#so it could be a thermostat or something. i don't know

[disdaidal]

I do love that I'm both freezing and having the worst back pains.

But at least I still have a roof above my head, right?

[turbo-enid]

I think one of the biggest things that make me homicidal is when my mother walks away and shuts the door while I'm talking.

[eyrieofsynapses]

kept finding our thermostat set to fucking 66°F, resetting it to 70° because what the fuck it's 20° outside, and then... found it set to 65°

this has been going on for like three weeks so finally decided to text housemate group chat and be like "hey so can we figure out a temperature that we can all agree on"

me and third housemate: prefer 70°-72°F and have been setting the thermostat as such

second housemate: is the one setting it to 66°F and, whenever it's set higher, is apparently opening her room windows in 20° weather because 70° is too warm and has not mentioned this to us, somehow

me and third housemate: ...okay we can deal with 68°

me, today, in my room, hands Absolutely Fucking Freezing, shivering, desperately wanting just one more degree of heat: ...maybe I should have let the thermostat wars continue to rage

anyway. evolution why the fuck did you make humans Like This

[l1tw1ck]

Simeon's Devotion

Sub!Bottom!FTM!Priest Simeon x Dom!Top!AMAB!Holy Knight Reader

Word Count: 2,410

Reverend Simeon, plagued by sinful thoughts of a certain holy knight, is suddenly struck with a high fever and abandons his God

AFAB Language Used | 2K Anniversary Request: For a Simeon Fic | [Breaking the Thermostat]

CW: Non-Con, Heavy Religious Themes, Dom/Sub, Virginity Loss, Bleeding, Size Difference, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Belly Bulge, Womb Fucking, Squirting, Creampie, Kidnapping

You knock loudly against Simeon’s doors, heavily injured. You hear the sound of shuffling and see the lights turn on inside. Moments later, he opens the door for you.

Simeon calls out your name in shock. “What happened to you?!” He helps you inside.

“Ran into some demons..” You murmur, sitting down on his couch. “Can you heal me?”

“Of course!” Simeon hastily removes your clothes, leaving you in just an undershirt and boxers. You're both already used to this. “How many this time?”

“I wanna say…30?” You watch him kneel down and use his divine powers on your wounds.

“30?! Did something attract them?”

“I’m not sure. I was on patrol and everything seemed normal. The monsters looked strange too. They all looked like distorted versions of God and they were muttering things like ‘sinner’ and ‘dirty’.” 

“That's strange..”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You reach to rub your temple but Simeon quickly heals your headache. “Could I have something to eat? I know you're probably tired so something like crackers would be fine.”

“You need to eat a real meal. I don't mind cooking for you. You can sleep over too, all your clothes are washed.” Simeon finishes your last wound and stands up. It's very common for you to sleep over at Simeon’s due to exhaustion since demons usually show up on the outskirts of town and you live a bit further away. “Think you can take a shower?”

You stand up and groan, the sound making Simeon twitch. “I think so. Thanks, Simeon.”

“God must be disappointed in you. So much for being a priest.” You say, staring at Simeon. He’s wearing sexy see through lingerie and an extravagant matching sheer silk robe. His legs are spread and he’s leaning against his bed frame. His tears are glistening against his cheeks, they’re shining like glitter. “You're nothing but a dirty sinner.” You move his panties aside.

Simeon looks at you, batting his eyelashes. Another tear falls down his cheek. “You’re my god now.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re mine.” You slowly begin to ease your cock inside him. “And I’m yours.” You press your hand against his pelvis, a pretty marking appearing on it.

Simeon suddenly wakes up moaning your name with his hand stuffed in his underwear. He gasps and yanks it out. He quickly wipes his hand on his clothes and begins to pray. “Please deliver me from temptation.” He repeats the same phrase over and over but as his body begins to grow hot, his prayer becomes strange.

“Please give me [Name]’s cock–” Simeon gasps and covers his mouth. “No…Forgive me— I need his co—” He covers his mouth again. He can't talk. He attempts to pray silently but that doesn't work either. It just makes him feel even more horny.

He begins to absentmindedly remove all of his clothes, his hands moving on their own to touch his wet pussy. He leans back, eyes out of focus, and begins to touch himself but he doesn't really know how. He just rubs his folds, which feel extremely sensitive. “I’m…I’m a sinner..” He mumbles, still out of it. “And a slut.”

“Only [Name] will accept me now.” Simeon brings his hand up to his tattoo and presses on it, a wave of pleasure flowing through him. 

He stumbles out of the bed and drunkenly walks to his guest room, where you’re sleeping. Knocking didn't cross his mind as he opened the door. 

“Si- Simeon?” You ask sleepily, sitting up. “Is something wrong?” You can't tell that he's naked. You move to sit on the side of the bed and squint at him.

“Yes..” He says quietly, stepping towards you. He kneels in between your legs. “I need you.”

“What?!” You recoil. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk.” Simeon presses kisses along your legs down to your feet. “I’ll do anything you want, [Name]. Anything.”

“I think you need to drink some water…you're not thinking straight.” You get off of the bed. As you try to head towards the door, Simeon stops you.

“I don’t need water, I need you.” He pulls you closer, he’s somehow stronger than before, and forces you into a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to pass on his ‘fever’ to you. Heat rushes through your body as your rational thoughts dispel like bubbles. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly. 

“Simeon...” You hold his chin, speaking with a loving tone. “How beautiful.” You mumble. He moans your name breathily.

“Kneel for me.” You order. Simeon kneels once again. You pull down your shorts and boxers at the same time. His eyes widen, hearts forming in them, when he sees your thick length. The process of becoming a Holy Knight can alter someone's body in major ways but he never knew it could change by this much. “Open your mouth.” You run your fingers through his hair.

Simeon opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside it. His mouth is unbelievably hot. He can feel the corners of his lips stretching to fit you. The thought of you stretching his pussy open next makes him moan. He stares into your eyes as you begin to thrust. You're sure they're glowing. 

“Your mouth feels amazing.” You moan. Simeon moans as well. “‘S perfect for me..” You speed up your thrusts. He happily allows you to fuck his mouth. He closes his eyes and focuses on your voice. He’s so aroused it's becoming painful.

You tighten your grip on his hair as your thrusts become unruly and desperate. He looks at you again, this time with tears in his eyes. But the tears aren't because he’s upset. “You look so pretty when you cry.” You groan as you come inside his mouth. You slowly pull away as Simeon swallows your seed without hesitation. You're still hard and you both want more. You pick him up and slam him onto the bed. Somehow, the both of you are able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it has something to do with the glow in your eyes.

You spread his legs and smile at how wet he is. The marking on his lower stomach glows faintly as you physically observe his pussy with your fingers. He squirms around cutely. You kneel in between his legs, mirroring what he did earlier, and bury your face into his pussy. Simeon moans. “Yes– oh- yes~!” He sucks in a breath. “[Name]~!” It's like he's ascended to heaven. 

You drag your tongue up to his clit and gently suck on it. It quickly and unnaturally swells in your mouth. It feels like he’s stuck on the edge of an orgasm, although it feels good nonetheless. You slip a finger into his hole and then another when you realize how easily it entered him, despite his tightness. “Ooh- oh, [Name]~” Simeon squeezes your fingers tightly as you attempt to finger him. The constant flexing of his walls make it difficult to move them but you don't mind. You’re more interested in how that’ll feel when you fuck him.

He can tell he's not going to come from this. He's not sure why, it feels like there's something blocking him from doing so. “Put…put your cock inside me, please~”

You smile and move away, standing back up. “Of course, my love.” You lick your lips and line up your cock with his pussy, slowly coating your tip with his slick. He bites down on his lip and uncontrollably twitches as you begin to sink into his sopping warmth. He throws his head back and grips the bed sheets while moaning shamelessly. You're barely inside him. His entire pussy is throbbing so heavily, it's almost like a second heartbeat. Blood soon spills from your penetration. 

The true representation of his sin.

He moans your name with his enchanting voice. Your cock ‘knocks’ on his cervix and strangely enough, it seems to be allowing your entrance. Like it wants you to enter his womb. You don't think about how that should be impossible and slide further inside him. “It feels– feels so—” He gasps, squirting. His eyelashes are fluttering rapidly.

“There you go, baby. Come for me.” You rub his clit with your thumb. He writhes around, no longer squirting but his cunt’s still squeezing you like crazy. He isn't able to think about anything at all, his brain is overloaded. The outline of his tattoo is becoming a bright blue. “Good boy…keep going.” You praise him.

Simeon wants to say your name again but he is completely unable to speak.

“Let’s make up for all your years of abstaining.” You start to thrust. He slowly comes back down to earth with each thrust you make. 

“Ah–” His eyes are sparkling with tears. “You’re so big…stretching me out~” 

“That’s right, I’m making your pussy fit the shape of my cock.” You slowly rub the bulge on his stomach, fucking him at a slow pace. “Your body’s gonna remember me and only me.”

“That's– that’s all I want~” Simeon moans. “Only you~”

“So pretty…” You brush his hair out of his face. He looks like a painting. You bring your hands to his waist and slowly build up to a faster pace. He reaches for you so you lean in. He wraps his arms around you.

“I love you.” He says in a shaky tone.

“I love you too.” You look into his eyes. For a brief moment, he realizes this isn't the real you, then he brushes it off. He feels strange. “My sweet Simeon.” You kiss him. The bed starts rocking due to your quickened thrusts. You separate from the kiss, some saliva dripping down his lip.

He looks down and notices the marking on his womb is glowing and the same color as his eyes. His desire has been satisfied. It’s all over. He looks up at you, suddenly shaking like a scared rabbit. The artificial light flickers out like a used lightbulb. He can't see you clearly anymore. The only lights are the glow in your eyes and the faint moonlight. “[Name]?” He asks.

“Hm?”

You're still…you’re not aware like he is. He suddenly feels disgusting. He forced you into this. Even if he wasn't completely conscious. He should tell you to stop, but he doesn't want to. Is it so wrong to want a little more? “I…I-” He stutters. “Come- come inside~” If he can't have you, maybe he can have a part of you.

You kiss his cheek. “Of course.” You come inside of him only moments later. It feels like he forced it out of you. You look at him with an exhausted but happy expression before passing out on top of him. He doesn't try to move you.

You slowly wake up. You look around the room and notice a stain on the floor that you didn't notice before. And your bedsheets seem to be different too. You also feel a little strange. Refreshed, but strange. You get up and leave the guest room. You can smell coffee so you go down to the kitchen. “You're up pretty early. Don't you usually sleep in on Tuesdays?”

Simeon shrugs, not looking at you. “I felt like getting up early today.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything today. Maybe I’ll make breakfast this time?”

“It's okay. I’ll make it.”

“If you insist.” You know you can't convince him otherwise. “I wanna do something for you though. You deserve a gift.”

“Protecting my town is more than enough.”

“You’ll never change, huh?” You chuckle. “You know, the bed sheets look different from last night. Am I crazy?”

Simeon breaks the mug in his hand. You shoot up from your chair and rush over to him.

“I- I’m okay.” Simeon heals himself. “There wasn't anything in it yet.” 

“Good. You…seem weird today.” You notice he's not making eye contact with you.

“I..” He presses his forehead onto your chest and frowns, tears forming in his eyes. “I did something horrible last night.”

“What do you mean?” You bring him into a hug and gently rub his back to comfort him.

“Please…please don't hate me.”

“How could I hate you?”

“Last night…something strange came over me. I wasn't fully in control of myself and I forced you to…to..” He begins to sob.

“Simeon?” You ask, concerned.

“I forced you to have intercourse with me!” He blurts out, pulling away from you. He turns around and doesn't look at you.

You pause. “It must’ve been the work of a demon. It's okay, it's not your fault. It wasn't my ‘first time’ but…was it yours?”

Simeon’s eyes widen. “That wasn't your first?”

“No.”

He bites down on his nail. “When?”

“Um…maybe a decade ago?”

“Before you became a knight? And you haven't since then?”

“...Yes.” You assume he's uncomfortable due to his beliefs.

Simeon sighs. You were ‘reborn’ during your ceremony so you’re technically a virgin but you still have the experience. “Are you going to remain celibate?”

“I…well, I hope to find someone in the future. To marry, of course.”

“Oh.” He clenches his fist. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in?”

“I suppose I’ve caught a liking to Solomon, he—”

Simeon whips his head around. The look in his eyes is scary. “No.” He grabs your shirt. “No. You can't. You can't leave me.”

“Simeon?” You look at him in disbelief.

“I…I’m not letting you leave.”

Simeon looks at you sleeping peacefully on his bed. He isn't sure how, but he caused you to pass out and he was able to carry you here. He didn't even break a sweat. Due to a holy knight’s ability to neutralize certain forms of demon magic, Simeon is sure he isn't using that as you would've been fine if he was. But that leaves more questions to be answered.

He slides his hand down to his lower stomach and touches the glowing blue mark on his womb. It hasn't gone away. What is it? If it's not demonic then is it holy? How could this be holy?

He gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry, but I can't allow you to leave.”

You’ll be missed in the order of the holy knights but no one will worry when Simeon tells everyone he has bigger plans for you.

[pipwritesoccasionally]

two little lines

toji x reader

in which you find out that you're pregnant and fear toji's reaction.

because of pregnancy this is technically an AFAB!reader, but I did my best to keep it gender neutral. though I did use the pet name "doll" (sorry it feels so toji), and I don't exactly know if it's gender neutral.

despite this technically being AFAB, if you're AMAB and want to read I am not here to yuck your yum.

wc: 1551

look at me mixing it up with a toji fic after three straight nanami fics!

parts: 2 3 4 5

______________________________________________________________

two little lines. all it took to seemingly destroy your entire life was two little lines on a pregnancy test. 

sure, it had been two months since your last period, and sure, you were in a long-term relationship, so pregnancy was something that was technically plausible. however, you just couldn’t fathom how you had been so careless. i mean, having two kids was enough, but a third? 

no, your husband was definitely going to leave you, and the thought of it made your heart clench. 

