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writingouthere · 1 year ago

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singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party

cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me

"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."

"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"

"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."

Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.

"Fuck this shit."

"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.

If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.

Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.

He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.

Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.

Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.

Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.

Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.

"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."

"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."

Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.

What had become of him?

"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.

"God, I want a baby."

Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.

"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."

Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.

"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."

You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.

"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."

"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."

"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"

"Hideous."

You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."

Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.

It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.

The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.

"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"

"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.

"Do you want any?"

"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.

"Babies, do you want any?"

Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.

He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.

He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.

He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.

He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.

He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.

His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.

At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.

"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.

Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.

You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.

You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.

The slow burn is almost done folks.

thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!

edit: masterlist is up!

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x singlemomreader #sukuna ryomen smut

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p0orbaby · 5 months ago

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Practice Makes Perfect

summary: leah takes expert to the next level

warnings: SMUT 18+, strap use, humiliation at it’s finest

a/n: this is all thanks to this

word count: 3.7k

Leah Williamson is bad at exactly two things in life. The first is baking, and she’s more than come to terms with that. Flour explodes around her like she’s waging war against pastry itself. Cookies flatten out like they’re trying to escape the cookie sheet, and let’s not even start on the infamous “cake” incident—a tragic day when she tried to make you a birthday cake and ended up producing something more akin to a dense, leathery pancake. She’d given up on baking after that, declaring it a “dead sport.” And you couldn’t argue with that.

The second thing Leah is bad at, however, is still very much a point of contention in her mind. She’s not ready to accept it, not now, and definitely not in front of you. But it’s like an itch in the back of her mind—a constant reminder that maybe, just maybe, she’s not perfect at everything. Leah Williamson is competitive to the point of absurdity. The woman once turned a casual game of Scrabble into a grueling war of wits that nearly resulted in the board being thrown out the window. But you’ve never really seen her so genuinely flustered about something, not until today.

You’re walking into the house, juggling your keys, a shopping bag, and your phone all at once. You were out for a few hours, nothing serious, just a casual hangout with friends, and you expected to come back to Leah lounging on the sofa, maybe scrolling through Instagram or pretending to read one of the books you recommended. But when you step inside, you’re immediately struck by the sound of muffled moaning coming from the bedroom. Your first thought is that Leah’s having a little “me-time,” which is totally normal and expected. She’s not exactly shy about taking care of her own needs, and honestly, you find it kind of hot. So you’re not really concerned, but you are curious.

You creep towards the bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible, but when you reach the door, you can’t help yourself—you push it open just a crack. What you see almost makes you drop everything in your hands.

Leah is in the middle of the room, her back to you, one foot planted on the bed, and she’s wearing a strap-on harness. Your strap-on harness, to be specific. And she’s going at it like she’s auditioning for some kind of adult movie. But here’s the kicker: she’s not actually with anyone. No, Leah is thrusting wildly at the air, the strap bouncing around like it’s got a mind of its own, while some questionable porn plays on her phone, propped up against the mirror.

The scene is bonkers enough on its own, but what really gets you is the look on Leah’s face. It’s the same look she has when she’s watching match footage, analysing every detail, trying to figure out how to improve her game. Her eyes are locked on her reflection in the mirror, her brow furrowed in concentration.

For a moment, you’re not sure what to do. You could walk away, pretend you never saw this, and let her have her… practice session in peace. Or, and this seems like the much more entertaining option, you could let her know you’re there. Before you can even decide, though, Leah spots your reflection in the mirror.

She yelps—a noise so high-pitched and undignified that you almost feel bad for her—and stumbles back, trying to yank the strap off like it’s suddenly caught fire. But the harness is tricky, and she fumbles with it, hands slipping on the straps, all the while staring at you with wide eyes, as if you’ve just caught her committing a felony. The strap, bright neon pink, is still hanging between her legs as she wrestles with the buckles, and it’s bobbing with every frantic movement she makes. You can’t help it; you burst out laughing.

Leah finally manages to rip the thing off and tosses it onto the bed with the air of someone throwing a live grenade. It bounces once, then lands with an almost comical plop, still vibrating, because of course, she didn’t think to turn it off. She’s standing there now, breathing heavily, her face as red as a tomato, and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen her look more embarrassed in her entire life.

“Babe, what the actual fuck?” she hisses, crossing her arms over her chest like she’s trying to shield herself from the sheer humiliation of the situation.

“What the actual fuck, indeed,” you manage to choke out between laughs, leaning against the doorframe for support. “Were you… practicing?”

Leah’s face goes from red to practically purple as she glares at you, the kind of glare she usually reserves for referees after a bad call. “I was just—just getting the hang of it. No one tells you how weird it feels, okay?”

“Sure, sure. Because thrusting along to porn with a strap is totally normal Saturday afternoon behaviour,” you say, still grinning like an idiot.

“Don’t mock me!” she snaps, but there’s no real heat in her voice. She’s more mortified than anything else, and you can see the way her shoulders are hunching slightly, like she’s trying to make herself smaller. Leah Williamson, trying to make herself smaller—now that’s a sight.

You step fully into the room, setting your things down on the dresser, and take a moment to survey the situation. Leah’s still standing there, arms crossed, looking like she’s either going to bolt for the door or try to strangle you with the harness. The porn is still playing on her phone, some generic, overly enthusiastic moaning that’s only adding to the madness of it all. You reach over and pause it, the silence that follows somehow even funnier.

“So,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “what exactly were you practicing for?”

Leah groans and flops down on the bed, burying her face in a pillow. “This is mortifying”

“Oh, it’s mortifying for you?” you tease, sitting down next to her. “I’m the one who just walked in on my girlfriend fake-fucking the air while watching some questionable porn”

She mutters something into the pillow, but it’s muffled beyond recognition. You can only assume it’s something along the lines of “please let me die now”

Gently, you tug the pillow away from her face, and she gives you a look that’s somewhere between a pout and a glare. “I just… I wanted to make sure I wasn’t terrible at it,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder might make it more real.

“Terrible at what?” you ask, genuinely curious now. Leah’s not the kind of person who doubts herself, at least not openly.

“You know,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward the strap that’s still vibrating away on the bed, making a low buzzing sound like an angry wasp. “Using that”

It takes you a second to realise what she means, and when you do, you have to bite back another laugh. “Wait, are you telling me this is the first time you’ve ever put one on?”

Leah’s face is back to that deep crimson, and she nods, not quite meeting your eyes. “You’re the one who usually wears it, so… yeah”

The mental image of Leah wrestling with the harness like it’s some kind of alien technology is almost too much. “So you decided to give it a test run… by yourself?”

“I wanted to get used to it!” she protests, and there’s that competitive edge creeping back into her voice. “It’s not as easy as it looks, alright? It’s—heavy, and it moves around a lot, and it feels weird, and I didn’t want to—I didn’t want to look stupid when we actually… you know”

You can’t help but be a little touched by how much thought she’s put into this. Leah, for all her bravado on the pitch, clearly cares about this, about not screwing it up. But the image of her trying to get the hang of it by practicing on thin air is still hilarious.

“Leah, babe,” you say, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, “I promise you, there’s no way you could look stupid. Even if you were, I don’t know, flailing around like a fish out of water, I’d still find it hot”

“Flailing?” she echoes, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Not flailing. More like… enthusiastically manoeuvring”

“Very funny,” she says, but the corners of her mouth are twitching, and you know you’re winning her over.

“And honestly,” you continue, “the fact that you’re trying so hard is kind of adorable”

“Adorable,” she repeats, deadpan.

“In a sexy way,” you clarify, though you’re pretty sure you’ve lost her at “adorable.” “But seriously, Leah, you don’t need to stress about this. You’re not going to be bad at it”

She sits up a little, looking at you with those piercing blue eyes that are always so full of determination. “I just don’t want to mess it up. I want to be good for you”

The sincerity in her voice makes your heart squeeze. Leah’s not just competitive; she’s fiercely devoted, especially when it comes to you. She doesn’t want to just be good—she wants to be perfect.

You reach over and take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re already good for me, Leah. And I’m not going to judge you if you’re not a pro at this right away. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?”

Leah exhales, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders. “Yeah, I guess you’re right”

“Of course I’m right,” you say, grinning. “But just out of curiosity, how long have you been at it? The practicing, I mean”

She bites her lip, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. “Uh, maybe… two hours?”

“Two hours?” you repeat, eyes widening. “Leah, you could’ve just asked me for help! We could’ve practiced together”

Leah looks at you like you’ve just suggested something outrageous. “Practice together? With you watching me?”

“Why not? We’re a team, right?” You give her a playful nudge. “I could’ve given you some pointers. Saved you a lot of time, too”

She looks like she’s about to argue, but then she laughs, the sound a little embarrassed but mostly relieved. “Alright, fine. Next time, I’ll ask for help”

“Next time?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Planning to make this a regular thing, are we?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her lips. “Maybe. Depends on how well I’ve learned my lesson today”

You grin, leaning in to kiss her properly this time, and she melts into it, the last of her embarrassment fading away. When you pull back, you can’t resist one last jab.

“Though you might want to work on the thrusting a bit more. Maybe start with something less intense. Like a pillow, perhaps?”

Leah groans, burying her face in your neck to hide her blush. “God, you’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you say, laughing as you hold her close. “But hey, at least you didn’t pull a muscle. That would’ve been really hard to explain to the team”

“Don’t even joke about that,” she mumbles against your skin, but you can feel her smiling.

It’s a few days later, and the whole incident has officially passed into the realm of light-hearted teasing. Leah’s embarrassment has died down, and she’s mostly back to her usual confident self. You’ve mentioned it a few times, of course, because how could you not? But every time you do, she just rolls her eyes and smirks like she knows something you don’t, which is both intriguing and slightly unnerving.

Tonight, though, there’s a different kind of energy between you. You’re in bed, the two of you tangled together under the sheets, lips locked in a kiss that’s growing more heated by the second. Leah’s hands are everywhere—on your waist, your hips, sliding up under your shirt to trace the curve of your back. There’s a kind of urgency in the way she’s touching you, like she can’t get enough, like she’s been holding back and now she’s ready to let go.

You’re straddling her lap, your fingers in her hair, tugging slightly as her mouth moves down to your neck. Her kisses are hot and insistent, and each one sends a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You feel her hands slide down to your ass, squeezing just enough to make you gasp, and she takes that opportunity to flip you over onto your back, pinning you beneath her.

Her eyes are dark with lust, and when she looks at you like that, all your teasing from earlier feels like a distant memory. You’re breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as Leah leans down to kiss you again, her tongue slipping into your mouth with a skill that always leaves you wanting more. You moan into the kiss, your legs wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer, needing to feel her against you.

Leah’s hands trail down your sides, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. She breaks the kiss just long enough to pull them off, and you lift your hips to help her, the cool air hitting your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. She’s quick to follow, kicking off her own clothes until the both of you are bare, skin pressed against skin, the heat between you palpable.

She pulls back just a little, her eyes roaming over your body, drinking you in like she’s savoring every inch. “God, you’re beautiful,” she murmurs, and the way she says it makes your cheeks flush with warmth.

“Look who’s talking,” you say, your voice breathy as you reach up to run your hands down her toned arms, feeling the muscle beneath her skin. “You’re so fucking hot, baby”

She grins, and there’s that confident, almost cocky look on her face that tells you she knows exactly how she makes you feel. But then, something shifts in her expression, and she hesitates, just for a second, before she leans down close to your ear, her voice low and a little rough. “I want to use the strap”

Your breath catches in your throat, your body instantly responding to the suggestion. You’d been half-expecting it, maybe even hoping for it, but now that she’s said it out loud, your entire body is alight with anticipation. “Yeah?” you manage to say, trying to keep the eagerness out of your voice, though you know it’s a lost cause.

Leah pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, searching your face like she’s making sure you’re really on board with this. “Yeah,” she says, and there’s a determined edge to her voice, like she’s been waiting for this moment, like she’s ready to prove something—not just to you, but maybe to herself, too.

