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

[zepskies]

Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞

(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)

First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.

What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.

honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍

lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙

my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍

I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞

now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.

And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.

everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3

It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓

a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖

Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕

I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞

Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.

This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞

(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)

Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

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

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

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still. 

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made. 

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 

He’s not leaving you. 

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you. 

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[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.

[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

[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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[marshallpupfan]

Hopefully this isn't too weird or invasive a question, but I'm curious what draws you to Paw Patrol as an older fan, and also what your experience has been like in the fandom and as a collector? (I'm assuming you're an older fan and probably close to my age from the non-Paw Patrol media you share haha).

I am indeed one of its older fans, and I can think up a few reasons that keeps drawing me to it.

One I can say right away is the fact I have a big love for canines, thus I tend to gravitate towards anything with dogs (and wolves, depending on if they're heroes or villains). They make up plenty of my favorites characters, as some of you seen in one of my previous Asks, and I generally tend to enjoy things more when they're involved (a friend recently recommended an older game to me, which I enjoyed all the more because you got to travel around with your trusty dog).

Funnily enough, not too long ago, I took an interest in the Asterix and Obelix franchise because of its dog character, Dogmatix... and I was quite thrilled when I heard he was getting his own spinoff cartoon! Of course, it was only available in French at the time, but much to my luck, the first half of season one got dubbed in English and [officially] posted on Youtube, free to watch! I gave it a go, and I thought it was pretty good! If anyone's curious, click this link to check it out. And yes, this might've been a thinly-veiled attempt to talk about this cartoon somewhere, since there aren't many English-speaking fans. lol

Arquebus/Musketix is the best character.

But yeah, the pups are one of my biggest draws to PAW Patrol, and unlike some fans, I rather like it when other pups get added to the cast. Boomer and Claw both certainly helped renew some of my interest in the franchise, particularly during a time in which I felt things were going downhill. Hey, I just love dogs!

Obviously, Marshall's easily my biggest draw to PAW Patrol. I'll admit, I tend to take a far bigger interest in an episode when he actually gets some good attention... and it's why my interests start to wane when he doesn't. The dude's legit my #1 favorite animated character, so I suppose it's no surprise to hear I often tune in specifically for him. That's not to say I don't get enjoyment from the other pups, but I'm just so crazy about that spotted pup!

Another aspect that draws me to PAW Patrol is just how fun it tends to be (or used to be, but the modern seasons still have their moments). I don't want to go too deep into this because I don't want things to get too serious, but let's just say... life can be quite rough anymore, and it never seems to get much better. I often look for something that can help me escape that for a while, even if it's just for a half hour at a time. I found that PAW Patrol does that for me. It's cute, colorful, fun, doesn't try to be complex, and by the end, everything turns out okay. And if I need cheering up after a bad day, a certainly clumsy, spotted pup often always puts a smile on my face. Some days, I need that.

----

As for my experiences with the fandom, I'd say it's been largely positive. I do tend to meet a lot of friendly people, many of which tend to be supportive and/or cheerful when I need it, and I generally enjoy interacting with most of them right back! I certainly don't regret being a part of it for the last five years or so.

With that said, I've had encounters that certainly weren't pleasant. I think everyone knows about my copycat by this point, so no need to retread that old ground. There's one infamous user out there who just seems to hate everything (unless it involves Everest), and he often turns hostile if you don't agree with his opinions. The same dude even tried arguing and verbally attacking those who work on PAW Patrol... including their families, too! Crazy guy. I've also encountered some fans who seem to make stuff up, believe their headcanon to be fact, and then become angry when people don't agree with them. I once had someone tell me Ryder is "gaslighting" Rubble, and... I don't even want to know what that means or why they believe that.

And in-regards to being a collector, the reception I often encounter has been quite positive, too. Most fans really seem to enjoy seeing my collection, even if it's just out of curiosity to see just how much merchandise they made of one single pup. I still get compliments on it all the time, from both fans and non-fans of Marshall, and I've even seen other folks who just think it's legit cool.

Surprisingly, I've only had one negative encounter so far, and it was, believe it or not, from someone who used to be a fan of PAW Patrol. She became one of those folks who encountered bad users, got tired of them, and then decided every fan must be awful... and of course, she tore into me because I "talk too much" about Marshall and deemed me a "freak" for collecting so much merchandise. Most of what she said was largely laced with swears and insults, and I'm sure she believes she put me in my place or something... though in truth, I was laughing at most of her replies. Why she felt the need to throw such a temper tantrum on me, I'll never know, but she didn't succeed in even the slightest to discourage me or anything. lol