‘fuck,’ you thought, vision blurring. ‘everything is just going to end because of two stupid fucking pink lines?’ 

you’re lucky toji was off on some other random bounty hunt, giving you time to hide the test before going to pick megumi and tsumiki up from school. the floorboards creak as you run to the kitchen, throwing the test in the box with your favorite snacks, knowing toji would never look inside it.  

silence fills the house, creating a sharp juxtaposition with the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. there has to be some way to calm down before going to get your stepkids. you tried everything you could think of, from splashing cold water on your face to walking around to holding an ice cube in your hand, until eventually you got to a point where you felt like you could pretend. 

keys, wallet and stress in hand, you got in the car and headed to their elementary school. the kids were there, standing on the curb, and you waved as you approached. there seemed to be an argument before tsumiki opened the passenger-side door, megumi grumbling as he slid into the backseat. 

“how was school?” you asked, and the kids scrambled to talk about what they learned, from the different types of clouds to their times-tables. 

“it was super fun and the teacher said that we have a new project coming up about the types of clouds! we get to make diaramas of them and it sounds really fun!” tsumiki exclaims, the smile evident in her voice. 

“that does sound fun! you’ll have to tell your dad all about it when he gets home,” you feel your brows furrow at the mention of toji, but you quickly resume your role of the happy guardian so as not to cause any problems. 

the house comes into view minutes later, and megumi runs inside. you turn to get out before tsumiki sighs softly. 

“wait,” she says, and you turn to her. “is something wrong?” 

‘curse her for being so observant,’ you think, but you shake your head quickly. 

“nothing for you to worry about, just worried about your father, as always,” which technically is not a lie, just not fully the truth. 

“oh, well you know that he’ll be okay! he’ll be back and then he’ll stomp around the house talking about those ‘damn sorcerers’-” tsumiki deepens her voice to imitate her father, but you stop her. 

“hey! watch your language!” she opens the door and runs inside, laughing the whole way, and you smile softly. you really do love those kids, even if they aren’t yours by blood. 

the house is cold when you enter, and you make your way towards the thermostat. however, before you can even turn the temperature up, a sour taste climbs up your throat. you feel sweat drench your brow, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re going to throw up. 

you run up the stairs, throwing yourself in front of the toilet to empty your stomach. footsteps pad up the stairs, and you feel a little hand rubbing against your back. 

“(y/n)? are you sure you’re okay?” tsumiki’s soft voice brought tears to your eyes, more running down your cheeks as you retched. it took a minute or two to get everything out of your system before you sit back on your heels. 

“sorry, i guess i’m a little sick. we should have some microwavable meals in the fridge, do you think you could make some food for you and megumi?” she nods, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. 

‘he’s going to find out soon,’ you worry, brushing your teeth to rid the awful taste from your mouth. ‘i guess i should get some rest so i don’t have to face him when he comes home.’ 

you sink into your shared bed, blankets reaching out to hug your body, and you drift off to sleep. 

the bed sinks, pulling you out of your slumber. you begin to turn to face your husband before you’re reminded of the events from earlier. your pulse is rapid, and you think about pretending that you’re still asleep before toji speaks. 

“hey doll. ‘miki said that you weren’t feeling well earlier. you’re not hurt, are you? i can handle whoever it is for you.” you smile at the softness he only displays for you, but how can you explain that the person causing you stress is none other than him?

“i’m okay. it’s probably food poisoning or something. you did cook dinner last night,” he frowns, groaning lowly. 

“i’m not that bad. the brats said it was fine enough,” you laugh at him, burrowing into the blankets. your husband slides his shirt over his head, revealing his broad shoulders riddled with muscles and scars. mindlessly, you reach out to caress him softly, and he slides into bed beside you. while normally you’d ask to lay on his chest, you’re worried being that close would make him aware of your irregular pulse. 

“goodnight babe,” you say, curling back into yourself and closing your eyes, knowing that if you look at him now his confusion would cause the truth to tumble out. 

“night doll,” he hesitates, weight settling in on the other side of the bed. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you wake up to a quiet house, something that sets you off immediately. two elementary school aged kids does not bode well for a quiet house, and so you sit up, reaching to your right to find toji’s side of the bed cold to the touch. 

‘okay, something’s up.’ 

you walk down the stairs to the kitchen, calling out for the kids, only to see that their shoes aren’t by the door. toji’s in the kitchen, looking through the fridge. 

“hey babe, where are the kids?” you normally get them off to school, but it seems that maybe you’d slept in late. 

“they’re at school,” he says shortly, taking you aback. 

“okay. sorry i slept in, i must have been really tire-” you stop when you step into the kitchen, seeing your positive pregnancy test on the counter. the whole world freezes, and you can feel everything crashing down. 

“oh that? yeah, it was weird. i tried to bring your favorite snack to you in bed when the box was making a weird sound. found that at the bottom.” he gestures haphazardly, cracking the dam holding the next wave of your anxiety back. 

“it’s a friend’s-”

“don’t bullshit me. were you even going to tell me?” his voice is low, eyes piercing. 

“toji-” 

“were. you. going. to. tell me.” he enunciates. 

“i didn’t know how! i mean seriously, you have two kids to worry about, the last thing you need is a fucking baby! i get it, it’s over. i’ll go get my shit,” tears are running down your cheeks as you tear out your heart with your bare hands. you turn to leave, making your way upstairs, when a hand grabs your wrist softly. 

“wait–doll. fuck.” he turns you to face him. “you don’t have to leave.” 

“of course i fucking do. should probably go now before the kids get back. i don’t want them involved.” you take another step, but his grip remains firm. 

“i said you don’t have to leave. the brat’s mine too.” 

“wait. you want to keep it?” he looks to the side, rubbing his other hand against his neck. 

“of course i fucking do,” he mirrors, and your eyes widen. 

“you mean…you’re not mad?” 

“i’m mad you didn’t tell me, not about the brat.” your eyes water, and before you know it you’re sobbing into his chest. 

“what is this all about? you really have such a low opinion of me to think i’d kick you out?” his voice rumbles through his chest against your ear. 

“you’re just so busy, and i thought…i thought that you would be mad,” you sob even harder, not knowing where the emotions end and hormones begin. 

“so what? i’d just kick you to the curb?” 

“i mean, you have two kids already…maybe a third would be too much.” he starts to chuckle, causing you to pull away from him. 

“what’s so funny?” 

“that you seriously thought i’d kick you out. i don’t break promises, doll, and marriage is just a big promise. besides, you’d probably get custody of the brats. they like you more than me.” 

you run your hands over your face before reaching out to play with his hair. 

“you’re really not mad?” you repeat, and he rolls his eyes.

“no dumbass. besides, i can’t let any other men see how hot you are carrying my kid.” you snort, circling your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

“love you, toji.” 

“love you too, doll.” he says, your lips meeting.

[lokigodofmyheart]

RED FLOWER

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 1.939

Summary: Tony and Y/N went to a mission together.

Warning/Content: smut, sex pollen

MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Rogers said the base was abandoned and there was no reason to go the whole team, so Y/N and Tony were the chosen ones to go. As they stepped off the jet and walked to the base, they were meet with a field of red flowers. 

“This is...odd.” Y/N says as they walk in the grass. 

“Seems like every HYDRA base we've raided. But I agree, kinda weird to have a garden.” Tony picked one up in his hand. 

Y/N looked at him, rolling her eyes “Really? You’re picking the weird HYDRA flower?” 

“It's a flower. Not gonna hurt me.” Stark says, looking at the flower in his hand and then at her “You worry too much...” He brought the flower closer and sniffed it “It smells nice.” 

“Don’t smell the flower, Stark!!” Y/N could not believe he was doing that. Was he stupid or something? “What if it’s poisonous?” 

Stark rolled his eyes looking at her “Nothing is going to happen, relax. You're being paranoid.” 

“It’s HYDRA, I’m not being even enough paranoid.” 

Tony laughs as they kept waking to get in the base, with the flower on his hand “You really think they'd make a flower that kills people? That's a little ridiculous.” he teased, waving the flower in front of her face.  

She pushes his hand away from her face. He was right, the flower did smell nice “I swear, if I die because you made smell a flower...”  

“You will not die.” he shoved it into her face, chuckling. Y/N, again, pushed his hand away from her face. 

“Let’s get over with this mission, I’m feeling a creepy vibe from here.” She says, as they kept waking. Inside of the base, most of the floor was covered in grass and the same flower.  

“Did they decide to start a flower shop or something?” he said as he looked at the sea of flowers in front of them. Stark had to admit that Y/N was right, that seems creepy. 

Y/N took a deep breath while they walk. The whole place smelled like the flower “Something’s not right here, Stark...the base is abandoned and full of flowers?” 

“You won’t die because of those flowers.” Tony says, rolling his eyes once again. 

“But what if we do?”  

“You won’t. We won’t. Relax. It’s creepy, but they won’t kill us.”  

They started to walk more into the base, checking the rooms, but all they found was empty places, totally abandoned and again, full of flowers. As they kept checking, they start feeling the temperature rising.  

Tony was the first one to speak “Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?” 

“No, it’s hot...” Y/N noticed thermostat on the wall, and when she saw it was the same temperature that before, she found even weirder “Huh...” 

Stark pulled a little at the neck of his shirt, a bit uncomfortable “Yeah, something is definitely wrong.” 

Finally, they found a room that wasn’t empty, just abandoned. There was a few computers and papers. Y/N looked at Tony “Let’s see if we find anything so we can go.” Tony agreed, going to check the computers, but none of them worked. He was getting more and more frustrated with this mission.  

Y/N kept looking at the papers in front of her, until she found something. It wasn’t good. Not even a little. “Uh...Tony?” 

“Yeah?” He says, getting closer to her. 

“What exactly are you feeling?” 

“I don't know... hot? Really uncomfortable...” he mumbled, tugging at his pants. Y/N looked at the paper and then back at him, and her face wasn’t good. “What is it?” 

“So...that flower is the reason this place is abandoned. According to these papers here, they tried to make one and they started multiplying faster than they could control...” 

“And...?” Tony looks at her curiously, he knew that was more. 

“And this flower release an... aphrodisiac pollen...” 

“What?” he paused, looking at her confused “Are you telling me these flowers release a... sex pollen?” 

Y/N nods, looking at the paper “Oh, and hear that. They kill you if you try to resist the effects.” She glares at him. “Who would thought the weird flower at HYDRA base would kill us...” 

Tony took a deep breath, assimilating the new information “Okay, so maybe you were right...” 

“Maybe??” 

“Don't rub it in.” he mumbled, feeling hotter by the second “This thing works stupidly fast too...” 

She nods, agreeing “We’re still exposed to the pollen. We have to get out of her and go back to the compound, maybe Bruce can think of something...” 

Stark nodded, trying to control himself as they started to walk towards the exit. Every step he took was a struggle “Sounds good. God, I feel like I had a whole pack of Viagra.” Y/N chuckles, but she wasn't feeling any better than him. Walking got very difficult to Tony as he started to get increasingly more uncomfortable and his mind started to wander. He started to look at Y/N bit too often, trying to ignore the thoughts he was having. 

It didn't take long for them to reach the jet, and as soon they were in, Y/N was already speaking “JARVIS, home. Now.” 

“JARVIS, how long until we get home?” Was Tony’s time to ask. 

“Forty minutes, Mr. Stark.”  

“Forty minutes?” he groaned, getting more uncomfortable. His jeans were feeling very tight, and he could feel his cock already hard enough and throbbing with need. Y/N didn't miss the tent on his pants. She was having trouble with how drenched her panties were and seeing Tony that hard wasn’t helping her need. 

He was trying not to move too much, but the uncomfortable feeling was starting to get really bad. He wanted, no, NEEDED to do something “Turn around.” 

“What?” Y/N was already out of breath, the arouse making hard for her to think of anything. 

“Just, turn around.” he said in a deeper, raspy voice. 

“That won’t help and you know it.” 

Tony groaned, feeling more frustrated” I know. But I need to do something, so please, just turn around.” he begged with a very obvious plead in his voice. 

Y/N did what he wanted. She could hear when he opened his pants and when it fell to the ground. She could hear the low moan he let when he touched his cock and she could hear in the silent jet the sound of his hand masturbating himself. She tried to do the same, opening her pants and letting her hand slide in her folds. Her panties were already ruined when she starts touching herself. It didn’t help. Not her, not Tony. If anything, just made them feel even worse. 

“This isn’t helping...” Tony says, breathing hard already, still stroking himself. 

“No...” Y/N answers with her hands still in her pants. 

He took a deep breath “God, why is this taking so long? JARVIS, how much time?” 

“Thirty minutes, sir.” Came the electronic voice. 

Tony closed his eyes, taking a deep breath again “Okay...thirty minutes...we can survive thirty minutes, right?” 

“We won’t.” Y/N sighs “We will burn from inside out and when we land, we will be already dead...” 

He swallowed hard, the thoughts going through his head were making everything worse “I need to- need to do something...” 

“The only way is if we fuck.” 

“Well, I ain't arguing with you there.” he said with a slightly deeper voice, very clearly struggling to stay still and control himself “Come over here...” 

Y/N didn't need to be told twice. She turns back to him, seeing his cock free and hard and walked to him. He groaned the second she was close enough, feeling his heart racing. He put his hand on her hips and pulled her on him, making Y/N fall straddling him. He bit his lip to control himself, putting his arms around her waist as he moved involuntarily his hips. 

She let out a soft moan, not wasting any time to undress him. It was a blurry as they took each other’s clothes and, in a minute, she was naked on his lap, feeling his cock brushing against her pussy. He groaned feeling her wetness on him, before he let his lips find her neck and started kissing a sensitive spot. A low moan came out of her lips, and her hips involuntarily rocked against his, needing the friction. 

He started to pant, kissing the sensitive spot a bit harder while he holding her hips in a firm grip, starting to guide her movements as he was getting impatient. 

“Tony...I need you.” She says in a moan. 

“I need you too...” he panted, moving his hand on the back of her thigh to support her as he stands up and back her on the jet wall. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her on the wall. He looked at her one last time to make sure she was okay.  