“Okay,” you breathe, your heart racing as you nod. “Yeah, I want that”

Her grin widens, and there’s something almost predatory about it, but it’s not intimidating. It’s the kind of look that makes your stomach flutter with excitement, makes your whole body hum with the promise of what’s to come. Leah’s up and off the bed in a flash, heading for the drawer where you keep the toys, and you can’t help but admire the way she moves, all grace and power, even in the dim light of the room.

You watch as she takes it out, her movements sure and steady, no sign of the fumbling you’d witnessed a few days ago. She’s learned quickly, it seems, and you can’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation as she steps into the harness, tightening the straps with practiced ease. She catches your eye as she adjusts it, and the look she gives you is pure heat, her confidence now radiating off her in waves.

When she’s ready, she climbs back onto the bed, and there’s something about the sight of her like this, wearing the strap, her eyes locked on you, that sends a rush of arousal through you so intense it almost takes your breath away. Leah positions herself between your legs, and you spread them wider, your body practically aching with need as she settles herself above you.

She leans down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, her hand sliding down your body to tease between your legs. You’re already wet, more than ready for her, and she groans softly as she feels just how turned on you are. “Fuck, you’re so ready for me,” she mutters against your lips, and the raw desire in her voice only makes you want her more.

“Please, Leah,” you whisper, your hips bucking up involuntarily as her fingers brush against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “I need you”

She doesn’t need any more encouragement. You feel the tip of the strap press against your entrance, and your breath hitches as she starts to push inside, slow and steady, giving you time to adjust to the size. She’s careful, gentle at first, but there’s an undercurrent of urgency in her movements, like she’s barely holding herself back.

“Is this okay?” she asks, her voice strained as she sinks into you, inch by inch, her eyes locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face.

“God, yes,” you gasp, your fingers digging into her shoulders as she fills you completely, the stretch intense but oh so good. “Keep going”

She groans in response, the sound low and guttural, and you can see the effort it’s taking for her to keep it slow, to keep from just pounding into you like you know she wants to. But once she’s fully inside you, once she feels you relax and adjust, she starts to move, pulling back just enough before thrusting back in, setting a pace that’s measured but firm.

The feeling is incredible, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as she starts to pick up the pace, each thrust hitting just the right spot, sending waves of hot pleasure through your entire body. Leah’s gaze never leaves yours, and there’s something almost reverent in the way she’s watching you, like she’s completely focused on your pleasure, on making this as good as it can possibly be.

“Fuck,” you pant, your hips meeting her thrusts as the pressure builds inside you, your whole body tingling with the anticipation of release. “You feel so fucking good”

The words seem to spur her on, and she adjusts her angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. You cry out, your nails raking down her back as the pleasure intensifies, and she grins, clearly pleased with herself.

“Yeah?” she murmurs, her voice low and rough as she leans down to kiss you, her tongue slipping into your mouth in time with her thrusts. “You like that?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your head falling back against the pillow as your body starts to tighten, the heat coiling in your belly, ready to snap. “Don’t stop, Leah, please, I’m so close—”

She doesn’t stop. If anything, she only goes harder, her thrusts coming faster now, deeper, pushing you right to the edge. You can feel her hand slipping down between your bodies, her fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that have you seeing stars.

It’s too much, and not enough, all at once, and you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, every muscle in your body tense as you chase that release. Leah’s name is a litany on your lips, a desperate prayer as the pleasure builds and builds until you can’t hold back any longer.

“Leah, I’m gonna—”

And then you’re coming, the orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the force of it, your vision going white as the pleasure consumes you. Leah keeps moving, thrusting through your climax, drawing it out, making it last until you’re a trembling, gasping mess beneath her.

When you finally come down, she slows her movements, easing you through the aftershocks with gentle, languid thrusts until you’re too sensitive to take any more. She pulls out slowly, carefully, and you can’t help the little whimper that escapes your lips at the loss.

Leah collapses beside you, breathless and a little sweaty, and she immediately pulls you into her arms, holding you close as you both come down from the high. For a while, the two of you just lay there, your breathing slowly returning to normal, the room filled with the quiet sounds of your afterglow.

“Holy shit,” you finally manage to say, your voice hoarse from all the moaning. “Leah, that was…”

“Good?” she supplies, a teasing smile playing on her lips, though you can see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, like she’s still looking for your approval, even now.

“Good?” you echo, incredulous. “Leah, that was fucking amazing. How are you so good at that?”

She grins, looking both smug and relieved, her confidence fully restored. “What can I say? I’m a quick learner”

“You’re more than that,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to her lips, soft and lingering, filled with all the affection you feel for her. “You’re perfect”

Leah blushes at that, actually blushes, and it’s so endearing you can’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she mutters, but she’s smiling, too, and you can see the pride in her eyes.

“Well, I would,” you say, snuggling into her side, feeling completely content, completely satisfied. “And I’m the one who gets to decide”

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, her arms tightening around you. “Fair enough,” she says, and there’s a warmth in her voice that makes your heart swell.

For a long while, you just lay there together, basking in the afterglow, the room quiet and peaceful. Eventually, though, you feel the exhaustion start to creep in, your eyelids growing heavy as you cuddle closer to Leah, letting her warmth lull you to sleep.

Just as you’re about to drift off, you hear Leah’s voice, soft and a little hesitant. “Hey,” she says, and you can feel her fingers brushing through your hair. “Thanks for, you know… being patient with me. And for letting me… practice”

You smile sleepily, nuzzling into her neck. “Anytime. Though, I don’t think you need any more practice. You’ve pretty much mastered it”

She laughs softly, the sound rumbling through her chest, and it’s the last thing you hear before you fall into a deep, satisfied sleep, safe in her arms.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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slut4thebroken · 1 year ago

Text

Daddy’s Little Girl

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Stepdad!Raymond Leon x reader

Summary | Your stepdad catches you doing something you shouldn’t be.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, very large age gap, technically incest, innocence kink, protective (controlling) Ray, grinding, pillow humping hehe, praise, degradation, spanking, punishment?, humiliation, virginity checks, daddy but not the kink?, he kind of hates everyone except you tbh.

Words | 3.7 k

Notes | Idk I feel like the end maybe got a lil ooc but I feel like it’s not enough to be out of place in the fic.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Tonight was movie night, your favorite night of the week. For the longest time, your step dad refused to do this. You’d beg and beg, and he’d stare at you with that hard, unrelenting gaze until you gave up. That was while you still called him Mr. Leon. That was before your mom skipped town, leaving you with him. You were 16 when that happened and Raymond seriously considered sending you off to some orphanage. It was only two more years anyway.

But over time, the idea started to make his stomach churn and his jaw clench in anger. That was when he started treating you like his stepdaughter, rather than some child he was stuck with. That was when you started calling him daddy.

The first time, it surprised him. Girls your age have long since grown out of calling their fathers ‘daddy’ and started calling their boyfriends that instead. But he could tell you were being genuine and not just making a move on him or trying to rile him up. It took a while, but eventually he got used to it. He even started calling you a few pet names as well. That was the first sign that he’d gone completely soft toward you.

The second was when he actually agreed to have a movie night with you… As soon as he reluctantly said yes, you practically squealed as you ran to the couch, telling him to make popcorn while you got everything ready.

You didn’t try to get closer to him that time. But the next time, you sat in the middle of the couch rather than on the side, still not touching him yet. The third time was when you tried to lean your head on his shoulder. He jerked away from you, mostly out of pure instinct, but when he saw your pouting face, he sighed heavily and let you do it anyway as he sat there, his body completely stiff.

It only progressed from there, until he finally started getting used to holding you while you snuggled into his chest. He almost… liked doing it— not that he would ever admit that though. When you were in his arms, he felt like he was protecting you, keeping you safe. From what? He didn’t know. Maybe it was just paternal instinct.

As you got older though, he got more protective. He started setting rules, most of which you were fine with. It was the little ones like bedtime by eleven on school nights or homework before fun that you didn’t like. But you followed them anyway.

The first time you brought a boy home… he almost committed a felony, to put it simply. He never came back though— thankfully— but you yelled at him for scaring him away when you were just trying to work on an assignment together. That eased his nerves, but he still didn’t regret what he did. However, that prompted him to have a talk with you. Not the talk, you weren’t ready for that yet, he decided.

He sat you down and told you about boys your age and their intentions and what they’d do to you if given the chance. He was trying to scare you, and it worked. He slept easy knowing that your nights were spent watching movies with him, rather than partying or having sex.

You put on pajamas and fuzzy socks and he wore sweatpants and a shirt. While you settled on the couch and browsed for a movie, he was busy making some popcorn for you both.

“What about this one?” You asked as he walked in and sat down next to you.

“What’s it rated?” He seemed wary.

“R… But I’ve seen R rated movies before!” He glanced at the screen, then turned back to you with a sigh.

“Fine. Just this once, you know I don’t like you watching really graphic content.” You bit back a grin and pressed play. He held the popcorn in his lap and you rested your head on his shoulder, both of your lower halves covered by the blanket.

It started out fine. There was a lot of cursing and some violence, but it wasn’t too bad. What was bad was the super graphic and super long sex scene. You shifted awkwardly and looked at your lap. Should you just watch and pretend like this isn’t weird? That’s what he’s doing…

When you folded your legs up and rested them on his thigh, he placed a warm hand just above your knee. You cleared your throat and buried your face in his chest a little.

“It’s just a sex scene.” He chuckled quietly.

“I- I know… I’m just not used to watching it s’all.” He hummed in response and started brushing his thumb back and forth on your thigh, making your shiver.

“We can watch something else.”

“No! I- I’m not a child. I can watch a… a— sex scene.” You said the last two words quietly and your cheeks heated up in embarrassment.

“I know you can, princess. I’m saying you don’t have to.” You could tell he was amused, but you were getting more and more flustered.

“Well, I- I want to.” You decided. He was fine with that. Even though he didn’t really want you watching this kind of stuff, he liked watching you blush and squirm.

The sex scene was over and you relaxed into him, focusing on the movie again. The rest of it was more violence and cursing, then it was over. When you yawned and snuggled into his chest, he brought an awkward hand up to your shoulder, trying to pull you away.

“Bed time.” You let out a low whine, but stood up anyway. “Go get ready for bed.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled sleepily. You brushed your teeth and finished your nightly routine, but as soon as you laid down, you noticed the warm feeling in your belly and the ache between your legs. You’ve felt this once or twice, but you’ve never acted on it before. You laid there, desperately trying to ignore it and just fall asleep, but it wouldn’t go away and you kept thinking about his hand on your thigh and the way he smells and how safe you feel in his arms. Letting out a quiet whine, you pressed your thighs together and squirmed a bit, trying to ease the ache. It only got worse though.

You turned on your side and squeezed your thighs together harder as your hips started moving back and forth, chasing pleasure that wasn’t there. You heard running water as he washed the dishes, so with the knowledge that he was too busy to catch you doing something inappropriate, you got up on your knees and placed a pillow between your legs.

The movement of your hips was awkward at first, but you quickly picked up a comfortable pace and continued that for a while. You felt so dirty and perverted doing this, but you couldn’t stop. Especially not when you imagined doing this on his thigh instead. Would he grab your hips to help you? Or maybe he’d lay back and watch you hump his leg like a dog.

You whimpered and closed your eyes as your head fell forward. Maybe he’d let you grind on something else… something much more R rated. The thought had you moaning quietly before you could stop yourself so you bit your lip to keep any more sounds in. You’ve only started having these thoughts about him recently and they confused you, but made you feel good, so you didn’t try to shut them down.

Your belly felt like it was tightening and filling with heat, and you started panting as you bucked your hips faster. You weren’t exactly sure what you were feeling. All you knew was that the thought of stopping made you want to cry in desperation.

“Are you all ready—” The door suddenly opened and you practically jumped away from the pillow as you stared at him with wide eyes. The feeling in your tummy was slowly leaving and you tried not to whine out loud because of it. “What were you doing?” He asked, tone a complete 180 from only a few seconds ago.

