#it's too heavy and idk where to run to for help anymore

[sincerity--extreme]

Sometimes I wish I wasn't afraid of death, then I could finally end the torture that all this has become, I would feel no more pain and more importantly, I wouldn't be an unrequested heavy burden on anyone's life anymore, I feel so sorry for those around me for having to deal with me on top of everything else

[mariasont]

Second Helpings - A.H

it started with second helpings and ended with him pinning you against a dressing room wall in navy slacks.

pairings: dad bod hotch x fem!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, public/semi public sex, unprotected sex (dont do it besties), dad bod hotch!!!!!!!, bad language, hand over mouth, partially clothed sex, AFAB reader, stomach kink lol idk what to call it wc: 2.8k

You’re getting kind of smug about it, honestly. Every morning, you watch as Aaron lets out this heavy, performative sigh while trying to coax his shirt buttons into place.

You don’t even attempt to hide your grin anymore.

Because you know what’s behind it. It’s every late night where you fed him second helpings without asking, every caramelized bite he said was too sweet and then finished anyway.

He grumbles, always. About routine, about needing to run more.

But the truth is, he’s gotten soft in the best possible way, and you’re not just proud, you’re thrilled. You did that. You, and the cream sauce.

You feel it every time your arms slide around him from behind, the way your palms sink into the new plushness.

And it’s getting harder and harder not to whisper prayers of thanks into the space between his shoulder blades, not to smile against his back like he’s something you sculpted by hand and left out to rise — golden, perfect, yours.

Though you’re brash in almost every other way — loud with your praise, greedy with your hands, always quick to flirt or tease — this particular compliment you’ve kept carefully tucked away.

You’ll rave about his hair, his face, the way his hands look on a steering wheel, but openly mentioning your delight in his rounded stomach feels embarrassingly intimate. A bit too direct even for your bold tastes. So, your admiration remains quiet, disguised in playful affection and touches, all while hoping he secretly knows just how much you adore this version of him.

Insecurity has never really been his thing, and thank heavens for that. He’s still Aaron Hotchner, after all, entirely too practical and self-assured to obsess over vanity.

He only contains mild irritation about the way his expensive suits pinch in all the wrong places lately. Even with that irritation, convincing him to step foot in one of those swanky boutiques he usually sidesteps took days of sweet-talk, strategic eye-fluttering, and a frankly heroic amount of praise, even though you both know his wallet wouldn’t even notice the difference.

“What do you think of this one?” Aaron asks casually, stepping out of the dressing room with hands smoothing down the front of the jacket.

For a moment, language ceases to exist. Your brain misfires entirely, every thought in your skull vaporized by the sight of him, morphed into fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

It pulls around his thighs, showcasing their new, fuller shape, and cinches at his waist in a manner that borders on temptation incarnate. You, however, are particularly focused on the way his stomach swells over his belt. Your mouth feels dry.

Heat pulses between your hips, your clit throbbing in time with your heartbeat like it knows what it wants. You shift, subtly, like that’ll help. It doesn’t.

“I think,” you manage weakly, “we should definitely buy that one.”

The words sound steady, but inside, you’re a wildfire on stilts. Your smile stays soft and polite, while your hands drag slowly down the front of his chest and sturdy shoulders.

You pretend to inspect the suit’s fit, fingers trailing lower, thumbs dipping just above his waistband, grazing the edge of where belly becomes something even hungrier.

Stretching onto your toes, you press a kiss to Aaron’s cheek and murmur casually, “I knew navy was your color.”

He fidgets with the jacket, running his hands down the sides like maybe it’ll stretch if he asks nicely.

“Still feels a bit snug,” he says, casually, with that little crooked smile. 

It’s barely even a concern, just commentary. Your eyes drop automatically to his waist. You want to tell him snug is good. Snug is perfect. Snug is making you wet. 

But you just hum in response, noncommittal on the surface. Your hands say otherwise. You slip behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You’ve always been a little clingy, sure, but lately, you couldn’t even stop if you wanted to.

You peek your head out from behind his arm, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Well, I happen to think this is your very best look.”

“You do remember,” he says mildly, “that this shopping trip was your idea.” He pauses, his hand settling over yours with casual intimacy, his thumb rubbing slow over your knuckles. “You said I needed suits that fit better. Not… tighter.” His gaze drags over your reflection. “Though I have a good idea why you seem to enjoy them this way.”

Mortification floods through you and the only survival tactic your body can come up with is to disappear.

You duck forward and press your face into the broad expanse of his back, stifling your laughter into the ridge of his spine. 

“Ugh,” you grumble into the fabric of his jacket, voice muffled, “of course you know. You weren’t supposed to notice. That was private.”

He turns slowly in your embrace, smiling softly as he nudges your chin upward with one finger.

“Believe me, I figured it out the first time you cooked for me and looked ready to cry if I didn’t eat dessert. You didn’t exactly hide your intentions.”

You let out a breath that flutters embarrassingly against his throat, forehead still resting against his shoulder.

“...I didn’t think it was that obvious,” you whisper, half-laughing.

He raises a brow. You bury your face again.

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was trying to feed you into submission,” you tease. Then, more seriously, “But… you just look happier, you know? Healthier. Like you’re finally letting yourself enjoy things.” Your voice softens. “You take care of everyone else all the time. I like that you feel safe enough to relax around me. And —” You glance up at him with a grin. “Selfishly, it’s pretty hot.”

Aaron laughs, that rare kind that vibrates low in his chest and through yours. His fingers brush the side of your neck, then tug lightly on your ponytail, just enough to make you tilt your chin.

“You know exactly why I’m happier. You’re the one who’s been determined to spoil me every chance you get.”

You send a silent grateful prayer to whatever benevolent deity governs luxury boutiques, relieved beyond measure that the store is deserted, the salespeople tucked somewhere far out of sight.

Your hand brushes against Aaron’s belt. “You know, it’s taking a lot of self-control not to start spoiling you right here in this dressing room.”

Aaron catches your hand mid-drift and guides it back to the safety of his waist. Still, his eyes spark darker, his voice lowering a shade.

“While I admire your enthusiasm,” he says, “we might need to revisit the rules about public behavior.”

“If I remember correctly, you’re usually willing to negotiate.”

His nostrils flare, subtle, but there, and he leans in a fraction. “Negotiations require proper timing and place.”

You lean in return, close enough for your breath to ghost against his jaw. Your gaze is wide, guileless, the exact look you’ve perfected just for him. He knows it’s a trap. He always knows.

You whisper sweetly, almost pleading, “I’ll be quiet, Aaron. Really quiet.”

His thumb moves slowly over your pulse, and something in his expression stutters, not a full break, but the first, beautiful crack in the glass.

He swallows hard.

“You’re not playing fair.”

You take that as a green light, not a loud one, not even official, but enough.

You grab his hand, pull him into the dressing room, and lock the door. 

Your heart slams into overdrive, giddy and incredulous, because, truthfully, you’d braced yourself for another spectacular defeat.

Getting Aaron to relent in public, even tucked away, feels as hopeless as convincing winter to surrender to spring early. He’s built from impeccable propriety and poise.

Countless times, you’ve prodded at his limits — hotel balconies, late-night drives, even in your own backyard — but with each attempt, you were redirected with affectionate warnings and raised eyebrows.

You glanced upward, immediately snagging on that subtle, guilty amusement taking over his features. It dances at the corners of his lips, a small flame you’ve tirelessly tried to spark into something bigger. 

With the wickedest smile, you keep his gaze locked tight as your fingers tease the edge of your dress, drawing the fabric upward, baring just enough skin to erase any doubt that your intentions are anything of the innocent kind.

“I promise we’ll be quick,” you breathe against his lips, soothing his doubts as you kiss him with a gentle reassurance that still burns brightly in desire. You press into him, heart leaping when you feel the rigid outline pressing insistently against his slacks. “Please, Aaron. I need you now. So, so badly.”

Aaron’s resistance snaps with an almost audible click, his strong hands seizing your thighs as he guides you backward, caging you against the solidity of the wall.

His mouth descends upon your neck in slow kisses, each one melting into your skin like hot wax. His fingers slip underneath your hiked-up dress, grazing across your underwear, now shamefully damp with anticipation.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers in stunned approval, “look how soaked you already are.”

Warmth floods your cheeks, even as you laugh quietly against his shoulder. His surprise would be adorable if you weren’t already half-mad with need. 

“Well, whose fault is that?” you tease, fingers gripping his waist tighter, pulling him close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “Seriously, have you seen yourself lately? Now please, can you just —” you pause, shivering impatiently as you lift your hips, “— get inside me already?”

He laughs under his breath, hands deftly unfastening his pants just enough, leaving his suit otherwise impossibly pristine, as if even now he can’t bear to sacrifice his composure entirely.

“You always get what you want, don’t you?”

An involuntary, choked sound escapes your throat when Aaron pushes forward, plunging into you with one controlled thrust, filling you so completely that it leaves room for nothing else.

The intensity sends electricity through your body, scattering constellations behind your closed eyelids. You clench around him reflexively, relishing how he stretches you.

A distant thought flickers through your mind, laughing at your own foolishness for ever questioning whether convincing him was worth it when he feels so perfect right here, right now.

“Oh god, Aar —” His palm covers your mouth, silencing the needy cry before it can fully form, your voice reduced to a swathed whine beneath his hand.

His eyes glisten with teasing reproach, even as his hips persist their pitiless pace. “Shh,” he scolds, leaning close enough that his lips graze your ear, “I distinctly remember someone promising she’d behave.”

He underscores his sentence with a thrust that leaves you weak-kneed, clasping helplessly against his chest.

Quiet, right, what an outrageous promise that had been. Still, you fight valiantly, teeth gently sinking into his hand to keep your pleas from slipping out. You briefly congratulate yourself on your restraint, but the shaky pride crumbles wholly when his fingertips slide skillfully over your swollen clit, tearing your discipline into ribbons.

You arch into his touch. 

He leans in, chuckling against your temple then leaving a kiss there. 

“You’re adorable when you pretend at subtlety, but I think we both know it’s never been your talent.” Your hold tightens frantically on his lapels, breath fastening sharply. “Maybe next time,” he whispers huskily, “you could spare us both and just tell me outright how much you want this.”

Aaron uncovers your mouth, and the words rush out between panting breaths, completely beyond your management. Your legs cling tighter, wrinkling his suit jacket carelessly.

“Wasn’t supposed to be so — so obvious,” you stammer, mind spinning from the intensity of his thrusts. “But you’re — Aaron, you’re so good like this.”

He seems to anticipate your reaction before you even feel it yourself, his palm clamping firmly over your lips just as his cock slides forward, nudging the spot that makes your vision blur. Your cry hums against calloused skin, back bowing, pressing your chest flush to his as your hips move on their own, greedily seeking more of the blissful sensation only he can offer.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispers into your hair, voice roughened by desire but still so delicate. “You’re so incredible, you know that? Always so determined to take care of me, always looking after me. It’s your turn now.”

He thrusts again, bottomless, more purposeful.

“Right now, this is for you.” His voice shakes, strained with sincerity. “My perfect girl. Just let go, this is all yours.”

Your orgasm crashes over you without warning, premature and fierce, igniting every nerve in your body until you’re certain you’ll burn right through his touch.

Aaron’s hand absorbs the worst of your moan, but you’re sure the raw sound somehow echoes off the walls regardless. Your body trembles and grips around him, unwilling to let go as endless shocks of pleasure surge enormously through your core. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispers hoarsely, a comforting rasp in your ear, thrusts slowing as he guides you through the aftershocks.

You feel his shudder, his breathing turning uneven, labored, signaling his own approaching release. He presses his face into your hair again, stifling a deep, throaty groan as he surges forward once more, hips snapping sharply, spilling inside you.

Sticky warmth floods your core, leaving you shivering and satisfied. Your thoughts swirl lazily in the aftermath, a dazed smile forming.

You float pleasantly, blissfully aware that all thoughts of propriety, pressed suits, and public decency have completely dissolved, and it feels like perfect freedom.

His hand lifts slowly, freeing your mouth as your breath rushes out in a slightly dizzy laugh, head spinning as you sag back against the wall.

Your smile is dreamy, eyes barely able to focus as you tap lightly at his chest. “Mmm… If anyone asks, it was all your idea.”

“Convenient narrative,” he says dryly, pulling out of you.

The emptiness leaves you instantly unstable, thighs fluttering and a faint, overwhelmed moan tumbling from your lips as you feel his release gradually escaping, trickling down your thighs.

His fingers move, carefully gathering the slick excess dripping down your legs and forcing it back inside you, causing you to gasp sharply. Your thighs spasm uncontrollably.

“Easy,” Aaron says soothingly, pressing kisses against your cheekbone. “I know, sweetheart, it’s a lot, but you’ll need to hold it until we’re somewhere more private. Think you can manage?”

You nod hazily, pressing your thighs more firmly around his fingers, stabilizing yourself.

“Yeah — yeah, I think,” you say, “but just keep your hand right there, okay?”

He grins, pulling his hand back. 

“Tempting offer,” he says, pressing his slick-coated fingers to your parted lips. “But let’s start by taking care of this little mess you made, hmm?”

With eyes never leaving him, you offer him a smile, taking his digits into your mouth, savoring the intimacy.

When you release him, you tilt your head, eyes still heavy with contentment, and say, “So… are you keeping the suit?”

“At this point, I think purchasing it is my only decent option,” he murmurs wryly, gesturing pointedly at the unmistakable evidence left behind, his own precum mingled with your wetness staining the crotch area of the slacks.

Your smile grows impish, eyes sparkling lazily as you rise to peck his mouth. “Exactly as planned.”

The sudden, polite knock makes you jump, panic briefly flashing across your features as a voice calls out, “Sir? How’s the fit on that suit? Need assistance?”

Aaron moves before you can even blink, stepping protectively in front of you, shoulders squared defensively toward the door. You bury your face into his chest, heart hammering as you struggle to remain perfectly silent.

“Everything’s fine, thank you. Just making some final adjustments.”

The quiet returns as footsteps fade, leaving you pressed safely into Aaron. Slowly, he lifts your chin, meeting your gaze with tender exasperation, mouth curving softly upward.

“We’re going to get banned from this place,” he says dryly, smoothing your hair back from your flushed face.

“Worth it.” You give him a cheeky smile, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. “I really do love this look on you, Aaron.”

His gaze softens even further, thumb brushing tenderly along your jawline.

"I know," he whispers, voice deep with meaning, "and that's exactly why I'm buying it."

You stay there there for a second longer than you should, breathing him in. You’re sweaty, flushed, possibly glowing, and he’s just standing there like a man trying to pretend he didn’t just rearrange your insides next to a garment rack.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. He smooths down your dress like that’ll help. It won’t. But he tries anyway. And in the middle of it, you think, yeah, this is definitely the man I’m gonna make lasagna for tonight.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[spencerreidsreads]

‘It’s a date date’

Aaron Hotchner x fem!single mom reader

Summary: An afternoon at the park for Aaron and Jack has a surprising plot twist.