Y/N gave him a small nod and Tony didn’t waste any time to align himself with her entrance and slowly entering her. She let out a moan and Tony groans, the feeling much more intense than any sex they had before because of the pollen. 

Tony looked at her, watching her reaction as he pulled almost all out and then in. Y/N moans again. He tried to be slow at first, but the pollen was making so hard that without noticing, he was thrusting on her hard and fast, losing the gentleness, grabbing her hips a little harder. 

His mouth found the spot on her neck again, sucking on the skin. He had his mind going blank, everything he could focus on was the pleasure he was feeling and how good she felt around him. 

“Tony...” She moans his name “I-I’m...” 

He knew what she wanted to say. Hell, he could feel her tightening around him already “Cum for me...”. Y/N barely holds another second before she clenched around his cock, making Tony moan at the feeling. She arched her back from the wall was she moans his name.  

Her orgasm and the pollen made it for him. He came right after her, holding her even tighter on his body and thrusting on her as he rides out his climax. Tony collapsed back on the seat, keeping Y/N's leg around him. They were breathing hard after the intense sex they had, but now they didn't feel the pollen anymore. It worked. Tony was trying to breath normally again, still having her on his lap.  

He ran his fingers through her hair, while he looked at her “God...that felt good...” Y/N only nods, not trusting her voice after that intense orgasm she had. “You okay?” he asked, pulling her hair out of her face. 

Y/N nodded again “...you?” 

“Yeah...yeah...I'm good...” he smiled a little, pulling her a bit closer “Tired as hell, but good.” 

“Sir, we’ll be landing in five.” JARVIS says, interrupting their moment. 

He nodded “Thanks, Jarvis...We better get dressed, before the rest of the team sees us like this.” Y/N gave him a nod, before she pulled herself out of him, still feeling her legs a little weak. Tony looked at her and chuckled, not even trying to hold back his smirk “Your legs are shaking, huh?” 

“That was the pollen, not you.” She says to tease him while they got dressed. 

Tony walked to her with a lust in his eyes I’m more than welcome to prove you wrong when we land.” 

“Your room or mine?” She smirks. 

He returned the smirk “Mine.” 

[strang3lov3]

Boys Will Be Boys

You hit Roman where it hurts. Meaning you fuck his dad as he watches and cries.

Tags - dubcon, girthy age gap (80/???), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, creampie, masturbation, sexual harassment/assault (Roman’s punished for it, and I kept it short and sweet), unsolicited dick pics, roman roy gets cucked by his father, osteoarthritis, hypertension, logan roy dirty talk, logan roy takes viagra, coercion, tears and mucus as lube, almost?subby?romey??? lowkey...logan roy is kinda a fuckin' stud. uhhhhh…idk. kinda grotesque. you have to embrace it. crack fic adjacent, but this is serious business to me. you’ve been warned.

A/N - you know what you’re fucking here for. maybe it’s morbid curiosity. maybe you wanna see roman roy crying while masturbating. maybe…maybe you wanna fuck that old man. it’s ok if you do. i won’t tell on you, you fucking pervert. enjoy Logan Roy screwing your brains out <3 I tagged my romey readers, and while i implore you to be brave, don't feel pressured to read if it's not your thing. @beefrobeefcal thank you for the beta hot stuff! i love you so much.

It’s been happening for a while now.

It was just small things at first. A little comment here and there. He told you that you had nice legs the first time you wore a skirt, said something else about loving a long-legged woman. Then he asked if you shaved for him, too. What else do you shave, huh? Are you bare everywhere? 

The little tattoo on your wrist, usually hidden by your blouse. What’s that about? Got any other tattoos? Perhaps in a more private place? If I guess where it’s at, can I see it?

Oh, the way you got flustered. Your eyes went wide, mouth dropped open a little. Too easy. Roman took that as a challenge - an invitation, rather, to take it up a notch. 

He turned up the heat in his office to a balmy 75℉ the week after that. After each time you’d turn the thermostat down a few notches, Roman would use a little remote he’d point at it to turn it right back up. Must be busted, Roman told you. How about you call maintenance, huh, assistant? Maybe do your fucking job for once?

Roman watched with a crooked smirk on his lips as you slipped off your cardigan, exposing your body to him. That pretty nude camisole. Roman sidled up behind you, fingers skating over your shoulders until he reached the strap of your bra. Your blood went cold as he wriggled his fingers beneath them, then pulled up, up, and snickered as he let them snap your skin harshly. Nobody else had done that to you since junior high.

In the elevator, he stands too close. While riding up the many floors of the tall building, Roman fucking breathes on you, and follows you when you inch away from him. Your skin prickles when he touches your lower back, fingers drumming against you, walking down your waist. He’d first started by testing you with a little pinch on your ass cheek, just to watch you jump and hear that startled little squeak you’d make. He gropes your ass now, squeezing a handful of it, kneading his fingers. He loves the visible discomfort on your face, and knowing you can’t do a goddamn thing about it. Harrassing you is the best part of Roman’s job. It’s why he wakes up in the morning, getting to exert that power over you. It fills him with a sick sense of satisfaction, of delight. 

Your phone is full of photos of his cock. Lawsuit material, if you were brave enough to go up against Roman and Waystar and all of its bells and whistles. Roman tells you his lawyers would eat you alive before you even step foot into a courtroom. 

It was late last Saturday night when Roman texted you a picture of his crotch, cock visibly hard under his slacks, outlined in sharp detail.

10:07 - Got a job for you. Wanna help out the boss?  

Every notification on your phone with Roman’s name attached makes you want to puke. You wish you could ignore him. Block him.

10:07 - No, Roman. 

You waited with bated breath for Roman’s response, the little dancing ellipsis on the screen mocking you as he formulated a text back. How’s he gonna make your day worse this time?

10:08 - Funny how quickly a job can disappear.

Fuck it. Whatever. You sent him as modest of a nude photo as you could muster - panties and bra on, face cropped out. 

10:12 - Cute. Smile this time. Lose the underwear. 

10:32 - Leaving me on read wont work. Nice try tho

10:33 - Five minutes. Don’t make me wait

You sighed in frustration as you stripped, then snapped a photo from above. Legs crossed to hide your pussy, your forearm covering your chest.

10:35 - *fire emoji*

10:35 - *As in I’ll fire you. 

10:35 - Bare tits. Bare ass. Bare pussy. Do it now

With no choice but to comply, and with an awful feeling in your gut, you took more photos. First of your tits, then your ass. Sent and sent. 

10:38 - Forgetting something?

It made you feel even more sick, but you needed him off your back. You spread your legs, pointed the front-facing camera at your cunt, and took the photo, then sent it to Roman. 

10:45 - I bet you’re so tight. Are you wet right now? 

10:45 - Yeah

Playing along. 

10:47 - I wanna be inside you

10:47 - Gonna cover you in my cum

Roman went quiet for a while then, probably ten minutes before texting you back. 

10:58 - I wanna watch you cum for me. 

10:59 - I’ll know if you fake it

He made you send him videos of you masturbating, all different camera angles, different positions. He kept you up until almost three, making yourself come over and over for him. Until he could hear you crying in the videos, your thighs trembling. It was horrible - humiliating, exhausting, so fucking dehumanizing. He sent you pictures of an old cardigan of yours covered in his come at the end of the whole thing. You thought you lost it.

It’s Monday afternoon now. You have a bad feeling when you walk to Roman’s office, seeing that the blinds are drawn over the large glass panes of his windows. You let yourself into the room at his request, and Roman’s sitting on his little gray couch, legs spread wide. He’s palming his bulge, eyes following you as you close the door. You avoid making eye contact with him, something that only serves to challenge him. He straightens, then wordlessly pats the seat next to him. 

“I have those files you asked for, Roman.” 

“Oh, that’s great. That’s really, yeah - awesome. Set ‘em down.” 

You set them on the coffee table, then anxiously drum your fingers on your lap. You steal the littlest glance at Roman sitting next to you; his thumb mindlessly stroking where the hard head of his cock presses against his slacks. 

A heavy silence falls as you process what’s inevitably coming next. Roman unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his pants, then unzips them. He rests his head against the couch as he pulls out his cock, then looks right at you. A lazy smirk pulls at the corner of his lips and his eyes are lidded, darkened with lust in a way that makes him look like an animal. 

Roman lets out a little giggle at the nervous way you fidget your hands. He takes one in his own, holding tightly onto your wrist when you try and pull it back. “Hang on - wait. I like your nails. Pretty, very pretty, sweetheart. I think they’d look nice wrapped around my cock, don’t you?”

You bunch your fingers in a fist, attempting to pull your wrist out of his grip. “N-no, I don’t, Rom–”

“Oh, come on. That’s why you got ‘em fuckin’ done, right?” Roman uses his other hand to pry your fingers open. “Hey, open your fucking - there we go.” He lowers your hand, pressing your palm against his warm package, and his cock looks smaller in person. Just as upsetting, though. 

Roman lets out a quiet, soft groan of pleasure, then turns frustrated when you pull away again. He snaps his fingers at you, “Hey - assistant girl. Isn’t this your job, right? To assist?”

A knock at Roman’s office door has him jumping, and you take the opportunity to get away from him entirely. You leave Roman on that couch, and he’s cursing you under his breath while quickly tucking his cock back into his trousers, watching you do your quick little half-jog out of his office. Fine, be that way. You’ll fucking get it later. 

You don’t have a plan in mind when you begin walking, you just leave. Looking over your shoulder to see if Roman’s following behind you, if he’ll grab you by the forearm and drag you into a supply closet. Do god only knows what to you. Probably fuck you with the end of some maintenance man’s mop.  

You find yourself knocking at Logan’s door, then exhale a shaky breath. You’re not…you’re not sure what you’re doing here. What you’re gonna tell him, if you’re gonna tell him anything. It’s not like he’d do anything about it, right? Logan eyes you through the window, then calls you inside with just a simple wag of his fingers. He looks annoyed, fuck. But when does he not?

Logan’s room is large, and you’re not entirely sure how to navigate, which feels silly. Sounds even sillier to say. You’re not often alone with Logan, and the proximity makes you unsure of yourself. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve always felt…something for him. He’s a brute, yes, and you’ve seen the ugliest sides of him. Something about it makes his softer moments that much more profound, though. The tenderness is there, and it shows in quieter times. He winks at you now and then, offers you a smile with no malice or contempt or derision behind it. 

Logan’s got a soft spot for you, too. You’re a sweet girl. He’s always thought so, really. You do what you’re told, and you don’t ask for much. You’re not a bumbling idiot or a nagging fly buzzing in his ear. Easy on the eyes, too. Never hurts.

Logan gestures to a seat in front of his desk and hums a little. “Need a minute,” he mutters as he reads something on the screen. You look at all of his belongings on his desk - papers, folders, a mug. A framed photo of him somewhere warm and beachy, showing off his pale legs and his swollen ankles. 

Finally, he closes the window and smiles at you. His piercing, steel blue eyes pin you in place, but they’re warm too, almost. Warmer than Roman’s. When Roman makes eye contact with you, it makes you feel like prey. Like he’ll hunt you for sport. Not Logan, though. His gaze is heavy, but not hungry. 

Logan claps his fingers together over his thick belly. “What can I do for you, dear?”

“Uhhh…” You cross and uncross your legs as you shift in your seat, then fidget with your manicure, nervously chipping the paint off. You hate this color now. When you look up, Logan’s got his eyebrows raised at you, waiting for you to continue. You don’t want to wear his patience thin. 

“It - I was gonna talk about Roman, but it’s nothing. It’s nothing. I’m not - I don’t need to tattle.” 

“Fuck that. What’s he doing?” Logan demands flatly, immediately, furrowing his brow. 

“No, I shouldn’t have said any–”

Logan interrupts, speaking your name softly. “Tell me.”

You tell him everything about the harassment. How long it’s been going on for, how it started small and just kept escalating and escalating. How fucking relentless Roman is. You show him the texts, the photos, becoming flustered when Logan stumbles across the photos of yourself Roman made you send to him last weekend. Logan quietly hums in approval. 

You tell him about Roman in his office, the stunt he pulled just before now. It feels good to get it off your chest, at least momentarily. The way Logan simply nods, rubbing a hand on his chin makes you feel uneasy, though. A silence hangs heavily as he takes it all in, thinking. 

“What?” The anxiety makes your question slip out rather impatiently. “Sorry, I just - what are you thinking, Mr. Roy?”

Logan scoffs, smiling just a little. “...Didn’t think the kid had it in him.” 

“O-oh. Okay.” 

That’s…that’s it? You wonder if he’s gonna tell you that you were asking for it. Or to buck up. Maybe the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and Logan will be just as cruel to you as his son is. Fuck, you already regret this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice softer than you expected it’d be. “Truly. I’m sorry my son put you through this. I promise I raised him better, darling. I did my best.”

“No, it’s–” You interrupt yourself to exhale steadily, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” 

“You know,” Logan begins, absentmindedly wiggling his fingers, “You know what it is. Boys’ll fuckin’ be boys.” 

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, you know. Men don’t grow out of boyhood so quickly, anymore, s’all. World’s turnin’ to fuckin’ shit. Unacceptable behavior, the fuckin’ kid’s pushing forty,” he spits, rolling his eyes. “Roman - he’s…well, you know what this is, don’t you? You see through his act, yes?”

You shake your head. “No,” you reply.

“Boys like him, they’ll pick on ya when they’re sweet on you,” Logan explains. “That’s all it is. Usually harmless. Usually,” he adds.

“But, Mr. Roy, I don’t–”

“I know, dear. He’s not your type, is he?”

“No,” you answer quickly, garnering a hearty chuckle from Logan. You laugh too.

“The boy always was an odd duck,” Logan adds, then pauses, thinking. “What is your type, darling, if you’ll forgive my asking?”

“Oh, gosh,” you giggle, feeling Logan’s heavy gaze on your body, your warm face. He knows. He absolutely knows. 

“Older, for one,” you admit. 

