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dollfacefantasy · 8 months ago

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WHICH ONE TO CHOOSE?

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield x carlos oliveira

summary: at a halloween party, you and your boyfriend play out a little fantasy with chris and carlos.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, anal, blowjobs, face fucking, foursome, cnc, praise/degradation, intoxication/alcohol, pre-planned roleplay scenario

wc: 4.2k

a/n: it's a little messy but i hope you guys like this one. it's set in an au where re characters are allowed to experience happiness <3 anyways comments, reblogs, and asks are always appreciated.

kinktober slot: day 26 - cnc

Holding Leon's hand tight in your own, you drag him along the cement pathway leading to Rebecca and Billy's front door. Their yard is decked out like it is every year you've been to one of these things. Cobwebs sprawl across the arch ways while purple and orange lights glow in each window. Skeletons hang by the doorway and loud music thumps from inside.

Pushing open the mahogany surface, you stretch your free arm above your head and announce your presence.

Rebecca who's standing near the entryway hears the call of your voice and turns to greet you. A smile spreads across her lips as she takes in you and Leon together.

"There you two are. I was starting to wonder if you couldn't make it this year," she says.

"Pfft. Please, the year we miss one of your parties is the year Leon's horrible driving has taken us out on the way here," you joke, earning chuckles from her and Billy who's come up from behind her.

Leon, in contrast to them, shakes his head before wrapping his arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him.

"Don't encourage her," he tells them with a suppressed smile.

Rebecca playfully rolls her eyes and waves him off. The song switches in the background, going from something low and quick to the slower melody of Eyes Without a Face.

"Really though, it's great to see you both. You guys look great," she praises.

"Thank you," you beam at the compliment, smoothing out the blood-spattered, white dress that covered your figure. Glancing up at Leon, you pull his Jason mask down over his features so that the looks are complete.

"You and Billy look super cute too," you continue as your eyes scan over their simple matching doctor and nurse outfits, Rebecca being the one in the doctor's white coat and the tall man behind her in the little hat with the red cross on it.

She thanks you in return, and the two of you chatter on while you migrate into the living room to join the rest of the party. The usual crowd spans across the main part of the house, from the couches near the fireplace to the bar set up in the kitchen. While you yourself are not a government employee, you'd become friends with almost everyone here who is over the course of your relationship with Leon.

You prance over to Claire and Jill sitting on the sofa first, giving the younger woman a big hug over her shoulders from behind before reaching for Jill and bringing her in too. Claire returns the embrace by covering your forearm with her palm while Jill pats your bicep in acknowledgement.

You take in their costumes too. Claire has ditched her red jacket for the night and instead dons a black sweater with bat wings attached to the back. Jill, on the other hand, looks like she just got off of work, but you suppose soldier could technically be a costume.

"How are you guys? Oh my gosh, Jill it's been so long since I last saw you," you gush.

They give the usual small talk responses, checking in on you as well. Their eyes flit to Leon a few feet behind you with brief waves.

"Have you been keeping him in line?" Claire teases with a smile.

You nod proudly and lean back, wrapping your hands around his arm. "You know it," you chirp.

The small group of you banter back and forth for a while, catching up, talking about plans for the future. Even though these are Leon's friends, you're often much more talkative with them than he is. It's an arrangement that works for you both. You never mind taking the weight of socialization off his shoulders.

After the conversation with Claire and Jill runs its course, the two of you head to the bar. Your hips sway to the pulsing of the music playing while Leon rests a hand on the curve of your side. You and him traverse through the gathering of less familiar faces, friends of friends or newbies you hadn't acquainted yourself with yet. When you reach a clear area on-looking the kitchen, you immediately spot Chris leaning against the wall with a drink in hand. A generic wolf mask sits next to him on the counter, the costume he'd already abandoned.

You dart over to him with a smile on your face, ready to hug him as soon as you're close enough. He startles a little from the sudden contact against his chest, but once he sees it's you, your happiness infects him and softens the look in his eyes. His large palm lands on your back, giving you a few small pats.

"Hey you," he says.

"Hey yourself," you respond and pull back.

He nods at Leon and looks between the two of you.

"Cute costume. You supposed to be Leon's helpless victim?" he teases.

"Mhm," you hum with a nod.

You're about to say something else, but the man in the kitchen who'd been making a drink with his back towards you turns around.

"Carlos?" you say when you catch sight of his face, your smile morphing into a grin.

He wears a similar expression and rounds the counter to be closer. You spring against him with more enthusiasm than you had for Chris, and he returns the sentiment with a crushing grip.

"Oh my god, I didn't know you were gonna be here!" you say.

You hadn't seen Carlos in a while, longer than you hadn't seen Jill. He only came to these things when he was in the area, which wasn't all too often these days. Leon wasn't the closest with him either, but you always thought he was so fun. He was outgoing and funny, charismatic with the perfect level of charm. Plus, it didn't hurt that he looked like a god. To put it in simple terms, you had a little crush on him. Nothing too serious but definitely enough to trigger involuntary butterflies in your stomach when you saw him.