Word count: 2.5k

AN: I hate this. Like really hate it, but it’s been sat unfinished in my drafts for like 6 months and I’m sick of looking at it. So I’m just posting it anyways. Aaron is probs out of character idk, like i said it’s bad, don’t blame me 🫵🫵

Also there’s probs mistakes… I don’t care anymore I’m tired good night 🫶🫶

***********

“Hi!” came a tiny high pitched voice, from the left of where Aaron sat on the park bench.

He looked over and saw a little girl, who must’ve been no more than five years old. She was staring at Aaron with a smile on her face and an apple in her hand.

“Hi there” Aaron replied. He looked around to see if the child was with a parent, when he didn’t see anyone immediately he asked “are you with your mom?” Not only was he an FBI profiler, who immediately felt concern about a child being alone, but he was also a father. And as a parent, he couldn’t imagine the absolute panic this child’s parent may be feeling not having her in their eyesight right now.

The little girl took a second to think, quickly responding “I play on the park!”, she pointed at the play area where Aaron’s son Jack was currently playing.

“Is your mommy or daddy at the park?” Aaron questioned, needing to make sure she wasn’t alone.

The little girl just shook her head, “mommy was getting something from the car. I wanted to play on the park.”

Ah, Aaron thought. It wasn’t hard to guess that this little girl had ran from her mother whilst her back was turned. A simple mistake that luckily didn’t end badly. The little girl was lucky she ran up to Aaron and not someone who may have had bad intentions.

Aaron looked down at the girl, who looked happy to be talking to him, he wondered why she was talking to him though. Considering her excitement about playing on the park.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” Aaron decided he was going to help find her mother. He wanted to reunite them as soon as possible to hope the mother doesn’t stress too much.

“I’m Maya!” replied the girl, pointing a small finger at herself as she told Aaron her name.

It was at this minute, Jack ran over. He wasn’t much older than this girl seemed to be. After seeing her talking with his dad, he wanted to go over and see who she was. Maybe she would want to play with him?

“Do you want to play with me?” Jack asked the girl enthusiastically. He was straight to the point, kids not needing introductions when making friends. Just happy to potentially have someone to play with.

“Just a second buddy. How about you and me help Maya find her mommy? I’m sure they miss each other.”

Jack, as kind as his is, immediately agreed. “I can help you find her!” he stated. “What does she look like?”

Maya, who had been watching the two Hotchner’s discuss, responded with “she looks like my mommy!” Aaron smiled at the young girls attempted description of her mother.

Though Aaron didn’t need to worry, as at that moment, he heard heavy footsteps approaching, along with an accompanying voice of a woman, frantically calling the name “Maya!”

“Mommy!” Maya screeched in joy as she got up and ran towards the woman.

The woman immediately grabbed onto her daughter, pulling her into a tight hug. The relief evident on her face, Aaron thought. He couldn’t imagine the panic she must have been feeling.

The woman pulled away from the hug, placing her small hands upon the girls shoulders. “Maya! You do not run away from me when I am not looking! I must be able to see you at all times, do you understand?”

The woman waiting for a response from her daughter, who simply nodded her head, looking only slightly guilty.

“You need to stay with mommy darling. If I can’t see you I can’t keep you safe. You stay by my side and only go off when I tell you it’s ok, alright? You scared me very much.” The woman was gentle with her daughter, but firm enough to ensure Maya understood the importance of listening to her mother.

“Ok mommy. I’m sorry”

The woman pulled Maya in for another hug. “Right, go on and play for a little bit. Do not leave my sight, got it?”

“Got it” she repeated with a grin. “Shall we play?” the little girl turned to Jack, who had still been standing there.

Jack looked towards his father, silently asking if it was ok. Aaron turned towards the woman, also silently asking if it was ok. You responded with a smile on your face.

“Yes of course, go have fun and be careful!”

As the little ones ran off together, deciding what they were going to play first, the woman approached Aaron and the bench he occupied.

“Can I sit?” the woman asked politely.

“Please” Aaron gestured to the spare space next to him. “We were just about to come searching for you.”

Aaron didn’t mean this in a harsh way, he simply wanted to let the woman know his intentions were to reunite the two. The woman however, felt guilt and shame, assuming Aaron was judging her for losing track of her small daughter.

“God, I’m so sorry.” You placed your head in your hands. “I literally turned my back for 20 seconds to make sure we had everything. She’s been desperate to come to the park all week and we finally had the time today and I think she just got over excited when she saw it and decided to take off herself.”

You raised your head to look at Aaron, the emotions on your face evident.

“I promise this isn’t a regular occurrence. She normally stays right by my side” you sigh out, looking over towards the park to spot her daughter and Jack playing on the swings.

Aaron also looks over to the pair, softly smiling after hearing the two laughing together.

“I’m not judging, kids are quick. It’s not your fault.” He kindly reassured the woman.

There was visible relief on your face after hearing he wasn’t judging.

You softly smiled and introduced yourself to Aaron, “and you’ve met my Maya.”

Aaron breathed out a laugh at this, “yeah, she introduced herself. I’m Aaron, that’s my son Jack” he pointed towards him.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her, I lost sight of her for two minutes but it felt like hours. I don’t think I’ve felt my heart drop like that ever before” you admit.

“That’s ok no problem, I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t alone, you found her soon enough” he again felt like reassuring the woman, hating how he could tell she was angry at herself.

A comfortable silence passed for a few moments, the both of you watching your children happily play together. Jack was gently pushing Maya on the swing, both of them laughing and talking about who knows what.

You turn to look at Aaron, who felt your gaze on him. “Are you local to here?” you questioned before continuing, “we’re quite new to the area, just moved here not too long ago and Maya seems to be happy to have made a friend.”

You’d been feeling mom guilt since you moved to the area. Having to leave behind your old neighbourhood, whilst necessary for your new job, was hard on you both, but especially Maya. She’d had to leave her friends and move to a new place where she didn’t know anyone. Neither of you did, it was a fresh start for the both of you, only having each other currently.

“Yeah we’re local, this park is new for us though. I’m sure Jack’s glad to have a new friend too. He doesn’t have many friends in the area.”

“Well if you want we could set up some more play dates for them, they seem to be having fun” you stated, “I can give you my number if you’d like?”

Not only were you genuinely wanting to set up play dates for your daughter, happy she’ll have a friend, but this man was gorgeous. No denying that. You may have also been slightly selfish in your asking for his number hoping that the two of you could get a little closer too.

Aaron’s eyes widened in surprise slightly, he’d noticed the way your eyes lingered on him. Were you flirting with him? Of course he’d be more than happy to allow Jack to have play dates with Maya, they seem to get on well. But he’s sensing an alternative motive here too. Not that he’s complaining.

“Yeah that sounds great, here” as he handed you his phone.

Typing your name into his phone and saving it, suddenly you blurted out, without really thinking “are you married?” You’d noticed the absence of a wedding ring on his finger and were curious if he was seeing anyone. After all he had a child, but you weren’t about to make a move on a taken man.

“No, no. Divorced actually” Aaron replied. “We haven’t been together for a while now.”

He didn’t seem upset about this, or at least that’s what you thought based on his reaction to your question. You’re not shy, if you want to ask a guy out you will. You just want to make sure he’s actually available first.

Aaron then added, “what about you?”

“No I’m not seeing anyone. I’m a single mom, her dad isn’t in the picture.”

It went quiet for a moment, Aaron not having anything to say.

“Are you seeing anyone?” you boldly asked. Like you said, you’re not shy.

Aaron felt his lip twitch into a small smile, was a beautiful woman asking him out?

“No, I’m not seeing anybody. You?” Was his response.

“No me neither.”

The two of you sat in awkward silence for a few seconds, both obviously unsure where to go from here, despite the desire to keep the conversation going. It had been a while since either of you had done this whole dating thing. Maybe you were a little shy.

Still keeping an eye on the kids, who had now moved onto taking turns on the slide, you smiled happy to see your daughter having fun.

Focusing your attention back on Aaron, you took a deep breath and prepared to be the one to make the first move, “So I-“

You were startled yet slightly relieved when Aaron’s phone started to ring. He gave you an apologetic look followed with “sorry I’ve gotta take this”

You smiled and nodded to show it was ok as Maya and Jack made their way over to you seeming giddy about something, their voices drowning out Aaron and his phone call.

“Mommy! Jack says there’s a place here that has the most biggest milkshakes in the world”, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Oh yeah?” You ask with your eyebrows raised curious to hear about these giant milkshakes.

“Yeah! I had one at my birthday, it was so big I couldn’t even finish it.” Adds Jack, showing you with his hands the size of this milkshake he had. You laughed at his exaggeration of the size of the drink, unless it really was bigger than him.

“It wasn’t quite that big but they definitely were impressive”, you turn at the sound of Aaron’s voice, not realising he’d ended his phone call.

Smiling you replied “well maybe we’ll have to go one day, how’s that sound Maya?”

She giddily claps her hands together, rushing out a quick “Yes!” before continuing talking to Jack.

Looking back at Aaron, you notice him already watching you. “Listen I’m sorry, that was work I’ve been called in” he states as he begins to gather his and Jack’s things ready to leave.

“No don’t apologise, that’s ok. You have my number if you ever want to set up that play date for the kids” you say with a gentle smile on your face, feeling disappointed you didn’t get the chance to ask him out.

“Only for a play date?” Aaron asks.

“What?”

“Is that all I can call you for? To arrange a play date for the kids? I mean they’ll definitely be happy about that but I was hoping I could take you out too? If you’d like that of course” he was starting to lose the confidence he had for a few seconds, before he saw the smile on your face.

“I’d love that. How about when you’re free from work you call me and we can plan the play date for the kids and the date date for us?” you add with a slight laugh.

He laughed back, softly, his eyes crinkling slightly and his head tilted back. God he was pretty.

“That sounds perfect. Come on Jack we’ve gotta go” as he handed Jack his coat. Jack didn’t seem happy about having to leave but didn’t argue it either. Maya on the other hand wasn’t happy her newest friend was having to leave so soon.

“Do you have to go?” She drawled out sadly, pulling slightly on Aaron’s sleeve, looking up at him.

Aaron turned around, kneeling down to get on Maya’s level. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ve got to get Jack to his Aunt’s house so I can go to work. But your mom and I are already planning a day for you and Jack to play together again ok? Does that sound ok?”

Your heart warmed seeing how gently he spoke to her, trying to make her feel better.

And it clearly worked, Maya no longer looked sad about the idea of having to play alone for the rest of the afternoon. Instead she was excited for the play date that was yet to come. She smiled wide and nodded at Aaron, him smiling back in return.

“It was nice to meet you Maya, remember to stay by your Mom’s side right where she can see you, no more running off.” He looked up at you with a slight smile on his face at this.

Aaron got back up to his feet and looked towards you again.

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow ok?” he says.

“Ok, I’ll be waiting” you reply, not bothering to hide your smile.

Grabbing onto his father’s hand, Jack waves you a final goodbye as the two began to walk away, Aaron taking one last look over his shoulder, sending you a gorgeous smile.

Once they were out of sight you turned back to Maya,

“Alright honey, how about we head home and get ready for dinner? I’m thinking we have Mac and cheese tonight.”

You knew your daughter would be more than ok with this. She was always in the mood for mac and cheese.

As she grabbed onto your hand and started skipping alongside you to the car, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. Pulling it out you can’t wipe the smile from your face.

Message from Unknown Number:

‘Hi, it’s Aaron. I just wanted to let you know both Jack and I had a great time today. He’s very excited to see Maya again for their play date. I personally can’t wait for our date date. Take care and speak to you soon.’

Whilst those two minutes of losing sight of Maya were the most stressful two minutes of your life, you’re got to look at the positives. Your daughter was perfectly fine, and she even got you a date.

Thank you Maya.

[namism]

Hey! Can you do some Sanji headcanons about y’all’s first time and afterwards. I want it very descriptive 🤭

your first time with: sanji

➳ categories: canonverse, female reader

➳ warnings: nsfw (afab reader, you and sanji are virgins, aftercare, visual references are provided; click to your heart's content, but remember that these are merely references and the reader is NOT depicted a certain body type/skin color in the narrative)

➳ notes: feedback is appreciated because idk how to write hcs! i added a little something to the prompt and i enjoyed writing it 😮‍💨😩

You and Sanji are always being interrupted that it's almost funny.

You want to lose everything to him since you've been seeing each other for quite some time, but you have never had sex yet and it's getting frustrating.

Unfortunately, the universe seems to hate the both of you because there is always some sort of disturbance that prevents you from having each other.

For instance, when a simple kiss turns into a heavy makeout session at the bathroom of the Thousand Sunny, Sanji would have his fingers playing with your clit, teasing and edging the fuck out of you because he loves watching your face contort into expressions of pleasure.

His other hand would play with your tits as he moans into your mouth loudly.

Unfortunately, his idiot Captain would interrupt the both of you in the middle of the act.

Sometimes you would ignore Luffy and continue, but when that happens, Luffy would bang on the door with his fists until he officially ruins the moment.

The lust is then replaced by awkwardness and annoyance.

Only then would you whine in frustration, slipping your hands off Sanji's chest while he angrily lets go of you to cater to his Captain's growling stomach.

On some days, when you really can't handle the ache in between your legs anymore, you would sneak into the kitchen after dinner to seduce Sanji here and there, asking him for a quick fuck on the counter while nobody is around.

However, Sanji being Sanji, he turns you down because he hates kitchen sex.

(He thinks it's a disgrace to food and the place where he makes the food. Sorry to all the kitchen sex Sanji lovers out there; it's a hot take, but I do stand by it.)

That said, you're left even more frustrated.

Even though the both of you can't get privacy on the ship, you still try to force it because why not?

There's a bed there and everything, so if you can get at least 20 minutes to yourselves, you would both be satisfied.

Thus, off you go, trying and trying and trying... but it still isn't enough.

Sanji would be balls deep in your mouth, cum running down his dick as you run your tongue up and down him so seductively.

You're ready to take him there, ready to lose your "v-card" to this man for looking delicious as fuck, that you bob your head up and down him with hasty excitement.

He would be reaching his high any moment now, feeling that tight knot at the pit of his stomach that calls for his release, but a knock on the door interrupts your life-changing blowjob.

At that second, you and Sanji are scrambling to your feet to make yourselves presentable, groaning to yourselves at the stupid interruption.

It's Chopper seeking for help, but as cute as he is, you're personally just mad as fuck that the moment was cut short.

Since the Thousand Sunny is too occupied, you and Sanji sneak off into town, finding a place where it's convenient to fuck.

Unfortunately, nine times out of ten, you still get disturbed by either 1) a Straw Hat, 2) an innocent local, or 3) some natural cock-blocking phenomenon that you just wish never happened.

The many times you and Sanji had to cut things short exceeds the number of fingers you have combined.

Since sneaking off into public doesn't do the job, you decide to bring Sanji to a love motel, where you can finally fuck to your heart's content.

That way, there's no hungry Captain, no little reindeer, and no other cock-blocker that can ruin the moment.

You and Sanji are virgins, but that doesn't mean you haven't explored each other before.

You've gotten away with many makeout sessions, fingering, blowjobs, and all that kinky shit in the past, so despite your lack of actual fucking/penetration, you know how to navigate each other's bodies.

Well, except when the situation gets too real. All of a sudden, Sanji is a nervous wreck as he feels that today is the day that you will finally get to fuck each other with no interruptions, and you would be lying if you said that you aren't nervous, too.