Logan smirks, and you share a smile with him. He seems to pick up on everything, knows exactly what the words left unspoken spell out. It’s always girls like you, vibrating with desire for him. No matter how white his hair becomes, nor how much rounder his belly gets, nor every new wrinkle that graces his face as the years stack up - doesn’t change the fact that Logan Roy’s still fucking got it. He reaches for one of his desk drawers, then pulls it open and reaches inside. Logan grabs an orange bottle and rattles out a tiny, blue, diamond shaped pill. His blue eyes twinkle at you as he swallows the pill, then points to the bar cart by the window. “Be a lamb, darling. Some water.”  

Quickly, you grab Logan a glass of water, watching him wash down the pill as you clench your thighs. 

“I need to hit him where it hurts,” Logan says in between sips. “Make it fuckin’ stick this time.” 

Logan shoots Roman a quick text, and you wait anxiously for his arrival. When he finally enters the office, his face falls upon seeing you at his father’s desk, looking…happier than he’d like to see you. You’re sitting up straight, chin held high, shoulders back. Logan’s scowl darkens as he gestures for Roman to sit down, right in the seat next to you. Roman’s hands shake a little as he pulls the seat back and lowers himself into it. 

“What’re we gonna do about you, son?”

“What?” Roman’s brows furrow, and his bottom lip wobbles ever so slightly. “I don’t kn–”

“You a sicko?”

Roman shifts uncomfortably in his seat, realizing this conversation is absolutely not going to go his way. “No, I–”

Logan cuts Roman off, his tone sharp. “She tells me you’ve been harassing her, Roman. Is this true?”

“What? Dad, no. She’s f-fucking lying,” Roman stammers. Roman looks at you then, and you can see how he tries to glare, to scare you, to regain control. He’s powerless here, with you protected by his father. 

Logan reaches for your phone, which is sitting face down on his desk. He turns it on, “Gimme a hand here, darling. Pull it up again.” 

You have to bite down on your smile as you put in your passcode, feeling so empowered at the moment. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. Roman’s humiliated you so many times and finally, he’s gonna take what he dishes. And then some.

Logan shakes his head a little, grumbling as he prods the screen with his fat fingers. “Fuckin’ bastard…here. Here it is. S’that your fuckin’ dick?” he sneers, spit flying from his lips. He turns the phone around, showing Roman one of the many, many photos of his own dick on your phone.

Roman freezes, his face turning pale enough to make his freckles vanish. “N–”

“Certainly small enough to be yours. Look–” Logan scrolls through more texts, “This one too, huh?”

“No,” Roman seethes, and it almost makes you giggle, the way he scrambles to lie. So fucking…pathetic. He’s everything Logan’s not. 

“Oh, see? Look at him, darling. He’s squirming.”

Logan reaches for his eyeglasses sitting on his chest, held by a cord that wraps around his neck. He squints a little as he scrolls through your phone, then clears his throat before reading aloud. “‘I bet you’re so tight’,” he reads loudly, droning in a monotone voice. “‘I need to be inside you. You’d look pretty covered in my cum.’ You think this is a fucking compliment?” Logan asks, looking at Roman through his eyebrows.

Roman’s face twists, and he scratches the back of his neck in discomfort. “Dad–”

Logan turns the phone around again, and this time a picture of Roman’s hand is on the screen. Fingers spread, covered in his own come. He scrolls again and the next photo is a picture of Roman himself, licking those fingers. 

“You are a fuckin’ sicko,” he growls.

You and Logan watch Roman shrink into his seat, how he looks like he’d willingly crawl out of his own skin and die, if he could. Logan lets him stew in his discomfort and his shame for a beat, then pats his lap, petting his bulge a little.

Roman watches you round the desk at the same time Logan rolls his chair back, making enough space for the both of you. You sit on Logan’s meaty thighs, watching the color drain from Roman’s lips. “Ope - up a second, dear. C���mon, up, up.” Logan swats your hip gently. You stand up then, and feel Logan’s large, paddle shaped hands slide up your thighs, under your skirt. He reaches for the waistband of your panties before tugging them down, letting them pool at your feet. You step out of them, then sit back down, leaning against Logan’s thick, pillowy belly. 

“Spread your legs,” Logan whispers, helping you part your thighs. Your skirt rides up your body, putting your throbbing cunt on display for Roman. Roman swallows thickly, watching as his father reaches for your center, grunting a little as he stretches. You moan when you feel him touch you, sliding just one, thick digit through your slippery folds. “Oh,” he gasps mockingly, holding out his hand for Roman to see. “See how wet she is, Romulus? Tell him, darling, who are you this fuckin’ wet for?”

“You,” you whimper, turning to speak to Logan. Logan groans, and you feel his thick cock twitch against your backside. “I need you, Mr. Roy.”

“Oh, my dear. Be patient. We’ll get there.”

Logan glares at Roman as he pushes a single finger inside of you, and even that’s a stretch that has you whining. Logan coos in your ear, quieting you as he uses his other hand to unbutton your blouse. He wriggles his fat hand underneath your bra, palming and groping your tits, teasing your nipples with his thumb. “Fuckin’ kid wouldn’t know what to do with a pair of tits like these, now would he, sweetheart?”

“N-no,” you agree, looking right at Roman. Your eyes scan down his body, noticing that - oh, god. He’s fucking hard. He’s trying to hide it, hands covering his crotch. But you see it. You see the way he’s rocking his hips, pressing down on himself to alleviate that pressure a little. 

Logan pumps his finger inside you once, then twice, then adds another. He curls the two rhythmically, noting how it makes Roman squirm. Roman’s making desperate, stifled little noises as he watches his father fingerfuck you, so shamefully, disgustingly turned on by the sight. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, resting your head against Logan’s shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut as you bask in the pleasure, bucking your hips into his palm a little. 

“Ah-ah. Eyes open, darling, and look at Roman. Look, he’s fuckin’ hard for ya. See?” You lift your head a little, looking at Roman through half-lidded eyes. His face is so fucking red, eyes still wild but a little broken, too. All wet and sad. He’s sweating, you can see it glittering at his hairline, the protruding veins in his forehead twitching to match. “He’s making a mess of himself,” Logan adds, pointing to the the wet spot bleeding through Roman’s pants. “Fuckin’ disgusting, isn’t he?”

“Dad,” Roman whispers, voice breaking. “Please, d–”

“Shut the fuck up, Roman,” you snap. You’re melting as Logan now rubs your clit in practiced circles. He’s got decades of experience under his belt. Guided some hundreds of women to orgasm. You’re no different, just as easy as the rest of them.

You whine as Logan pulls his hand away, pushing you forward so he can free his cock from his slacks. He sucks in his belly as he unbuttons his pants, then exhales deeply, thick belly bulging against his thin shirt. Even at the ripe age of eighty, Logan’s cock is long and thick, and everything Roman’s simply is not. You don’t get much of a look at the thick, unruly patch of white pubic hair surrounding the base of his shaft before Logan’s pulling you against him, tapping his dress shoe between your ankles to make you spread your legs. “Show Roman how you take care of his old man, huh? See how he likes that.” He fits the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, then slowly pushes you down with a firm push on your hips. “Ohhh, that’s it, darling. You take it so well.”

The stretch of his cock entering you has you sucking in a sharp breath, then exhaling through that delicious pain. Your cunt pulses around Logan’s cock as you watch Roman free his own dick, desperately pawing at his own length as tears fall from his eyes. He wipes them quickly, then uses the same hand to stroke himself.

“Help a man out, sweetheart. The osteoarthritis…my knees, I–”

“Of course, Mr. Roy,” you coo sweetly, lifting yourself up and down on his turgid, wrinkled member. Logan steadies you with his hands on your waist, guiding you along. Roman lets a little sob escape as he watches his father fuck his massive cock into you, squeezing his own cock so desperately. You giggle at that. 

“Quit - don’t fucking laugh–”

“Hey,” Logan barks, pointing a finger at Roman. “You don’t call the shots here, Roman, I do. I fucking run game,” he growls. Logan squeezes your breasts in both hands as he draws in and out of you, letting out wheezy exhales as his heart rate increases, but he won’t let his hypertension stop him from pleasing you. “Yeah, that’s it, honey. Look at him, fucking his hand. Tell me darling, what do you think of that?” 

“I think - I think he’s fucking pathetic,” you answer, looking right at Roman as you say it. Roman’s face breaks even further, more tears falling from his big, wet eyes. He wipes his eyes and his dripping nose, using the mess on his hand as lubricant as he fucks his fist with a depressing sort of fervor.

“Hear that, son? She thinks you’re fucking pathetic,” Logan taunts. 

“I fuck- oh, fuck,” Roman whimpers, throwing his head back as he desperately works himself. 

“Oh, you’re fuckin’ adopted,” Logan grumbles under his breath. He lifts you up then, and spins you around, then lays you across his desk so you’re looking at Roman upside-down. Logan enters you again in one swift motion, then begins fuckings you with an energy you wouldn’t expect, but that pleasantly surprises you. He’s so spry for an eighty year old. 

“You do so good for me,” Logan praises you. “My idiot son could get fucked like this too, if he weren’t such a fucking screwup. Isn’t that right, Romulus?”

“Y-yeah,” Roman whines. 

“Speak up, Roman. Let her hear you. Actually–” Logan grunts, punctuating the sentence with a brutal snap of his hips “I want you to apologize to her.”

“What?”

“He’s that fuckin’ stupid, huh?” Logan pants, the comment directed at you. “Fucking. Apologize,” he tells Roman. “Do it now.”

“I’m fuckin’ sorry. Okay?”

“Again, Romulus,” Logan demands, annoyed. “Louder.”

Roman tells you he’s sorry again, and it makes you smile. His voice all high-pitched and broken. Good, it’s about fucking time he’s taken down a peg.

“Tell her again,” Logan says. “Like ya fuckin’ mean it, Roman. And you don’t stop apologizing until she comes. Are we fucking clear?”

Roman nods frantically, pumping his cock as he whines, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

His words go right to your core. Logan fucks you harder, and licks his thumb before bringing it to your clit. He uses those same practiced circles from before to coax along your release, and it’s not long before you’re pulsing around his cock, moaning Roman’s father’s name as you come hard, all that pleasure washing over you as Roman whispers how fucking sorry he is. 

With a few harsh thrusts, Logan’s spilling into you next, coming with a deep, guttural grunt and wheezing breaths, a sharp pain in his chest. It’s all fucking worth it. He reaches into his pocket and tosses you his handkerchief, then excuses himself, mumbling something about needing his supplemental oxygen. 

You sit on Logan’s desk as Roman strokes himself to completion, sobbing as he gets off to the sight of your puffy, swollen cunt, ruined by his own father, and dripping with his spend. He makes a mess of himself as he comes, “Here, Rome–” you offer, tossing your used cumrag at him. 

“Get that - fuck,” Roman cries, swatting it away. He sobs as he comes down from his orgasm, unable to even look at you as you put yourself back together. 

“It’s smaller in person,” you murmur, touching Roman on the shoulder before leaving. He flinches at that, then breaks down in tears again as he shoves his softening cock back into his pants. “See ya tomorrow, boss.”

if you enjoyed, please shout at me 🩷💕 comments, rb, or go to my inbox. I turned anons back on because I know a handful of freaks will need to scream about their horniness but would prefer to do so anonymously.

romey tags

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson @moth-maam56

@kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink @romanarose

@kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife @thesummerpetrichor

@lilipads @luiscarrutherss @baronessvonglitter @myromeow

@ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh @always-andromeda @causesimmer @pedropascalbabygirl

@baloobalee @slimybeth69 @pearlstiare @romanisbrat @callsignwidow @ziggymars

@perpetuallymanic @111melo @veryverycoolgirl @marisemonteiroo

@prettybpdgirl @butuhaventseenmyman @drunkdriverkillerwhale @fawnjaw @/fadedviolets @/flowercrowns-goodvibes

[pretzel-box]

Might I humbly request more streamer au Sebastian?? I don't have a specific prompt so honestly do whatever you'd like!

SEQUEL TO THE STREAMER AU

PART 1 HERE

Tags: Doubt, Comedy, Teasing, Slightly Fluff, Streamer AU

Words: 1,6k

You glanced at the message on your screen, your eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

“Jellybeanie_?”

Even though it was just a jumble of words on the flat screen, you could almost hear the amusement behind the way Solace wrote your username. It was a name that carried a bit of a past, a digital footprint that had followed you through your early streaming days. Your father had given you the nickname "Jellybeanie" when you were young, and it stuck, especially during your awkward teenage years when you thought beanies were the pinnacle of cool fashion. There was a bit of irony there, considering the sheer volume of cringe it represented. You had done everything to erase that phase from existence, deleting your weird selfies, throwing the beanies out and pretending you’re too cool for silly headwear—except for the username. Somehow, it had become part of your identity, both endearing and a little bit embarrassing.

"Don't judge it, Shoelaced_Seb42," you shot back with a grin, your fingers flying over the keyboard as the heat of the moment pulled you in. You could only imagine what kind of story was behind his own name. Maybe it was a wordplay with “shoelace” and “Solace,” but “Seb42”? That was anyone’s guess. There had to be a story there, too—everyone had one.

His reply came almost instantly. “Careful, doll. I don't want to reveal my edgelord side in front of a cute bean like you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, something warm and annoyingly familiar. Damn him for knowing exactly how to get under your skin—and damn you for liking

While you had no problem flirting with Solace during your nightly gaming streams, your real-life roommate was a different story entirely. It was a cruel twist of fate, really. Your fans always talked about how well you and Solace—a famous streamer with a massive following—got along. They called you "the perfect duo," and more than a few shipped you two. They didn't know the irony of the situation. Because in reality, when you weren't "Jellybeanie_", there was no Pressured_Solace, just Sebastian.

The Sebastian who would leave his empty coffee mugs all over the apartment. The Sebastian who would blast his music at ungodly hours, regardless of how many times you'd told him you needed quiet for your recordings. The Sebastian who seemed to have made it his life mission to be the most insufferable person you'd ever met.

You had moved into this apartment months ago, both of you, lured by the promise of a prime location and cheap rent—only to discover that you couldn't go five minutes without bickering over something mundane. The Wi-Fi. The thermostat. The last of the milk.

