing: Syzoth X Fem!Reader Description: You always found it hard to be attracted to men of the same rank as you or higher. But when you and your emissary share a moment of passion on one lonely night, you quickly realize why those men weren't up to your standards... Warnings: Authority kink, Oral (Female Receiving), Dom!Reader, Sub!Syzoth, Hair Pulling, Praise... Word Count: 1k Main MasterList: 🖤 Kinktober MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @queenkhepri, @bihansthot, and @mmeerraa.

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Being queen of Outworld comes with plenty of responsibility. I don't have control over just one country like the royals of Earthrealm may have—I have control of an entire realm. Their safety means the world to me, so I work hard to ensure my realm and my people stay out of harm's way.

Unfortunately, this had given me no time to look for a decent suiter to stay by my side. My mother had graciously offered arranged marriages throughout the past, but it never felt right. None of the men had ever attracted me in any way. And it took a long time to realize that it was because once married, they would become king.

I suppose I have a need to rule—a need to be in a higher position than someone else at all times. And I didn't realize that until one lonely night, when I crossed paths with my emissary after dark.

"Hello, Syzoth!" I greeted the man kindly as I approached him outside of my castle. I had been going for a walk at the time, unable to settle down for the night and relax for a peaceful slumber.

The man was startled by my sudden appearance at first, but then responded to my words with a pleasant smile and a softened gaze.

"Hello, empress. Having trouble getting to sleep?" He asked as his smile then fell into a concerned frown.

"I am afraid so," I sighed heavily. It wasn't usual for royals to interact with their help on a more personal level, but I felt so lonely, and he was willing to listen. "Nights like these, I feel so alone—so lost in this big world; I'd do anything to change that."

"I suppose I understand." His words faded into a more somber chuckle, and I gave him a sympathetic look. I was more than aware of Syzoth's past, and the fact that he had struggled so much in life saddened me greatly.

"I know you do, Syzoth." I expressed while I gently placed my hand upon his shoulder, rubbing the bare skin in soothing circles with my thumb. "Perhaps we are more alike than we think."

"Well, we are both lonely in a world of people who do not understand us." Syzoth acknowledged. "But I understand you."

"Really?" I asked, and the man nodded. Clearing my throat, I continued, "Then... Maybe we should stick by each other? Or... Get to know each other better?"

"I think I would like that, empress."

Suddenly, a chill went down my spine as those words were spoken. I had been called "empress" many times by many people, but there was just something about the way that he said it that caused my eyes to instinctively flutter shut as I enjoyed the forbidden arousal circulating within my core. 

"Are you ok, empress?" He questioned, and my eyes shot open to see him staring at me with concern. I simply smiled before stepping closer towards him to close the distance between us.

"Oh, I am now." I murmured in a sultry and hushed tone as I brought my hand up to gently run it through his surprisingly soft hair. I was even more astonished when he didn't move away—barely even flinched when my hand made contact with him in a more intimate way.

It was all downhill from there.

The next thing I knew, I had him in my room, ordering him onto his knees. It didn't take long for me to have my pants undone and around my ankles. And soon after, his lips were clashing against my mound.

I bit my lip hard to fight back a moan, terrified to make a sound that the guards outside my door could hear. It was difficult enough to sneak him through my window, but we managed to succeed without bringing any attention to us once. So fighting back every noise that dared escape me was crucial if we wanted to keep this little play date undercover. 

But even then, I couldn't fight the inevitable forever. Because I knew that once my climax had arrived, there would be no keeping my mouth shut. Besides, keeping silent while he ate me out like I was his first meal in months was possibly one of the most difficult tasks I had ever tried to fulfill.

He turned his head slightly to get more access, and I couldn't refrain from letting a strained whimper from my lips. My fingers submerged within his dark hair and I held him firmly against me, muffling his moans against my mound as he savored my taste.

The vibrations of his voice worked wonders for me, and my eyes quickly lolled into the back of my head as I finally gave into the everlasting temptation of letting my voice free. I parted my lips to sing my songs of pleasure as the arousal within surged through my veins and straight to my core. It felt so good, and it made the desire stirring within grow even stronger.

"Good boy! Good little boy!" I keened as I buckled my hips into his face, to which he responded with a cute little growl.

I groaned at the way his tongue swirled around my clit, festering up butterflies to flutter around within my stomach. And soon after, I finally released into his mouth, crying out as my fingers clenched into fists and twisting his hair in my grasp. I rode out my orgasm on his tongue while he gazed up at me with awe from between my thighs; it was a magical moment.

Once I fell from my high, I glanced down at my lover with pride glimmering in my eyes. I released my firm grip on his hair and began running my hands through it slowly to soothe the sting my grasp must had caused him.

"You did so well for me, my perfect little sweetheart." I cooed sweetly, and he smiled once he pulled away from my mound. My chest puffed out as I was filled with even more pride once I saw the mess I had made of him—how my slick glistened on his lips and chin, while more dripped down his throat.

It was from then on that I only craved what was below me, and a small part of me still craves that same emissary—that helped me discover a large part of myself—to this day.

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