It hits you both like a truck that this is your first time taking each other.

It starts off slow and sweet with the both of you trying to register that it's actually happening.

Sanji kisses you like normal: hungry and eager, but reassuring to let you know that he won't hurt you.

Fucking Sanji for the first time includes everything you've done together in the past just because you finally have the moment to yourselves.

He'd finger you just the way you like—maybe even eat you out since he isn't in a rush—and praise you for how great you're doing.

Sanji is amazing at praise because he can't imagine himself being derogatory (even if you ask him to).

He loves to whisper the sweetest praises to you that keep you going, ending it all with a nickname that only he calls you.

He's so good with words that it turns you on, combined with the obvious fact that you're losing your virginity to him and he's losing his to you.

He would talk about it as he fucks his fingers into your pussy.

"I'm readying you for something bigger, princess. You're doing great."

When Sanji is done fingering you, it's your sign to get down on both knees and play with his dick.

You do the one thing he loves a lot: eye contact.

Sanji can get lost in your eyes as you suck his dick everyday and he wouldn't be mad about it.

He finds it sexy that you know how to hold a stare because there is nothing that he loves more than a confident woman who can make him pathetically crumble.

He melts into a puddle when he watches you stare him down with a mouth full of cock.

When it comes to actually fucking you, Sanji can't wait to position you on the bed where he wants you.

He has fantasized about entering you so often that he has a mental list of positions that he wants to try... but first things first, he asks you several times if you're ready and if you want to keep going.

He can't help it. Even though you both want it so badly, it's your first time doing anything of the sort, so he doesn't want you to regret it if you aren't up for it.

You always appreciate him asking you. Even as you kiss and do the cutest things, he always asks for permission.

This time, you're more than ready—so you nod at him, giving him the sign that he can proceed however he wants.

With that, he'd slowly push himself in you as he laces your fingers with his for comfort.

Once you're comfortable enough, that's when his lust starts talking.

Remember his mental list of positions?

One of them is having you on top of him.

He loves it when you ride him. It turns him on when you're facing him as you ride his dick because he has a great view of your tits, allowing him to lean forward and capture your nipples in between his lips.

However, he still loves reverse cowgirl. Even though he has his favorites, he won't deny himself of the opportunity of seeing your ass that way. That said, when you change positions, he turns you around gently so that he has a full view of your ass.

Once you're tired, Sanji would take control by laying you on your back and deciding what position he would like to see you in next.

Experimentally, he turns you on your side and raises one of your legs up as he pounds into you.

It turns him on further as he looks down at where you and him connect, watching himself disappear in you with every thrust forward.

He feels great pleasure in hearing you moan for him. Since it's your first time, Sanji asks you often if you're feeling alright, especially when your moans get louder all of a sudden.

When it comes to cumming on you, Sanji makes sure to ask you first.

He knows how sex and conception works; he isn't stupid. If you aren't on contraception, he makes it an important quest to ask you where you want him first, ensuring that he doesn't get you pregnant after your first time together.

He asks you when he's reaching his high.

"Where do you want me, my princess? On your tummy?"

Your tummy and your backside are the safest options, so he pulls out first, then releases.

After the sex, Sanji collapses on the bed and waits for you to calm down. Afterward, he peppers you with lust-free kisses, just sweet ones out of pure joy that you finally got to fuck each other after many tries.

He goes back to being the gentleman he is and cuddles you under the blanket. He enjoys the moment because he doesn't get to do this with you on the ship. The fact that you're already both naked is a bonus for him.

Sanji is totally the type to give excellent aftercare. After losing your virginity and getting absolutely fucked with passion and lust, he understands if you need a hug or two... so that's exactly what he does.

He stays with you on the bed, patting your head and cuddling with you, until you're ready to collect yourself and get dressed.

...although the crew won't be leaving until tomorrow, so you enjoy your stay at the island after an unexpected Round 2.

(Blame Sanji. He just can't resist you, but you can't resist him either.)

[n0tamused]

HSR/Genshin Characters as Dragons

A/n: guys this series is getting out of hand I think I need to end it (jokes on you I will never stop talking about dragons). I really hope you are all enjoying this as much as I am <3

Contents: Argenti, Boothill, Dottore as dragons, x reader, gn reader, angst, fluff

Ko-fi

Argenti:

-Another pretty dragon to the list, and one amongst the kinder ones out there. A gentle giant by heart, he seeks to protect all beauty and innocence in the universe

-His kind is generally perceived as greedy and hostile, but for all negative traits his species has, he makes up for them tenfold.

-He tiptoes around young ones and anyone too small or too slow, he carries them if need be without being prompted to. Elderly and the kids have grown to love his presence and assistance, however scarce it may be since he comes and goes like the wind, chasing whatever enemy he spotted. Sometimes he can be overbearing with how eager he is to help, be it in human or dragon form

-He doesn’t shy away from his dragon form whatsoever, and since it is made for battle he uses its advantages against his enemies. His scales are quite tough and not many things can pierce him, and the horn in the middle of his forehead acts like a spear. One swing of his head is usually all it takes to take down his opponent

-Even covered in blood and grime after a battle or trial, he still holds a certain air of regality and elegance as he walks down the path to civilization where he goes to get cleaned (idk but I keep imagining a specific image. It's Argenti with blood on his center horn and looking sort of unbothered or innocent. Like those images of unicorns with blood on their horns yk?)

-His spikes are reminiscent of rose thorns, and very sharp.

-While he appreciates all the praise, he doesn’t consider himself worthy of it, and while he does love all the kids running to him - he does prefer that they don’t touch him for the same reason. He is not worthy of it, he is a knight of beauty but he is tainted, and he doesn’t want to taint the little young souls.

-It took some time until he let you come close to his form, and for a little he did feel overwhelmingly guilty. He always carries a sense of guilt and incompetence, he got used to that taste in his mouth

-He would jump into any battle honestly, and especially if it involves you. He grew to care about you a bit too much

-He spends much more time in human form around you, when battle is done and over with he would go to you after getting cleaned and tidied up, wishing to know and hear again that you are alright. And while you talk he always wonders if you were blessed by Idrila themselves, or perhaps you were set on his path by the Goddess of Beauty for him to meet? If this was another trial, he felt like he was failing - and failure never tasted better.

-He prays he doesn’t lose you. He does love to sing you praises whenever he can, and if he is passing by in his dragon form he lets out a little purr/soft chirp.

-Argenti often visits later at night, a rose in hand yet to bloom fully. And by morning, the petals unroll to reveal the deep red bloom, but by then he is long gone, and the conversation is but a memory to you both

Boothill:

-Boothill is a feral dragon, a hostile one and is to be avoided at all costs - many posters around towns say so, and if there is a rumble through the ground you can be sure there are people herding others into the closest building.

-He is nothing to scoff at. If he was a fierce dragon before, the metal, indestructible body didn’t make him any less soft. The IPC certainly had their ‘fun’ with creating him as he is now. They had attempted to put wings on him but the new body was already too heavy, so that idea was scrapped. Boothill did have wings in his previous body, his own wings that took him high above the ground and over lakes and sandy dunes, but now he will never fly again. 

-Nor will he be human anymore. He had died in his dragon form, and the power which allowed him to go between human and beast had died along with his past life. He’s not sure what’s worse - being half machine, marked by anguish and anger, or not being able to see the world from the lenses of a human, from a 6ft height and not 20 or so feet higher than that. 

-He was confined to the ground. But as soon as he had made his escape from the IPC’s clutches, he was gone for good.

-He had done it himself and removed the chips that marked his location and destroyed pieces of him that would have revealed him, and he made use of the ground he knew too well, better than them anyway.

-Somewhere along the lines, he joined the Galaxy Rangers and they patched him up, gave him whatever missing pieces he needed and he found his place among them.

-It took a long, long time for him to somewhat settle in his new body, the phantom pains and limbs never went away though.

-Now, though, whenever he arrives at a new planet he doesn’t take up too much space or makes himself known, he prefers the life of solitude and his own solo missions

-Sometimes someone may bump into him, but they’re never harmed unless they’re a part of the IPC. He has developed quite the keen senses for them.

-However you wormed your way into his, now, mechanical heart, I congratulate you. Seeing how physically impossible it can be to reach him

-But Boothill is quite chill once you get into a talk with him, and although sometimes he can get lost in the talk he does try to keep his voice down to a lower volume so he doesn’t hurt your ears. He’d lay down after lighting a small fire for you, his eye closer to where he can see you “normally” - and not from somewhere in the clouds. And from there on you two would talk and exchange stories. If you happen to be another dragon he’d be more at ease, and more at home too since he doesn’t have to tip toe as much around you or around certain subjects

-If you happen to be another dragon he does love to lock horns from time to time and wrestle a little like that, it gives his real skin some stimulation and something to feel. It may not be a fair battle as he is mechanical, but he tries to make it fair by letting a few screws loose- he doesn’t tell you that though.

-Speaking of that, he did once have his wrist nearly fall off due to this, he was trying to get some more ground to push himself off and the screw just popped out and he slipped, crashing into the ground as if he forgot how to walk

-Regardless if you are just a human or if you can take a form of  dragon, you have earned yourself the scary dog privilege (a dog that is secretly real nice and soft when you are around)

-also side note but in the art I did forget to draw the "thumb" on his hind right leg, apologies but yeah he'd have 5 fingers on all his limbs

Dottore:

-DOTTTORRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE

-Anyway.

-He wasn’t well loved by his surroundings in the place he originally hails from and he was exiled by his own kin, being chased to the edges of his region to be left to the elements - wherever that may be at this point because all records give different answers, and no one who has gone after him has returned alive.

-The hunger for knowledge grew from day to day, he had grown quite obsessive with getting the results he wanted. At this time he wasn’t exactly small, so he’d use the size of his dragon to his advantage as well, be it to frighten someone or to amaze another. It didn’t matter, as long as he got what he wanted. He doesn’t know anything else but the acts of setting a hypothesis and proving it true, or wrong, or finding another result equally as good. Nothing pleased him more than to succeed.

-His original body was paler than the one he has now, and while that could be blamed on growing up, it can also easily be said that it was a result of his experiments, and perhaps this form is just one of his many clones. Who’s to say he doesn’t have a pale blue dragon spying somewhere else while this black beast stalks around the Akademiya?

-His wings have three appendages on them which allow for easy manipulation of items or opponents, so he doesn’t often see the need to revert back and forth between forms unless something is delicate and requires that human touch.

-He is calculating and a mastermind behind many inventions, both mechanical and medicinal based. He can easily cure many ailments or fix up complex pieces of machinery that have long since been lost to histories. He has invented his own too, the clones are the biggest proof and only a small glimpse of what he is capable of. 

-The Omega Build can be said to be the closest to what he looks like in truth, but in terms of personality they can differ a bit. Omega is much more selfish and prone to using charm that the Prime wouldn’t really strive to use.

-Dottore does have the size and strength and all the power he could need to take down anyone, and while he may not be the biggest dragon you should be smarter than to think he can fall easily in battle. He has the power that can match that of an Archon - you really think he would be defeated to someone lesser than that?

-Underneath that mask you may find either his red eyes and scarred face, or an open part of his body that reveals the metal underneath and the red star that act as his eyes.

-He can walk bipedally and quadrupedally. 

-Another thing he is quite proficient at is mimicking sounds, and with that he lured people in. Some papers, implied to be him and some other Akademiya student, talk about how the young female student was lured away by sounds into a cavern, where she was promptly ripped apart. This death was blamed on the starving tigers found in the area, but Dottore knows the real story behind that attack.

-He is quite a good looking dragon, but can easily make your blood run cold with a simple flash of his sharp teeth. 

-You want one of his feathers, you say? Sure, you may have one, he’ll pluck it out himself and hand it to you. But don’t think it will come free.

Size chart:

- Argenti is actually a smaller dragon for his kind

-Had a bit of a difficult time sizing these boys up, but shh

-Dottore was smaller before, but after he began to make clones and also modify himself he grew more as a result of all those experiments (but is this the 'original'? Hmmm)

-Boothill once looked a bit disproportionate in the first mechanical body he had, since the IPC got wrong measurements, or perhaps it was on purpose as an act of some humiliation to break his spirits, along with making him crawl around without limbs as "punishment" (ah yes, I love Boothill lore)

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @moonlitreveri3 @lexidraws2 @drowning-in-cabbages @creationsabyss @grimulf-of-the-wilderness @st4rrl1ghtwastaken @the-inquisitive-constellation @voiddance @the-bilkush @fictionally-attached

[supernotnatural2005]

yay you accept requests! 🥰 sometimes i think about how dean has endured a lot of touch that was not welcomed especially from monsters and of course michael 💔 it makes me think about a fic where reader is extra gentle with him and makes the effort to check in with him and ask for consent before doing different simple actions while theyre getting intimate. idk that might be kinda heavy to write and if it is please dont feel pressure to write it..... actually please don't feel any pressure at all to write it lol but i think youd really do it justice if its something youre interested in 🧡

Touch

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Michael is gone, for good, but his lingering torment still remains with Dean. Will he ever find closure, can you bring him back from this?

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings/tags: Angst, PTSD, established relationship, Light smut (18+Only), fluff.

AN: So I focused more on the aftermath with Michael, I feel it worked better with this request? To the lovely anon who sent it in, I hope I've done it justice for you? 🫣❤️ I hope you all enjoy ☺️

Main Masterlist

The last few weeks had been a delicate dance of watching Dean. Not in a way that felt suffocating, but in a way that was more about paying attention to the quiet things he didn’t say. You could see it in the way his shoulders tensed when people unexpectedly clapped him on the back or reached for him. It was subtle, but it was there. And you noticed.

Dean was no longer the man he had been before, even if he didn’t fully realise it. The constant tension in his body, how he always seemed on edge, the way his eyes would narrow in wariness at sudden movements—everything about him screamed that he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Michael to return.

And that was the difference, wasn’t it? 

Dean had been through hell before—literally. He had clawed his way out of the Pit, had survived Purgatory, had fought his way back from being a demon. He had been battered, broken, and stitched together more times than he could count, but through all of it, he had always been fighting, always been in control of his own choices, even when they were terrible ones.

But Michael? Michael had taken that from him.

Being possessed by the archangel had been a different kind of torment, a horror unlike anything he had ever endured. It wasn’t just about pain or suffering; it was about helplessness. He had been a prisoner in his own body, a passenger while Michael moved him like a marionette, speaking with his voice, wielding his hands, using his face—all while Dean could do nothing but watch.

Every moment had been filled with the unbearable certainty that it wasn’t a matter of if Michael would use him to hurt the people he loved, but when. And then Michael locked him away in his own head, had him living in some fantasy loop that you Sam and Cas shattered. It haunted him, and deeply so.

Jack had made sure Michael was gone for good, burned him up until there was nothing left, but that didn’t erase the damage. Knowing Michael couldn’t come back didn’t stop the nightmares. It didn’t stop the way Dean flinched when someone reached for him too quickly, or the way he sometimes stared at himself in the mirror for too long, as if expecting to see someone else staring back. It didn’t stop the lingering fear that there was still something inside him that wasn’t him. That maybe, in some way, he wasn’t just Dean Winchester anymore.