"Seriously, Sebastian," you muttered under your breath the next morning after your midnight chat with Solace, staring at the empty carton of milk your roommate left in the fridge. "Is it too much to ask for you to throw this out? Or better yet, buy more?"

Sebastian sauntered into the kitchen, tousled black hair sticking up at odd angles, a lazy grin on his face. "Morning to you too, sunshine," he said, ignoring your frustration completely. He tossed his phone onto the counter and grabbed a can of energy drink from the pantry. "Did you see my note?"

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. "Yeah, I saw it. It was crumpled up in the trash. Nice touch."

He just smirked, leaning back against the counter as he cracked open the can. "You know, I think you secretly love our little banter," he said, taking a sip and watching you with those infuriatingly bright eyes of his. He was definitely teasing you, his tone wasn't like Solace his…Sebastian was the ungodly opposite, annoying, mean and insufferable.

"Love is a strong word," you shot back, fighting the urge to hit him with the empty milk box. He had this way of getting under your skin, making you react, and he seemed to take endless delight in it.

When night fell and the cameras turned on, it was a different story. As Jelly you felt like you were seeing a different side of life by spending time with Solace. The witty banter, the playful teasing over the text messages—it felt real. More real than the stupid arguments with your roommate over dish duty or who got to use the bathroom first in the mornings.

You’d been doing collaborative streams with Solace for months now. What had started as a random pairing in a popular online game had quickly turned into a regular thing, and your viewers loved it. There was a chemistry there—an undeniable spark that had even you questioning what was real and what was just for show.

And the more you streamed together, the more you found yourself looking forward to those late-night gaming sessions. The way he made you laugh, the way he’d check in to make sure you were okay if things got too intense in-game. There was a kindness to him—a depth that you didn’t see in the Sebastian you shared your living space with.

“So, Jelly,” his voice crackled through your headset, bringing you back to the game at hand. “What’s the plan? You gonna carry us to victory, or should I start writing my will now?”

You chuckled, glancing at the chat as messages flew by. Your viewers were eating this up. “I don’t know, Solace,” you replied, your tone playful. “Maybe I’ll let you die first and then come in for the save. Would make for great content.”

He laughed, a sound that sent a small thrill through you. “Always thinking about the content. That’s why you’re the best.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the compliment, a smile tugging at your lips. Damn him. Why did he have to be so... nice? And why did you have to like it so much?

It was nearly 3 a.m. by the time your stream ended. You stretched, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. As you stepped out of your room, you were startled to find Sebastian in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge.

He looked up as you entered, a frown on his face. “Late night?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, too tired to muster up a proper retort. “Like you’re one to talk,” you muttered, grabbing a water bottle from the counter.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence, the kind that seemed to fill every corner of the small apartment. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you ever… wonder what your online friends are like in real life?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful. “I mean, it’s easy to get along with someone when you’re just a username and a voice on a screen. But in real life… things are different.”

You studied him for a moment, unsure of where this was coming from. “Yeah,” you said slowly. “I guess you’re right. People can be… different.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to the fridge. “Anyway, good night,” he said over his shoulder as he grabbed a snack and headed back to his room.

“Good night,” you replied, watching him go. You couldn’t help but wonder about the sudden shift in his demeanor. The whole conversation was just a giant question mark and you didn't understand where the sudden question came from.

A week passed, and you couldn't stop thinking about that night in the kitchen. Your streams with Solace were becoming more frequent, and with every passing game, you felt that connection deepening. It was confusing. Especially after Sebastian's words from last week, you actually don't know much about Solace. What he looks like, what his job is, if he has a partner…God he could be a 65 year old man named Josh that drives a truck and eats Hamburgers every day for lunch. He could be anyone.

And then, one fateful night, everything changed.

You were streaming a new co-op game with Solace when a message popped up in the chat from a mutual fan. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if Jelly and Seb were roommates IRL?”

You laughed it off, typing a quick response. “Yeah, imagine that chaos!”

Seb responded with a chuckle, “We’d probably drive each other insane.”

But the thought lingered. Your eyes drifted over to his username again—Pressured_Solace. You hated the feeling of having a crush on someone who was out of reach, someone who had not a face and not a real name. And it crushed you not to know if you would ever know more about him. Wondering if all the flirting and the jokes were just a facade for the streams or if he actually tries to get close to you.

Your sudden silence must have been noticeable because Solace his voice came through your headset, concerned. “Jelly? You okay?”

You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, I… I just thought of something.”

“Like what?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, too quickly. “Just… something funny. I'll tell you later.”

But as you ended the stream, you knew there was no way you were going to let this go. Not without finding out the truth behind Solace.

The stream ended, the microphone turned off and you leaned back into your chair, fumbling with the cables of your headphones.

“Solace?” Your fingers moved on the glowing keyboard, texting him on discord. The most healthy thing was confrontation instead of confusion and you collected your courage to ask him for a picture.

“What's up, Jellybeanie!~”

“Can I get a picture?” It didn't take long till he replied with a spoiler-covered picture, adding a secretive emoji that holds a finger in front of their mouth. Your heart skips a beat, anxiety and excitement rushing through your mind and you click on the image with shaky hands.

It was a fish. He trolled you.

“SOLACE!”

“ALR ALR CHILL BEANIE!1!1”

He send another picture.

And in a single moment, it hit you hard.

And you screamed.

[ajvocals43]

Country Girl (Shake it for me)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3378

Warnings: Rushed writing (not edited), body image issues, cheesy cliches

Summary: Y/n is in love with Dean, but what happens when she decides to show him what he's missing out on?

A/N: I couldn't let Dean's birthday go by without writing a fic for him. This was done really quickly and hasn't been edited but I've had this idea for a while. I will also say, I didn't add it but if you play Whole Lotta Woman by Kelly Clarkson during the beginning of the bar scene, it hits. That, along with Country Girl by Luke Bryan are what this was based off of.

Hot. That was my only thought as I stepped out of the backseat of the dark chevy impala. I stared up at the western themed motel in the small town in the middle of seemingly nowhere. Dean was freaking out, as per usual when it came to the “Wild West”, and what better place to be for all that than Texas. It’d been a long time since I’d been to the lone star state; not since I was a teenager trading months between my parents. It hadn’t seemed as hot then. Right now, I felt like I was standing on the surface of the sun in my dress pants and blouse that I’d worn to interview families while Dean and Sam went to the Morgue. I really needed some shorts. Really, I needed the confidence to wear some shorts. 

“Is anyone else sweating balls out here?” I asked the brothers who were grabbing their things out of the trunk to head into the room. My question fell on deaf ears as they both continued their conversation inside the air conditioning. They were probably both tired of my complaining since it hasn't stopped since we hit the dry heat earlier this afternoon. I sighed, grabbing my bag, shutting Baby’s trunk and heading into the room. Sometimes we split into 2 rooms but most times there were rooms that had 3 beds, or 2 beds and a cot that we would rotate through each town. This would have been my turn to have a cot but luckily, there were 3 beds lined up against the far wall. I sighed as the air conditioning kicked on and I felt the vent above me start to blow cold air into the room. 

“Better, princess?” Dean called from where he stood at the thermostat on the wall opposite me. I nodded, feeling the cold air chill my skin from the hot summer sun outside, walking over to my bed on the left side of the room. 

“Didn't you grow up in Texas, Y/n?” Sam asked from where he sat on his laptop. “Shouldn't you be used to the heat?” 

“I alternated months. And I never came in August because no sane person comes to Texas in August, Dean!” I called over my shoulder, rifling through my clothes for something that wasn't coated in sweat. 

I heard Dean chuckling behind me as he moved about the room. “Sorry, I don't choose where monsters kill people.” 

“Please, you're just happy you get to wear a cowboy hat again.” I shot back.

“You're damn right I am!” Dean said with a smirk. “And don't forget the boots, either, sweetheart.” 

I rolled my eyes as I went to get out my laptop, unable to stop the smile that crept onto my face. Sam was right, I'd spent a lot of time in Texas growing up and I'd loved it. Times had changed though and while there were pieces I'd always love and miss, it wasn't home anymore.  But I did have to admit, seeing Dean’s excitement made me feel something that I hadn't felt in a long time. It was rare to see him like this and for a second, I just let myself enjoy that, not knowing the next time I would be able to see it. 

Yeah ok, so I'm one of the dumb girls who fell for Dean Winchester. Sue me. I'm not going to go through the whole story of how the brothers saved my life and we became besties but then I started to grow feelings for the elder brother through the endless flirty banter. It's not necessary and I don't want to waste time on it. But it didn't change the facts. I was in love with him. And he didn't even notice me. 

Could I be more of a cliche? 

 Apparently, yes. 

We had a lot of work to do, so we got to putting the stories together and starting on the research for the night. And it took forever, especially considering how tired we all were from the drive into town. We decided to have dinner and call it an early night. 

 We’d spent a couple hours researching and coming up with a plan before Dean announced that he was bored out of his mind and going out. Sam looked at me, we both knew I was going with him. 

It wasn't that I didn't enjoy going out with Dean, I relished and feared the alone time in equal measure. Because on one hand, having time alone with Dean usually meant I got to see parts of him that I don't think he lets others see very often. And that just made me all the more hopeless because it felt like what he told me in these moments connected us on an even deeper level and that I knew him better than any one night stand or past girlfriend ever could. Because I knew the now Dean. The one that had been through hell, purgatory and so much more. I could understand him because I knew he wasn't the same 26 year old hunter that those girls had thought they could fix. I was under no delusions of being able to fix Dean Winchester. He was a fully grown adult and I was not his mother. But I think what kept my unreasonable hope of ever being with him going was that I accepted him. Bad habits, snap decision making, self-sacrificing traits and all. Because he was Dean. And all those broken parts that left scars and tore apart past relationships made him the most caring, courageous and loving person I'd ever known. 

On the other hand though, going out alone with Dean sometimes meant having to deal with broody moods, childish behavior and… picking up girls. Girls who looked nothing like me. I wasn't ashamed of my size…for the most part. I could appreciate my curves most days, but there were times where I struggled not looking like the bartenders or waitresses at the establishments we stopped at. The kinds of girls Dean picked up. He rarely ever went home with girls now, but it still happened. And it was not a fun time for me to sit in the backseat so he could drop me off at the hotel with Sam like I was a kid. Or even worse, when I refused to ride and had to walk or wait for an Uber to come pick me up. Because then, Dean wouldn't leave until someone safe showed up to come get me, and while I appreciated the thought, I did not appreciate the glares from the girls or the feeling like I was a child who couldn't take care of herself. 

Regardless, because we were friends, I wanted to look out for him. I knew Sam got some anxiety when Dean would just up and leave sometimes because you never know what could be lurking in the shadows, especially in our line of work. Or at least that's what he told me. I had the stinking suspicion he just wanted me out of the room because he knew about my feelings for Dean and didn't want to monitor my moping while he was gone. Which was understandable. 

 Dean and I got into our respective sides of the car as usual. Sam normally rode up front in the passenger’s seat, but would sometimes sacrifice the leg room for me when I got car sick. This wasn’t new by any means and yet, my body’s reactions were as if this was the first time we’d been this close together. I was hyperaware of his smell, the sounds of the leather moving and adjusting underneath us, the feel of the engine under me. I rustled through his box of cassettes on the floor before landing on Bob Seger. Dean gave me a look as I switched out the Led Zeppelin that had been in earlier. I shrugged and turned up the volume as the opening notes of Rock ‘N’ Roll Never Forgets came through the speakers. Dean was still giving me a weird look so I ignored him and started singing, waiting to enjoy the feel of the rushing air cooling down the car as we pulled out onto the road. 

Surprisingly, we didn't go to a bar though. Dean pulled Baby into a parking spot in front of a western shop that couldn't have been more than a mile away from the motel. What were we doing here? With the lack of movement on my part, Dean rounded the car and opened my door for me.

 “Come on, Princess. Let's get some gear.” I just stared at him. Why were we here? “You comin?” He asked when I just stared at him in shock. 

“Uh… y-yeah.” I stuttered. I truly didn't expect this from him. I scrambled to get out of the car and follow Dean who had turned with a smile and begun to walk into the store. 

As I entered the store, I got over my shock and figured he probably wanted a hat. Or boots based on the extensive collection that lined 3 of the 4 walls in the store. I followed him for a little before I ventured off to find shorts. The sweating was starting to get uncomfortable and I couldn't last much longer in jeans and dark shirts. I wandered through the racks, attempting to find clothes in my size, of which there weren't as many as I would like. But I did find some. A few lighter material tops and shorts that seemed like they’d fit. But I got distracted (I know, terrible for a hunter) and missed Dean sneaking up behind me. 

“What about these?” I turned to find Dean with a pair of what could barely be considered shorts. And sure they were cute with all their jewels and the belt that was looped through them, but they would no doubt look like underwear on me. 

“You’re funny.” I said as I turned back to what I was looking at. 

“I do.” he agreed, “But what's wrong with these?” 

“Theyre short.” I scoffed. 

“Isnt that the point of shorts?” he asked, seemingly confused. He wasn't wrong. And on good days, they were something I might wear. 

“I see your point. I guess” I said hesitantly. 

“Great! Then let's grab some boots…” he turned and eyed a scrap of fabric that was supposed to be a shirt “and this” he picked it up “and get out of here.” I laughed and followed obediently. 

We picked up some boots because we needed to be “authentic” for some reason and left for the motel. When we got back to the room, Sam was still in the same place we’d left him. “I’d assumed you guys went to get food or something.” He said before turning his computer towards us. “But get this. I think I found what we’re looking for.” 

The rest of the hunt went pretty smoothly. A simple salt and burn, and only Sam got mildly injured from being thrown into a wall. So we decided to celebrate. Well…Dean did. I figured this time I would stay back. 

“Why didn't you go with?” Sam asked from his place at the table. 

“Didn't feel like it.” I shrugged, not looking up from my book. 

“Uh huh.” Sam said. He paused for a while before saying “Y’know, he's not going to know how you feel unless you show him.” 

“Show? Not tell?” 

“Well we all know both of you are terrible at expressing your feelings. So maybe showing would be easier.” At this, he shut his computer and turned to look at me. 