"I think Leon wanted it to be a surprise," he says with a little smirk.

You glance at your boyfriend. He nods at you with a knowing look, still watching you in the other man's arms.

Even without words you know what it means. While your touchy behavior would have been an absolute no with any of your past partners, Leon didn't share that same possessive outlook on the matter. He enjoyed watching you be all over others only to be the one that got to take you home. He liked when his friends like Chris or Carlos lusted over you, trying to cop a feel during a hug or speaking as if you're available for the taking. It just prodded at some primal part of his brain that he didn't have control over. None of it ever upsets him. He doesn't get jealous, he gets horny.

That aspect of his personality was why Carlos's appearance was a surprise for you. Tonight after the party, you and your boyfriend had already made plans with Chris, but obviously now, Carlos was going to be involved too, and that was more than ok with you.

You press your cheek to his chest and tighten your arms that are already wrapped around him.

"You look so good. You totally need to visit more often," you say to the bulky man against you.

He chuckles, giving you another small squeeze in return. "For you, I would," he teases, his hand grazing over your ass as he lets you go.

A giggle trickles from your lips, and you follow him back around the counter to the main part of the kitchen. From here, you get a good look at his body. He's muscular as ever, his tight white shirt only accentuating that mass. In your excitement, you hadn't noticed his costume which was similar to yours. White fabric with red dye flicked across it. Only he had some face make up too. You guessed a zombie or something in that vein.

He catches your stare. "You really missed me, huh?" he asks teasingly.

"Of course I did," you say, "Now are you gonna pour me a drink, or do I have to do it myself?"

He laughs and grabs a few nearby bottles, pouring a mix into a black cup for you. Passing it into your hands, he watches you take the first drink.

Things would only get better from there.

Over the next few hours, you get yourself buzzed. You gulp down each drink you're handed with joy. The smile gracing your features grows hazy, your eyes become cloudy and your voice gets extra giggly.

Suddenly, you're super touchy. Your hand lands on the forearm of whoever you're speaking too. Sometimes it trails up a bit, teasing the bicep of the person. You bite your lip more and nod emphatically at points that probably don't deserve it. Leon keeps an eye on you, but so do Carlos and Chris.

After a while, you migrate over to the open area closer to the speakers. You dance to the blaring music, your body bobbing around to the pulsating beats. Even though Leon had never been one for dancing, he holds your hips and grinds up against you from behind. You feel his breaths on your neck and the tip of his nose brushing your jawline.

The song switches over to something with more guitar rather than synth, and a firm set of fingers wraps around your wrist. The mysterious force tugs you to them, but becomes a lot less confusing when you look up and see Carlos smiling down at you.

"Mind if I cut in for a second, Kennedy?" he asks.

Like he's supposed to, Leon stares him down before tersely shaking his head. This was all part of the game of course. Everyone had to play their part to earn the high score with you.

You giggle and lean into him, your head resting against the plush muscles in his chest. He starts swaying the two of you to the music. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon move to the wall where Chris is standing. Carlos keeps you focused though, grabbing your chin and turning you back towards him.

He guides your movements. His hips roll against yours in deep motions. One of his muscular arms is wrapped around your back while the other sits in the position to hold your ass. Both feel so good, like live wires resting against your skin.

You dance with him. Your arms rise up and drape around his neck. You follow his movements, letting him take you through the sequence with ease. it makes your head spin. Not only the thrill of being with someone else, but the feeling of your boyfriend watching on.

All the excitement swirling with the liquor leaves you feeling kind of dizzy as the song ends. You stumble back from Carlos. He reaches for you, trying to make sure you stay up right and don't go crashing down on your ass in front of everyone. That isn't part of the plan.

"'m fine," you say, "Just gotta go to the bathroom real quick."

Waltzing away, you snake around the furniture without any grace and make your way to the hall that leads to the rest of Billy and Rebecca's home. You find the door to the bathroom easily, but opening it doesn't come with the same lack of difficulty.

Before you can process what's happening, someone is right behind you. Your hand rests on the cool knob. A little shudder goes through you at the feeling of the weight against your back.

"Are you sure you're ok, princess? You look a little wobbly," rasps Carlos directly into your ear.

"I'm fine," you say again, this time with a little more whine in your voice.

"I don't know... you look like you're barely standing on your own," he murmurs in your ear, "I think your boyfriend would want me to look after you."

His hands slide around on your waist. They coast up over your ribs to cup your breasts through your dress. You pant at the touch, your skin breaking out into chills.

"No... I don't, 'm fine. I'll be right back..." you say. Your voice sounds airy and distant. The movement of your hands match as they fruitlessly try to push his hands down.

He chuckles, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling beside your head. Pulling you backwards, his back lands against the wall and your body presses into him. His arms close around you in a tighter circle.

"Cute girl like you... I just don't think you should be left alone," he teases.