It had left a fracture in him, a barely visible fault line running through the man who had once seemed unshakable. Maybe no one else could see it, but you could. And maybe, deep down, Dean could feel it too—even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

You weren’t sure how to help him heal from something like that. But you knew being there was half the battle.

You didn’t want to smother him or act like he was fragile—Dean hated that more than anything—but you also didn’t want to pretend you hadn’t noticed the way he had changed. He wasn’t broken, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he was. He was healing. And healing took time.

So, you started small.

A gentle hand on his arm as you passed him a cup of coffee in the morning, fingers lingering just long enough to remind him you were there. A light brush of your knee against his under the table, subtle enough that he didn’t tense, but still something real.

When you drove into town, you’d reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his, letting your thumb trace slow, idle circles over the back of his knuckles. You never pushed, never clung—if he pulled away, you’d let him. But more often than not, he didn’t. He let you hold him, let himself get used to it. And when he did squeeze your hand back, even just a little, it felt like progress.

On the couch in the ‘Dean cave’ when you sat down to watch a movie, you’d sit close enough that your thighs touched, letting him decide if he wanted more. Some nights, he’d stay still, comfortable in your quiet presence. Other nights, he’d surprise you—letting his arm fall loosely around your shoulders, pulling you in just enough that you could hear his heartbeat beneath the layers of flannel.

You never made a big deal out of it. That was important. Dean never did well with being handled like something fragile. But little by little, you saw the shifts.

He started reaching for you. Taking your hand first when you walked through town, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over your knuckles the same way you did to him. Kissing your temple as you made breakfast together, his hand steady on your waist as he leaned in, warm and familiar. He let himself relax into you, like he used to—like before.

However, as the night stretched on and you curled up beneath the covers one night, waiting—either for him to join you or finding the familiar sight of him slumped over a library table, lost in whiskey and exhaustion—Dean appeared in the doorway. His shadow spilled into the room, not looming, just present.

You smiled at him, warm and welcoming, offering him the quiet reassurance you always did.

Something about him seemed different tonight—quieter, but not in the way that made your chest tighten with worry. Still, after everything, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was slipping again. But then, without a word, he crossed the room, climbed into bed beside you, and slipped under the covers—no hesitation, no distance, no walls.

That alone was enough to steal your breath.

He didn’t just press a quick kiss to your lips before rolling over like he had so many nights before. Instead, he moved closer, warm and solid, his arm carefully draping around your waist.

You stilled, startled by the shift—but pleasantly so.

Then, for the first time in what felt like forever, he held you.

Not just physically, but fully. Like he was here with you, really here, instead of somewhere far away, trapped in the shadows of his own mind.

A slow, lingering kiss pressed to your bare shoulder. Then another.

You sighed at the warmth of it, at the weight of him against you, at the silent promise in his touch that you hadn’t felt in so long.

“Thank you,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion.

Your fingers curled around his arm where it rested against you, squeezing lightly. “For what?”

“For sticking with me,” he admitted, his lips brushing your skin between words. “For loving me through yet another damn crisis.”

Emotion clogged your throat as you turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. His eyes—green, raw, open—held something you hadn’t seen in too long. Something him.

“It was never even a question,” you whispered, your fingers ghosting over his cheek, aching to soothe away the lingering remnants of his fear.

Dean exhaled sharply, like the words reached something deep inside him. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut, and he sighed—a real sigh, one that sounded like relief, like letting go.

Then, he turned his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm before capturing your lips with his own.

It wasn’t rushed or uncertain. It was slow, deep, sure—the kind of kiss you had missed, the kind that said more than words ever could.

It grew heavier, his hands finding your waist, gripping like he needed to anchor himself to you. You felt the heat of it, the want in it, and your heart ached with how much you had missed this.

Still, you pulled back, breathless, searching his eyes. “Dean…” you whispered. “Are you sure?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, he looked like your Dean.

His gaze was warm, adoring, steady—filled with something deeper than desire.

“I’ve never been more sure.”

And then, he kissed you again—more purposefully, more certainly, pulling you flush against him.

You let him lead, let him set the pace, let him take what he needed. But still, some small part of you hesitated, worried, unsure if he was ready.

Dean must have sensed it because his hands fisted in your camisole, his lips brushing yours as he broke away just enough to whisper, “I want you to touch me. Make me feel whole again.”

Your breath caught, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his voice. At the pleading look in his eyes. Like this—this—was the final piece he needed to reclaim himself.

And so, you did.

You held him tighter, your hands tracing familiar paths over his skin—relearning him, grounding him, reminding him that he was here. That he was Dean—and no one else.

Your fingers ghosted over his jaw, down the strong column of his throat, feeling the thick swallow beneath your touch. His breath hitched, his grip on you tightening like he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. You never would.

Instead, you pulled him closer, your lips finding his in a slow, unhurried kiss—one that deepened as his body melted against yours. He was warm and solid, all hard muscle and quiet vulnerability beneath your fingertips, and when your nails scraped lightly down his back, he shuddered.

His mouth parted against yours, a quiet groan slipping free as your bodies aligned. He pressed closer, hands roaming—hesitant at first, like he needed to be sure this was real. But when you murmured his name, when your fingers traced his spine and your legs tangled with his, something in him snapped.

The hesitation bled away, replaced by something deeper—something desperate.

His hands gripped your hips, strong fingers pressing into your skin as he guided you beneath him. His kiss turned hungry, consuming, like he was trying to make up for every night he’d spent distant, for every time he convinced himself he didn’t deserve this—you.

Between kisses, between slow, careful touches, you checked in with him—silent, unspoken questions in the way your eyes met his. And each time, he nodded. Yes. Encouraging. Needing.

And when he finally pushed inside you, his forehead dropped to yours, his breath faltering as a deep, broken sound rumbled in his chest. His arms tightened around you, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. But you only held him closer, guiding him through it, keeping him here—with you.

Soft reassurances spilled from your lips, your hands mapping his body—his back, his arms, the sharp line of his jaw. Gentle yet firm, never letting him go. Never letting him slip away. He breathed your name like a prayer, like it was the only thing tethering him to this moment, to you.

And then he moved.

Slow at first, each roll of his hips careful, like he was afraid to shatter the fragile reality of this—of you. His lips ghosted over your skin, relearning, savoring, his breath hot against your throat. But the restraint, the hesitation, it was slipping. You could feel it in the way his fingers tightened in your hair, in the way his body pressed flush against yours, desperate to be closer.

When he pulled back, his gaze met yours—warm, adoring, a little wet around the edges. He swallowed hard, his voice rough when he rasped, “God, I've missed you.”

Your fingers curled into his back, nails digging in just enough to ground him, and you kissed him—his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth—letting your own emotions spill into every touch. 

“I’m right here,” you whispered. “Always.”

Something in him cracked at that. A quiet, shuddering exhale. His jaw tensed like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just kissed you—slow and deep, pouring everything into it.

And then the desperation bled through.

His rhythm faltered, hips pressing harder, deeper, like he was chasing something just out of reach. His breath grew ragged, his hands roaming—gripping, pulling—like he needed to anchor himself in you.

His fingers threaded through yours, pinning them to the mattress as his pace turned urgent. A tremor rolled through him, his forehead pressing into the crook of your neck as he gasped your name. And you felt it—the way his body coiled, the way he was holding on, trying to keep control, trying to make this last.

But you didn’t want him to hold back.

So you whispered his name again, voice soft, coaxing. You let your hands wander, tracing his spine, dragging your nails down his back just enough to push him over that final edge.

And then, he let go.

A broken sound tore from his throat as his body shuddered against yours, as he buried himself deep, spilling into you with a raw, unguarded intensity. His grip on you tightened, his breath hot and uneven, your name falling from his lips like a prayer, like a plea.

And as the tension ebbed, as his body finally melted against yours, you felt it.

The shift.

The moment he finally, finally came back to you.

AN: So this was my first time in like over 10 years of fulfilling a specific request! 😅 It's a little angsty with a sweet ending 🥹. I hope it's what you were hoping for anon! 💕 And to everyone else I hope you enjoy 😊

Also i’m currently taking requests if anyone would like to drop one in 🤗

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @cevansbaby-dove @shadysoulangel @piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @jaredpadonlyyyy @waynes-multiverse @impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bejeweledinterludes @rach5ive @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @kayleighwinchester

[luvst4rc0r3]

HII so idk what's going on with the whole pregnant reader thing but I feel like u stabbed me bcz why u gotta make it so sad😭 but I thought about the idea that after reader's miscarriage and Jinx takes in Isha, she gets a taste of what it's like to be a mom and it gives her the hope to try again. But then after Isha dies, everything all goes to shit again (events of act 3 play out), but then after Jinx gets out of jail and teams up with Ekko, she goes to reader and says something like "once this is all over, we're getting out of here." And they move to bildgewater together and have an actual child there in a more healthy and happy space :)) maybe for a time skip part but idk lol, anyway just thought I'd leave this here!! Live laugh love Jinx

request: Your “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

It was super interesting.

And also made me cry😭😭

Can you write a happy ending for it?

TY if you do

request:I'm gonna need a good ending where Jinx and r have the baby and live happily ever after because that last ask fucked me up😭😭😭😭

"But good things don’t always last forever"

Jinx x F!Reader

WARNINGS: DEATH, MENTIONS OF MISCARRIAGE!! WC: 3165

NOTE: erm I hope yall are ok now.

Summary: After a heartbreaking miscarriage, you fall into despair, but Jinx—determined to bring light back into your life—unexpectedly finds a little girl named Isha, who needs a family just as much as you both do.

PT.1

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The hideout was quiet. Too quiet.

Jinx hated it.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing her leg as she watched you, curled up with your back to her, shoulders trembling under the blanket. You’d barely moved in hours. Days. It felt like weeks.

Jinx wasn’t great with words, but she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t make it better. The grief sat heavy between you, thick and suffocating. She wanted to tear it apart, blow it up, do something—but this wasn’t something she could fix with bombs or bullets.

So, she stayed. As much as she wanted to run from feelings, from pain, she stayed.

She reached out, brushing her fingers over your arm.

“Hey, toots…” Her voice was softer than usual. Hesitant. “Y’wanna get outta here? Just for a bit?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even stir.

Jinx sighed. She pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder before getting up.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered.

You didn’t respond.

Jinx wandered the streets of Zaun, hands stuffed in her pockets, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. She hated seeing you like that. Hated knowing there was nothing she could do to take away your pain.

She needed to find something. Something that could help.

It had been weeks since everything fell apart—since the baby was gone. Since your heart had shattered into something unrecognizable. You barely left the bed, barely ate, barely breathed.

Jinx never said it, but you knew it scared her.

She’d always been the reckless one, the impulsive one, the wild one. But now, you were the one slipping away.

And Jinx? She didn’t know how to stop it.

So, she did what she always did when the world felt like too much. She ran.

Jinx wasn’t looking for a kid.

She was looking for a fight, for trouble—something, anything to pull her out of her head. Out of you and the way you wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

But what she found was a girl.

Small. Filthy. Silent.

Fell on top of her while some guys chased her.

Once Jinx shot off the guys she crouched in front of her, frowning.

“Hey, shorty. What’s your deal?”

No answer.

The girl just stared.

Jinx clicked her tongue. “Oh, great. You’re broken too.”

Still nothing.

Jinx was about to leave—she wasn’t in the business of picking up strays—but then she saw it.

A fresh bruise, deep and purple, blooming along the girl’s cheek.

Jinx’s stomach twisted.

“…Shit.”

She wasn’t good at this stuff. She wasn’t you. But you… you would’ve stopped. You would’ve helped.

And maybe, just maybe, if she brought this kid home, you’d look at her again.

Jinx sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

“follow me or not. I don’t care”

She followed.

She studied the kid. Dirty, scared, alone. Just like she used to be.

Maybe… maybe this was it. The something she’d been looking for.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

You didn’t know what to think when Jinx came home with her.

You sat up in bed, blinking blearily as Jinx strolled in, dragging a small, silent child behind her.

“Babe, meet Isha. Isha, meet Babe.” Jinx grinned like this was normal. Like she hadn’t just brought home a whole person.

You just stared.

“…What?”

Jinx flopped onto the bed beside you, throwing an arm over your waist.

“She fell on me. Didn’t say a word. Figured, y’know, she could use some better company. We could use some better company.”

You looked at the child.

She was thin. Too thin. Her hands were curled into tight little fists, her lips pressed together in an unreadable line. She looked… wary. Not scared, not trusting. Just waiting.

For what, you weren’t sure.

But you knew that feeling.

Jinx sighed against your shoulder. “You’re not mad, are ya?”

You swallowed. No. You weren’t mad.

You were just… tired.

But when you looked at Isha—really looked at her—something deep inside you cracked.

Maybe it was the way she wouldn’t meet your eyes. Maybe it was the way she stood, stiff and defensive, like she expected you to tell her to leave.

Or maybe it was the way, despite all of it, she still stayed.

“…She can stay,” you murmured.

Jinx made a triumphant noise.

Isha didn’t react.

But when you got up and grabbed a blanket, draping it over her tiny shoulders, she didn’t flinch away.

That was enough.

For now.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The first few days were quiet.

Isha barely made a sound. You barely spoke. Jinx bounced between watching you both like a hawk and blowing things up in the dead of night, like movement could stop her from thinking too hard.

But, slowly, something shifted.

It started small.

You’d wake up in the morning, roll over, and instead of being met with an empty bed, you’d find Isha sitting on the floor, drawing.

She wasn’t great at it—her little hands were too shaky, the colors smeared—but it was something.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you wanted to do something, too.

So, one day, you sat beside her.

She tensed—always waiting for rejection—but when you picked up a crayon and started drawing next to her, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she handed you a blue one.

That was the first good day.

Jinx practically vibrated with excitement when she saw the two of you, sprawled out on the floor, doodling nonsense.

“Holy shit, progress!” she cheered, flopping onto your back. “Babe, you’re alive again!”

You snorted, nudging her playfully.

“This is a miracle!” Jinx gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Someone get me a camera—this belongs in the history books!”

Isha watched Jinx’s antics with wide eyes, and when you turned to her, you swore you saw something flicker on her face.

Something close to a smile.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

You couldn’t sleep much anymore.

ever since everything.

And tonight? Tonight was bad.

She woke up to the sound of you breathing too fast, fingers twitching in your sleep.

She didn’t hesitate.

Sliding closer, she brushed your fingers through your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Babydoll,” she murmured. “Wake up, love.”

you gasped awake, eyes darting wildly until they landed on her.

She didn’t say anything. Just held you.

Your arms wrapped around you tight—desperate, grounding—and for a while, you both  just stayed like that.

Then, small movement.

You looked up.

Isha stood in the doorway, blanket clutched in her hands, staring with wide, uncertain eyes.

Jinx let out a breath, forcing a smirk. “Hey, shortstack. Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

Isha hesitated, then shook her head.

You lifted the blanket, silently inviting her in.

For a moment, she stayed frozen. Then, carefully, she climbed onto the bed, curling up between you both.

Jinx snorted. “Well, well. Looks like we’re officially outnumbered.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Isha’s hair.

And for the first time in forever, you slept through the night, peacefully.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It started with a rainy day.

Zaun’s skies were always grim, but today, the rain came in heavy, flooding the alleyways and making the apartment feel even smaller.