“N-nothing, I was… I was getting ready for bed.” He slowly shut the door and you swallowed audibly as you waited for what was next.

“You were getting ready for bed with your pillow down there?” He asked, obviously not believing you. You bit your lip as you nodded, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes and he stalked closer. You held your breath as he neared the bed, but when he reached for the pillow, you were too slow to try and grab it first. He held it up to his face and inhaled deeply, making your cheeks heat up as you squirmed uncomfortably.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to watch that movie. You get these ideas in your head and soon enough your whoring yourself around for every guy in this fucking city.”

“No! No, I- I wouldn’t…” You didn’t want to whine, but his words were embarrassing you. He set the pillow down then sat next to it with a heavy sigh. You watched him pinch the bridge of his nose and close his eyes.

“I guess this is my fault… I should’ve talked with you a long time ago, I was just scared.” Your brows furrowed in confusion and you schooched closer to him.

“Scared?”

“Of losing my little girl. But clearly I need to accept the fact that you’re a young woman now. You can’t be my little girl forever.” You’ve never heard him sound so sad.

“Yes I can.” You frowned.

“Princess… You’re already 18. I don’t think that’s possible.” He chuckled dryly.

“But… I- I want to be your little girl.” Your frown deepened and your eyes started to burn with tears. “Forever, daddy.” You whined.

“I know, baby. But that’s what happens, you have to grow up, no matter how much you don’t want to.” You were getting even more confused and upset. What does this mean? Will there not be anymore movie nights? Will he not make you hot chocolate or read to you or tuck you in before bed? “And now’s the time. You’re already getting curious about big girl things.”

“No! I- I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, daddy— I promise. I’ll do anything, just— please…” You cried, giving him puppy dog eyes as your bottom lip wobbled.

“You want to stay my little girl?” He asked quietly, bringing a hand up to brush your hair out of your face.

“Please.” You whined and he nodded.

“You have two choices; you can be a big girl and I’ll teach you whatever you need to know to be safe, or… you can be my little girl, but you’ll need to be punished for your behavior.”

“The second.” You didn’t even hesitate.

“Okay, baby. Over my lap.” When you started moving to lay on his lap, he stopped you. “Other way.” You obeyed and laid across his thighs, pushing the pillow away so you could be comfortable.

“No no no, princess.” He chuckled quietly. “That’s part of the punishment. You’re going to keep your face in your mess as a constant reminder of why you’re being punished right now.” With a low whine, you pulled the pillow back toward you, but kept your head above it. You could see now that there was a tiny damp spot on the fabric, only furthering your embarrassment.

“Mmph!” Was the only noise you could get out when he placed a firm hand on the back of your head and shoved you down. You jumped when you felt his warm hand on the back of your thigh, slowly moving up. He teased the bottom of your sleep shorts before going back down on the other leg. “This is what you want? To be daddy’s little girl?”

“Yes!” You cried, but it was muffled because of him still holding you down.

“Fine.” He roughly pulled your shorts down to your thighs, making you whine and squirm in this hold. “At least you’re not completely gone yet…” He murmured, running a hand over your plain cotton panties. “Ready?” He didn’t let your reply before landing a hard smack on your ass, making you cry out. He did the same to the other cheek, then grabbed your underwear and pulled them up to expose more skin.

You moaned quietly when he rubbed a soothing hand over your already sore ass. It felt huge. Sure you’ve noticed his hands once or twice, but it felt like he could grab your entire ass cheek and more with just one hand.

He hit you again, but this time he didn’t stop until you were crying and reaching back to push him away. He released your head and twisted your arms behind your back painfully, keeping you still. With your head now free, you tried protesting verbally.

“It hurts, daddy.” You whined.

“Yeah? Keep your face in that pillow or I’ll use my belt and it’ll hurt a whole lot more.” He warned, making your breath catch in your throat. You didn’t want to find out if he was bluffing or not, so you lowered your head back down, trying not to get too embarrassed by the smell of your own arousal.

He started spanking you again, lighter this time, but after doing it over and over, the light smacks started to hurt. You cried and squirmed and kicked your feet, trying to get a break.

“I know…” He cooed, finally stopping to roughly rub and grope your ass, making you wince. “You can take it though.” You shook your head as a quiet sob left you. Your tears haven’t fallen yet, but you knew they were about to.

“Please— Please… I'm sorry for being bad, daddy.” You whimpered, turning your head to try and see him. He just shushed you and continued playing with your ass for a while. When he got bored of that, he was spanking you again. He only did a few this time, but he hit you so hard… you could barely take it. You were crying now and your struggling picked up until one of your legs slid off his thigh. You held it up by your foot on the ground, but when you tried to raise it again, he placed a firm hand on that thigh to keep it in place. So you relaxed into the new position as he snaked his hand up.

He cursed under his breath, then moved his hand to pull your panties up even further, making the outline of your cunt more pronounced. His thumb brushed over your slit, but it didn’t go anywhere near where it actually ached.

“Now, why would my little girl be so wet during a punishment?” He asked innocently, as if his words had a less crude meaning.

“I- I’m sorry, daddy… Can’t help it.” You whined, squirming again to try and get some kind of pressure on your clit. You couldn't help the moan that escaped when he pulled your panties to the side, then ran a finger through your slit.

“Clearly you’re growing up just a little bit, but I think we can come to a fair compromise.” You waited anxiously for his proposal. “You can still be my little girl, but we’ll have some adult playtime too.” You were nodding before he even finished. “That means you can only be with daddy. Only big girls do that kind of stuff with other boys.”

“Only you.” You promised.

“Since I know how insatiable you're getting though, I’ll have to do checks every week, maybe more, to make sure you’re still my little girl.”

“Checks?” You asked quietly, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Would you like me to do one now to show you?” You agreed hesitantly and he raised his leg that was under your hips to arch your back a little. When he released your arms, you immediately brought them back up to a more comfortable position.

He placed both hands on your thighs, just below your ass, and used his thumbs to pull you open even more, exposing you. You tried not to get embarrassed or nervous, but no one’s ever seen down there before. What if he thinks it’s ugly? What if it has a weird smell? Your thoughts were interrupted by him circling your hole with one finger.

“Ready?” He asked, but barely dipping the tip in your entrance to tease you.

“Y-yes.” You said through a breath. He slowly pushed his finger in and you fisted the sheets as your head dropped down— you didn’t even care about your scent on the pillow anymore. His finger was so thick and long, and you mewled quietly at the feeling. He curled it against your walls and you let out a choked moan at the new feeling. “What… What are you checking for?” You whispered, unable to speak any louder.

“Your hymen. That’s something only little girls have. Once it’s gone, that makes you a big girl.” He explained, continuing to move his finger inside you at a torturously slow pace.

“Daddy…” You whined breathily. The only response you got was a quiet hum, telling you to finish what you were wanting to say. “Feels good..” He suddenly pulled his finger out, forcing a strangled sob out of you. “No— please! Please keep going.” You cried as he wiped his finger on your ass to clean it off.

“Shh. While I’m here, I might as well do a full check. Lay down.” He pulled your shorts all the way off, then you moved to the center of the bed and laid down on your back as he settled between your legs. His thumbs were pulling you apart again, but this time his finger went above your hole. Your breath hitched and your eyes fluttered closed as your hips rocked, trying to get more friction. When he brushed a finger over your clit, you jolted and released a loud moan.

“This is only for daddy to touch, do you understand? No boys, no hands, no pillows.” You nodded as you panted and bucked your hips again.

“Only for daddy.” You mumbled almost incoherently. He continued brushing over your clit with feather light touches, but the feeling in your belly was getting more and more intense. “Please…” You whined, squirming even more.

“Do you even know what you’re begging for, little girl?” You shook your head as your hips started moving more frantically now, like how they were when you were on the pillow.

“Please, daddy.” You moaned, the feeling in your tummy growing tighter. He suddenly removed his finger again and you cried out loudly, all but throwing a tantrum in response. “Please! Please don’t stop..” You sobbed. “It hurts, daddy… please make it go away.” Your voice was a pathetic whimper, but you ignored the embarrassment, focusing on giving him puppy dog eyes and a pout instead.

“No.” You let out a long bratty whine, making him bring his hand down on your clit with a loud smack. He didn’t hit too hard, but it was hard enough to make you choke on a gasp, and then silence you. He grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the ground, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Finish what you started.”

“But,” He raised his brows, warning you to stop disobeying him and just do it. So with a pout, you moved to the floor and straddled the pillow.

“Atta girl. Do it just like how you were when I walked in.” You blushed at the reminder, but slowly lowered yourself onto it and started moving your hips. It didn’t take long for you to get desperate enough to show your enthusiasm without shame. But you were also getting impossibly more desperate for him.

“Daddy… please.” You whined. “Wanna touch you.” The way you whimpered and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes made him fold almost instantly.

“Where?”

“Wanna do this, but… on your thigh.” He sighed, but patted his leg and you scrambled up to straddle it as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Better?” You bit back a grin as you nodded. He suddenly grabbed your hips and started moving you against his thigh, but you quickly picked back up and started rutting against him desperately. Now that you could smell him and feel his warmth, and his strong hands holding your hips, your tummy was getting impossibly tighter with arousal. All of the friction on your clit was starting to hurt a little, but you couldn’t stop. Not now.

“Such a good girl…” He cooed, making you whine and ride his leg faster. “I’m gonna teach you all the ways little girls can please their daddies. Do you want that, baby?”

“Mhm.” You were too spaced out to respond properly. “Daddy, it— I…” You choked out, not even knowing what it was that you were actually feeling.

“It’s okay. Keep going.” You whined at his encouragement but obeyed eagerly, wanting to feel this pleasure longer. Your sounds got louder and your hips moved even faster until you mewled quietly as your body convulsed. You were shaking and writhing from the intense pleasure and his hands started pulling your hips when you weren’t able to focus on moving them anymore. “Good girl… Ride it out.” He said quietly and you squeezed your eyes shut as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He kept grinding your hips down on his thigh and you were sobbing out moans until it finally subsided and the achy feeling was gone.

“How was that?” He asked, loosening his grip to an intensity that wouldn’t leave bruises.

“What… what was…” You were panting heavily, trying to catch your breath and calm down.

“It’s called an orgasm. Only I can give them to you, do you understand?” His voice was soft but still stern.

“Mhm.” You nodded, now so much more tired than you were a few seconds ago. He pulled the covers back, then picked you up by your hips and placed you on the bed. You laid down, then he brought the covers up and handed you your stuffed animal before tucking you in. “My little girl.” He whispered, pushing your hair out of your face. You blushed and smiled sleepily. “Only mine.”

“Only yours..” You mumbled incoherently and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, filling your stomach with butterflies.

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @cillianscrybaby @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @bernelflo @milktert @crunchsworld

#raymond leon smut #raymond leon x reader #raymond leon #in time #cillian murphy

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scourgeofmyownbrain · 2 months ago

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I have noticed things about this Bumblebee design, and I can't stay silent about it anymore. (If I do not speak my mind now, I fear I may explode, so please bear with my unhinged screaming, this is good for my health.)

I have compiled my thoughts into a post because I want to spread my insanity like a plague. There are things about this YELLOW MOTHER FUCKER that I can not let go un-acknowledged anymore, THE WORLD WILL KNOW OF YOUR SINS AND I WILL BE THE ONE TO REVEAL THEM

Did you notice anything off or weird about Bumblebee in TFP? Did you? Did you notice? Anything?

BECAUSE I DID

BOY FUCKING DID I

TO begin, this fucker has no eye lids. No, I am not kidding, he never blinks. Ever. Entire show. Not one flutter of a wayward eyelid. Those eyebrows do SO MUCH heavy lifting. There are three other characters (Soundwave, Shockwave, and the Vehicons) that also do not blink, but they have either one big eye and no face or a full face mask, NOT TWO COMPLETELY NORMAL EYES THAT JUST DON’T BLINK

Second, his battle "mask." There are maybe like, 3 instances of a battle mask in the entire show: Optimus, Wheeljack, Bumblebee, and I think that's it. And Bumblebee's is the only one that looks like that, that barely-cover-the-mouth thing it's doing.