You whimper and squirm your hips, pushing them back against his pelvis. He lets out a soft groan at the sensation and keeps you right there.

"Look at you, just asking for someone to take advantage," he whispers.

You're about to turn your head to look up at him, but before you can, a new set of fingers nudges your chin upward in their owner's direction. Chris stares into your eyes, smirking at how helpless you look.

"He's right, sweetheart," he chides, "You're lucky you have us watching out for you."

His voice is husky as he leans closer. You can feel his breath fanning over your face.

"The way you were prancing around out there, showing yourself off in your little dress... anyone could've followed you back here. And who could blame them? Who wouldn't want a taste?" he continues.

His fingers skim your thighs and ghost over the space below the white hem. They toy with the fabric, teasing the idea that they'll peel it upwards to reveal the lacy panties you wear underneath.

Another pathetic noise trickles from your lips because you want him to. God, you want him to. You'd let them both ravish you right there in the middle of the hall. One holding you in his strong arms while the other pumped his dick in and out of your slick cunt.

Carlos noses at your jaw. His lips graze over your pulse point while his hands grope your breasts with more intent. There would be no mistaking his touches as accidental now. He grabs at them through your dress, pinching at your hardening nipples over the barrier.

You rock your ass back against him again. "Guys... we can't..." you babble as heat floods your body.

"Why not, princess?" Chris asks. He presses his front against your thigh, letting you feel his swelling bulge.

Your legs squirm and drift together. You try to squeeze your thighs for some friction, but he knocks them back apart with one of his knees.

"Leon... I'm with Leon," you breathe, doe eyes looking up at him with all the desire in the world.

"Oh, Leon, huh?" Carlos croons, "Would Leon have a problem with the way you’re rubbing up on me? With the way your pussy is dripping for Chris."

You whine and bite your lip before speaking. "It's not," you whimper.

"It is, baby," he says. One of his hands starts to slither South. "You're telling me that if I slipped my fingers under your dress and into those pretty panties, that I wouldn't feel you completely soaked for us? Is that what you're saying?"

Before you can defend yourself further, someone clears their throat from the end of the hall.

All of your heads snap in that direction to find Leon standing there, stiff as a board. He has his arms crossed; though, almost immediately they shift to rest on his hips. He looks like a disapproving parent staring at the three of you with disapproval all over his features.

Still, his harsh expression doesn't conceal the outline of his stiff cock in his pants.

"I don't think that's appropriate, guys," he says, "Feeling up on my girlfriend while she's telling you she has me?"

"It's not like that, Leon. We're watching out for her. Making sure she doesn't get into trouble. We're doing you a favor," Carlos grins. His hands drop from your breasts to your waist, but he makes sure to give the area a squeeze to let you know he's not done.

"Mhm. You know how she gets when she's been drinking," Chris says to him.

"I mean look. She may be saying no, but her body was just about begging for us," Carlos adds.

Your boyfriend hums in acknowledgement and watches with the same unyielding eyes. "Still don't think this is the place to deal with it," he says.

They both huff out laughs. "Probably not," Chris agrees.

"Some privacy would be best," Carlos continues.

You stand there, trying not to squirm as they talk like you're not even there. None of them look at you nor directly address you. The conversation is between them, deciding your fate. You just wait to be handed your sentence.

"Maybe we should head back to our place. Make sure the booze didn't get to her too much," Leon proposes, as if it was entirely his idea he thought of in the moment.

"Sounds good to me," Carlos says, patting your hip before boosting you forward.

"Same here," Chris grins.

You stumble over to your boyfriend who takes you under his arm. He looks down at you as if he's disappointed, though you can see the desire in his eyes. The two of you snake back through the hall and toward the front door.

"Were they bothering you, sweetheart?" he asks like he's truly concerned.

"Mhm," you hum and nod against his chest.

Your pair keeps walking, waving at Rebecca and Billy and giving them brief thank you's before walking back outside into the brisk October air.

Like you planned Chris and Carlos wait a little before following your path. None of you wanted to make it too obvious what you had planned for the rest of the night.

Each of you makes it back to your and Leon's house in record time it seems. He drives you and himself while the other two trail on their own. They enter through your front door only a few minutes after you and your boyfriend settle on the couch.

After that feels like a blur. There's hands all over you. They pass you around from one lap to the other. Your clothes fall to the floor piece by piece until you're left bare. They talk but rarely to you. The voices and touches all swirl together in one big mess until the three of you land in a collective position.

Leon looms above you, his piercing eyes locked onto your face. His hips roll against your center. He pumps his cock deep between your soaked velvety walls with each precise thrust. His hands cradle the back of your thighs, keeping them spread apart so that you can't shut him out. He grins down at you.

"You might think it's too much, baby, but she clearly doesn't," he teases, "So, so wet."

"I'm not even in your pussy, and I can feel that. Such a messy girl," the voice behind you says.

Chris sits below you. His warm bulky thighs support the parts of you Leon's hands can't. Your back rests against his chest while his strong hands play with your nipples. His dick is buried snug inside your ass. He's not moving, thank god. The stretch is enough to nearly reduce you to tears.