I put my book down. “I love your confidence in me Sam, but you see as clearly as I do what his type is.” I said, trying not to let my sadness show. 

“Maybe…” he drew out, “But I also know my brother.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. 

“It means, you should go to the bar.” Sam said, as if it were that simple. Maybe it was for other girls. The ones who didn't have the history we did. 

“Im scared Sam.” I finally confessed. 

“And?” he asked. ���I don't remember you ever letting a man control your life.”  

He was right. I was a total cliche but… to be honest, I loved making people realize they'd underestimated me. The bar wasn't far, close enough to walk even though Dean had taken the car. Sam’s words got me thinking. And while I was terrified of being rejected by him, I felt like I owed it to myself to have a good time, regardless of what or who Dean was doing. 

So it was time to get off my ass and stop moping. I went over to my duffel bag in the corner of the room and found the shorts and top Dean had picked out earlier that week. What better way than to make a man regret than to throw his own choices back at him. I jumped into the shower and pulled on the clothes. It was a lot more skin than I usually showed but… it'd do the trick. The shorts did wonders for my ass and the top the same for my boobs. And while I wasn't fond of my thighs spilling out the bottom with the highest inseam of a short I'd ever had, it was a pretty sexy look. As a hunter, I never wore makeup so I did my hair and was about ready to leave, when at the last minute, I changed my regular thick boots for the cowboy boots we’d gotten earlier that week. It'd been a while since I'd rocked the denim and boots look, I kind of missed it if I was honest. 

And with that, I bade Sam goodbye and walked out the door. When I walked in, it was actually pretty crowded. It must've been a dancing night because when I looked to my right, there were at least 30 people on the floor line dancing. Maybe I'd head over there. But then I spotted Dean at the bar and I made my way over to him, swaying my hips just a little so as to draw a bit of attention from those around me. Maybe they’d see what he was missing. I stopped in front of him and he seemed stunned. Probably surprised that I came out tonight when I'd been adamant about staying in the motel earlier. But then, of course, the bartender returned and started flirting with Dean.

Refusing to let that break my mood, I turned and smiled at someone on the other end of the bar. He smiled back and waved. Just then, the music changed, and I heard the beginning guitar of Luke Bryan’s Country Girl start blasting from the stage. It was one of the few newer line dances I’d kept up with. I'd gone dancing years ago with a friend of mine and she taught me it so I at least knew one modern dance. I jumped up and strutted over to the floor, my steps falling to the beat of the song. 

And wow. In my constant fight against the supernatural, I sometimes forgot how much fun simple things like dancing could be. I lost myself in the moves, getting more into it until I was in the middle of the floor, smiling and laughing with those around me. Throughout the song, I let my worries fade away and let myself embody the spirit of the lyrics. Until it came to an end. I turned around to leave and found Dean had moved from the bar to one of the smaller standing tables that rounded the dancefloor. I made my way over to him. 

“I almost forgot how much fun those are.” I panted, coming off the dance floor. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean answered as he slid a glass of ice water to me across the small table top. “You were a natural out there though.” 

I took a sip and let the cool water slide down my throat. “That? It's really just about getting the repetition.” 

“Nah, I'll leave that to the professionals,” he held his bottle of beer up in a salute to me. “I'm just fine with my place watching.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, looking back to the dance floor. “Who were you watching? The blonde? The redhead?” I tried for nonchalance. 

“You.” I heard him say behind me. It took a second for the word to register. 

I turned around, confused. “What?” 

“I'm always watching you. You know that.” 

Right. I really needed to stop getting my hopes up about things that were not real. “Dean, I appreciate that, but I promise, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself-”

“It's not like that and you know it.” 

“Dean, I-”  I started. 

“Baby, don't make me spell it out for you; you know I want you.” He deadpaned. 

My jaw dropped. There was no way I had just heard that right. “Huh?”

He looked at me silently, waiting for me to wrap my brain around what he was saying, like it wasn't the last thing I had expected to hear come out of his mouth. 

“You…want me?” I asked finally. “Like me, Y/n, me?”

Dean chuckled slightly. “So the teasing wasn't intentional. 

“Teasing?” I asked, bewildered. “What teasing?” 

“The dancing, the flirting, the tight clothes-” 

“Tight clothes?” I blurted. 

“Not like that.” he started. I hadn't realized the sexist connotation to those words as he’d said them. “Sweetheart, you have to have realized what you do to me when you wear those jeans, or leggins, or those deep v tops.” 

“That's because they don't make a lot of clothes that fit bodies like mine.” 

“Really?” his voice dropped. “Cause I'm pretty sure that every stitch of clothes you're wearing, right down to those boots were made specifically to fit every inch of your body perfectly.” He grabbed onto my belt buckle and pulled me, harshly against him. “And to drive me right out of my damn mind.” 

Well fuck me. 

Literally. Please. 

My eyes dropped to his lips. Inches from mine now, I could feel his body heat radiating through our clothes. He leaned down, his right hand moved from my belt up my back and into my hair, grabbing a fist full of curls and pulling gently, drawing my eyes up to his. I licked my suddenly dry lips as I watched him smirk before leaning in slowly, giving me plenty of time to back out. Fat chance of that happening. I raised up on my toes and met him halfway, sealing our lips together in the single hottest kiss I'd ever had. I'd laughed at the amount of girls that gushed over his abilities but holy hell. They were right. I held onto him as we kissed every last breath out of our lungs, only pulling away when it started to hurt. I felt his smile against my own as we caught our breath.  

This was crazy. Absolutely insane. And incredible. “Damn woman.” Dean said, his breaths matching mine. “You drive me crazy.” 

“I know the feeling.” 

“Yeah?” he asked with a smirk. 

“Yeah.” I said dreamily. But my smile sobered as I remembered the bartender. “But what about-” 

“What about what Y/n?” he asked. 

“The bartender?” I asked. He looked at me blankly. “Shes cute.” 

“And?” he asked. “Princess, have you seen yourself?” He made a show of looking me over. “You’d drive any man out of his mind. I'm just lucky you chose to do it to me.” 

“Who said this was for you?” 

His face turned damn near murderous for a moment. “Let them try it and see what happens.” With that, his hand slid down to wrap around my waist and pull me impossibly tighter to him. There would be no doubt to anyone that we were together. “You’re stuck with me now sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart?” I asked, playfully. “Not ‘princess’?” since that seemed to be his favorite name for me as of late. 

“You like that, huh?” he asked gruffly. “Well…you're mine, princess.” And with that, he leaned down to kiss me again. 

Masterlist 

[mj-iza-writer]

Subject and warning: Institutional pet whump... naked Whumpee. Bathroom usage. Drugging.

"I hear you.. I hear you", Whumper sighed as they pulled their kettle off of the stove burner.

They paused for a moment to listen for their pet. They could often hear the pitter patter of Whumpee coming to investigate the sounds... and to see if they could con a treat off of their master.

"Hmm, that's not like them at all", Whumper chuckled. They paused when they realized what trouble their pet could have gotten into while they were fixing their tea.

Whumper quickly and quietly tiptoed out of the kitchen. They continued to listen for Whumpee.

They finally heard a small whine, and Whumpee pawing at something.

They leaned into the living room and looked around until they found Whumpee's naked bum pointed up at them. They laid with a downward dog position and looked curiously at the heat register.

They couldn't help but smirk at the site. Whumpee swayed their butt side to side as they were trained to. This was to copy a real dog's happy tail wagging.

Whumpee pawed at the register and whined again.

Whumper frowned when Whumpee finally sat and looked at the register sadly. They tucked their body in tighter after a few shivers.

"I suppose it is a little cold... especially when your naked", Whumper leaned back and looked at their thermostat.

After a few taps, they leaned into the living room again.

The heat turned on right away, causing Whumpee to fall onto the floor and slide as close as possible to the warmth.

Whumper held their hand over their mouth to cover up their laugh.

Whumpee happily looked up when they saw Whumper watching them from the corner of their eyes.

"Is my pet cold?", Whumper cooed.

"Rumph", Whumpee grunted.

"You don't say?", Whumper cooed again.

Whumper carried in their teapot and cup.

Whumpee still relaxed by the heater. It had turned off a few minutes ago. They looked up at Whumper and whined.

"It will turn on again in a few minutes", Whumper set their things down, "be patient."

"MmmMmm", Whumpee whined in annoyance.

"Be quiet", Whumper sighed.

"Sniff... achoo", Whumpee sneezed playfully.

"Bless you" Whumper reached for their first cup of tea, "I know what you are doing, but it won't work. I'm reading my book. We played earlier, and I will cuddle with you later."

Whumpee trotted to Whumper's feet and rested their chin on Whumper's lap.

Whumper sighed at Whumpee's puppy eyes.

"Alright fine", Whumper patted their head, "let's go to the bathroom."

Whumpee shook their head no and shivered.

"I know, but you are not coming up on the couch until you've gone potty, and I've cleaned you off", Whumper poked Whumpee's nose, "just be happy you use the bathroom inside. Imagine if you were outside trained."

Whumpee followed Whumper into the bathroom.

They sat and waited for the command.

"Alright Whumpee, use the bathroom" Whumper ordered.

Whumpee hurried to their space.

They had been trained to use a squat toilet, which is what Whumper had requested.

Whumpee started to get comfortable, they looked up at Whumper awkwardly.

"Oh your right... sorry", Whumper turned, "because this doesn't compare to me seeing you naked twenty-four seven. Somehow, the bathroom is still a solo act."

After a few moments, Whumpee whined again, telling Whumper they had finished.

"Didn't have to use the bathroom", Whumper mocked as they set to work cleaning Whumpee.

Whumpee shivered as they leaned against Whumper.

"My poor baby is so cold", Whumper cooed as they stood, "look at all of that nastiness in your potty", Whumper frowned as they flushed.

"And that is why I wanted you toilet trained. Easy clean up", Whumper smiled.

Whumpee's teeth chattered together.

"Aww, my poor baby", Whumper hurried to wash their hands, "let's get you warmed up."

Whumpee jumped onto the couch and looked at Whumper tiredly.

"You've had a busy day, hmm", Whumper carried over Whumpee's favorite toy, "busy day being a pet?"

Whumpee yawned and stretched.

Whumper took a sip of their tea, "I'm surprised it's still somewhat warm. They gulped the rest down and poured more from their teapot.

Whumpee watched as Whumper grabbed a blanket and came over to them.

The blanket was flung over them, and Whumper tucked it in. They finished by tucking the toy into the blanket.

"Nice and comfy", Whumper ruffled Whumpee's hair lovingly.

"Hmmm", Whumpee hummed.

"Should we take your special treat before you go to sleep", Whumper smiled.

They reached for a white bottle that sat beside their chair.

Whumpee lifted their head slightly and cocked to the side.

"Don't worry it's just your vitamin... you like these", Whumper shook a gummy out onto their hand.

Whumpee sniffed it before opening their mouth.

Whumper placed the gummy onto Whumpee's tongue and watched them chew.

Whumpee quickly looked for more.

"No no, just one. You can have another tomorrow night", Whumper put the bottle back, "you just need one 'be good' vitamin to help your brain stay nice and sweet for me."

Whumpee tiredly rested their head while Whumper sat down and reached for their book and tea.

Whumpee slowly sneaked their head onto Whumper's lap.

"You're so sneaky when you want cuddles", Whumper set their cup down and started to play with Whumpee's hair.

Whumpee happily sighed.

After a while, Whumper's hand stilled, and Whumpee looked up at them.

"Humm...wh..wh", Whumpee whined lowly.

"Are you still awake?", Whumper sighed as they turned the page of their book and went back to petting Whumpee.

Whumpee reached into the blanket and pulled their toy out. They lifted it to their mouth and started to chew on it.

"Whumpee that isn't your chew toy", Whumper corrected with a sigh, "where is your chew toy anyways? I haven't seen it for a while."

Whumper scanned the floor.

"Huh, well, I guess you win. I'll have to find it later or buy a new one", Whumper laughed as Whumpee lifted their head and looked at them curiously. The toy still hung from their mouth.

"You're my silly pet", Whumper chuckled at Whumpee's antics.

Whumpee barked gleefully when Whumper set their book down and slid the empty tea pot away.

Whumpee was pulled up into Whumper's arms and squeezed tightly.

Whumpee wiggled around happily at their Master's new interests in them.

"Such a good pet for me", Whumper brushed Whumpee's hair back.

Whumpee nuzzled underneath Whumper's chin and sighed happily. Their cheek rested onto Whumper's chest.

Whumper rubbed circles along Whumpee's back until they could hear them snoring.

"Such a good pet", Whumper reached for the blanket and covered the both of them up. They then reached for the book again.

"It's a wonder how I got so lucky to get you", Whumper whispered, "long live our great institution."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

[seat-safety-switch]

In the distant past, people suffered. Ordinary folks, just like you and me. They agonized from the tortures of a cruel world. Why? They didn't have project cars.

Yes, I hear all the Smithsonian historians yelling right now. It's weird that every single one of you follow me, but I get it. You know that "project horses" are not a thing. Genghis Khan didn't spend a lot of time fuckin' around with the transmission ratios on his 13th-century wooden wagons. Maybe if he had a high-mileage 1989 Civic, it would have kept him busy, and he would not have killed quite so many people. Mostly the assholes at the parts store who keep getting him the wrong thermostat gasket, which I think history could forgive anyone for.

In the absence of the automobile, a lot of enterprising busyfolx had to find other, lesser hobbies. Agriculture. Photography. Poetry. Inventing the car, with the plan to buy a high-mileage used one later and nurse it back to health. Times were tough. Back then, a yard could just be filled with useless grass, or occasionally some kind of grazing animal, and not a succession of rusted-ass Plymouths and Pontiacs from fence to peeling fence. Waste of land, if you ask me.

I don't have a solution for this. The eggheads at CERN keep talking about devising some kind of time machine that can send exactly one (1) beat-to-shit Dodge Aspen back in history. They need someone to pilot it, and of course I volunteered. They just can't agree on what famous figure to distract from their destiny by dangling a delectable Malaise Era Mopar in front of them.