Why do his upper arms look so disproportionate to his lower arms? They look too small, the wheel looks like it’s most of the structure and, once again, no one else’s looks like this. Look at his horrific shoulders. What kind of unloving god would make this? (also im like 80% sure his left shoulder is clipping on his body just to accommodate this shot fUCKing hoRriFiC CHoicEs gENTlemen leTs KeeP fUCKINg doing iT)

Exhaust Pipes. I shant say more.

Yes, his insignia is fucking tiny and on his pelvis. Do with that what you will. no one else's is like this why-

Mothers and Fuckers I give you the BANE of My Existence, TFP BUMBLEBEE’S HOLLOW KNEES. Look at those fuckers I can thread a stick right through it. These stupid fucking triangles have been haunting me for YEARS, and, just like his eyes, NO OTHER CHARACTER HAS KNEES LIKE THIS!! I feel nothing but rage looking at this, I hate his knees with a fucking passion I am going to commit 8 felonies

Why do his knee spikes stick out so far? Why. Several other characters have similar spikes, why are Bee’s so far out. The Knees...are probably making it look worse than it is.

HIS FEET ARE TOO BIG FOR HIS LEGS WHY ARE THEY SO MUCH BIGGER! They look like clown shoes, why are they so enormous, they look so disproportionate to the rest of his body. It’s so suddenly too, his feet just abruptly explode out.

Bumblebee has no ankles. All of my emotions have shut off. Everyone else has an their joint is closer to their heel, more in the middle of their foot. Bee’s joint is too far away from his heel, more at the front of his foot. Why iS HIS HEEL SO MUCH BIGGER THAN THE REST OF HIS FOOT!! WHY ARE HIS FEET SO GODDAMN WIDE??

Let's look at a couple other bots to make my point. I'll stick to ones around Bee's size. Wheeljack and Knockout are both 21 feet tall, same as Bee. Knockout has similar wheel placement in his feet and Wheeljack has similar wheel placement in his shoulders.

would you look at that they look fucking n o r m a l. look at their NORMAL KNEES and NORMAL ARMS and NORMAL SIZED FEET THEY DON'T LOOK LIKE CLOWN SHOES HELD ON BY FUCKING STRING

I am having a conniption he is the only one that looks like this.

Would you like some very, very cursed knowledge? Yes, you would: TFP Bumblebee and RID2015 Bumblebee CANONICALLY LOOK IDENTICAL. Like, if you were in the ALC Universe, looking at two photos of him from both the time of TFP and RID15, you would not be able to tell them apart. How do I know this?

LET ME TELL YOU. So, in the episode “History Lessons”, Bumblebee takes his team to the ruins of the Nevada Autobot base, Autobot Outpost Omega One, which we all know was destroyed at the end of TFP Season 2, and they find an old recording from Before the base was destroyed. This recording is of Bumblebee in the base before it was destroyed, and his model is the same as his RID15 one. (see FUCKING above)

You’re probably asking yourself, “But why does that matter, it’s just the show’s different art styles and they needed to make sure we recognized Bee in the recording,” Why? Let me list the ways:

Bumblebee has spontaneously grown fingers in RID15. He only had 4 on each hand in TFP, but in RID15 he Suddenly just had 5. They did the exact same thing with Bulkhead, so I’m not just going crazy.

Bumblebee’s transformation sequence has drastically changed. In TFP he transformed face down head forward, and in RID15 he transforms face up head back. This is significant, and can’t be explained as artistic interpretation, because in TFP season 2 episode 4, Bumblebee drives through a ground bridge after Megatron, transforms then launches himself forward, diving to snatch the spark extractor from Megatron’s hand. You can’t do that if you’re leading with your feet. And It is very obvious that Bee transforms face up in RID15, his feet are the front of the car. I would show you pictures but I am not combing through the shows to find any more images I am so done someone please save me-

"The shows have very different art styles, maybe Bumblebee has just changed how he looks." I hear you say, and Yes. That is something that can happen in canon, Starscream “reformatted himself to his old body type,” which is actually true; his RID15 form looks a lot more like his WF/FOC form, and Soundwave shows up in his TFP form when he’s fresh out of the shadow zone, then he changes his form. We have direct confirmation that characters can change their forms. So there shouldn’t be any problems with Bumblebee’s design, correct?

YOU WOULD THINK, but because the video bee is identical to rid15 bee, but it's supposed to be tfp bee, this makes TFP Bee and RID15 Bee CANONICALLY IDENTICAL. Plus Bee's Rescue Bots Cameos are Identical as well, and one is from TFP time and the other is RID15 time.

The LOGICAL implication is that if TFP Bee and RID15 Bee are identical, then RID15 Bee actually doesn’t have eyelids and does not blink. fucking pains me in places that should not be able to feel pain.

Can you see why I'm insane now?

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skylarsblue · 2 years ago

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I still have more. More Incorrect Quotes.

(Accidentally had a lot more fem!Y/N than intended but it's overall GN!) Alex: What made you think you’d be good for the military? Y/N: I worked at a Waffle House in America. Alex: Ah, alright, that makes sense.

-- (Interrogating Valeria)

Y/N: Look, Gaz, you know me. I can't- I can't do it. Gaz: Why not? Why can't you interrogate her? Y/N: Because I'm a bisexual with mommy issues, Gaz. And she's as pretty as she is scary. I'm already not that intimidating, she'll laugh at me when I start stuttering and then I'll just be horny. It can't be me. Gaz: ....okay, I'll ask Alejandro-

-- Y/N: I just realized something...I had a bad childhood. Gaz: Yeah we know. Y/N: What do you mean you know? Soap: Look at how you stand! People who had good childhoods don't stand like that. Y/N: How do I stand?! Gaz: Like Ghost. Ghost: ...I don't appreciate the call out but fair-

-- Price: Where are you going?! Y/N: To either get ice cream or commit a felony, I'll decide in the car!

-- Ghost after watching Fem!Y/N do an incredibly risky move: I just...Is she blind?? Suffering some form of brain damage?

-- (Tw; Hollywood Undead unalive song)

Y/N: My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of the bottle is my only friend, I think I'll sli- Price: EXCUSE ME?! WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?? Y/N: Wh- No Captain, it's just a so- Price: GHOST GET THE BASE PSYCH ON THE PHONE Y/N: CAPTAIN IT'S A SONG I'M FINE- Well I'm not bUT NO WAIT HANG ON-

-- Valeria: *screaming in spanish* Y/N: ... Gaz: Don't. Y/N, blushing: I'm trying-

-- (During movie night; watching Venom)

Y/N: *pauses on that scene where Venoms sticks his tongue out at the guy in the street* ....Hear me out- Gaz: NO! NO. Y/N: NO NO LISTEN, LISTEN- Soap: Let them speak. Gaz: Don't encourage this! Y/N, pointing at the screen: LOOK AT IT! LOOK! Objectively you have to understand- Gaz: NOOO, it eats people! Soap: THAT TONGUE IS THREE FEET LONG AT LEAST! Gaz: No, I will not be hearing anyone out! I- GHOST, Ghost, back me up. Tell them they shouldn't want to fuck the ALIEN. Ghost, looking at the screen: Ethically, it's wrong. Gaz: Thank you. Ghost: ...objectively- Y/N: AHA! SEE?!

-- Ghost: *bends over* Y/N: *silently flips out* Soap, quietly: Wh-what? What are you-?! Y/N: SHHH *grabs Soap's jaw and turns him to look* Soap: *slack jaw* Damn- Y/N: fuckingdamnindeed- Ghost: *turns around* Soap: So it's your turn to pick dinner, what're you thinking? Y/N: Oh I dunno, maybe something pork related, uh, or cake- Soap: Aha, yeah...cake. Ghost: ....??

Fem!Y/N: I am not the mom of 141, that's ridiculous. Someone: You make all of them lunch every day with fruit cut into shapes, IN PERSONALIZED LUNCH BOXES Fem!Y/N: They need nutrition! Someone: You color code their items- Fem!Y/N: Look, if you were there for the item mix-ups you'd understand. Someone: YOU ARE LITERALLY FOLDING AND LABELLING THEIR LAUNDRY WITH A SHARPIE ON THE TAGS. Fem!Y/N: *holding Simon's skull boxers, writing his name on the tag* That- ...oh my god I'm the mom.

-- Ghost, watching Soap run past: WHAT DO YOU HAVE?! Soap, grinning & sprinting: A FUCKIN' BOMB Ghost: NO!!!

-- Price: Y/N, this is Lieutenant Riley, you can call him Ghost. Ghost: Y/N, looking him up and down: ...you got daddy issues? Ghost: ....maybe Y/N: Cool, same. Pleasure to meet'cha, sorry life gave you shit. Ghost, shaking their hand: Ditto. Price: *concerned sigh*

-- Price, walking into the common area at 10 pm: What in the world- Gaz, Soap, and Y/N: *all in there pyjamas with face masks on, eating snacks* Y/N: *slowly keeps chewing* Gaz: ...heeeyy siiirr... Price: It was lights out an hour ago, what are you lot doing? Soap: *slowly raises another face mask* ....Self care, sir? Price: ... Ghost, walking in at midnight for water: ....what. Soap, Gaz, Price, and Y/N: *stop gossiping* Gaz: ....hey. Soap: Evenin' L.T. Y/N: Howdy. Ghost: *looks at Price with a face mask on* Ghost: ...*sighs and sits down* Pass the Goldfish. Soap: Yeaaaah, good man! Welcome to the party!

-- Shepard: Is anyone here straight?! Price: ...*hesitantly raises hand* Laswell: *pushes his hand back down*

-- Valeria: *angry ranting* Y/N, a captive: Stop being so mean to me or I swear to god I'm gonna fall in love with you!

-- Ghost: What in the hell are you doing? Y/N: Laying in the rain. Ghost: Why? Y/N: If I lay here long enough, it feels like it washes the sad away. So I'm gonna lay here until the sad is gone. Ghost: You'll get sick. Y/N: Better sick than sad, sir. Ghost: ...*looks at the sky, back down, sighs* Ghost: *lays down on the tarmac* Y/N: Got a lot of sad? Ghost: ...Yeah. Y/N: If the rain doesn't take care of it, let's trade sads. Then it'll at least be a different kind of sad. Ghost: Not sure you want my sad. Y/N: Maybe not, but I don't think you should have to handle your sad alone either. Ghost: ...alright. Y/N: Cool.

-- Price: Simon, it's three o' clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making chocolate pudding? Ghost: Because I've lost control of my life.

-- Soap, with a gunshot wound: Do I regret it? Yes. Will I do it again? Most likely.

-- Y/N after doing something so badass it would fit in a movie: ...DID EVERYONE SEE THAT?? CAUSE I WILL NOT BE DOING IT AGAIN.

-- Ghost: You kidnapped the prime minister's daughter? That's illegal! Soap: Okay, Ghost, but what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing the prime minister's daughter, or destroying 141? Ghost: KIDNAPPING THE PRIME MINISTER'S DAUGHTER, JOHNNY! Fem!Y/N: Do you guys have like, a water or something? Snack maybe? No?

-- Y/N: I think there's been some confusion. I'm not the one in trouble here. Enemy Soldier: ...What? Y/N: There are only four of you. You'll need more than that. Gaz, hearing it over the intercom: ...they're gonna whoop-ass but we should probably go help them.

-- Someone: Why are you doing their straps for them? Price: They don't like velcro. Someone: Just do it yourself! Y/N: I'm not touching that stuff! I'll get neurotypical cooties.

-- Y/N, high on painkillers: If yo leg get cut off, would it hurt? Soap, in a hospital bed beside them: ...DUH Y/N: How though? Soap: Cause your leg got cut off! Y/N: Where you gonna feel the pain? Soap: In your le.... Y/N: Exactly bro! How you gonna feel the pain in yo leg if- Both: If your leg is gone! Soap: Whoooaaa... Y/N: Bro I swear, we're geniuses. Ghost, on his last brain cell: Fuckin'ell.