"She's messy up top too," the man above you adds with a grin, his thumb swiping away some spit that had dribbled from the corner of your mouth.

Carlos had your head between his palms. He kept a firm grip on you as leverage to rock his hips, sliding his length into the plush wetness of your throat. Deep groans and sighs leak from his mouth as his head falls back.

You whine around the girth of his shaft, but you can't squirm. There's so much going on. Even though you're in a relatively simple position, it feels as though you're tangled up with the three men surrounding you.

"No backing out now, baby. This is what you wanted," Leon taunts as he thrusts.

"Such a little slut. Your boyfriend isn't enough for you, huh?" Chris teases, nipping at the shell of your ear.

You whine louder around Carlos as he fucks your face, but he takes no mercy. He doesn't slide out to let you defend yourself. He slides as deep as he can, nestling your nose against the thick dark hair that curls above the base of his cock.

"Sounds like a yeah to me," he chuckles.

A soft gagging noise echoes from your throat and your eyes water. He holds his position for a few seconds longer before pulling back to give you a few moments to breathe. You gasp in a few breaths. Your head spins with the return of sufficient oxygen. But you still feel hazy from the two cocks inside you, one unmoving and keeping you constantly full, the other rocking back and forth, striking every little spot inside you.

"Leon," you cry. Your head falls back on Chris's shoulder, "Too much."

He smirks at your repeated protest and keeps going. "Nope. You can handle it, babydoll. You wanted to play with other guys, so I'm letting you."

Chris's fingers rub at your clit, causing you to tighten up around Leon. He hisses from above, but it only makes him move faster. The harder thrusts rock you on Chris's length. He grunts from the added stimulation and keeps the rough pads of his digits twirling around your sensitive little nub.

"That's right, sweetheart. Just relax and take it," he mutters in your ear.

Carlos strokes your cheek while jerking his cock right in front of your face. You watch as precum pearls at the tip, dripping from the slit in sticky beads.

"Fuck... you're pretty, so fucking cute," he mumbles from above you.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. The urge to squirm becomes more pronounced. Your clit throbs under Chris's tender fingers while your walls clamp down on your boyfriend.

"Wanna cum," you whimper desperately.

"What happened to too much? Thought you said no more?" Carlos mocks.

"Don't care. Just wanna cum now," you cry. Your lip juts out into a quivering pout as you feel the pleasure growing more intense and spreading from between your legs all throughout your body. Tears dew at your waterline, making your lashes shimmer.

"Again? So greedy," Chris tuts from behind.

But in front, Leon nods with self-satisfaction all across his face. "You can cum, angel. Go ahead. Just know it won't be the last one."

You whine at the idea. You wanted release so bad, but you were already so overstimulated. It's not like you had any control over it though. You were climbing to the peak fast, and there was no way of going back down. Watching Carlos stroke himself to the sight of you getting your insides rearranged had your tummy fluttering with the urge to let go.

You try to hold it. Try to prolong it a bit more so that they're closer and cum with you. But at a certain point, you can't hold back anymore. Your back arches off of Chris's chest, and your whines fill the air. You shudder in his arms, quivering between him and Leon. Release crashes over you, wave after wave. It feels like the euphoria will never end when Leon finally groans and bursts inside you.

His cum floods your insides, filling you up just how you need it. He tilts his head back and sighs as the feeling seeps into him. As you're feeling the added effects from his high, Carlos reaches his. He moans nice and loud before painting your face with white streaks. The warm sticky liquid lands on you in patternless blotches.

You whimper but not in protest. It was what you wanted. The only thing that would make it better is Chris filling up your other hole too, but he stays hard and still, not giving in just yet.

Your boyfriend comes to a halt with his thrusts and slowly pulls out. Some of his cum leaks out as his length leaves your cunt. You whine at the empty feeling.

"Hush," he murmurs as he steps back. He catches his breath from a distance, but he knows none of you are done. Even with him and Carlos temporarily spent, they'd get it back up soon enough. "So needy. You still got one of us inside you, and you're complaining."

"Easy thing to do is to just give her what she wants again," Carlos says, "You and I could switch since Redfield seems comfortable."

Your boyfriend nods, looking between you and the other man.

"Sound good, baby?" he asks as if you actually get a say, "Carlos will put another load in your pussy, and I'll let you actually swallow mine this time around."

Even though your cunt aches with all the pleasure it's endured and your jaw feels sore from taking a dick in your mouth for the last however long... you nod. Despite what you said, you hadn't had enough. You really didn't know if you ever would.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield smut #chris redfield imagine #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira smut #carlos oliveira x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil imagines #ch: leon kennedy 💌#ch: chris redfield 💌#ch: carlos oliveira 💌

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godmadeaterribleerror · 6 months ago

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Still You Want Me

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.

Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.

Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“

Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“

“You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“

“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“

“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”

“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”

“She’s my freakin’ wife-“

“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“

“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“

Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“

“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”

Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.

Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he’d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.

Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer.

But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.

That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-

“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”

“Wha-“

Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“

“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“

“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“

“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“

“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“

“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“

“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“

Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“

“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“

“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“

“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“

“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“

“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“

Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“

“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“

Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”

There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.

“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“

“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone.

But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-

“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“

Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“

He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“

“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”

“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”

Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”

Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.

They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.

Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.

He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“

Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”

“No, the music was on, I know you said-“

Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”

Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“

“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”

Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“

“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”

Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.

“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”

“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“

“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“

“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”

“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.”

Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“

“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”

“Sammy-“

Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“

“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”

“But I could-“

“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“

Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”

“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”

“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”

Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“

“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”

It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”

“Dean!”

He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.

“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“

“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“

Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“

“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“

Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down.

Usually.

“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“

Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“

“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“

“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“

She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“But I’ve been mean-“

“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“

“He said you had mood swings.”

She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest. “You’re a snitch-“

“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”

She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room.

And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.

Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.

Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them.

End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.

Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@Youdontknowwe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

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dark-moonlust · 8 months ago

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The Griffin’s Claim

Pairing: griffin x f!human reader Summary: your mate is obsessed with flying in the sky while you are strapped to his cock. He wants to keep your pussy stretched and filled. Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+!!, oral(fem receiving), tail stimulation, big 🍆, p in v sex, flying while strapped, lots of 💦.

This is one of my top fav smut. Please let me know if you liked it!!!

It was a lovely morning, and you had just finished your chores at the village. You walked deep within the forest, then headed up the slope, waiting at the clearing. It had been six months since you’d started dating your griffin, and despite your differences you had learned how to work things out. Interspecies matings were rare but not impossible in your age and time. With patience, you had even managed to take your boyfriend’s monster cock, though he was still training you to accept more pleasure.

At that thought, your pussy became wet and you rubbed your thighs to alleviate the need.

You heard your mate approach before you saw him.

The dense forest around you seized to exist as the powerful griffin you called yours, descended from the sky. He flapped his powerful wings with its colorful feathers, his body strong and lean, that of a lion. He had the head of an eagle, a long tail and wings that spanned wide across the sky. His eyes were sharp and bright amber, and they could see miles ahead.

Right now, his eyes were fixed on you as he landed gracefully before you. He was huge and tall, four times your height and tones heavier. But he was also so tender with you. He held you close to his tawny lion coated body, his wings coming to envelope your smaller frame. You buried your face in his fur, feeling completely protected while his beak nuzzled against your face.

“Ready to go home, my mate?” he asked, his voice husky. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, my love.”

Smiling you prepared to ride his back when he stopped you with a soft click of his tongue. “Aren’t you forgetting something, sweetheart?”

You pouted, shifted nervously because you knew what he meant. He wanted to strap you to his cock while flying. It was one of his ways to stretch your pussy. You had tried it a couple of times, always in the dead of the night when no one could see you. You still recalled how deep he had fucked you while soaring the sky. And the orgasms… they were so intense and toe-curling.

“Again? I… I don’t know if I can do this,” you muttered, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and thrill.

“You’re my mate,” he said, his shining amber eyes gazing into yours. “You can do this and you should be proud of that. Proud of taking my cock so beautifully.”

His words caused more liquid heat to pool in your pussy. “But… it’s broad light and someone might see. It’s shameful.”

He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Shameful? No, my sweet. It’s necessary. Because your tight pussy needs lots of preparation. It will take me at least half an hour to fly us back to our home, and that’s more than enough time to stretch your soaked little cunt around my cock.”

“People might see…” you trailed off, eyes lowering to the ground.

“Oh, I will make sure they see how gorgeous you are.”

With a gentle yet firm grip, he turned you around, lowering you on your hands and knees. You whimpered but obeyed as his large, clawed hands tore your clothes, tossing them away. You felt the sun kiss your bare skin. He really was going to prepare you for this. And your treacherous core clenched at that thought.

Sitting down behind you, your mate caressed the lines of your body, careful of his claws. “Smooth and soft.”

Strong hands cupped your breasts, enfolding them completely in his strong grip. He felt them up, massaging the pert mounds that were far too small in contrast to his massive palms. He rubbed around your aching nipples, flicking the buds. You whined and pressed back against him, seeking more. His touch trailed down your belly and he gripped your hips, spreading your legs apart and bearing your pussy and ass to his view.

“Let’s loosen you up so you can take my cock deep, hmm?” he said, his voice a husky whisper.

“Please… it’s so open here—”

“Be a good girl for me,” he said, slapping your bum lightly and causing you to jerk.

“Hey!”

Another slap, this time closer to your pussy.

You whined and wiggled your ass.

“Be good or else I’ll fuck both your naughty holes, cock in your pussy, tail in your ass.”

You stayed still at the (delectable) threat. “I’ll be good.”