Isha sat by the window, watching raindrops race down the glass. Her little fingers traced them, following each droplet with quiet concentration.

Jinx groaned dramatically, sprawled upside down on the couch, legs hanging over the backrest. “I’m bored.”

You smirked, looking up from your book. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” she shot back immediately, flipping onto her stomach. “Entertain me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not my job.”

Jinx gasped, hand over her heart. “Wow. Rude.” Then, she perked up, eyes gleaming. “Wait. I got it.”

She jumped to her feet, startling Isha, who turned and blinked.

“Pillow fort.” Jinx grinned, pointing dramatically at you. “Right now.”

You raised a brow. “Aren’t we a little old for—”

Jinx was already tearing cushions off the couch.

Isha watched her with wide, curious eyes.

Jinx caught her staring and grinned. “Whaddya think, shortstack? Wanna help?”

Isha hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded.

Jinx let out a victorious whoop! and tossed a blanket over her head. “Welcome to the chaos, kid!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

Within half an hour, the living room was transformed.

Blankets draped over chairs, cushions stacked like castle walls, fairy lights strung across the ceiling. It was warm, cozy, perfect.

Isha crawled inside, eyes wide as she ran her hands over the soft fabric.

Jinx flopped down beside her, arms behind her head. “Not bad, huh?”

You sat across from them, watching as Isha slowly, carefully, curled up between you both.

For the first time all day, she relaxed.

Jinx smirked, nudging you playfully. “See? Told you it was a good idea.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. You win.”

Jinx puffed out her chest. “Damn right I do.”

Isha watched your banter, something soft in her expression. Then—carefully, hesitantly—she reached out and took your hand.

Your breath caught.

She turned to Jinx, then did the same.

Jinx’s eyes widened.

Neither of you spoke.

You just squeezed her tiny hands, warmth blooming in your chest as the rain pattered softly outside.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It started with Jinx.

Because of course it did.

She thought it would be hilarious to put blue dye in your shampoo.

You stepped out of the bathroom, dripping wet, staring at her with murderous intent.

Jinx, sprawled on the couch with Isha in her lap, burst into laughter.

“Oh—oh my god—babe, you look—” She was wheezing, wiping tears from her eyes. “I—I’m sorry, I can’t—”

Isha, sitting innocently beside her, covered her mouth, eyes shining with amusement.

You crossed your arms. “You think this is funny?”

Jinx gasped for breath. “Babe, c’mon, you’re literally blue!”

Isha let out a small, breathy giggle.

You smirked.

“Alright, Powder,” you said sweetly. “Game on.”

Jinx’s laughter stopped.

“…Wait.”

By the end of the week, it was war.

You switched Jinx’s sugar with salt.

She short-sheeted the bed.

You put hot sauce in her morning coffee.

She filled your boots with glitter.

Isha, watching the chaos unfold, was delighted.

And then—

The prank truce.

Because somehow, somehow, Isha got caught in the middle.

Jinx had set up an elaborate bucket trap for you, but you weren’t the one who walked through the door.

Isha did.

The bucket tipped.

Flour everywhere.

A long, long silence followed.

Jinx paled. “Oh. Shit.”

Isha, completely dusted in white, blinked.

You braced for tears.

But instead—

She grinned.

Then, the softest, most mischievous giggle bubbled out of her.

Jinx gasped. “Babe.”

You were already smirking. “She’s one of us.”

Jinx wiped a fake tear from her eye. “I’m so proud.”

And just like that, Isha became the ultimate prank war champion.

You had created a monster.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Your life finally feels complete again.

For weeks you felt alone and scared. 

Scared that you failed Jinx.

You saw Jinx actual feel like she has a purpose again.

But then—

when you both were finally settling in your guy’s new life.

she was gone.

But now—

you guys have Isha

finally feel full again.

but good things don’t always last forever.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It happened too fast.

One second, you were all together—fighting, running, surviving.

The next—

Isha was holding a gun.

Your breath caught in your throat, legs moving before your brain could catch up.

Jinx screamed.

“Isha!”

Jinx lunged.

She almost made it.

Almost.

Isha’s eyes met yours—And then—

She was gone.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

And then—nothing.

Silence.

it wasn’t fair.

Not again.

Not her.

Not your baby.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Everything burned.

Piltover was drowning in smoke, fire licking at the streets, sirens screaming in the distance. The air was thick with dust and blood, and the world felt like it was cracking apart.

And maybe it was.

Maybe you were.

Jinx stood beside you, gun smoking, eyes wild. Her fingers twitched on Fishbones, but her grip was steady. It always was in a fight.

She turned to you, breath ragged, face smeared with dirt and sweat.

“Once we’re out,” she rasped, voice raw from screaming, “we’ll get the life we always wanted.”

You swallowed, gripping your own weapon, heart pounding against your ribs.

“Jinx—”

“I mean it.” She reached for you, gripping your wrist like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “No more running. No more fighting. Just us, babe. We’ll leave. Start fresh. We’ll have—”

She choked on the words.

But you knew.

She meant Isha.

She meant family.

She meant the life that was stolen from you both.

Your throat tightened. “Jinx…”

“I swear.” Her eyes burned, desperate, pleading. “Just hold on a little longer. Please.”

You exhaled shakily.

Then—slowly—you nodded.

Jinx let out a breath, pressing her forehead to yours.

For a moment, just one, the war didn’t exist.

It was just you and her.

Like it used to be.

Like it could be again.

If you survived.

If you made it out.

Jinx pulled back, smirking despite the blood on her lip. “C’mon, babe.” She lifted Fishbones. “Let’s finish this.”

And so, you did.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The war ended in fire.

You made it out.

Barely.

With nothing but your weapons, the clothes on your backs, and the weight of ghosts in your hearts—

you both flew away.

Flew away from the wreckage. From the war. From everything.

And when you stopped running—

You were in Bilgewater.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The first thing you noticed was the salt.

Bilgewater smelled like the sea—like salt and spice and damp wood. The docks groaned under the weight of ships, traders shouting over each other as people bustled past.

It was chaotic. Loud. Messy.

It was perfect.

Jinx stretched, arms high above her head, letting out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Smells like fish and crime,” she said, grinning. “I love it.”

You snorted. “You would.”

She turned to you, nudging your side. “You sure about this, babe? New place, new start—no more blowing stuff up for fun. You ready for that?”

You exhaled, looking out at the ocean.

The wind was soft here. The sun actually touched your skin instead of hiding behind smog.

You turned back to Jinx, taking her hand in yours.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m ready.”

Jinx’s grin softened.

She squeezed your hand.

“Then let’s go home.”

It wasn’t much.

Just a small shack near the docks—rickety, barely standing, but yours.

Jinx spent weeks fixing it up, scrounging for parts, muttering about “engineering genius” and “making this place badass.”

You just watched her work, heart full for the first time in what felt like forever.

Because she was happy.

You both were.

No more war. No more running.

Just waking up with Jinx tangled around you, her hair messy, her breath warm against your neck.

Just late nights on the rooftop, watching the waves, talking about nothing and everything.

Just peace.

And one day, as Jinx lay beside you, fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm, she whispered—

“We made it.”

You turned to her, brushing blue strands from her face.

“We did.”

She smiled, soft and real, and for the first time in a long time—

There were no ghosts.

No war.

No grief.

Just you and her.

And the life you always wanted.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Bilgewater had been home for a couple months now.

The war was a distant memory, just a story told in whispers between you and Jinx when the nights stretched too long and the past felt too close.

Life had settled.

Jinx still tinkered, still got into trouble, still stole things just because she could. But she was happy. She laughed more, slept easier, held you like she was afraid you’d slip away in the night.

And you?

For the first time in your life, you were at peace.

But something was missing.

Something you and Jinx didn’t talk about out loud—not for months, not after what happened.

Then one night, as you both lay tangled on the couch, a storm raging outside, Jinx spoke—soft, hesitant.

“…Do you ever think about it?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant.

You turned to her, fingers brushing absentmindedly through her blue strands. “Every day.”

Jinx swallowed.

She sat up, looking at you—really looking—and her voice was barely a whisper when she said—

“What if we tried again?”

Your breath caught.

Jinx rushed ahead before you could answer.

“Not—not to replace her,” she stammered. “Never that. Just… I dunno. We had a good thing. A great thing. And I think we could—” She exhaled sharply, eyes darting away. “Forget it. Dumb idea.”

You caught her chin gently, making her meet your gaze.

“It’s not dumb,” you said. “It’s perfect.”

Jinx blinked.

Then—slowly—her lips curled into a small, hopeful grin.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

BONUS!!!!!

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It took time.

But one day, finally, you held her.

Tiny. Fragile. A weight so light it barely felt real in your arms.

You stared down at the baby, throat tight, heart pounding in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

Jinx hovered beside you, practically vibrating.

“D’you think she’s defective?” she muttered.

You snorted. “Jinx.”

“She hasn’t said anything.”

“She was literally just born.”

Jinx huffed, poking the baby’s cheek. “Still. I expected more personality.”

The baby let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

Jinx melted.

“…Okay, that was kinda cute.”

You shook your head, smiling. Then, quietly, you whispered—

“Isha.”

Jinx froze.

The boat went silent, save for the distant sound of the waves against the docks.

You looked up, meeting Jinx’s eyes.

Her breath hitched.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—slowly—Jinx exhaled, her lips curling into something small, soft.

She reached out, tracing a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny fist.

“Isha,” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper.

Like it was something sacred.

You nodded, eyes stinging.

“She deserves to be remembered…both kids need to be remembered”

Jinx swallowed, blinking rapidly.

Then, suddenly, she grinned.

“Well,” she said, nudging your shoulder. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t start a prank war.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Isha’s tiny forehead.

“No promises.”

Jinx smirked.

Then she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours, whispering—

“We made it.”

You smiled.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “We did.”

And as Isha let out a tiny yawn, curling into your chest, the past finally let go.

The war was over.

The ghosts were gone.

And the life you always wanted?

It was here.

It was real.

And it was yours.

I love making angst and fluff stories!! They are so fun to craft!!

I want sleep.

[omgsecretsecret]

I don't want to go ! Part 2

Pairing : Lee Minho x gn!reader ; established relationship

Genre : angsty, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

Word count : about 930

Warnings : phobia of needles ; crying ; panick attack ig (idk if it's exactly one)

Author's note : I'm so sorry for taking so much time to post it but it's out now for Christmas (btw merry christmas to everybody who celebrates it and happy day to everyone doesn't <3) ; lots of love and bisous to @giddyfatherchris for helping me ; the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners

Request : « Can you do a part 2 of the don't want to go lee known fic, where lee know comforts the character while getting a shot, the character cries too, maybe puts up a fight because she doesn't want to get a shot? Lee know tries to keep distracted. » by @200billionlightyearsaway

Masterlist || Part 1

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

Honestly, you are happy to have Minho with you, his presence is always reassuring. But at the same time, it's so embarrassing. How could a grown-up like you need their boyfriend to go to the doctor? You feel so childish.

You don't notice the way he's looking at you with slight concern, but you do feel him taking your hand. You smile at him and he simply squeezes your hand. You give your name to the secretary for the appointment, then go in the waiting room. Everything seems so slow, you feel like you're waiting forever. Why are doctors always late?

When you are finally called, you don't even know if you are relieved to leave the room full of sick people or if you want to run away even more. You tense up as you enter the medical room and Minho's hold on your hand tightens.

It's like you're not completely there when the doctor asks a few questions, letting Minho answer as you try to handle the anxiety threatening to overwhelm you. You feel so stupid. Why are you so damn scared of a simple fucking needle ?

Minho has to call your name three times to finally get you to react. You blink a few times before slowly getting up, your movement almost shaky. Your body feels weak as you walk to the examination chair and you are just unable to let go of your boyfriend's hand. The sound of your own heartbeat pulsing in your ears and your already heavy breathing covers everything else around you. You can't see the look of worry on Minho's face as your eyes get glassy, but when you hear the doctor pulling out the needle, you break down.

You instinctively grip his arm as you can't hold back the tears that immediately fill your eyes, looking up at him with genuine distress. You can't do this. You don't know why you react so strongly, but you just can't keep it together. You suddenly start crying, pulling on Minho's arm and messily begging him to get you out of here. You don't care about what the doctor might think of you anymore, all you want is to go home.

"Baby, baby... It's okay. Calm down, love. Just calm down. he whispers sweetly as he cups your face and crouches down to be at your eye level, but it doesn't help.

— No it's not ! I can't just fucking calm down ! You think I do this on purpose ? You think it's easy ? I can't –"

You want to keep talking, keep telling him how you feel, how wrong he is, but you can't. A loud sob interrupts you and you just can't speak anymore. You cower down and cover your face as you cry, attempting in vain to suppress your sobs. Of course you know you should calm down, of course you know your reaction is disproportionate, but you can't control it.

Minho's heart clenches at the sight. He hates seeing you in this state, but it's not like he's going to blame you. He lets out a soft, pained sigh before carefully wrapping his arms around you. He holds you gently, with all the love of a man who only wants to comfort his partner.

You bury your face into his neck, shaky hands coming up to clutch his shirt lightly. He doesn't say a word, simply holding you close and rubbing your back. In a last surge of resistance, you weakly whisper that you want to leave, even trying to get up but it's halfhearted. You know you have to take that damn shot. Minho just keeps you there when you try to move, pressing you against his chest.

"Baby ? You're going to get the shot okay ? You can do it, baby. I won't let go of you, I'll be right there. You can cling on me all you want. But we have to do it, okay ?" he whispers softly without pulling away.

You don't reply, don't nod, but your lack of protests serves as a silent agreement. Minho kisses your forehead lightly in encouragement before looking at the doctor and nodding for her to go ahead. He talks you through it, keeps you close and lets you squeeze him, not even reacting when you dig your nails into his shoulder.

The doctor puts down the empty needle, patiently waiting for you both to be done. Minho tries to be a bit quick as to not make her wait too much, but still takes his time to make sure that you're fine.

"Are you okay kitten ?" he asks softly, watching as you nod weakly.

He presses a small, tender kiss to your lips before turning to the doctor, keeping your hand in his. You hear him apologize to the doctor, but she's quick to reassure him. Kids are way worse, and we can't control our phobias. Minho gives her a soft smile before paying, grateful for her understanding.

He looks at you again and his gaze softens with love when his eyes meet yours. You look drained, exhausted even, and honestly you are. He helps you get up, bows towards the doctor and leads you out. He holds your hand all the way to the car, only letting go when you are settled in your seat so he can go to his own.

"You're okay. he says softly.

— I love you. you reply and he chuckles at the suddenness of the declaration, a mix of amusement and fondness filling his heart.

— Me too, kitten. So much." He whispers before kissing you gently.

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

🤫 there will be a bonus part soon, tell me if you want to be tagged

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[nightmare-foundation]

it is only complex bc abuse is always done with purposeful intent. that is the textbook definition. who accidentally abuses someone? you don’t have to label his emotional incompetence as abuse. cause it’s not. that makes no sense… cause his character isn’t one dimensional. it’s literally just a character flaw, even if it hurts someone’s feelings. just like how jason is a hypocrite and dick practices escapism instead of dealing with his problems. majority of the times when he’s fighting another bat or bird, it’s either mutual or out of his control, so yeah ima give him grace by ignoring highly ooc comic runs. cause no one’s character is consistent, especially if you’re the freaking batman. idk, speaking generally when u literally get to build-a-bruce wayne is mainly just a skill issue, so maybe u just want him to be abusive?