-- Ghost, about to lose his shit: Dear lord, I know we haven't spoken in a long time but if you could give me a little patience-

-- Gaz: Do you believe in God? Y/N: ...Yes & no. Gaz: Yes & No? What do you mean? Y/N: I believe there is a higher power, I believe a God exists. But...believing in God? Now that...haven't done that in a long time.

Gaz & Y/N: *dancing* Ghost: Can you two be serious for five seconds? Gaz, bustin' a move: Dunno sir, can you have fun for five seconds? Y/N: *stops and looks at Gaz* Gaz: *stops and is filled with instant regret* ...uh, sir, I- Ghost: Tell you what. I'll give you five seconds...to start running- Gaz: *turns to run and sees Y/N already yards away* YOU LEFT ME?! Y/N: I WANNA LIVE!!!!

-- Ghost: What are they doing? Price: Arguing in morse code. Soap: - .... .- - .----. ... / .-- .... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... --- . ... / .-. .- --. --. . -.. -.-- Gaz: -.-- .- / -- --- -- -- .- Soap: YOU FUCKIN' TAKE THAT BACK-

-- Soap: Keep your eyes closed, I have a surpriiisee!~ Ghost: You did your paperwork? Soap: I said surprise, not miracle.

-- Y/N, on tiktok: FOR ALL YOU NASTY ASSES IN MY DMS- *shows the team* THIS IS MY TEAM. STOP SENDING MY DICK PICS OR I WILL SEND THEM AFTER Y'ALL. Ghost: You've been getting dick pics? Soap: Who the hell's been harassing you online?! Y/N: SEE?? THEY'LL WHOOP YA ASS, SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!

-- Y/N, on tiktok again: Alright, backfired on me. For all of y'all who are now trying to be nasty by THIRSTING for my teammates, uh, no. Stop askin' for my Captain's marital status, I'm not gonna tell you. No you may not get my teammate's dicks, I will not be giving you their social media, stOP ASKING I KNOW THEY'RE HOT BUT NO-

-- (I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Karen compilations, so, that's why I thought of this)

Y/N: Goodbye sir! Male Karen: Fuck you bitch! Go suck off your captain you fuckin' whore!! Y/N: Sure, I'll do that, goodbye! Male Karen: Suck my dick, whore! Y/N: Can't! It's too full of military dick, you'll need to make an appointment, GOODBYE!! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: Jesus. Christ. Ghost: I told you all America is shit.

(Bonus Note cause I can't put in anywhere else; on the topic of Venom + C.o.D. I know we have Soap in place of Eddie & Ghost in place of Venom, but hear me out. Y/N! being Ghost's host and Johnny being a third part. P o l y ! A u !)

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serafilms · 1 year ago

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song 72! you belong with me (taylor swift) + newt requested by @misty-inferno (2023 spotify wrapped event)

dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If anyone were to ask where either you or Newt were, the other gladers would say to look for the other. They’d probably end up finding the two of you together.

At least, that was the case before Thomas came into the picture.

Today found you sitting on a bench near the kitchen, where Frypan had kicked you out. Apparently your sour mood was spoiling the food. You glowered when you looked in the distance and saw Newt walking the newbie around.

“Whoa, why are you trying to commit a felony?”

Your eyes flitted up to where Minho was hovering over you. Still scowling, you said, “What felony?”

“Attempted murder. Using your face.”

“Man, fuck you!” you exclaimed, smacking him on the arm.

“Hey! I didn’t mean it like that! I meant like, the whole ‘if looks could kill’ thing,” he defended himself, rubbing his arm.

“Well either way, I’m not trying to murder anyone, you slinthead.”

Minho shrugged. “Tell that to Thomas. He’s been asking since last night why you keep glaring at him.”

“I’m not glaring at him,” you scoffed, “I’m observing. Analysing.”

“Right, right,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “You sure you’re not just pissy he’s hanging out with Newt?”

“Well,” you huffed, “he already got the tour from Chuck, what more does he need to know?”

Minho finally joined you on the bench, and nudged you with his elbow. You massaged the sore spot on your ribs.

“You should tell him how you feel, you know.”

“I’ve tried, Minho.”

He looked very unimpressed. “How? Telepathic signals?”

“I- well, you know,” you spluttered, “I wrote a note that said ‘I love you’ and left it in his hammock? But then it fell out and he didn’t see it.”

“My condolences,” Minho drawled.

You stuck your tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes. Minho was right, to some extent, you thought. But you didn’t want to confess to him, not with everything he’d been through, and with this horrible situation you’d been thrust in.

Newt was the best, most deserving person you’d ever met, and you knew you couldn’t force him into anything. Also, you were a bit of a coward. But that wasn’t the important part. You wanted him to realise by himself that you loved him and decide what he wanted.

And if what he wanted was Thomas, so be it.

“It’s not that simple,” you said to Minho. “Nothing is ever simple in The Glade. If I have to keep pining after him until he realises I love him or decides he loves me, then I will.”

Minho’s lips pursed and his gaze softened. “Okay, fine.”

Then he looked forwards and his eyes zeroed in on something. “Heads up, though, they’re coming this way.”

You looked up instantly and found Newt and Thomas heading your way. Newt raised his hand in a wave and Thomas gave what was probably supposed to be a smile but ended up being more like a grimace. Wow, he really did think you hated him.

“Hey Y/N, Minho,” Newt said, but his gaze was fixed on you. “Could I talk to Y/N for a second?”

“Fine,” scoffed Minho, “get rid of me. Come on, greenie, let’s go raid the kitchen.”

He threw an arm around Thomas and guided him away, and Newt took his spot on the bench while your heartbeat and body temperature rose alarmingly.

“Hi,” you managed to squeak out, “what’s up?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I found this on top of your things when I tried to look for you this morning.”

He started to rummage around in his pants pocket. “And then Thomas told me he saw the same piece of paper lying on the ground under my hammock last night.”

Dread filled every crevice of your body as Newt pulled out a folded piece of paper and unfolded it to reveal the words ‘I love you.’

“That’s… quite a coincidence,” you muttered.

Newt’s face twisted in a smile. “Yeah, I thought so too.”

Your face was unimaginably red when he started digging around in his other pocket and then turned to look at you.

“But what’s an even bigger coincidence, is this.”

He handed you a second piece of paper, folded only in half. Your heart lurched as you peeled it open. ‘I love you,’ it said, in a perfect imitation of Newt’s handwriting.

“What?”

He laughed at your dumbstruck expression and took the paper from your hands, then took your hands in his, forcing you to look at him. “I was going to give it to you tonight.”

“You love me?” you asked, still dumbstruck.

“I do, yeah.”

Your stomach did flips as you grinned at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Newt turned a little pink, and you flushed with pride at being able to embarrass him, then he nodded.

Nobody was surprised when you both showed up hand in hand to dinner that night, nor when you kissed afterwards. And nobody, not even Thomas, was surprised when Newt climbed his way into your hammock instead of his.

Because that was where he belonged. With you.

the maze runner: apocalypse sassy man apocalypse

based off of the ybwm music video

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artiststarme · 9 months ago

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Officer Phil Callahan wasn’t often seen in a positive light. Most people viewed him as immature, impulsive, condescending, and a poor excuse for a poor excuse of a police officer. However, no one could accuse him of being a bad brother. He prided himself on always being there for his little bro and his brother knew he could count on him too for anything. As such, Phil was the first person he went to after receiving the beating of all beatings.

So, when Phil opened his front door to see his baby bro leaning against the doorframe for support with his bruised face bearing more resemblance to a blueberry, he dropped everything to help him.

“Holy goddamn shit, Steve! What the hell happened to your face?!” He ushered Steve inside and settled him on the well-worn couch adorning his small living room.

Phil didn’t know what had happened to his brother and he didn’t know who had tried to pulverize his face but he did know whomever had committed this atrocity would pay. He didn’t care if he had to arrest Jonathan Byers again or face off against the powerful Hagan parents to cuff Tommy H in public, he was going to make someone suffer.

His rage only grew as he watched Steve dry heave and vomit for hours on end. Phil aspired to return the beating to the perpetrator that gave Steve the headache of all headaches and physical damage to boot. He took care of Steve through the night by waking him up every four hours, rubbing his back through the dry heaves, and giving him water to keep him hydrated. As soon as he seemed stable enough to be left alone though, Phil was badgering him for the name of the attacker.

He waited just long enough to hear, “Billy Hargrove, but don’t-“ before he was off.

Dressed in his Sheriff’s Deputy uniform with his gun on his hip, he set off to find the sack of shit that hurt his brother. Would this look bad in front of the townspeople? Definitely. Could it hurt his job and his position in the department? Most probably. But he would do what he had to do and probably beat the shit out of that dirtbag in revenge.

As expected, the Californian hippie delinquent was standing by his Camaro in front of the school with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Phil pulled the patrol care right up to his bumper before storming up to him and shoving him against his own drivers side door. Billy’s cigarette dropped ashes against Phil’s forearm but the rage inside of him burned even more than the fluttering ash. The eyes of nearly the entire student body rested on him but he didn’t let it phase him.

“You roughed up Steve yesterday,” Phil growled.

“You’re crazy. Who the fuck-“

“You’re gonna shut up and listen, buttercup. If you even think about touching Steve again, you kinky shit, I will make your life a living hell. Stay away from my brother.”

“Whatever, man. Did Steve go running home to mommy-“

He didn’t even register his just flying until Billy’s head whipped to the side followed by a pain in his hand. Shit, he just hit a kid. A bitchy one, but a kid nonetheless. “I’m sorr-“

“Is that all you got? I guess you and Stevie-boy both hit like the pansies you are.” Billy sneered at him with blood coating his teeth.

This little prick. Phil wasn’t going to let some high school bully get away with this. First he tries to kill his brother and then he starts talking shit about the both of them? Nope, no siree. Phil pauses but a minute before pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt and latching them around a struggling Hargove’s wrists. “Okay, you little shit. You’re under arrest for felony assault, attempted murder, and anything else I can throw at you. No school for you today, now get in my car.”

“Are you fucking serious?!” He yelled, bloody spittle spitting from his lips.

“Yep, just like that concussion you gave my brother. Now shut up and stop resisting before I have to shoot you.” He wouldn’t actually shoot this kid but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Phil knew the charges probably wouldn’t stick but he still felt lighter, relieved, that he had gotten at least a little bit of justice for Steve. And if the increasingly panicked murmurings in the backseat brought a smile to his face? Well, no one was any the wiser.

#Eddie Munson sees the cop put Hargrove in his place and develops a little crush #that certainly makes things confusing in the future when he finds out that the cop and Steve are brothers #he has a type and his types are the Harringtons #Steve goes back to school after recovering to a whole new fan base #and oddly a nerdy dungeon game player that keeps staring at him #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #officer callahan is steve’s brother

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twopoppies · 3 months ago

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Sorry to go back to Bg but I'm convinced Louis team was intending to let it fade into irrelevance until nobody remembered it until B's sugar daddy exposed her and he/his team did what they always do and overreact instead of using it and backdating the whole thing they went in the opposite direction and pushed to try and cover up the fact he had nothing to do with the kid for years. ( just like with larry,, there was no reason to do all that it just made people more interested in them) all they've done with it is made a bigger mess that's going to be MORE sus and make MORE people look deeper into everything when it finally ends or more likely gets exposed (disclaimer: i dont want him to be exposed it's just the fact is the bigger the lie the harder it is to keep 🤷‍♀️)

Yeah, I agree that Boobgate seemed to be the turning point. I don't think it was entirely an overreaction because they could have course-corrected if so. They haven't yet and it's been two years at this point. I really think there's some kind of legal issue he's trying not to get caught in. There's no way Sony would take the fall if the truth came out. It would all fall on Louis.