Chuckling darkly, he leaned closer and opened his wings to shield you as his hot breath ghosted over your pussy. You bit back a whine and closed your eyes when he licked you up, his wide tongue lapping at your entrance. You clutched the soil and moaned softly as he ate you out, tilting his head slightly to the side, so that he didn’t hurt you with his beak. His tongue was blessedly long and it worked its way inside you, stretching and fucking your hole until you were panting with need, your embarrassment giving way to pleasure.

“Look at you,” he purred as he watched your pussy flutter. “So wet, so ready for me. Fuck… I want to be so deep inside you.”

Before you could respond, he positioned his front legs at the sides of your head, his underbelly pressing against your spine. The tip of his massive cock pressed against your entrance, probing carefully. It popped in with a wet sound and you both moaned loudly. A slow, deliberate thrust and he pushed further inside, pushing past the resistance of your body, filling you inch by inch. You cried out and arched back, the stretch almost too much to bear once he bottomed up inside you.

The angle was intense, his cock filling you so deep that your belly bulged with his size. You felt the fat head kissing your cervix, his ridges and protrusions stimulating your walls. Taking his dick seemed almost impossible but not painful, even if you were a human. You were his fated one, it was the reason why you could mate so intimately with him.

“Damn, so tight,” he growled as he thrusted deep, drawing back his cock which was laved in your juices before slamming back in. “But you’re taking me so well, such a good mate. Such a good cunt.”

His tail sneaked between your thighs, the tip rubbing your clit. You blabbered inarticulate words, your body trembling beneath him, his deliberate ministrations blindsiding you. Mating and fucking your monster boyfriend was no simple job. It took much more work than a regular human relationship. But you’d change nothing. You wanted him so much and it felt so good to be filled by him, body and soul.

Wet squelching sounds echoed through the clearing as you rocked against your mate, taking his monster shaft over and over. Your cunt stretched and tried to suck him in, fitting him like a glove. He growled and pounded his talons on the ground and it didn’t take long for both of you to reach your peak.

You came first, white-hot pleasure exploding like lightning bolts and taking over your body. Your whole frame trembled violently as he buried his shaft deep and released with a shrill, probably alerting the whole forest. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your insides, his seed like a torrent at first then turning into ripples that slowly stopped.

Drawing back, his large cock left your pussy with a lewd squelch. You whined, feeling his seed trickle down your folds then drenching your thighs. Turning you head gently, his beak traced your lips in imitation of a kiss. When you opened your mouth, his long, flexible tongue slipped inside to explore your mouth. Your tongues danced together, and you tasted your arousal on his tongue.

”Now, let’s get you strapped on, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes glinting down at you.

“Pl…ease,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea. “It’s too much…”

“Is it painful, little one? Is that why you are so against it?”

“No!” you said firmly. “It’s just… I’m so sensitive, I’m gonna cum again—”

“Great. I want you cumming again and again, making a mess all over.”

With that, he rolled you on your back and lowered his body, so you were under his lion underbelly. Using his beak, he released the leather bindings at his sides and pressed even closer to you, his cock throbbing against your cum-stained pussy. Gulping audibly, you looked at his shaft; it had a stout round tip and surrounding ridges and protrusions along its length. And it was still rock hard, jutting against your folds proudly.

Your breath hitched when he thrust forward, impaling you in one smooth glide. You were far too wet and he stretched you open once again, taking away your ability to think with how deep and big he was. This time he didn’t fuck you. He stayed buried deep inside, your belly bulging against his own.

“Now strap the bindings safely around you,” he ordered softly, his eyes leaving no room for refusal.

Breathing shakily, you began to secure the buckles that cradled your bum, then the ones that fastened around your waist. It wasn’t an easy task… with his cock throbbing deep inside you and his fur rubbing against your sensitive nipples. After some minutes of fumbling and moaning at the friction, you managed to seal your body to his, both of you locked as one. You wrapped your arms around his body, your legs up in the air.

Your mate tested the security of the bindings, shifting to his full height, taking you with him. Suspended in the air, you nearly sobbed at the sensations. The slightest movements caused his cock to plunge and tease your insides. Your mate growled low, affected by the feel of you as he walked back and forth, with your weight under him, his cock pulsing inside you. Then he stood on his back talons, embracing you with his front legs. Just to make this doubly secure.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s how I want you to take me. All the time.”

You could only hum and he spread his wings, his powerful muscles flexing as he prepared to fly. With a mighty leap, he took to the sky, the wind rushing against your skin, combined with the constant pressure of his cock inside you. Each beat of his wings took you high above the trees until the forest landscape became a distant blur. His cock drove you wild, and you couldn’t help but moan loudly, the sound lost in the flapping of his wings.

“That’s it,” he said loud enough for your to hear. “My perfect human mate, so full and stretched around me.”

The fly back home passed in a blur of moans and bliss. He gave you one orgasm after another, his seed filling you, leaking down your thighs in obscene amounts. He floated low enough to show you off, roaring proudly as he marked you for all to see, the scent of him bathing you. By the time you reached home, you were covered in his cum, exhausted but blissfully fucked.