Anon, abuse can absolutely be unintentional. You can unintentionally hurt people like that. Abusers don't always look at the people they abuse and think "I'm hurting and abusing them"- a lot of the time they really aren't aware they're being abusive and even think they're being helpful. I'm not saying some abusers go "whoopsie daisy!" And slip up like how you'd accidentally drop a vase. I'm saying the abuse Bruce puts the batkids through, especially Dick, is something he's doing not knowing he's being abusive or neglectful.

As an abuse victim, yes this is possible. My dad is abusive, but he isn't at all aware of it. Does he still love me to absolute bits? Of course. I don't doubt that he loves and cares for me. Is he still abusive? Absolutely. This is the case for Bruce.

His emotional incompetence is absolutely a character flaw, but how he goes about it with his kids is harmful. Take this example:

>Robin: Year One #3

This is just after Dick was nearly beaten to death by Two-Face. Bruce is genuinely afraid here, he's blaming himself for what happened to Dick and thinks that firing Dick will keep him safe. But he communicates absolutely none of this to Dick; he just yells at him, fires him, and then gives him the cold shoulder for months. Dick feels like such a failure that he runs away, thinking that Bruce doesn't want him around anymore. And i don't think this is ever really rectified or resolved. Dick becomes Robin again, but Bruce insists that he follow orders like a "good soldier".

And this incident still weighs heavy on Dick years later, thinking of it as his failure, especially since the whole situation was so traumatizing.

>Robin #0

And this is just one example of Bruce being emotionally incompetent and hurting Dick in the process. There's also the entirety of Batman #416, Batman #408, and NTT #55, all separate incidents where Bruce is unable to communicate and hurts Dick in the process. This is very present throughout their entire relationship, and there's far, far more examples of Bruce's emotional immaturity/incompetence being harmful, not just to Dick, but to the rest of the batkids as well (I believe it's one of the reasons Jason ran off to find his birth mother).

Bruce pretty much never communicates, not even to offer praise. This is something that frequently comes up and is even joked about (Dick being weirded out in Batman: Under the Red Hood when Bruce thanks him), but is a strong point of insecurity for the Robins. In fact, Dick wasn't even sure what Bruce really thought of him, if he thought about Dick at all (Gotham Knights #14). Jason also doesn't believe Bruce loves him, thanks to the sheer differences in communication styles and beliefs (which, honestly, the tragedy of that warrants it's own post), and I believe Damian has stated that, if it made Bruce happy, he'd stop existing (I'm not sure what comic it's from, so take this with a grain of salt). I'm not sure about Tim, honestly, since I haven't read his comics, but I wouldn't be surprised if the pattern continued with him too.

And ALL of this stems from Bruce being emotionally neglectful. A lot of issues in the batclan comes from this, honestly. Neglect is, by definition, abuse, even if it's just emotional neglect. This is often paired with Bruce miscommunicating if not outright being verbally abusive (such as yelling at Dick, as seen above), or even physically abusive (Nightwing #30, NTT #55, and at least half a dozen other instances with Dick alone).

Speaking of, I also don't believe Bruce being physically abusive is actually OOC, mostly because it's a trait that's been present since the Golden Ages, and Bruce is the one who decided beating up criminals was a good alternative to therapy. Bruce in general has a lot of anger issues, and is a pretty violent person. This is nothing new, and if you don't count the Golden Ages as canon, it's been at least present since the 80s. It's been consistent over a long period of time, and because of that, i really don't see Bruce being physically abusive as OOC, except for in certain cases (such as RHATO #25 and Gotham War, both incidents that I don't believe are in character when it comes to Bruce's opinions on Jason killing based on previous comics).

I don't really "want" Bruce to be abusive. I think it'd be better if he wasn't, but at this point, the batkids' characters hinge on him being abusive or at the very least neglectful, otherwise, aspects of their characters don't particularly make sense. Also, all of this is stuff I've picked up on as I slowly get through comics and read more meta posts. I'm not the kind of person who makes things up, and if I'm proven wrong about something, I typically reevaluate my thoughts, step back, and admit that I'm wrong. And so far, I really haven't seen any real evidence towards the "Bruce isn't abusive" column beyond people saying "these comics are out of character"- which is subjective.

Also, I only don't like it when people say that he's not abusive and then list things that are abusive. Mostly because it's genuinely dangerous.

Also also, I'm not saying Bruce is irredeemable or an awful person. He certainly isn't great, but he's absolutely capable of change and he loves his kids to death. There's almost nothing he wouldn't do for them (except kill, obviously, which is honestly something I agree with him on). I think he's stubborn and hot-headed, but once he actually sees the harm he's caused, I think he's fully willing to change, even if it's hard for him. Bruce is far from heartless. He cares a lot! He's just fucked up and has a ton of unresolved trauma that messed up his parenting. I really can't state how much I believe Bruce cares for and loves his family.

Anyways, at the end of the day, I believe Bruce is abusive. Abuse has a lot of nuance to it, and to a lot of people, abuse is always done intentionally and knowing that what they're doing causes harm. But this isn't always the case. Bruce is, imo, a really good depiction of an abuser who genuinely loves his kids and thinks he's doing right by them. And I honestly prefer his character this way; Bruce is WAY more interesting to me if he's fucked up like this.

Sorry this took a minute to answer, I have a lot of thoughts on this topic.

[stormflypirateskin]

"My Precious One" Sprout X Cosmo Angst

Oop- did I drop this?? Totally isn't inspired by @cupcakewebkinz cursed runs of them dying as Sprout to Cosmo in the funniest fucking way ever that it became a meme??? The fucking silence after Kai died? FUCKING COMEDY I STILL REMEMBER THE DEATH SOUND, ECHOS IN MY BRAIN ANYWAYS GO FEAST OR CRY Y'ALL IDK

Btw even though I ramble UNHINGEDLY, this is legit angst so uhhh ig don't read if you don't wanna feel sad/bad/anything (or do, I'm not stopping you sksksk)

I promised Kai Fruitcake angst, she got it BAHAHAHAHAHA, sorry Kai didn't hold back at all MSMSMSMS

Sprout's footsteps echoed in the floor as he carefully made his way towards the kitchen area in the diner. His hand clutched the bag filled with all sorts of items and tapes as he looked around for any kind of resources that would help his team in any way. His chest felt heavy as he looked around the now lifeless like kitchen as memories came rushing back to his brain. Memories of staff or even him and Cosmo cooking and baking here.

He approached one of the long tables and gently placed his hand on the surface, feeling the material of it as he sighed. He really wondered where it all went wrong. This place used to be so filled with kids with their families, staff and toons and was just so full of life. Now? It feels so off, the atmosphere was cold and unwelcoming and the lights didn't shine as brightly as back then. Even old expired ingredients lied around the kitchen, only very few could still be eaten and it was those ones that Sprout snatched up and placed them on his bag.

He always carefully inspected them before taking them with him. Sprout's bag felt heavier but he had the energy to carry all those things. He might even cook something for his fellow teammates that accompanied him through all these floors. Well.. if only this kitchen worked but with the electricity and how the situation is at this place? Up at the lobby was always preferred.

The strawberry boy softly exhaled from his nonexistent nose as he felt how much resources he had gathered, he felt like he could carry a bit more so he looked around, something to help everyone up there who had remained. It still pained him knowing what had happened to his previous friends and everyone else, he felt like he had failed them, that he couldn't protect them all or keep them safe from anything anymore.

His lips became a thin line as he hid from a roaming twisted Boxten who walked slowly, even the music box himself not even knowing where to walk yet he still roamed around this entire floor without any hints of stopping. Sprout watched carefully as Boxten's head twitched with ichor hands coming out of his head, a wide smile on his face as his eyes looked so intense. Sprout might not show it but it really does get to him a lot by how his friends became like this, someone familiar yet so, so different at the same time. It took a bit for Boxten to leave the kitchen area and Sprout remembered how he and Cosmo taught him how to bake, too bad it will never happen again.

He got up as he dusted himself off and took slow and careful steps around the area, knowing that it wasn't just Boxten that roamed around here. Honestly, it was almost scary how you couldn't even hear them, especially when they walked slow and steady around this place. They could be around the corner, for all we know. Sprout found that out the hard way once so he always avoided those areas, unless he was trying to hide suddenly.

But who he saw next made him freeze completely as he stood still, shaky hands gripping his bag as his eyes widened. He felt all the warmth from his face drop as his chest felt heavy. He watched as twisted Cosmo took stumbling steps in front of him as he raised his quite big ichor claws, trying to hurt Sprout even if he couldn't see that well. Sprout took careful steps back, avoiding all his attempts before his back hit one of those long kitchen tables, on top of it being a baking pan they used back in the good old days.

"C-Cosmo..! It's me.. can't you see..?!" He said desperately as he also tried to be quiet enough to not be heard by anyone else. He quickly grabbed the baking pan and used it as a shield to try and block Cosmo's strong attacks, some ichor flying his way as Cosmo hit his hand hard there, tearing some off the material off with his sharp claws. Sprout's hands shook more as he kept it there while also trying to avoid him as much as he can and not hurt him.

Cosmo grunted as he raised his hand again, quicker this time and tore through the baking pan, making Sprout throw it away as he got out of there and took steps back, watching as Cosmo's mouth trembled as he held an expression of mixed anger and confusion. It was safe to say that he didn't recognize Sprout, even if those two were lovers. Sprout's hands became fists as he avoided Cosmo's swinging ichor arm. It seemed that Cosmo couldn't see very well.. it was something Sprout noticed about every twisted he saw, they didn't seem to have the best sight and Cosmo also having one eye covered in ichor? It honestly broke Sprout inside seeing him like this. But it wasn't the time to regret about things now.

"Cosmo.. look at me." Sprout gripped Cosmo's wrists up when Cosmo tried attacking him again as now Sprout faced him, holding his wrists so tightly that Cosmo couldn't break free. Cosmo was clearly frustrated as he struggled and growled under his breath but if Sprout used less power now.. it wouldn't be good. "Please.. don't you remember me? Do you remember this kitchen? What we used to do here?" His voice shook as he showed a painful smile with his eyebrows furrowed to Cosmo, his strength still strong.

Cosmo's eye glared at him as he still tried to get away but it remained on Sprout now. Sprout's smile shook as he leaned a bit closer, his eyes softening as he felt the guilt eat him from the inside. He did feel like he failed everyone else but especially Cosmo, the most important toon to him. Watching him like this hurt more than anything else. Watching the toon he loves the most having such a fate like this.

"We used to bake here a lot.. the whole kitchen would smell really nice as we just.. laughed and talked together about all sorts of things and plans." Sprout continued to talk, his voice more soft now as he continued to look at Cosmo, hoping to maybe just.. get through to him, something, anything. He knew it was stupid to try but there he was, doing it anyway instead of running away from him. Maybe Cosmo was truly gone forever.

Sprout flinched for a moment when Cosmo grunted like he was in pain and suddenly overpowered him, pushing him on the floor, his ichor claws managing to land a deep cut on Sprout's arm without even trying much. Sprout jumped and his shaky hand pressed down on the open wound that was bleeding nonstop ichor, a hand couldn't do much about it. He would need more than a band to cover the wound and he didn't have anything like that on him, as he gave it to one of the other toons.

He expected Cosmo to do more, especially now that he was defenseless but Cosmo just.. stood there. The arm that attacked Sprout, he was just looking at it as ichor fell on the floor, with no idea if the ichor was from his arm or Sprout's. It was like his anger had disappeared as he looked at Sprout sitting down there on the floor, Cosmo didn't know what got over him, all he could understand was that he had the biggest headache in his life when Sprout talked to him about something.. very familiar.

Cosmo watched as Sprout kept panicking and took a step back, his ichor hand trembling slightly as he continued to watch him with an intense eye, not knowing what to do. Like his ichor filled mind had shut down completely, he felt that something was very wrong as he looked at the open wound. Cosmo's head continued to hurt as he rested his hands there, trying to stop the headache and whatever else he was feeling that was killing him. He growled lowly before running away, getting away from Sprout as he figured the pain was caused by him. Cosmo felt tears building up on his eye as he left the scene.

"Cosmo!!" Sprout called out to him as he extended his hand, his palm covered in ichor before cursing under his breath and holding the wound as tight as he could again, his strength not as much as before. Sprout took deep breaths before looking towards the direction of where his team would be. If he could make it in time.. before he felt himself passing out from the bleeding, maybe he had a chance.

"No.. no!!" He pushed himself off the ground as best as he could before he started to book it towards any direction, trying to find the others. Unfortunately for Sprout, he couldn't see anyone around. They were probably too busy hiding or doing machines somewhere. His mind raced as he looked around, anyone would do at this point as he bled a lot. Facing the closed elevator door got him freaking out a bit more since no one was around there. Would he be able to make it? He felt increasingly more weak and dizzy. What would happen to the others if he passed out now? He didn't want to fail them. He COULDN'T fail them now.

Though when he felt his view darken and the ichor that was spilling from his wound start covering his hand and making it feel heavier by the minute as well as his eyes hurting? It didn't take long for Sprout to collapse on the floor as he felt his arm overpowering him. He looked ahead as best as he could as tears fell from his eyes yet he still couldn't spot a poor soul in here.

"Cos..mo.. every..one... I-I'm so so..rry.."

[tmntxthings]

I watched it 🤭🙌🐢💜❤️💙🧡

so good! so cute!!! spoilers below the cut ↓

soooooo I really really really enjoyed how much effort they put into making them like sad about their circumstances, the reality of it all, being a mutant and wanting to be accepted by humans,

Splinter not being a human to begin with but just a rat and quite frankly traumatized by humans all his life so very distrustful and doesn’t want his sons going through that or getting killed, and what tops the cake is that he actually tried to go out on his own with the tots, only to be instantly turned on, which just solidified the fear! even though he wasn’t just a rat anymore he was still cast out, still shunned!

but the turtles were too young to really remember that so they had endless hope, at least Mikey, Donnie, and Raph, kinda sorta Leo especially when April came onto the scene 🤭

WHICH SPEAKING OF THAT! Idk how I feel, super cute, Leo liking April instantly reminded me so much of 2k12 Donnie maybe a less intense version, all the scenes where romance was implied wasn’t so heavy (maybe slightly cringe) but still had me smiling so I guess I’m for it????? Still need to think on it more, overall my thoughts are : cute ✨ Leo was just being so cute 💀

THE BROTHERS WERE DRAGGING HIM OUT THO, like practically the whole first half of the movie, which is typical for tmnt, but gah damn 😂 it was so apparent when just Donnie, Mikey, and Raph would group up/link up, because Leo would constantly “rat” them out to the rat! Super different vibes from rise!leo for sure, that was kinda switched where Mikey was the one who couldn’t really lie… and it wasn’t about lying per say, just Leo being a pleaser? or a good kid? or wanting to do the right thing??? maybe that’s all the same thing as not wanting to lie 😂

anyhow, my favorite part had to be the very first fight scene the bros go into! Leo springing into action, being the one to propel his brothers into danger all because he wanted to help April (again so cute) get her scooter back! Technically their fault too! Anyhow they were getting whooped but also holding their own simultaneously, and just thinking quickly on their feet and helping each other out, it was all pretty intense and very stressful like where Mikey almost got run over twice 😨 I was like oml someone do SOMETHING!!!!! Thankfully we got big bro Raph, always coming in clutch! But yeah I just really enjoyed the first fight and them coming out on top! And right after being accepted by their first human aka April O’Neil!!!!!!!!! :D

There’s so much more to say, I could quite literally write down everything that happened in words but not gonna go there 💀💀 anyone wanna just gush about the movie?!? What was your favorite part??! What do you guys think about Leo x April???