I'm not an attorney, but from what I can understand, falsely claiming to be a parent on a birth certificate can lead to serious legal consequences. At the federal level, there is no specific law criminalizing falsely signing a birth certificate, but this type of fraud can have various legal repercussions based on state laws.

False Information as Fraud: In California, knowingly providing false information on a birth certificate is considered a form of fraud, and the state may impose both civil and criminal penalties. California law treats falsely establishing paternity as perjury if done knowingly, which can be a felony with significant fines and potential jail time.

Paternity Presumption: In California, when a man signs a voluntary declaration of paternity, the law presumes he is the legal father. If he later claims he is not the biological father, he may face legal complications, especially if he signed the declaration while knowing he was not the biological parent. Depending on the state, this can be classified as a misdemeanor or felony offense with penalties including fines, imprisonment, or both.

Federal Involvement in Fraud Cases: If the false claim is part of a larger fraud scheme involving benefits, such as falsely claiming dependency benefits, federal charges could apply. For instance, fraudulently claiming a dependent on tax filings (if connected to a fraudulent birth certificate) could lead to charges for tax fraud or other federal offenses. I doubt Briana is filing taxes claiming Freddie as a dependent, but Tammi and Brett may be. Or Louis might be required to do it but isn't. I have no idea, but it's something to think about.

Consequences Beyond Criminal Penalties: Falsely signing a birth certificate can also have serious civil repercussions, especially in cases where paternity or custody rights are contested later. Courts may impose penalties, order repayment of child support or benefits fraudulently obtained (ie: requesting government assistance), and adjust parental rights or responsibilities (would this affect who has the right to care for Freddie and make decisions concerning his well-being?). Additionally, Louis' ability to keep his US Visa (thus being able to visit/tour/work in the US) could be compromised if he were found tp have committed fraud.

(If there are actual Family Law attorneys out there, please correct me if I'm wrong)

This is not to say he is stuck forever. But I think he needs to establish that he THOUGHT he was Freddie's dad for a long enough time to then have a DNA test and prove that he's not, but he can't appear to have known the whole time.

This, IMO, is why fans are better off just shutting up about it right now because constantly pointing out the pregnancy discrepancies, or how much he didn't do in those first five years, probably makes things more difficult for him.

#babygate #don't quote me on the legal stuff #that's just what I can figure out from researching #babygate legal issues

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billskeis · 10 months ago

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PLEASE DO ANOTHER POLICE OFFICER! BILL SMUT PLSLSLPLSSLPLSPSLPSLSLPSLPSLPLPSLPLS

ᡣ𐭩 police officer bill p2

now what the fuck did you get yourself into? because there you sat in the interrogation chair, facing the one and last person you wanted to see. sat straight and tall, tapping one of his fingers on the wooden desk of his office, staring at you like some animal. licking your dry lips, you are met face to face with the officer who fucked you silly.

bill kaulitz was his name, and on your last endeavour, he had caught you.. which ended with the both of you encountering some, quite indecent acts that following night. now, he had warned you about committing crimes again, and what would happen if you did.

but maybe you wanted this, maybe you wanted him to fuck you silly, brain so numb all you can think of is how his dick drills into your sore pussy. you miss that feeling, the feeling of fullness. the feeling of his cock all the way in your stomach as he brings a hand to choke your neck.

“dollface, did you hear anything i said?” a voice breaks your consciousness as you jolt within your seat. clearing your throat, you pretend you were paying attention to whatever the fuck he was just saying earlier. “of course i was!”

he hums in disapproval. uh oh. getting up from his seat, he leans over his desk to hover over you who’s sitting down, hands restrained together by the uncomfortable clasp of metal around your wrists. using his thumb and his index finger, he holds your chin making you look directly at him. eyelids lowered, he has this primal gaze that almost has your knees buckling.

“i don’t think you understand the current situation you’re in, dollface..” you swallow hard, damn. did he have to say it in such a dark tone? moving away from the desk, he circles around it’s peripheral, finding his way behind you. he presses his crotch against your backside, clearly hard. dumb little you would’ve thought it was a gun again.

papers and files were pushed off the table, and there you were, bent over officer kaulitz’s desk as he fucks into you for being such a bad girl. clawing at the wood, you attempt to stabilize yourself on the furniture as it shakes and lean with every thrust. his cock throbs inside of you with every moan and whimper that slips out of your mouth.

“b-bill..” “that’s sir, to you,” you bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan as he pumps himself within you, heavy balls smacking against your ass as he relentlessly moves his hips. “s—ah—s-sir.. n’more..” a low chuckle heard from behind you as a harsh smack lands on your behind, a yelp escaping your lips.

“u-ugh.. been such a bad girl.. i literally fucked you the other day, was that not enough for ya?” tears fill your eyes. your cunt hurts from the way he pounds into you, and it doesn’t help that you guys just had sex not too long ago. god wasn’t nice enough to let you successfully escape from your heist, a limp to your walk. now you’d need a wheelchair.

you sob at how thick he fills your pussy, angling his hips to continuously abuse your g spot as the creak of a table and sticky wet squelching echoes through his office. “y-you don’t understand.. i—mmh! needed the m-money.. hahh..” “yeah? then lemme help you out.”

frowning, you couldn’t ask him to do that. what the hell was his problem? a police officer helping a felony? it sounded almost insane but the way he latches his fingers to circle on your clit as he pistons his hips fucking into yours made him sound a smidge more genuine.

“f-fuck!! ‘m gonna cum soon..” “so is that a yes?” you look back at bill, whose hips still for a moment as he awaits your answer. averting your gaze, you face flushes as he can only look down at you with a smirk, “i-i’ll think about it..”

another slap lands on your ass, quivering you gasp in disbelief at the sudden movement of bill. he only looks at you, pursing his lips together as he begins moving again, your cunt walls shaping to fit him better inside of you, “guess yer gunna need a lil’ more convincing, hm?”

a heat firing in your belly as he pounds into you. your pussy sounds filthy, wet and squishy as bill plunges his cock into you with no intentions to stop. you clench around him, close, and without your words bill can see as how fast your orgasm is to come, even making an effort to fuck your hips back onto his.

scoffing, bill can only pull himself out of you, juices leaking out and an empty, unsatisfying feeling flurries within your cunt. “w-wha.. why’d you stop?” “ohoh, look at you all desperate to come now, little slut wants this dick but doesn’t even want my help.” your chest feels heavy, cunt even heavier with need.

“y’know i can’t ask you for that..” “you’re not asking doll.. i’m offering.” he turns your body around to face his and cups a hand around your cheek, stroking away the sweat and tears with his thumb as he places a kiss to your forehead, “s’what is it gunna be? gunna let me help ya? if not, you can leave right now.”

you whine, reaching a hand out to his lower groin, bill quickly swatting your hand away. “‘m serious, y/n.” as you look him up and down, you can’t help but think. it is a pretty good offer, what is there to lose? “o-okay.. i’ll let you help me.”

a smile forms on bill’s lips as he gropes one of your breasts in his hand, thumbing over sensitive bud, “atta girl… whaddya say?” both hands now grasping each of your tips, fondling with the flesh, “t-thank you..” he shakes his head at you, sighing, letting out a little gasp in all of your forgetfulness, “thank you, sir..”

“that’s more like it,” as he pushes himself back into your needy cunt, fucking nice and deep into your cervix.

i absolutely fucking hate this im so sorry T_T

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp #billskeis

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xzaddyzanakinx · 1 year ago

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Missed me? Pt 3

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: stepcest/inappropriate relationships, cheating, kissing, flashback, past minor injury, angry/kinda violent thoughts

Info: honestly ur mom is rlly good at psychological warfare

You ran with Chewie in tow, your lungs on fire as you attempted to get home as quickly as possible. You skid to a stop on the pavement outside your house, the scene unfolding before you hitting you hard. Your mom, stomping out to her car and slamming the door shut. Throwing it in reverse and peeling out of the driveway without even glancing your way. You could physically feel the air blowing past you as she sped off out of the neighborhood.

You walked inside, terrified you’d find a mess. But to your surprise everything was in its place. You unclipped Chewie’s leash and let her roam about inside the house until she found a cool spot on the floor.

You could hear Anakin still working in the garage, he’d turned on some music to keep him company. Maybe you overreacted? She probably didn’t think anything of it right? It’s innocent enough. Anakin is notorious for leaving grease and oil stains in places they should never be. Like the time you painted your palm shoe-polish black just from opening the fridge.

It was nothing. Right? Anakin would be in here upset and waiting for you if something had happened, so everything must be fine. You thought back to your earlier conversation with your mom and recalled how annoyed she seemed about that coding mishap.

Relief spread through you, she was extremely anal about her work. A perfectionist through and through, maybe she’d received word the damage was worse than she originally thought. That would definitely warrant nascar level driving in her eyes.

Even so, you felt the need to placate her when she returned. After a shower and a clean set of comfy clothes you set about cleaning the main floor of the house thoroughly. Scrubbing each surface clean, vacuuming, mopping windex-ing the windows. You even cleared out the leftovers and expired items from the fridge. Going so far as to jot down the items that needed replacing.

Trotting over to the cork board mounted on the wall of the short hall leading to the laundry room and the garage door. This was where everything of importance lived, bills, grocery lists, to-do lists, even a family calendar. Something in red ink had been added to the calendar for tomorrow and you nearly stabbed yourself with a push pin when you read it.

‘Date Night 6:00 @Marzettis’

Written in the ridiculously neat and proper cursive that only could’ve belonged to your mother. If you measured the PSI of your bite force right now, you were one hundred percent sure it would be enough to bite off your mother’s writing hand. Your jaw was clenched so tightly that you heard your molars squeak in protest.

Jabbing the list into the cork with the pushpin you let out a breath that you’d been holding long enough to make you alittle lightheaded.

Calm down. They’re married. Married people go on dates. Anakin can’t really reject his own wife can he? No. No he can’t. It’s okay.

You shook out your anger, resolving yourself to ignore the fact that your stomach was churning with nerves and your tongue burned with unspoken venom. There was still things to do. And doing things is good. Scrubbing every centimeter of the bathroom shower with such aggression that you permanently bent the bristles of your favorite scrub brush was definitely a healthy alternative to committing a felony.

Hours passed and Anakin finally returned from the garage sending the current vehicle he was working on back to its owner a full day early. It’s amazing what alittle midmorning pussy pick-me-up can do for a man.

It also probably helped that your tiny arms shaved off at least an hours work of dismantling parts of the engine that were in his way of retrieving the piece he actually needed to extract. Though he’d milk his coincidental success as the result of your passionate rekindling for all that it’s worth. It couldn’t hurt to test out that theory a few times could it?

“Whoa.” He snorted, seeing you to his left scrubbing the inside of the washing machine. “What the hell are you doing?”

You lifted your head a bit too fast and wacked it on the lip of the washer, immediately wincing and bringing a hand to rub the top of your head.

“Apparently I’m doing my damndest to give myself a concussion.” You joked, glancing over at him in his sweaty, greasy clothes.

“There’s this guy who has disgusting laundry, that occasionally leaves residue in the washer.” You dramatically explained.

“So I’m doing him a favor and saving him from an accidental repeat of the fancy hand-towel stain incident of 2020.” You grinned and watched as Anakin mirrored your expression.

“Lucky man.” He chuckled, coming over to give you a quick peck on the lips before rushing off to shower.

Dinner rolled around and you decided to order in, the local Chinese restaurant had the best egg rolls around, and that was just what you needed. You texted your mother to ask for her order and jotted yours and Anakin’s down on a scrap of paper.

~be home alittle late. Just get some Udon for me.~ She responded quickly.

Easy enough. You called in the order and it was delivered and delicious in around 30 minutes. You spread out the feast on the kitchen counter and laughed at Anakin practically drooling over the crab rangoons he was shoveling into his mouth.

“So whens she gonna be home?” He asked, not even bothering to cover his mouth despite chewing like his life depended on it.

“She just said late.” You shrugged, late could mean anything. 10 minutes, an hour; it’s a ridiculous measure of time that you’d always had trouble accepting.