Please let me know what you think? Comments and reblogs would make me super happy!

#griffin smut #griffin x reader #griffin x you #griffin fuckers #monster x reader #monster x you #monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster lover #monster fucker #monster fudger #monster romance #monster x female reader #terat0philliac #terato #monster kink

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maximumzombiecreator · 9 months ago

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Since I've had a few people asking about megadungeon stuff recently, and I am an avowed megadungeon megafan, I thought it might be fun to walk through an actual example of megadungeon play that exemplifies what I like best about it.

This post is going to be the first in a series talking about a room from a megadungeon that I ran over 20 years ago (brushing past that fact quickly lest the horrors set in.) It was a major room, probably the most complex and important in the dungeon, and the players passed through it frequently throughout the campaign. In this post I'll introduce you to the room, and then in later posts I'll talk about what it does well and how to use that lesson more generally. Below the cut is a reproduction of the map as I remember it.

Without getting into The Lore too deeply, some dwarves accidentally dug into hell, as one does. Classic trope, nothing wrong with using them. They quite sensibly shut the mine down and sealed if off, but word got out. A human king heard about this, and took over the mine, expanding it into a temple complex to curry favour / barter with hell. It went badly, as such things do.

This concourse connects several wings of the dungeon, spanning several floors. An enormous devil face statue emerges from the northern wall, above the second floor balcony and below the fourth, and a column of light shines through a hole in the ceiling onto the center of the floor. Several floors of balconies overlook the chamber, though the stairs to the fourth floor balcony have long since collapsed.

This chamber was not too far from the main entrance, with the party first encountering it on their second delve into the dungeon, though it would take two more delves for them to gather the courage to enter it. At the time they first encountered it, it was swarming with imps and other little devils worshipping the big face.

I'll summarize the key:

A. Hallway from the Entry Chambers, the first and easiest section of the dungeon.

B. Doorway to the Pilgrim's City.

C. Doorway to the Unholiest of Unholies. Sealed and warded against simple spells.

D. Doorway to the Old Dwarven Quarters.

E. Doorway to the Nobles' Section. Barred from the far side.

F. Portcullis to the Pilgrim's City. The mechanism has rusted out and no longer functions.

G. Doorway to the Halls of the Clergy.

H. Doorway from the King's Inner Sanctum.

I. Doorway to the Archive.

J. Doorway to the King's Inner Sanctum, locked.

K. Doorway to The Indulgences.

Stairway from floor 1 to floor 2.

Light from the hole in the ceiling.

Broken stairs from floor 2 to floor 4.

Big ole devil face. Its eyes are a one-way illusion, allowing anyone within the face to view the room below.

Okay that's a lot, thanks for sticking it out. While I don't want to wander too far off topic into the rest of the dungeon, I'll just briefly note that the Pilgrim's City and Old Dwarven Quarters are easier sections of the dungeon, the Nobles Section and Halls of the Clergy are slightly more difficult, the King's Inner Sanctum, Archive, and Indulgences are very dangerous, and the Unholiest of Unholies is, as one might expect, where the worst things (and best loot) in the dungeon are. This was 2nd edition AD&D, so there was not a presumption of fights being balanced, and traipsing through more dangerous sections of the dungeon at lower levels wasn't uncommon. The players also understood the varying levels of danger fairly implicitly, since the custom at the time was that any time you went a level further away from whatever the ground floor was, things got more dangerous. The only exception to this is the Unholiest of Unholies and I think we can agree that when it's beyond a magically sealed door under a giant devil head the danger is telegraphed.

Next post I'll start talking about what made this room work so well in practice.

#ttrpg #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop gaming #dnd #d&d #megadungeon

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ultravi0lence14 · 7 months ago

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Born In The U.S.A

dean winchester x angel!reader

1.3k | fluff, fem pronouns

summary: in a spur of the moment decision, dean decides to take his wide eyed angel on a road trip to see all of his favourite places in america.

“dean, are we there yet?” your sweet voice drifted through the small confines of baby, sending a smile onto dean’s face as he counted that being the fourth time you’ve said that in the span of five minutes.

you were so used to flying wherever you needed to go, that it took dean a good couple of months to explain to you that driving took a little more time than your usual choice of wing transportation.

he gave your thigh a light squeeze with the hand resting on it, turning his head slightly so he could see your bewildered expression. “almost there, sweets. just another hour or so.”

you and dean had spent the past couple of days in the impala together, driving around different places in america so he could show you his all time favourite spots.

he had realized you didn’t know much about earth, and in a last minute decision, he whisked you away from the bunker and left sam and cas to deal with any up coming cases.

dean hadn’t expected you to be so ecstatic. he was expecting you to worry about leaving the workload on sam and your brother. though he was greatly surprised when you jumped into his arms, hands hugging tightly around his neck as you peppered countless kisses on his face and neck.

the excitement confused him slightly, asking you why you weren’t worried. you just smiled at him, revealing that you’ve been undergoing an unfamiliar feeling of need for dean and just dean. you wanted some alone time with him, and dean winchester wasn’t one to complain about that.