AND THE SEQUEL WITH SHREDDER 🤩🤩🤩

Do we have a date yet??? Oml so flippin’ excited that we have confirmed more content on the way!!!

Someone, anyone, TALK TO MEEEEEEEE 💞🤗😚

[tiki-was-here]

Nacho Varga x “Adult” Streamer Reader

Word Count: Idk but it’s short

This was supposed to be a full fic but now I feel like it’s a poorly constructed character study to help get me back into the groove of writing. Last time I took a break I didn’t write for two whole years so let’s hope I stay focused

Ignacio Varga had money, sure. Power, to an extent. But none of it ever felt like his. He wasn't running things, he was just surviving. Day in, day out, playing puppet to men with guns and crooked grins. His father’s disappointment sat heavy on his chest, eating at the one part of him that hadn’t been swallowed up by this life.

It had been three days since the girls left. Or maybe five. He couldn’t tell anymore. They smoked too much, laughed too loud, but they didn’t ask questions—exactly the kind of distractions Nacho needed.

The condo was dark. A single lamp flickered in the corner, casting long shadows across the bare floor. Nacho sat in front of his laptop at the kitchen counter, shirtless, a bottle of something half-empty near his elbow.

He didn’t even know what he was looking for anymore. Porn didn’t hit the way it used to. It was all static now—moaning, forced grins and pixelated skin. An ad for a cam site popped up and he clicked it without even thinking. Getting a virus would be the least of his worries right now.

One particular stream caught his eye. Simple lighting. Clean room. You were there, talking to the camera, laughing softly at something someone had typed in chat before leaning closer to read another. Something about you made him click.

The preview was a minute long. It was mostly just you talking to people who'd probably been watching you for a while, sipping from something from a cup. He waited for the inevitable moment where you'd lean forward, offer a smirk, whisper something filthy, but it never came. Maybe that’s why he didn’t click away.

Then the timer ran out and a message popped up prompting him to create an account if he wanted to keep watching.

A few minutes later, his card was charged, and he was back in your stream.

Normally, Nacho didn’t give things like this more than a passing glance. But tonight, the silence was louder than usual, and something about the quiet in your voice,maybe the soft cadence of it, the way your eyes seemed to be filled with a light he hadnt seen in a long time,hooked into the place inside him he usually kept hidden.

He started planning his nights around your schedule, started tipping more. Sometimes two hundred, sometimes five. He didn’t ask for anything special in return, just wanted to hear you talk. To see that look on your face when you read his name.You always smiled when you saw it.

That fucking smile.

He never used the cam option of course. Not even when he’d worked up the courage to buy a private session with you. Safety played a big part in his decision, but in truth he didn’t want you to see how tired and worn he looked.

He caught himself thinking about you during runs. Counting time until your next stream. Checking his phone in the middle of deals. His house started collecting unopened takeout containers and dust, because he didn’t care to leave the laptop for long. He bought better headphones. Cleared his schedule on the nights you were on.

It felt good,safe.

It made him feel like someone was looking at him—not Nacho —but Ignacio. The scared kid who used to help his dad fix cars in a tiny garage that smelled like oil and metal. The kid who the world had aged faster than it should have.

But nothing good ever lasted long in Nacho’s world.

A call came one night while you were telling a story about your day. He let it ring twice before muting it. But then it rang again. And again. And again.

Nacho sighed and picked it up.

“Varga. Where the fuck you been?”

He didn't answer, just let out a scoff of slight annoyance.

“Got a drop. Tonight. You in or not?”

Nacho stared at the screen. You were laughing now, eyes crinkling just right, holding your drink up like a toast to the chat. He wanted to stay. God, he wanted to stay.

But that wasn’t how it worked. You could buy time in this life, but not freedom.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m in.”

[archangeldyke-all]

Baby love pics alongside my ask

Modern au Sev and reader who run a puppy foster home? Maybe Sev gets really attached to one of the pups and wants to adopt her for herself? Idk do what you want with this

mars there are tears in my eyes, baby love is not a baby anymore 😭 what a big girl!!!

men and minors dni

with slayer and sugar growing old, their faces getting white and their energy levels getting lower, you and sevika have had more free time on your hands. your sunday morning hikes with your puppies (slayer in a little carrier on sevika's back, sugar proudly carrying the biggest stick she can find the entire walk) have gotten much shorter as their joints get sore, and your nightly walks around the park have turned into walks around the yard-- both of them losing their stamina.

and you know it'll fucking suck once they pass on. and you know it'll suck for sevika even more, because she's never lost a pet before. she doesn't know how hard it'll hit her.

so, after a bit of research, some meetings at the local shelter, and a few trips to the pet shop-- you and sevika decided to become foster moms for dogs.

slayer and sugar are chill enough in their old age to provide the perfect, calming enforcement for anxious or previously abused dogs. the temporary additions to your family will keep you and sevika active while your dogs age, and they'll help soften the blow when it's time to say goodbye to sugar and slayer.

what you fail to consider, is that both of you are total fucking suckers-- and being foster parents means having to say goodbye to the dogs once the shelter finds them a family.

you accidentally adopt 3 dogs before you give up on fostering.

the first dog you foster is a grumpy old beagle named bernard. his previous owner was a ninety year old woman who died, and who couldn't walk much before that. therefore, bernard fat. so fat, that he can barely walk.

you both fall in love instantly.

with your help-- but especially with his new friends in slayer and sugar-- bernard starts to come out of his shell. his half block walks before he collapses turn into a full lap around the neighborhood in no time; he absolutely loves peeing right on top of where his big sisters just went.

and as he starts getting healthier, his bad mood starts to vanish, and you and sevika are both shocked to find that bernard is a lapdog.

he was too heavy to jump before, but now that he can, any time either of you are sitting, bernard's not far behind.

so, of course, when bernard's healthy enough to adopt out to a family, you and sevika become heartbroken at the idea of saying goodbye to your little old man.

you adopt him.

the next dog you get is a puppy, a sweet baby mutt who was the only surviving member of her litter-- found in the dumpster behind an italian restaurant.

you name her s'ketti, short for spaghetti, and on the first night of her staying in your home, sevika turns to you in bed and nudges you.

"y'know we're not getting rid of this dog right?" she asks.

you giggle. s'ketti's made herself comfortable right between you and sevika, and she's snoring the most precious little snorts as she sleeps peacefully for the first time in her life. "we don't even know what her breed is, sev. she could end up being a hundred pounds."

"you didn't answer my question."

"...obviously we're not getting rid of her."

you decide that maybe a cat will be easier to foster. you and sevika are both dog people-- maybe having a cat it'll be easier saying goodbye.

but then you meet pinecone-- a skinny street cat who you both get to love on and fatten up-- a sweet baby who opens up to you and sevika and the dogs so kindly and patiently-- a cat who will yowl until you put her on a leash and take her on walks with the dogs-- and how can you not fall in love?

"we can't go back to that shelter asking to foster ever again, they're gonna laugh us out of the place." you sigh one night as you cuddle into bed besides sevika. you've had to upgrade to a king mattress to make more room for your clingy fur-babies.

"but... we can go back asking to adopt right?" sevika asks as she shoves sugar out of her spot in bed.

"we do not need another animal!" you giggle as you gently nudge gnocchi and slayer off your pillow.

"i feel like pinecone needs a cat friend, y'know?" sevika asks. you cackle.

"pinecone's fine! look at her." you nod to the foot of the bed where pinecone's licking a snoring bernard's tummy.

"okay... i feel like i need another cat friend, then." sevika sighs.

you just cackle and pull your wife in for cuddles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom

[unluckilyimnot]

wait ok what if there was one with “I’m still into you”, blue lock but the reader liked the guy when they used to go to school together and late they run into each other when they’re older and reconnect? Like he’s not a famous soccer/football player? Idk if that’s hard or confusing. For characters maybe at least rin and isagi?

15 “i’m still into you” with rin, isagi

m.list | rules | from this

note: hii thank you sm <3 it was just fine don’t worry, I hope you liked it ! Please be sure to mention the characters you want, it’s not like what I usually do

At first, you thought your eyes were playing a trick on you when you saw his tall and lean figure waiting when you entered your favorite coffee shop. Rin wasn't supposed to be in town anymore, he left after high school to study abroad and yet everything in the posture reminded you of him.

You couldn't help but tap the man's shoulder, it was just disturbing to see someone looking like him, in your two favorite coffee shops after all those years. So you weren't exactly surprised to catch his teal eyes at first looking down on you, instead a huge smile lit up your face.

“Rin, you're back in town !” your voice was loud since you couldn't contain your enthusiasm. “You should've texted me !”

“I didn't know how…” He confessed, now looking away with a small blush on his cheeks. Old habits die hard so maybe he secretly hoped to see you there again one day.

His name was called for him to get his very needed coffee and before he left your side, you told him to wait for you. You wanted to stay inside but since he took his to take out, you'll do the same. You were dying to know how it was, his study abroad.

It was still a bit cold for April but since it was to catch up with him, it suddenly seemed alright. He was still kinda reserved, even more after all those years, but you were happy to see that it didn't change your friendship – or him.

You used to have a huge crush on him back in high school, but never mentioned it to him. He wasn't the type to bother with friends so being around him was enough. University has been hard for both of you it seems, but you never really moved on from him sadly.

You felt kinda nostalgic at the feeling. You've never counted how many times you two meet up for a coffee then walk around the streets like this. You used to cherish this moment with him a lot so it felt weird to be back to it, almost five years later.

“It's good to go back to some olds habits, no ?” You suddenly asked, trying to fill the silence. “I used to think of those times together as dates, you know.” You joked but deep down knew it was true. It made you crack a resigned smile.

“Even after all those years, I think I'm still into you,” you mumble since he didn't answer anything. You thought it was stupid not that you've said it – he just got back, it was certainly too much for him.

And there was a heavy silence again. Neither of you looked at each other, well at least you didn't ; missing the way his eyes widened at your words.

“I've missed you, back there,” he confessed, stopping in his tracks but you couldn’t believe he just said that. It felt unreal and it was like a cat got your tongue for a second ; you had no idea how to answer.

“Can I take a sip ?” he asked, tilting his head at your coffee after making his way to your side. You just nodded, tossing it to him and waiting for his reaction. Without any surprises, it was too sweet for him but his disgusted face made you laugh.

Maybe you didn’t answer it after all. Maybe it was just a way to tell you that he used to like you as well, and that with time, you two might get even closer than before.

Isagi never expected to see you there but it seemed like neither did you. He almost didn’t recognize you, your hair was way longer and now you’ve got glasses – but that wasn’t so surprising since he hasn’t seen you since high school. It looks like both of you had the same address when it comes to choosing where to buy your new books. It was funny running into you here, he doesn’t remember you as a big fan of literature yet you now got one of his favorite books in hand.

“It’s been a while ! Are you free for, I don’t know, a drink ? A coffee ? You know, to catch up…” he hesitated a little, maybe you didn’t even want to talk with him but now we're kinda forced to. Yet a big smile appeared on your face as you nodded and Isagi suddenly remembered why he was obsessed with you during your last year.

He never really was popular, even if he was in the football team, yet you were always down to do projects with him, always saying that you two work well together. That’s probably where his crush started, and because you had the most beautiful smile he ever saw.

“You’re a teacher ?! No way !” He almost yelled while sitting at the front of a café, with a hot chocolate despite the hot weather of september. You giggled at his reaction.

“Yes, I’m teaching English, that’s why I’m reading this.” You showed him the book again and he nodded happily, ready to add something before you speak. “I remember it being one of your favorite books so I thought it was good to use it in class. I’ll use it for the next semester.” you explained and if you looked up a second earlier, you would’ve caught the blush on his cheeks.

“I never thought you’ll remember that…” he answered shyly, scratching his cheek and he thought to himself that it was bad.

His heart was racing in his ribcage even if it’s been years. He couldn’t tell if it was his old feelings coming back like a racing car or if he just found you pretty, and that fate was on his side to let him run into you again.

“What are you talking about ! I loved listening to you back in the day, it fed my fantasies ; my friends were tired of hearing about you,” you said it to sound like a joke, but to him it was shocking news.

You used to like him back ? He looked at you with shocked eyes, a million things going on in his little brain it made you worried. As you asked if he was ok, you seemed scared you'd said too much but instead he composed himself quickly, looking away from you.

“Sorry Isagi, it's just weird said like that,” it was your turn to act all awkward, you never expected him to react like this. You assumed he would laugh, to be honest.

“No I– it's weird too, but I think I'm still into you” He said with a blush but his eyes were looking at you with a confidence you rarely saw in him. “So maybe we can start again…?”

Let's be honest, he looked way too cute to say no.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Power (Vox x reader) 18+

Vox x Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ Porn without plot, Power dynamics, Secretary reader, Choking on dick, Office blowjob. Summary: Vox is wound tight after his on air showdown with the newly returned Alastor. The show must go on though and you have just what he needs to get into the right headspace to move forward.

AN- A little gift for some friends because idk, I can? I'm high off attention? I don't even know anymore. Have a TV Dinner...

Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

Masterlist Kofi AO3

Your heels clicked against the polished tile floors as you approached the heavy doors of your boss’ office. The doors were intimidating to most anyone that had to approach, a sign of the power of the man inside. 

For you though, the only thing that could intimidate you was his mood though you’d never admit it. His moods shifted with the winds, endlessly volatile with a charming smile. 

He was in a foul mood tonight. Between having to clear his schedule to deal with Val’s latest bitch-fit and losing his own shit- not that he would admit to that- on a ring wide broadcast was enough to leave him sour for the day. 

Add in his little hissy fit causing a city wide power outage and having to deal with only getting a phone meeting with Carmine weapons on such short notice… he was in a state. 

The show had to go on though. Just as Val needed Vox to talk him down off the ledge, Vox needed you to bring him back to center. Technically, you were his secretary and for the most part, that was the role you filled but on occasion your tasks went above and beyond the standard secretarial duties.

But perhaps, considering the era Vox had died in, it wasn’t really so much above and beyond your job description after all.

It should have made you feel degraded. You should have raged against being put in a 1950’s stereotype of the sexy secretary. You should have pushed back against sleeping with your boss. 

But, when in Rome. 

It got you a good paycheck, a nice apartment, top quality food and the best entertainment Hell had to offer. Why pretend you were better than that when having the favor of an Overlord brought so much? Plus it got you some Earth shatteringly good sex. Or maybe Hell shatteringly was a better way to put it?