“Well.” He clicked his tongue as he popped open a cold beer from the fridge. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Oh actually, you know what he haven’t done in a while?” You grinned.

“Housewives?” He smirked.

“Yes sir. Take your pick.” You scooped up your take-out box and made a beeline for your favorite seat, the comfy and worn out recliner.

“I’m thinkin’ New Jersey.” He mused, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and searching for your guilty pleasure show.

There’s something comforting about watching someone else’s life like this. Honestly you found it… strangely calming to know that other people have more stressful lives than you. And of course it didn’t hurt that you really loved a bratty cat-fight. Scripted or not, it was undeniably as entertaining as a train wreck.

It would seem that your mother’s definition of ‘late’ was around 45 minutes, she walked in the door as chipper as ever. Doing wonders for your earlier worries; nothing seemed amiss to her.

She took in your comfortable nest of blankets in your recliner, Anakin’s lanky legs draped over the armrest of the couch with his head propped on a pillow. She was… assessing the scene and found no evidence of any foul deeds.

“It was a good idea for take out.” She said, tossing her items on the table. “I’ve missed these noodles.”

“Oh I know.” You agreed. “I saved an egg roll for you.”

“Thanks sweetie.” She said, flashing a blank stare and an empty smile over her shoulder that went unnoticed by the both of you.

“So Marzettis, is that alright for tomorrow?” She asked Anakin sitting on the couch near him with her food.

“That new Italian place?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “That’s the one Obi took Satine to isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” she nodded, seemingly pleased he remembered. “They gushed about it so much I figured it was time we try it.”

“Alright, as long as there’s breadsticks I’m happy.” Anakin smiled.

Meanwhile you were boiling in your seat as you listened to their conversation. Just like in an old cartoon you swore the top of your head would screw itself off and rattle with white hot steam. Honestly, you wished it would. That might just be the only way to get rid of this pressure in your skull without *actually* combusting.

You suffered through their small talk and meaningless conversation about blah, blah and blah. Finally, the episode of Housewives ended and you made your quick egress to your room with a wave goodnight.

You lay awake in bed, planning your to-do list for the next day. You needed to keep yourself busy and entertained to avoid falling victim to the wallowing hole of self pity that is your mind’s way of ‘coping’ with your jealousy.

To-Do:

Wake up

Scream

Nap

Repeat

Perfect.

You woke up, unsure as to when you actually fell asleep; though arguably in a 73% better mood just from the simple fact that you could hear power tools being used in the garage. It was comforting. The noise used to bother you, irk you to the edge of insanity, because who in their right mind would wake up and use the loudest power tools known to man at 6:00am?

Anakin would.

Every time you woke up to the noise, it reminded you of your first kiss, what could be a better way to wake up? Except for maybe an actual kiss from him.

You had stomped from your room to the garage, having been woken up at 6:00am *on summer break* for the previous 4 days. You threw the door open and yelled for him, but he didn’t hear you. Between the loud grinding sound of metal on metal and the earbuds he had in, you had little choice but to pull something dramatic.

Spotting the extension cord you had unplugged it and relished in the momentary silence before hearing Anakin cursing and repeatedly flipping the switch. You stood and observed with a self-satisfied grin, crossing your arms and jutting out your hip as you waited for his small man brain to figure out what happened.

Karma wasn’t something you believed in until right then, because without even looking up he yanked on the extension cord and the hard plastic socket whipped your thigh leaving an almost immediate bruise.

“Fuck!” You yelled, clenching your fists and biting back a string of words so hellish you might’ve burst into flames if you screamed like you wanted to.

Anakin’s head shot up and he ripped out his earbuds, momentarily confused when he didn’t see the source of the very angry curse word. That was until you hissed as you poked at the tender bruise.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled, rounding the front end of the car to get to you. “Hey- hey sweetheart, what the hell are you doing down here? It’s awful early for you to be up.”

Oh that was it. That was not the thing to say to you right then. He could’ve called you a crybaby and you would’ve took it better than that innocent comment.

“Yeah? It’s awful early to be using whatever the fuck that thing is!” You grumbled, shaking his hand off your arm. “Do you seriously have to do that this early in the morning? Can’t you do something less… grating?!”

“Do you see any other vehicle here for me to work on?” He deadpanned.

“God you’re insufferable sometimes you know that?” You huffed, looking back down at your leg.

“Did you unplug that grinder I was using?” He asked accusingly.

“Yes I did.” You shot back. “It was getting on my fucking nerves Anakin.”

“Well shit- just let me-“ He sighed trying to pry your hands away from your thigh but you batted him away, swiping a droplet of blood across his wrist.

One of the sharp plastic corners had bit into your skin on impact and caused a teeny tiny nick. Though from the amount of blood trickling down your leg, one would automatically assume you had a proper slice of an injury.

“Baby c’mon just let me see? I’m sorry.” He said in a pained tone, you could tell he genuinely felt bad, even though this was mostly your fault.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” You had scoffed.

“Fine. My liege.” He grumbled sarcastically.

He approached with paper towels and crouched down to swat your hands away and dab gently at the wound, or rather, lack thereof. He attempted to hand you a paper towel to clean off your hand but you declined, anti-politely wiping off the blood onto his dirty work shirt.

“Are you serious right now?” He scowled.

“Are you almost done?” You countered, crossing your arms again.

“Yeah. It’s just a scratch. Turns out every inch of you is just as dramatic as your shit attitude.” He said, standing up, his height making you feel dwarfed.

“Yeah that’s what happens when-“ you started in an angry, belittling tone.

Though you were cut off and the world paused around you. You went stiff as he grabbed you by the shoulders and leaned down to kiss you. Before you even registered what was happening top-side, your body had already begun to relax in his arms. His big strong, work-worn hands pulling you into him while he slipped his tongue between your lips. Gliding lightly just behind your top row of teeth before you finally gave in and kissed him back.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed know content when he released your waist to cradle your head with both hands, your own fisting his shirt as you kissed like your lives depended on it.

“Hey! You up?” Your mom knocked loudly on your door and broke the trance of the sweet memory. That 73%? Reduced to 32%.

“Yes.” You huffed and rolled out of bed, unlocking your door and letting her in.

“Great, I want to borrow a dress of yours is that okay?” She asked, heading to your closet before you could even respond.

No way. Absolutely no way. She was not wearing that.

“No. Pick something else.” You said sternly, taking the red summer dress and hanging it back up.

“What why?” She questioned.

“Because it has a hole in it.” You lied, “can’t have you going on your big date like that.”

“I didn’t see a hole.” She countered, going to grab it again.

“Trust me. There’s a hole.” And they’ll be another one: in the ground for her if she didn’t accept defeat on this.

“Fine.” She scoffed and drug out a few more options under your watchful eye.

“This one?” She asked.

“Yeah that one’s fine. It’ll look great.” You forced a smile and tracked her during her retreat down the hall.

As soon as she entered her room you slammed your own door shut and locked it again. You went straight to your closet and got the red dress, folding it and tucking it into the bottom of your sock drawer.

Was she intentionally trying to piss you off? No. She couldn’t have known. No one could’ve known other than you and Anakin. You had been so careful, going out of town for a date at the drive-in while your mom was away on a business trip. You’d worn that dress for Anakin and only Anakin, and you’d never worn it since that night, that first night.

In your state of confusion you didn’t notice the sound of Anakin’s garage noise die down.

Anakin had stopped for a coffee break and came inside, finding his wife at the kitchen counter. He gave her a quick smile and and poured some black coffee into a big thermos.

“Sugar? ‘Sugar’?” She asked sweetly, sliding the large sugar canister across the countertop to him.

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked slowly as if trying to rewind her words. “Yeah okay thanks.”

He shook his head and shrugged, raising his eyebrows in concentrated thought as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. The only person who has *ever* said that to him is you. That’s such a weird coincidence… what are the chances? It’s not like you call him ‘sugar’ any other time either. Only ever for the sake of making him smile when he fixes his coffee.

“Well. I’ll be out here then.” He said awkwardly, still very much miffed by the odd comment.

She ‘mhm’d’ in response, enjoying watching him slink back into the garage with his cheeks tinted in shame.

By the time 5:30 rolled around Anakin was in a nice button-up and dress pants, looking absolutely exquisite. That man really knew how to wear… anything, and nothing too. You had to ogle him from afar, watching his cute butt in those well-fit pants as he walked out the door following closely behind your mother. Who was wearing your dress.

You made a mental note to find an industrial shredder to take care of that ruined fabric when she returned it.

At Marzetti’s dinner was going well, much better than Anakin had expected to be honest. It was almost nice, in a weird way. The food was good, the atmosphere was pretty… he couldn’t help but be startled every now and again when he glanced over and didn’t see you across the table from him. You’d love this place, and damn he’d love to see you in it. He just knew the lighting would show off those sexy bedroom eyes you *swore* you never knew when you were making.

The biggest downside was that this place was alittle too expensive to be wasted on your mother. This kind of luxury should be reserved for his princess.

After an hour’s worth of awkward small talk and stupid conversational questions, Anakin got up to use the restroom.

When he returned he was shocked to say the least. The table had been cleared and all that remained was the check, and a thick manila envelope, he hesitantly picked it up and tucked it under his arm.

Fast walking to the front of the restaurant he quickly paid, despite the hostess’s request for him to return to his table because ‘payment is collected at your seat’. He fumbled with his car keys and clicked the lock button to quickly locate his black vintage Camaro… no dice.

He stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot, spinning slowly and spotting his parking spot… where the car *should* have been.

“That bitch took my fucking Camaro.” He whispered to himself, internally screaming at himself for being a responsible adult and having a spare set of keys safely stashed away.

He already had an idea of what was in that envelope, but now he didn’t even need to look at the title page. He just needed a goddamn pen.

Final Part

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @bunnylovesani @offthethir/wall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee

@sweetcheesecakesblog@rga11 @luvskywxlker

@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled

@graveyard-stray

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag lists

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ohthethingswedoforlove · 6 months ago

Note

what would happen if the sextuplets get obsessed over the same person?

Warnings: yandere characters; vague descriptions of violence;

Oh, boy. To be honest, it will entirely depend on how civilised they're feeling at the moment.

Are they willing to "play fair"? To play along in pretending that they're all not bordering on committing some sort of felony, and see which one you'll naturally gravitate towards as they do their best to win you over? Well, at least they seem to be avoiding violence for the time being. As long as you're around, that is.

Maybe Choromatsu or Totty managed to sound convincing and reasonable enough when they suggested "friendly" competition. After all, they don't want to scare you away, right?

In that scenario, Todomatsu is probably going to win. He's the most well adjusted, and he's a prolific manipulator. Compared to the others, yeah, sweet and supposedly harmless Todomatsu surely seems like the best choice to hang around with. But that will also depend heavily on how you feel about his "cutesy" shtick, cuz if you find it annoying, then he might not be as lucky.

If Totty starts to struggle due to that, then most of them actually might get a fair shot. Osomatsu can make for fun company, but he's very trigger happy when it comes to throwing his brothers under the bus and will just feed every single dark secret about the others to you, no matter how much it might just upset you. And make you uncomfortable to be around him as well, as a result. But hey, who cares if you try to avoid him? Like he's gonna let you go far from him.

Jyushimatsu is actually pretty nice and definitely... Interesting, and has an unpredictability that makes the others wary of what he's capable of. You might find him endearing! Or scary. Who knows, they just kind of let things happen when Jyushimatsu takes the lead.

Choro... Well, actually he might not get that much of a chance if he's trying to do this naturally. Unless you're interested in a guy who spends most of his time shaking, stuttering and sweating when he's around you. Same with Ichi, just with the added flavor of him, most of the time, looking like he's about to kill someone. Or about to faint. Or both. But hey, maybe you're into that.

But does it really matter if they are willing to play nice for a bit, considering it's just a matter of time until one of them starts the inevitable chain reaction of them being at each other's throats?