In the meantime, I've been tinkering on it a bit, here and there. Gotta do something to pass the time until they invent flying project cars.

[aleenuhs]

Her Carhartt’s (Modern Sadie Adler x Fem!Reader)

Note: this idea came to me due to a friend of mine calling me a Carhartt warrior a few days back, what can I say? I love dressing like a lil blue collar worker.

Sypnosis: Sadie loves Carhartt, the jeans, the beanies, jackets and everything else. You, on the other hand, you don't really wear anything of the brand, expect for their beanies. You steal a hoodie, adorned with wear and tear, it was hers for sure. When Sadie comes back into your guys' shared room, she stands shocked.

tags: established relationship, fluff, smut, aftercare

word count: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, smut w/aftercare, Sadie calls reader “girl” and other pet names, fingering (r!receiving), cuddling and kissing (all that stuff), Sadie gets a bit determined, lmk if more.

proofread? sorta..

Where you and Sadie lived, it often got cold, but Sadie kept the windows open in the house, sometimes even leaving the AC on during the night. Meanwhile, you shivered, teeth chattering and all. But you didn't mention a word of it to Sadie, as it wasn't that horrible, maybe you were overreacting.

Oh, but one day, it got cold, you turned on the heater while Sadie was away in the kitchen, then sat down on the couch, curled up watching your favorite movie. You refused to dress in more warm clothing as it would worsen things, you'd get way to hot and uncomfortable for your liking. So you resorted to trying to make your apartment warm.

Sadie walked out of the kitchen, using her hand as a fan.

"It's hot in here, Jesus." She walks over to the thermostat and turns it down to 50 degrees, previously 75, then walking away into the bathroom before you could mutter a single word and tell her to turn it back up.

You sigh. Your girlfriend was somehow always hot all the time, never cold, she just ran hot.

Upon turning off the TV, you stand up from your place on the couch and walk over to you and Sadies shared room. In a search for something to keep you warm, you sift through Sadies side of the closet, finding a jacket that you knew would keep you warm, her Carhartt hoodie in grey, little rips and tears, some discolored parts of the jacket, but that was what made it perfect. You slip it over your shirt, then Sadie comes out of the bathroom. Her head was tilted down, looking at her phone, then eventually she looks up to see you in the closet.

"And what're you doin' in my side of the closet, girl?" Sadie saw you putting the hanger back on the rack, and you let on a small smile, turning your body toward her.

"Just warming myself up," you reply back.

"You're cold?" She pauses, after seeing that you were wearing her hoodie. "Oh?"

"Hm?" You questioned, wondering why she suddenly had paused. Sadie knew you liked to wear her stuff, sometimes, and it was mostly her shirts, but never that jacket. Sadie let on a small chuckle.

"You're wearin' my work hoodie, honey."

"Oh I know," You smiled and smiled back.

"Looks good on you, maybe you should keep it, gives me an excuse to go buy a new one, for myself.” She joked and sat down on the bed, crossing her leg over the other.

“I’m good. I know you like this one, Sadie.”

“Speaking of that, I was fixing to buy a new one anyway.” She sees you let a huff of air out.

“That’s what you’re gonna spend like, half of your paycheck on, babe?” You said, and she was already scrolling through the Carhartt site. “Guess so.” You replied to yourself. You sit down next to her as she laid there scrolling through the website, she was focused on looking to buy something new, you let out a little whine, asking for attention.

“C’mere.” She hears you, when you lay down she brings you closer. Sadie sucks in a breath and puts her head back down near your neck and bites a little, making a shock go down your spine. She steadies you when she feels you writhe against her. “Look s’cute in my hoodie..”

You let on a small laugh and a smile picks at the corners of your lips and then you go in to kiss her, snuggling even closer to her body. “I love you,” you say as she peppers kisses to your neck. Your heartbeat quickening.

“I love you too honey.” She keeps going and all you could do was smile, your hands resting on her head, playing with her braid. She sucks a little, which you could imagine would leave a hickey on your collarbone. Sadie and you hadn’t had much time together since the start of her new job in construction. Her calloused hands ran up under the hoodie, feeling over your bare skin, rubbing your waist. “My girl.”

You can feel the rush in your stomach, there was no returning now, things could only go up from here. The familiar feeling of Sadies hair against your skin, and her lips kissing yours. It was never a foreign feeling.

Sadie starts to grab you more aggressively, bringing her hands up to your shoulders, forcing your back to be faced down on the bed, she straddles you, your frame pinned to the bed, her on top of you, a sensation of heat radiating from Sadie. Both of your lips connect in a heavy haste of love. “Sadie,” you pull back from her, out of breath already. Sadie doesn’t respond she was very into you. You repeated breathily, "Sadie?"

“Mm?” She mumbled, placing kisses all over your face and neck.

“Sadie it’s getting hot—” the words tumble out of your mouth, Sadie grumbled lowly and raised her head from you and took off the hoodie. Throwing it to the side of the bed and then taking off your shirt, leaving you in a bra. The cool air hitting you, quickly cooling you down.

She leaves a few hickeys on your chest.

Grasping at Sadie’s tank top, you fumbled with your hands to take it off her body. “I need you.” Sadie said sounding desperate and sexually frustrated, she took off your bottoms, another article of clothing on the floor, discarded from both you and Sadie's bodies. Her hand reaches down to the heat that was pooling between your thighs and you swear to god you flinched, not because you were scared but because of how gentle she was with it, hence the slight rush in actions that she was exhibiting beforehand.

She needed me? How horrible was her work week? You thought, the desperation was visible, no it was right there in her actions.

Your skin started to heat up, you could feel the blush rushing to your cheeks. At first, Sadie rubs your clit through your panties, her thumb slowly circling the wetness that collected in your panties from just Sadie kissing you, and teasing you.

Sadie moves to lay down beside you, fixing herself, her hand moves back down to your abdomen, then stoping at the hem of your panties, taking them off. Your eyes were just watching the blondes every move, then flicking back up to her eyes. You felt so much smaller than her, she always took control and you did not complain at all.

She slips a finger into your wetness, a moan almost slipped from your mouth, but you caught it and bit your lip while looking at her, your hand gripping at her arm and Sadie smiles at you, watching your face and the way you held back your whimpers.

"Don't hide those pretty noises now, girl." She says and you listen. And in one movement she buried a finger into your cunt, pumping it ever so slightly, as if to tease you, like she always loved to do.

"Christ. Sadie.." You felt so good, your fingers trembled as they held onto her.

"S'worked up already, aren't you?" She said playfully, and all you could do was nod. She added another finger, stretching you out. A hint of pain rushed through you but it was quickly replaced with the feeling of pleasure running through your nerves. Your fingernails dug into her arm muscles, Sadie laughs. A moan finally escapes your lips and Sadie swears her ears were blessed. "Good girl," she drags the last syllable of the word, her voice raspy, a predatory gleam flashes through her eyes. She rests her head under your jaw, watching her fingers disappear and reappear each time she thrusted her fingers in you.

The sounds of the wetness between your thighs only seemed to get louder, and Sadie enjoyed it. She removed her head from under your jaw and placed her lips on yours, your little efforts paused for the moment as she lazily kissed you.

You could feel yourself getting there, to that point that you could hardly reach all by yourself when Sadie wasn't there to help you release, to make you feel alright. You chased your high.

Your thighs came together, but Sadie pulled away and used her hand to keep them open, "Nope-- keep 'em like this sweetie."

"But.." You retired, ending your sentence right as it started.

"But what honey?" She playfully chides.

"Nothing."

She continued, and finally, you reached that point. Your sweet juices spilled out, Sadie smiles again. "Come for me, jus' like that. My oh my..”

She watches as you hide your face in her neck and your body shakes against her. Her hand comes to her own mouth and licks the juices off her fingers, groaning a sweet hum at the taste. "All this for me? Such a good girl for me."

When you finally come down, you look Sadie in the eyes through your lashes, half lidded and your breath still shaky.

"How was that?" Sadie pulls away, revealing your face.

"That felt... really good, Sadie." You spoke.

"Im glad. Let me take care of you." She gets up, leaving you there resting on the bed, she walks to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, she comes back into the room. "Drink up, lemme run ya a bath now." She went into the bathroom and turned on the warm water for you.

You rubbed your thighs together, an ache between them even after she finished with you. You could hear the water running, she comes back into the room. "Thank you Sadie, is there- anything I could do for you?" You ask and she giggled, shaking her head.

"I need to make sure you're okay." She helps you up and takes you to the bathroom, you wait for the water to fill the bath tub in front of you. She places a kiss to your head, "I love you, 'kay?"

"I love you too, so much." You smile proudly at her.

a/n if u enjoyed that please feel free to req more!

[littlemissstel]

Miss Detective- Shiu Kong

detective!reader, use of (Y/n), swearing, not proofread

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Shiu gets a visit from an old co-worker who knows a little more than she should.

Shiu sprung up with a sleep drunken expression, cursing out at whatever being dared to disturb his much craved slumber. The poor man had spent more nights awake than days; and while the incessant knocking that threatened to break down his door was irritating, what annoyed him the most was that he knew it couldn't be important. Besides for the old man that lived two doors down asking for help with his thermostat, there were no other reasons for the intrusion; he'd already messed with all the salesmen to the point of being blacklisted and no one from work knew his home address, even going as far to send packages to a separate storage unit.

So why wouldn't they just shut up?

Begrudgingly leaving the warmth of his estranged bed he made his way to the commotion, not bothering to look through the peep hole before swinging the door open with a deep sigh. He hoped the force didn't leave a hole in his precious wall- one more thing to do this weekend- but the exaggerated display felt more than justifiable in the moment.

He scrutinized the audacious figure with squinted eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep that clouded his gaze. The hair...The face...a woman?

You?

"Hello Mr Kong, long time no see." you say, offering a smile that faltered as fast as it came.

Shiu's mouth hung open slightly before moving, though the words struggled to come out as he shook his head in unsettled confusion.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

He slowly steps out, blocking the entrance with his body. You both had worked in the same precinct as detectives years ago and as the time past, the people he once worked with faded from his memory. Yours, however, was becoming ever the more vivid. Working for an established agency there were many people who matched his prowess, you included, though what set you apart was your unmatched ability to get on his nerves. The two of you shared a mutual feeling of contempt as you fought for the recognition you deserved over your peers: taking any measure to avoid working together, being discreet about sharing case information on potential leads- he didn't really need to ask how you found him. As much as he would never admit it, he had faith you could do it simply because you wanted to. But that was a separate lifetime, in Korea, and since he has moved onto more...controversial means of work, he doubted your appearance would bring anything good with it.

And with the way you flashed him your detective badge, ducking under his arm to push past... he knew he was right.

He followed you with hurried steps to the kitchen as you seemingly made yourself at home, discarding your bag on the counter and rummaging through the fridge, stopping occasionally to check the information of an item. He could feel the absurdness of the situation create a surge of exasperation through his veins. Maybe you merely existed to antagonize him. He stood across the room, an island separating you both.

"Get out of my house or hurry up and tell me what you want." His minatory tone would serve as a warning to any other person and had he of known no better- he'd deem you dumb, watching as you continued your thorough inspection.

Closing the fridge with a yogurt in hand you leisurely made your way across the kitchen, opening each draw with a sigh as you presumably looked for a spoon.

"That's no way to talk to an old friend who has a warrant out for your arrest.""

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Suspicion of murder." You peeled back the yogurt lid with an amused expression, "You know i almost laughed when i saw the footage, someone with your expertise being caught by something as simple as a camera- it is laughable isn't it Shiu?"

"I'm not a murderer-"

"But it was even better when your DNA popped up all-too-close to the crime scene-"

"I don't know what hallucinatory state you're in right now-" "HAH!"

"--but I am not a murderer (Y/n). So i suggest you take your business somewhere else." He says gesturing a rough hand to the door.

He wasn't lying. He had never killed anyone before. It was very well possible that DNA could have been traced back to him but other than that you would have no proof of his involvement. Saying that, you shouldn't of been able to come here in the first place. Shiu's heart rate went up for a number of reasons, none of which he could decipher, as he watched you with uncertainty. With more to live for now...he didn't want to test his luck.

"You should stop putting on a front with me, I'm the one who's been covering for you. Yeah, you're not a murderer but I know what you do and by taking out the magical powers and unicorns the rest of the world doesn't know about, I could easily get decades added to your sentence."

It took a moment for Shiu to render what you said, in momentary disbelief of your awareness. You knew about his world--Surely he would have realised if you were able to see curses too? And you chose to live normally? Too much is happening and he's gaining more questions than answers.

Your face brightens as you finally reach into the designated cutlery draw and it makes Shiu feel sick. You bring up the pink toddler spoon and place it into the carton before making eye contact with him for the first time since you entered his home.

"The poor babe."

"Get to the point (Y/n)."

"Why don't we make a deal?" you continue taking his silence as an agreement, "I'll make sure your little activities are covered up if you give me a cut of whatever your making and help me get evidence for other cases."

"That's ridiculous. Get out."

"You forget about your daughter Shiu."

That seemed to be the all you needed to make Shiu's patience dissipate entirely as he stalks over to you, pushing the carton to the side so it fell off the counter and leaning in close.

"I could kill you right now. And then what? No deal, no threats, and life continues as before."

"I've got someone waiting outside with instructions to call for backup if i don't come out in three minutes...you're running out of time."

Fuck. What should he do? What would he do? Go on the run? He couldn't, he had someone else to think about. Irrational thoughts ran rampant in his mind, trying to find, for just a second, a single reasonable solution. What should he do? He releases a breath before slowly standing to his full height.

"We'll discuss how much I'm paying you later."

Your face lights up with that sickening look once again as you match his stance, reaching for your bag and pulling out a burner phone which he takes with hesitance.

"It only has my number on it. I'll call first"

"Leave before you cause a problem." he says and is somewhat grateful when you do just that without a word. He awaited the sound of the doors click before allowing himself to relax, if you had told him what would happen when he first woke up he would've laughed in your face. It did feel like some kind of sick joke.