It helped that he had a sexy body and was charming, most of the time. The TV head took some getting used to though. It was cute how it digitized his expressions, broadcasting them for all to see. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had been easy to read in life as well but you’d never ask. 

You didn’t knock when you reached those heavy doors you knew so well. Instead you pulled them open without hesitation and slipped inside as if you belonged. In a way, you did.

Vox glanced over at you, eyes running up and down your figure before going back to the computer he was working at. What he did half the time, you hadn’t a clue. It was above your paygrade. 

“I’m busy, doll.” 

“And in a bad mood, too.” Your hips swayed as you walked up to his desk, unafraid.

Your skirt and blouse were tight, highlighting every asset you had. The click of your heels echoed as you drew nearer to his desk. His eyes only flickered to you as you began to circle it, running your finger tips over the smooth surface. 

You knew how this dance went. 

Rounding on him, you ran your fingers up his arm and across his tense shoulders. You were only just touching him. Fleeting glances of your fingertips teased him, making sure he knew exactly where you were and doing little else. 

“I don’t have time,” He shuddered a bit at your touch, turning to face you, “Expecting a call.”

“Not even enough time for a kiss?” You asked, using the slight opening he created between his lean torso and the hard desk to slip into his lap. Your hip banged against the edge of the desk in the process causing you to swallow a yelp. 

“Doll,” Vox signed before screwing his face up, demanding to be in charge. 

It was just another part of the game between the two of you. The power games between the two of you were what drove you to indulge is touches more often than not. It was intoxicating, having a man such as Vox bend to your touch. 

You slipped a claw tipped finger under his collar, scraping his dark blue neck as you worked it under the bowtie and pulled him to you. 

“Kiss me,” You demanded rather than asked, just how you knew he craved. 

“Baby,” Vox crumbled but you knew he would. Sure, he would bend you over, put you in your place but Vox craved having someone to serve in ways you were not sure he even was fully aware of. 

His kiss was greedy, just like he was. 

Kissing his screen face was never not weird when you thought about it for too long, but it wasn’t unpleasant. His plasma tongue sent sparks through you as as it dipped into your mouth, demanding you submit to his thin lips. He was never a slow kisser, always greedy for more and trying to take it by force. 

It was his greed that gave you power over your boss, limited though it was. 

The ringing of a call sounded through his speakers, shattering your kiss. Having his face ring was never not awkward. It was one thing when a man’s phone would ring on his desk or in his pocket but when his face was his phone? That was a whole different level of weird. 

“Gotta take this,” He sounded less sure as you shifted on his lap, feeling the hardness in his pants. 

You had hardly kissed and yet he was stiff. It didn’t surprise you in the slightest. He knew why you were sent in and you knew that. Just some more steps to the ever so addicting dance. 

“Take the call,” You said as you slipped off his lap, melting to your knees under his desk. “You don’t want to miss a chance to make a deal?” 

“What are you-?” Vox choked on his question as you palmed his crotch. 

“Take your call,” You demanded, “And if you make this deal, I’ll make you see Heaven’s Gate. Be a good boy and get your deal in motion.” 

“Fuck, Doll.” Vox tossed his call to the computer in front of him and answered, all business. 

As he began to speak as you scoot back under his desk, letting the darkness shroud you. He kept his chair leaned back, eyes on you as he ironed out details and specifics, voice full of confidence. You didn’t listen, instead deciding to put on a little show just for him. 

Fingers worked free one button after another on your blouse, slowly exposing the deep blue bra you wore. Not lace, no- you wore slick silk. Smooth, clean lines cupping your breasts and ensuring they looked their best. 

Vox was a modern man with modern tastes, even if he liked a classic scandalous preoccupation with his secretary. You tailored your undergarments to match. 

As you ran your hands over your chest and down your body his eyes followed every twitch of your fingertips. He watched you as you hiked your skirt up, bunching the clingy fabric around your hips as you showed him the matching panties, center between your legs visibly darker even in the shadows you sat in. Smooth fabric made running your hands over your moist covered slit easy. 

Vox’s cock strained against his pants as he watched you, now fully engorged. His voice never wavered though, as he did his job like the master he was. No one would ever know how distracted he was except you. 

The call was quick, over after a few minutes with a promise to send a write up of the proposal. Now it was your time to act. If you didn’t, he would take control and you didn’t want that. Right now, what you wanted was to make him mush in your hands. 

And you would. 

You climbed up on your knees, resting your head against his thigh for a moment as he carded his dangerous claws through your hair. For a moment, you indulged in the soft affection. It was the moments of soft affection, complements dished out casually that risked making you think for even a moment that this was more than just a arrangement. 

You could feel the heat of his cock, still contained but straining for freedom just in front of your face, reminding you why you were there. Reaching up, you palmed him again, feeling how much harder he was as you ran your lips along the length of his still cloth covered member. 

“Fuck, Doll, were you trying to set me up for failure?” Vox’s voice warbled out for a moment, wavering with his excitement. 

“Do you fail at anything?” You teased, leaning back to look at him as you ran your hands up and down his spread thighs, each pass taking you closer to his cock, teasing him with how you had withdrawn your touch. 

“No,” Vox said firmly, smile growing on his screen as he looked down at you fondly. 

You laughed at his arrogance, trying to put a lid on any feelings the look on his face could stir up. It was better to focus on his confidence. It was one of the traits you found so attractive about him. 

“I did promise you a reward, didn’t I?” Your fingers worked his belt open and slowly pulling the zipper of his pants down. 

You didn’t waste time in pulling him from his pants, fingers eager to wrap around his length. Just as you didn’t need to knock on his office door and wait for permission, you had blanket access to him as well. The knowledge that he wouldn’t deny you made you feel all sorts of ways. 

“Get up here,” Vox tried to demand but it sounded more like a plea.

Just how you liked it. This was what you did to such a powerful man. While you were physically on your knees for him, you he was the one who was really on the ground. 

Instead of back talking, you simply ran your tongue up the underside of his dark blue cock, taking in the salty taste of his skin. The veins were prominent and glowed ever so slightly a blue light, hardly noticeable if not for the darkness under his desk. You wouldn’t have ever considered a penis to be pretty before but Vox’s changed that. 

He had a penis that was, frankly, pretty though if you had told him that you could imagine the scoff easily. It made you crave it, crave having the weight of it in your mouth. The sight of it alone made your mouth water.

Dark blue, light glow and dusty pink at the tip. What a treat he made. You needed him in your mouth. 

He groaned as you wrapped your lips around his tip, wasting no time. Legs stretched out around you as he leaned further back in his chair. A gasping breath shuttered through him as you set to work. 

You ran your tongue over the tip, sucking softly as you looked at him. His screen was pointed down at you, eyes blazing into you. Pink tinted the blue background of his screen, seeping in from the edges, just as pink dusted the tip of his cock.

Did he know that he matched? It didn’t matter, with your mouth full you couldn’t tell him anyway. 

What mattered was the sounds falling from his mouth as you worked more of him into your mouth painfully slowly. Wrapping your fingers around his shaft, you stroked what you hadn’t taken in yet. 

It would be a matter of time before Vox got another call or someone came knocking on the office door. That was part of the excitement though. Claw tipped fingers curled, fisting in your hair as you sucked more of him into your mouth leisurely. 

You were going too fast for him, you knew that but you couldn’t help it. His strong thighs twitched and flexed under your hands as more of him disappeared into your mouth. Down you sank, one slow inch at a time until he hit the back of your throat. 

Slowly you pulled back, dancing your tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock while you did so. 

“Don’t tease me, Doll.” His fist tightened, pulling captured hair roughly in the process. 

The moan that poured up your throat and washed over his cock had him twitching on your tongue as you sank back down, pushing him as deep as you could in your current position only to slowly pull back once again.

He hated it when you teased him like this. It drove him insane. He would never admit it but you knew, he loved it. 

“Faster.” He demanded as you looked up at him, breasts moving with every deep breath you took as you licked and sucked the head of his cock as if it was a piece of candy. 

With the hand at the back of your head, he put pressure on your head in an attempt to guide you back down his shaft. That wouldn’t do.

Pulling back, you let his head fall from your lips with a pop. The pressure on you head wasn’t something you could overpower and so, you didn’t fight it after letting him free. He was unprepared as he shoved your face into his crotch. 

“Please, babydoll-”

You smiled at his words, kissing the base of his shaft only to work your way back up toward his tip.

“What do you want?” You spoke, lips moving against his shaft teasingly. His hips flexed, thrusting his spit slick cock against your mouth. 

“Stop teasing,” His breath was already coming labored, much to your delight. “Put that pretty little mouth of yours to work.” 

“But I am?” You blinked up at him, feigning innocence even as you slowly took his cock back into your mouth and bobbed on it twice. 

“Faster.” He demanded, voice not quite giving his demand the power to force you to comply. 

Again, you let it free with a pop in order to speak, “I don’t know, you didn’t make the deal.” 

“But I will,” He promised, voice straining as you stroked his chock casually. “I’ll make the deal.” 

You loved it when he got like this. Pleading. “I don’t know if that’s good enough,” Pausing, you licked and kissed his pink tinted head as you let him sit on the thought a moment longer. “You know, they had to pull me out of a meeting to come to you. That’s so inconvenient…” 

“Please,” You smiled at his word, rubbing your thighs together as he looked down at you, “Please, I’ve been good, I- Fuck.” 

You sant down his cock, raising up on your knees carefully to avoid banging your head on the solid desk above you as you adjusted your position. One deep breath and you sank lower, lower and he slipped into your throat. 

“Fuck,” He whispered as you sank as far down as you could. 

Never could you have taken all of him into your throat but you tried. For the sounds he made, you always tried. Reaching into his pants, you pulled his balls free. Rolling them in your hand, you backed up again.

“No, baby-” Vox whimpered as you kissed his head again. “Please,” 

Reaching down your body, you ran your fingers over your silk covered slit as you sank down again. Faster and faster, you bobbed along his length. The sounds he made drove you on. 

“Please,” He repeated the word and your name as he grew more desperate.

It was music to your ears. This is how you liked him, powerful and folding to you. You could taste his power on your tongue, static electricity dancing over his skin as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth again and again. 

You spread you knees, slipping your hand under the waistband of your silk panties, stuck tightly to your skin by your fluids. His pleasure was your goal. His pleasure was your job but you were not above indulging in your own as you moaned around him. 

He begged as he watched your hand pleasure yourself under the shiny blue silk. You clenched around your fingers as you dipped inside, feeling just how excited you were to be partially undressed and on your knees in Vox’s office. 

You moaned around him as you ran your fingers over your clit expertly. You knew exactly how to touch yourself. 

“Please, Babydoll,” Vox’s hips thrust forward, jabbing the head of his cock so far down your throat that you gagged on him. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Now was when the dance would change. Vox could only give up power for so long. He would only be weak to you for so long. 

“I’m close,” His hand ran through your hair, pulling stands away from your face and fisting again in the back. “Doll, can I?” 

Though he asked, you both knew he wasn’t really asking. Still, you moaned in approval as the coil in your core pulled tighter and tighter. Your practiced fingers paired with his moans and the way he looked at you brought you to the edge of your own orgasm. 

As your orgasm washed over you, you moaned deeply around him. That was the last thing he needed for his cock to begin twitching. You hardly had a chance to breath as his fist at the back of your head drove your head up and down his cock. His hips matched his pace. 

You could do nothing but hold onto his thigh as you rode out your high. He used your throat to chase his high until he pushed you down hard on his cock, your nose grazing the soft skin above his cock as his cum exploded down your throat. 

He thrust lazily as he rode out his high, spilling his seed on your tongue as you struggled to swallow it down. It wasn’t an offensive taste, salty and tasting like plasma. It was your turn to be greedy as you softly sucked his tip and licked his shaft clean, not wanting to waste a drop.

When the overstimulation got to him, Vox pushed you away harshly. You fell in a heap under his desk, clothes and hair a mess but satisfied smile on your face as you looked up at his blue screen.

You couldn’t read it from where you sat but you knew what those little white words along the bottom of the screen read. 

Vox had overheated and an error message proclaimed that your mouth was too good while he sat still, chest rising and falling in deep breaths you never understood how he took in that state, without a mouth on the screen. 

You may not have territory or the power to take lives. You may not be independently wealthy but you were far from powerless. 

You had the power to short circuit the reigning king of the technological sector of Pentagram City. 

[selfloverrrrrr]

Hihi idk if your requests are open but I had this idea for a fic where nanami rapes gojos wife/gf!! 😚💜tyy

I want you

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, jealous Gojo ....

Summary: Nanami is obsessed with Gojo's wife...so he's gonna have it anyway...

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Me and Gojo was married for almost three years and Nanami Kento had always had a thing for Gojo's wife, and he couldn't resist the temptation anymore. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. He had been watching me from afar for weeks.

One day, he saw me alone in their home, and he knew it was the perfect opportunity. He quietly snuck into the house and found me in the bedroom. I was lying on the bed, wearing nothing but a thin nightgown that barely covered my body.

Kento approached me slowly, his heart racing with excitement. I suddenly woke up at the sound of him walking. When I saw it was him I was so shoked....why was he here at this time....? He could see the fear in my eyes as I realized what was happening. But he was too strong for me to resist and I knew that. I got up from the bed and was about to run away but He grabbed me and threw me onto the bed, his rough hands ripping off my nightgown. My eyes were wide open.

Took off his shirt and threw it on the floor. I couldn't even proses what was happening. I tried to push myself backwards but he grabbed my hips and pinned me down. I gasped. He again crashed his lips on mine.

Kento pinned me down, his heavy body pressing her into the mattress. He reached down and pulled off his shorts, revealing his thick cock. He positioned himself between legs and thrust inside of me, moaning with pleasure as he felt my warm pussy envelope him.

I scremed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. As Kento began to move, he could see the fear and pain in my eyes. But he didn't care. He was too consumed by his own desires to stop now. He pounded into me, his cock deep inside my pussy, his balls slapping against my ass with each thrust. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was liking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside... please please.... please Nanami I'm begging you" I moaned. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Shhh.... Don't.... don't say that.... you were meant to be mine....don't say anything like that ever again" He whispered in my ear. I couldn't even believe what was happening to me. How could Nanami do this to me. Weren't we good friends??? The guy always kept silent, so gentle is doing most devilish thing with me??!! Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.

He gently lifted my chin, his thumb wiping away the tears as he spoke softly, "You are mine now, Y/n". You will never leave me." His words were laced with a menacing undertone, and he leaned in to whisper, "I will always find you. You will never be free from me." He pulled out a small, silver key from his pocket, examining it carefully.

My eyes widened in horror as he held up the key, a cruel smile spreading across his face. He gestured to the handcuffs that had been quietly secured to the headboard during the tumultuous lovemaking session, the intricate mechanisms clicking softly. "This little beauty,"

He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against my skin as he leaned in closer. "Then you will be my prisoner, my love. Mine to do with as I please." His words were punctuated by the sound of handcuffs clicking shut, the cold metal biting into my wrists as he took me out of the house.

As Nanami left the house with carrying me , Gojo returned, his mind filled with thoughts of spending time with me. The sight of the empty house only fueled his obsession further, and he quickly set about tracking down me. "Who the fuck came here and took her!!!!!" Gojo screamed but there was noone to reply him.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💗