Because once it starts, it's every man for himself, and they suddenly stop being mindful if you are there to see things get ugly or not. Eventually you're going to find out that they're all their own brand of bastard, either way. Might as well get the others out of the way in more effective ways while they're at it!

Once things get violent, and they will get violent, it basically comes down to who's willing to commit the biggest atrocity first. My money's on Ichi, considering Choro still desperately tries to keep face until his last strand of patience; and Ichi might actually be able to scare off the others. For a while.

Either way, Karamatsu is not winning.

They wouldn't let that happen, they'll suddenly have a surprising amount of coordination to team up and make sure he doesn't. It feels like a personal insult to them, if you even show signs that you might actually prefer him. But hey! Maybe the kicked puppy angle might work in his favor, who knows?

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere osomatsu #yandere osomatsu x reader #yandere choromatsu #yandere choromatsu x reader #yandere karamatsu #yandere karamatsu x reader #yandere ichimatsu #yandere ichimatsu x reader #yandere jyushimatsu #yandere jyushimatsu x reader #yandere todomatsu #yandere todomatsu x reader #yandere osomatsu san #yandere osomatsu san x reader #tw violence

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greenunoreversecard · 11 months ago

Note

Just general cole in a relationship?

A/N: sorry this took so long, I got sad. Also, the only way I convinced myself was the promised word vomit of general and romantic. So, whoops you get both.

Back in Black->Cole general and romantic hc

General:

Bro is a stoner.

Says it helps get him closer to his element.

Introvert irl, but has the biggest social media presence. (Faceless, obvi)

Half Korean

Has curly as fuck hair

Always tired (lowkey narcoleptic)

Allergic to pollen

Super chill. To the point someone could commit a felony in front of hi and he'll give prolly zero fucks

Ride or die fr

Likes to join kai in doing unhinged shit, but denies if caught by Wu.

Mlm demisexual. I cannot see him with a female. (Which is the only reason I'll write him on this blog, bc it's male/trans umbrella/masc gn readers)

Romantic:

Helpless romantic

Pulls out every stop

Super inexperienced, bc people thought he was really weird when younger, so he's super new and tries to copy the movies

Assure him you love him for him, and he'll calm a bit.

Def wants to boogie in the rain with you

Also: giving love language is Def gifts and acts of service. Hes also touchy, but not as much as expected. His receiving love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service/quality time.

He makes playlists for you

Also, he Def does granny crafts so expect to have a hand knit sweater at some point

Loves to see you in his clothes.

Hes lowkey a gym bro, so expect him to ask you a million times w/puppy eyes to join him at the gym

Very protective of you.

You guys have weekly self care days.

Sends good morning and goodnight texts

Cook with him! Another love language for him (giving or receiving) is cutting/preparing fruit or just feeding each other in general

He has prolly burnt water at some point, so you got the stove stuff, but he can chop really well so he's willing to chopy chop stuff for you.

Loves to cuddle and nap together.

I also feel like he loves to read to you, or be read to. I see him as a book worm kinda

Lets you do his makeup.

Kinda sucks at emotions (motherless) so he's bad with comfort and oftentimes is avoidant of conflict and emotion.

Hes also hyper-independant, so please reel him in when he's going on a streak of angry 'I don't need anyone I can survive by myself'..

He does need others. He's prolly just hungry. Get him some soup and a hug.

#greeny's inbox #ninjago #ninjago headcanons #ninjago fandom #lego ninjago #ninjago cole #ninjago x you #ninjago x reader #ninjago x male reader #Ninjago cole x reader #cole brookstone x reader #cole brookstone #X reader #X male reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #cole brookstone ninjago #Cole Brookstone x you

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barfygutcheck · 4 months ago

Text

sourdough starter snack

/recently found out that live yeast might ferment in the stomach for a while if large quantities of it are eaten. think noises, think expansion. so this fic happened. uhh/

Jackie’s dorm room was quiet, save for the hum of the AC and the rustle of pages turning as she sat in the living room, reviewing her notes. She had a tendency to stay up late cramming. It was just past midnight, and the dim glow of the kitchen light spilled into the living room.

Jackie had been so wrapped up in her studying, she hadn’t noticed the soft sounds of someone moving around in the kitchenette until she heard the faint scraping of a spoon against a bowl. She glanced up from her notebook, frowning slightly. An hour ago, Sawyer had settled on the couch (trying to be considerate of Jackie’s roommate), but it looked like her stomach decided otherwise — a thought Jackie couldn’t help but find stimulating.

It wasn’t unusual for Sawyer to raid the fridge late at night, considering her appetite, but checking on her anyways couldn’t hurt.

Jackie slipped out of bed, quietly padding down the hall. As she approached the kitchen, the sound of the spoon grew clearer. Jackie had a pretty good idea what she was about to find.

“Sully?” she called out, folding her arms over her chest.

“Hmm?” came a muffled response from the kitchen.

When Jackie turned the corner into the kitchen, her suspicion was confirmed. There, standing at the counter with a big mixing bowl clutched in one hand and a spoon halfway to her mouth, was Sawyer. Her eyes were glued to the bowl, completely oblivious to Jackie’s presence.

Jackie’s eyes widened when she saw the unmistakable texture and bubbles of leavening. The bowl wasn’t just any bowl. It was her sourdough starter — weeks of careful fermentation and feeding, gone, or at least half gone, if the looks of it were anything to go by.

“Oh my God, Sully. What are you doing?” Jackie blurted out, rushing forward.

Sawyer looked up, mid-chew, her cheeks full. She swallowed slowly, then grinned sheepishly, as if she hadn’t just committed what Jackie considered to be the culinary equivalent of a felony.

“Uh… hey, babe. Eating cookie dough… duh,” she mumbled through another bite, lifting the spoon and gesturing toward the bowl. “I didn’t know you made some. It’s pretty good, but kind of tangy. Want a bite?”

Jackie’s heart skipped a beat. Her brain stumbled over itself, trying to process what she was seeing as Sawyer scooped up another spoonful into her mouth. Cookie dough?

“That’s not cookie dough, that’s—” she said, her voice pitching higher with every word. She raked a hand through her hair, trying to figure out how to break the news. “That’s sourdough starter, Sully!”

Sawyer froze, spoon hovering halfway to her mouth, and blinked at Jackie. “Uh… what?”

Jackie rubbed a hand over her face, groaning. “It’s sourdough starter. It’s fermented! Not something you just eat… raw!”

Sawyer’s eyes darted to the bowl, then to the spoon, which she’d been licking, then back to Jackie. The confusion was clear on her face, but slowly, ever so slowly, it began to dawn on her that she might’ve seriously messed up.

“Wait…” Sawyer furrowed her brow. “So, it’s… not edible?”

“No! Well, I mean, not like that!” Jackie threw her hands up. “You don’t just eat it! It’s used to make bread rise. It’s filled with live cultures and bacteria—”

Sawyer flinched at the word “bacteria,” her gaze flicking to the bowl in her hands. “It’s alive?”

“Yeah, as in yeast! You’re supposed to let it ferment for days to make bread.” Jackie pressed a hand to her forehead. “How much did you eat?”

Sawyer placed the bowl down on the counter, eyeing the near-empty contents. She hesitated, then shrugged. “I dunno. Like, a lot?”

“A lot? Sully, that’s—” Jackie cut herself off, taking a deep breath. “Sully, that stuff expands when it’s heated up. Who knows how much of that is sitting in — in your stomach right now!”

Sawyer’s eyes shifted down to her stomach, which now seemed even more ominous with the knowledge of what was inside. She gulped, eyes widening. “It expands?”

“Yes. And I’m fairly sure it’s going to make you really sick if you’ve eaten as much as it looks like you have.”

Sawyer’s expression began to falter. A hand instinctively moved to rest on her abdomen, and for the first time that night, she looked genuinely worried. Her belly felt like a rock had dropped inside, pressing against her insides as it expanded.

“Uh… now that you mention it…” she said, her fingers prodding lightly against her belly. “I do feel kinda weird…”

Jackie watched. Typically, this kind of situation would have her blushing; Sawyer had a habit of overindulging and feeling the consequences. But this time, what she’d eaten wasn’t just a bad call — it could really upset her stomach. Jackie wasn’t aroused in the slightest, only concerned. “What kind of weird? Stomachache?”

Sawyer paused, her face scrunching up as she tried to gauge how she was feeling. “It’s not, like, painful. But it’s definitely feeling… off. Like, kinda tight. Heavy.”

As if her belly was starting to rise like dough. Like bread in an oven. Live yeast thrives in warm environments, and the human stomach is warm. Particularly Sawyer’s gut, since Sawyer was like a living, walking furnace, always overheating.

Jackie was already thinking through their options. Nothing in her two years of medical studies equipped her for a girlfriend who had mistaken sourdough starter for cookie dough, and she was unsure of what to do when that sourdough decided to fight back in her girlfriend’s belly. “Okay. Well, your body’s probably trying to process all that yeast. You just ate half a bowl of fermented dough, I mean, we need to keep an eye on this.”

Sawyer stared down at her stomach again, a flash of panic crossing her face. “Oh, crap. I thought it was cookie dough,” she pitifully blurted, as if saying it louder would make it somehow less of an issue.

Jackie shook her head, reaching out to gently push Sawyer into one of the kitchen chairs. “Alright, alright. Just sit down. You’ll wake Willow up.”

Sawyer plopped down into the chair, slowly rubbing circles over the front of her tank top. “I just saw food, and I thought—”

“You just saw food and thought, ‘must eat now,’” Jackie put in playfully.

Sawyer cracked a weak smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

Jackie stood up, fetching a glass of water and placing it in front of Sawyer. Even though Jackie had never seen Sawyer do anything this stupid before, she knew Sawyer had pulled some dumb stunts in the past. Jackie realized that all Sawyer needed was a little patience and attention, and she would bounce back like new. “Drink this. It might help a little.”

Sawyer obediently took the glass and sipped it slowly. She grimaced, glancing down at her stomach. It churned, making thick, sloshy sounds, and she could swear she felt it expand just a little more with each passing second. “Uh, Jackie, I think it’s getting worse.”

At this, Jackie’s eyes snapped to Sawyer’s midsection. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but Sawyer’s usually flat stomach did seem a little bloated, like it was already reacting to the mass of sourdough starter she had so thoughtlessly consumed. The sourdough starter wasn’t exactly the villain here — it was just doing its thing. And it must’ve been having a field day in Sawyer’s stomach, bubbling, fermenting the sugars and starches it could find.

It had taken weeks to build it up, feeding it daily, watching it grow into a thriving colony of yeast and bacteria, preparing it to make bread. And now, more than half of it was gone, sitting inside Sawyer’s stomach instead of turning into a fresh loaf.

“We need to get you to the bathroom,” Jackie said firmly, moving to her side.

Sully gave her a wide-eyed look. “You think I’m gonna be sick or something?”

“We’re not taking any chances.” Jackie grabbed her by the arm, pulling her gently toward the door — no easy feat when Sawyer had both the weight and height advantage at a full head taller.

A deep gurgle came from the depth of Sawyer’s stomach, echoing in the dim-lit hallway. “Oh man… I don’t feel so good…”

“Well,” Jackie muttered, helping her girlfriend out of the kitchen, “you did just eat a half gallon of live bacteria and flour — perhaps more.”

They hurried the rest of the way to the bathroom, where Jackie eased Sawyer down onto the floor beside the toilet.

Sawyer leaned against the cool tile, looking utterly miserable. Her face had lost its color, and her curls, damp with sweat, stuck to her forehead. She groaned softly, rubbing her taut belly. “I can’t believe I’m gonna throw up bread before it’s even bread.”

Jackie snorted despite herself. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“Next time,” Sawyer said, her voice weak, “just label your bowls.” She could feel the heavy, bloated weight pressing against her insides, sluggish, bubbling uncomfortably as if everything inside was expanding and shifting, trying to find a way out.

It was only a matter of time before it all came rushing back up.

Jackie patted her girlfriend’s knee. “I will. But next time, just ask before you go shoveling random stuff into your mouth, dumbass.”

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