You had found him, you knew where he lived, that he had a daughter, could see curses. You blackmailed him. Now he wanted to find out why, or maybe he should get Toji to take care of you now that you've left- The scenarios he created became more and more extreme as the minutes went by, though each came with their own major flaws. He couldn't allow the agency to find out about his connection to you, they'd no doubt get rid of you both but maybe- just maybe he could use a few of their connections within the police force to help him out. Get rid of the evidence and then get rid of you. There were many calls to make, but for now, he had to focus on picking up his daughter on time from school.

it's one of those ideas that just need to be put out there and re-evaluated later so i may re-write it, who knows?

Please feel free to leave any ideas/recommendations x

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 51

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Trapped in another holding pattern. That's all that life seems to be. Phases. Dull and prolonged. Waiting but for what?

Your days aren't much different than before Lloyd's return. He may as well have stayed gone. For you, he's not there. He's nothing. He doesn't deserve to be anything to you.

Your routine once more stagnates; sleep and feedings and some crying. Between it all, you see Harlan or Dottie, sometimes both. Your mother-in-law has grown quiet, even evasive, since her son came back. You know why but you won't argue with her or her precious Marion.

You get your walks in, looking forward to the escape from the suffocating walls. Andy passes you often, waving or saying hi. He doesn't try to talk again, not with your father around. They barely acknowledge each other. You ignore his texts. You're still trying to figure it all out.

When you're at home, Harlan holds Luna as you catch up on your reality TV. You whisper back and forth about your most hated personalities. It can never be what it once was, or what you wished it could be, but it's manageable.

That day, Harlan and Dottie go into town to do some shopping. You haven't seen Lloyd but you don't mourn his absence. Not like before.

You have Luna downstairs in her rolling bassinet. She's fully fed and sleepy. You might do some cooking. You're finally feeling up to it.

You shiver and watch your daughter dozing peacefully. Why is it so cold in here? You hug yourself and notice the draft freezing in from the kitchen. You find one of the french doors slightly open and push it shut. You can guess who did it. You should lock him out but you'd rather not provoke a confrontation.

You go back to the front room. Something feels off. You don't know. Maybe it's just the empty house. You check the thermostat then the bassinet. Luna is tucked against the side. She must feel it too.

You make sure the wheels are locked before you flit out to grab a quilt from the nursery. You pant as you get to the top of the stairs. Whew, you still got work to do before you're anywhere close to back to normal.

You snatch the sewn pink blanket and come back down, catching your breath as you sweep through the doorway.

“Lulu,” you say quietly, “gonna swaddle you up–”

You notice the angle of the bassinet. It's not how you left it, almost parallel to the sofa instead. You rush over and nearly scream as the bottom stares back at you empty.

You drop the quilt and spin, searching for any sign of the culprit. You storm back into the foyer and stomp a foot.

“Lloyd!” You bellow, not caring if you wake the babe, “where the fuck are you? Give me my baby!”

Nothing. Just the echo of your anger. You snarl and holler again. Louder.

“LLOYD! I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND!”

You stride forward and go down the hall. Not in the kitchen. Nope, not in the dining room either. You go through the first floor, yelling, then ascend the stairs again. There's no way he could've snuck her up there.

“You motherfucker. Lloyd!” You stop at the top, “it's not fucking funny.”

“Jesus Christ!” You hear a door swing open, then another as he comes out of his bedroom, “what is it now? Wanna call me more names? Push me around?”

He has a towel clutched around his waist as his feet slap on the floor. He glistens, his hair slick and dripping the noise of the shower still buzzing. You gulp and your heart drops.

“Lloyd, give her back.”

“What?”

“Don't. Give me Luna.”

“Luna–” he grimaces, “what the fuck? You serious? You won't let me see her and now– wait, where is she?”

You stand silent in horror. He's a loar to the bone but dammit, he's convincing.

“You took her. I know… I went to get her a blanket and you…”

“I've been in the shower for twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he sneers, “I… she's… gone?”

You croak. It's all you can do. You spin and hurtle back downstairs. You near the bassinet again and squeal. Gripping the sides as panic floods your chest.

“She's gone! Lloyd! My baby! Where is she?!”

You hear him come downstairs and his footsteps rush across the floor, searching everywhere you did. He appears from the kitchen, barely hanging onto his towel. You look at him as he stares at you palely.

“The back door was unlocked.”

“I know, I thought you were out there–”

“Peaches,” he utters as his eyes dilate, “call the police.”

🍑

You're still sobbing as the red and blue flash on the other side of the window. You told the story a dozen times over. It's 2am and you haven't seen Luna in thirteen hours. You feel her absence heavy in your chest.

Your baby. You failed her. She's gone and it's all your fault.

Why didn't you just take her upstairs? Why did you want to cook? Why weren't you watching her? Why didn't you lock the goddamn door?

“Honey,” Harlan clinks down a mug and his weight dips beside you on the couch, “they'll find her. She can't have gone far.”

“No, no, no,” you bawl, head throbbing, “someone took her. Someone– it's all my fault–”

“Shhh, shhh, it's alright. It'll be alright. She got everyone lookin’, they'll find her.”

“I fucked up!” You fold over your lap, “I was selfish--c-c-carlessssss.”

He hushes you again and rubs your back. You can hear the police milling around outside, a few inside still investigating every nook and cranny.

“Ma'am,” an officer approaches, “we're doing what we can but these things can take a while. You know, we got a few volunteers from the neighborhood too and some statements–”

“I don't care! I want my daughter back,” you snap.

“Sorry, officer, she's just…scared,” Harlan slings his arm over your shoulders.

“Understood,” the officer says, “we're doing all we can.”

You sniffle and bury your face in your palms. This can't be real. It is and it's all on you. You wished so many times that Luna would just go away, you didn't want her, you remember that, and now that wish came true. You are a monster.

“Breathe,” Harlan coos as your breath turns shallow and suffocating, “honey, please, you needa–”

“Let me look!” You sit up, so dizzy you nearly keel over, “I wanna look for her.”

“Dear, you already did. You needa rest.”

“No, no!” You shove him away and stand, slippers slapping as you stomp around the couch, “she's my baby, I can find her! I know I will.”

“You won't help. Lloyd's already out there–” Harlan calls after you as he follows.

You hurry through the entryway and burst out the front door. You hear your father swearing as he scrambles for his shoes. The snow crunches under your thin soles as you jog past the cruisers and the uniformed figures.

You turn down the street without a thought. The streetlights flash over you, yellow, then darkness, yellow, dark…. You don't know where you're going. Maybe you want to disappear too.

You hear Harlan calling your name but he's getting further away, not closer. You slow down and cough, lungs burning. You lean on a fence post and bend to collect yourself.

“What are you doing out here?” A drawl brings you straight up.

You squint. You think it's Lloyd at first, you haven't seen him since the police got there. Andy steps into the soft hue of the lightpole.

“I… what are you doing?” You throw the question back at Andy.

“I'm a volunteer firefighter. Heard there was a missing baby so I've been helping. I'm sorry to hear about Luna. I don't know who would do this.”

You shake your head and snivel, “I don't know.”

“I know what it's like to lose a child but… I think… she's out there. It'll be okay. You'll see her again, I know it.”

“I hope,” your voice cracks and wipes your eyes as your grief spills anew, “I should go back.”

He says nothing. You back away and turn, dragging your feet down the pavement. You see the sirens lit up and the distant beans of flashlights. Suddenly, you're caught around the neck, a hand smothering your mouth.

“Do you wanna see her?” Andy whispers as you kick out, “Luna needs her mommy…” he wrestles you out of the cone of light and behind the fence, “so do I.”

You thrash, clawing at his sleeve. Your slippers fly off in your struggle as he squeezes tighter. No, it can't be him.

You were wrong. Again.

[lokiandbuckysdoll]

The Small Things

Thor X Reader

A/N This is something small I wrote as I try to get back into writing again

Thor has always been a bit of a gentle giant, and while he might not always express his feelings with words, his actions speak volumes, especially when it comes to you. He doesn't think much of it—after all, these little gestures come so naturally to him, it never occurs to him that you might notice. But you, being you, see every detail.

You notice that, when you come home after a long day, the house is always just a bit warmer than you left it. Thor, without ever asking, adjusts the thermostat before you arrive because he knows you are always cold, even on the mildest of days. It’s a quiet act, one he doesn’t mention, but you feel it the moment you step through the door, greeted by the comforting warmth that always seems to be waiting for you.

And then there’s the coffee mug— your favorite one, which has the chipped corner from when you accidentally dropped it years ago. You don't have to reach up to the top shelf to grab it anymore. Thor made sure it was always at the bottom, so you could easily find it, even on those groggy mornings when your brain is still catching up to the rest of the world. He never says anything about it, never asks if you noticed. But you do. Every time you pour yourself a cup of coffee, you see it there waiting for you, and your heart warms a little more.

When you're struggling with something, like the grocery bags that always seem too heavy or the occasional mountain of laundry, Thor is right there—without a word, he’ll step in to help. He might grab the heavy bag before you even ask, or fold the laundry when he notices it piling up. He doesn’t think of it as anything special. It’s just Thor being Thor. But for you, it’s everything. It’s the way he silently supports you, showing his care through action rather than grand gestures.

Even the way he always takes a long way home so that you can look out at the sunset, even though he’s in a hurry because he knows you love the colors and find peace in watching it. He never says anything. But you always notice, and it’s in those quiet, unnoticed moments that you feel the depth of his love.

Thor doesn’t realize how much these little things matter. For him, they’re second nature—just small ways to make your life easier or more comfortable. But you? You hold them close, a quiet smile tugging at your lips as you take note of everything he does without expecting thanks, without needing recognition. You know that love doesn’t always shout; sometimes, it whispers in the little, everyday things.

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[fisheito]

*rings the service bell* hi um i was wondering.. if there's any yakumo temperature play in here? sounds silly but i only realised after i circled the building a few times... that i haven't seen it at all. Seems to be common practice, actually- to not have it. i've visited several other buildings and there's been no sight of it.

which is... strange? if i think about it, it's surprising that i haven't encountered it yet! it sort of makes sense to have them together, you know? considering that temperature is so vital to a snake's perception of the world. and how sensitive reptiles are to temperature fluctuations.

so there's a lot of control to be had here. can you imagine controlling someone's energy level just by adjusting the thermostat? er- well, i guess we already do that. but imagine you put yakumo in an ice bath and he immediately falls asleep. brumation happens instantly now, sorry. and the only way to snap him out of it is to stick a flaming dildo up his ass

what?. no, i mean, restore his regular energy level with a soft warm-up. a heated blanket and a gentle steam. hahaha.

people plunge themselves into ice water before jumping into hot tubs and vice versa- for fun! they do this recreationally!! they call it a "spa treatment" and pay a premium for it! what's wrong with giving yakumo a spa treatment? who are we to deprive him of such sensory luxury?

i'm JUST SAYING that since he naturally gravitates toward heat, you could put him in a hurt AND comfort scenario he could be naked and cold, banished to the distant corner of the room.. but when you offer him a source of warmth, whether that be a hot rock or a warm hand or 20 lit candles suspended above him dripping wax on him at random intervals,,, wouldn't he have a tough time turning down your generosity?

i mean, he certainly would if he was tied up.

see, here's the other thing i cannot quite comprehend-- it's that--- how has a snake yokai not featured bondage scenes yet? i guess there was that one time with the.. hm. no, we shan't talk about the cellar. besides, ONLY ONE TIME is unacceptable for a sentient rope!! although yakumo would love to wrap up his prey and squeeze the cum out of em, i feel like we're missing out on a lot by not OutSnaking the Snake. tie up and restrain the Restrainer. it's just a liiiiittle step farther than putting him in a pillowcase! so mild!!!!

here's a guy who is always worried about losing control/// about being free to wreak havoc on his loved ones, despite his best intentions. so how about we give him a moment of peace? a moment where he believes he's subdued and unable to cause harm? just tie him up! keep him under TIGHT lock and key. (or some nice soft cloths for his sensitive skin, if we're being nice.) honestly, his brain will do the rest of the work. even if he's not truly incapacitated, his desire to BE So can fill the gaps in any questionable knotwork.

while he's half in the prison of his mind and half in the confines you've created for him, take some time to squeeze some whimpers out of him. although it pains me to cover up those soggy eyes, a blindfold may be an intriguing option. is yakumo the type of snake to rely on heat vision? WHY NOT FIND OUT! (if he's not terrified at his loss of sight, then i guess his pit organs are functioning . in which case, the blindfold doesn't really need to stay on. if he IS terrified and feels the loss of visuals acutely, this would be an excellent opportunity to soak in his panic. just for a bit though. we're not so cruel. guide him back with a warm touch. see? playing with fire temperature contrasts can bring such relief!)

maybe i'm getting ahead of myself. i don't expect yakumo temperature play to show up WITH bondage , why- that would be asking a lot, right?

but the basics are simple enough, yes? give the wretched creature the comforting warmth he wants, then perhaps inch closer to something bordering uncomfortable? Too Much? have him seek out what he craves, only to be burned (metaphorically and/or literally) if he indulges himself too much? oops! someone's become a slave to their senses!

i'm just saying that the sensory perception of yokai vs kink is (relatively) unknown territory. if temperature play already messes with humans, what could it possibly do to yakumo? he could experience it in facets unknown to others.-=- to levels others are incapable of appreciating---- like someone with synesthesia who can experience music with another layer of enjoyment.

if you give a snake ice cream, followed by a hot piece of meat [unknown origin], it'll really make him aware of the contrast, hmm??????

anyway. sorry about that. i'm not super clear on the specifics of it all. i just thought it peculiar that i haven't seen the yaku-hot-cold-sensitivity-finagling. out there, in here, nowhere as far as i've seen..

...or is it located in a part of the building i overlooked? if so, could you direct me there? i would really appreciate it.

if you don't have it after all, that's ok. i'll keep a careful watch now that i know what i'm looking for. maybe it's one of those things where, once i actively search for it, i'll notice it everywhere! wouldn't that be delightful!

with that, i guess i'll be on my way. thanks for your patience. yeah, i hope i find it too. have a good one!!