so the two of you set off on your journey, the open road and dean’s favourite american destinations in front of you.

the stops you two had been on were pretty eventful. dean had started off in chicago, parking his car and taking you on a stroll throughout the city. you were confused on what he wanted to show you until the two of you stopped in front of what dean called ‘the big bean’. you looked at him bewildered, dean’s excited face confusing you more. your lips parted with lack of words before you looked at dean with a subtle look of wonder. “why is it called that, dean? it’s just a giant, metal blob.”

he followed up your trip to chicago with the next stop being in north carolina. dean brought the two of you to a truck stop, explaining that this was the first place his dad let him drive the impala. he followed that up with going inside the small convenience store attached and buying you a shirt that said ‘truck life or no life’. he ended up taking a picture of you wearing the shirt, you wearing an even more confused face to match. he posted it to his friends only facebook page, the caption reading, “my angel is better than yours.”

your last stop was in minnesota, dean pulling into a sleepy looking diner that had you fearing for what he had up his sleeve. though you were thoroughly surprised that all dean had in mind was expressing his love for what he called ‘the best apple pie in the whole damn world.’

countless times you told him it was a waste of time to come here. that all food tasted like molecules and you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. dean didn’t seem to care though. he just kissed you on the cheek, leaving a slight residue of apple filling as he spoke through a mouthful of pie, “with you here, it’s all i could ever dream of.”

now you two had been driving for a day or two, not stopping until you got to maine; per dean’s request. you didn’t know what he had in store for this state, but you were starting to get antsy trying to figure out what it could be.

dean seemed way to calm for your liking. classic rock cassette taps playing in the background as his fingers tapped the beat on your leg. the angelic side of you wanted to worry, but the other side that loved and trusted dean with your entire being said otherwise.

as he turned onto a dirt road that was off the side of the highway, your bewilderment grew ten fold, not understanding where dean was going to take you. the impala rumbled to a stop, your curiosity leading you to lean forward and get closer to the windshield to a get a better look at where dean had taken you.

in an instant it all made sense. the willow tree that overlooked a mossy pond took over your vision, and dean was grinning ear to ear as you whipped your head to look at him with a surprised smile on your face.

“dean,” you breathed out, opening the car door and stepping out into the earthy atmosphere. “this is the place where we met for the first time.”

“it is, sweets. possibly the best place america has to offer.” the grin on dean’s face could outshine a million suns, following behind you as you slowly walked towards the droopy tree. the two of you had met here around one year ago; castiel had heard static over angel radio, implying at a rogue angel was coming down to earth.

you’d rebelled like cas, seeing all the good that he was doing for humanity and disagreeing with the harsh and lucrative beliefs of the angels. when you fell underneath that willow tree, wings and grace gone, you were so confused, harbouring the knowledge of millennia and eons with no knowledge in how humans operated in today’s society.

when cas quickly transported sam and dean to the location in a remote location in maine, the group of three found you huddled underneath the willow tree, soaked to the bone from landing in the pond and shaking like a leaf. your knees were brought to your chest and you were rocking back and forth, reminding dean of a petulant child who just got caught doing something they shouldn’t.

the brother’s decided that cas should approach you. and when he did, you looked up at him with these big and wet eyes that had dean’s heart breaking in half. he heard you mumble a, “why do i feel like this, castiel? why is there this hollow pit in my stomach making everything feel so empty?”

“you’re experiencing human emotions, most likely a sense of heavy sadness.” his gentle nature and smile brightened your face a bit, allowing you to follow his actions as he softly gripped your elbow and raised you to your feet.

“come with us,” dean spoke lighter than he’s ever heard himself. “we’ll teach you how to live.”

the rest was history, and now, dean stood under the same tree where he saw you for the first time. he remembers how scared you were that day, eyes fleeting over the bunker like something was going to jump out and kill you.

for a couple of months you were in a rough place. missing your brother’s and sister’s while slowly adapting to human life. dean was by your side the whole time, and those moments spent together was what grew the profound bond between you two. this is when dean started to feel his heart stop and clench anytime you came into a room; the time he fell in love with you.

“dean, this is amazing.” there was a teary lilt to your voice, and in an instant you’d turned around and collapsed into dean’s arms. he was warm against the biting air, bringing you close into his body as his hands found purchase in stroking your hair.

“thank you.” the two words left your mouth in breaths, smushing against dean’s chest as he smiled down at you, leaving a kiss on the crown of your head.

pulling away from you at an arms length, following up by wrapping his arm around your shoulder, dean walked the two of you towards the willow tree, a little smile decorating his face. “honestly angel, we can just tell people you were born here. no one needs to know. though to me, you’ll always be born in the u.s.a.”

“isn’t that the song sam likes?”

“oh sweetheart, i have so much more to teach you.”

*dean totally has a facebook account with only ten followers where he posts almost 10 times a day and i’ll die on that hill.

tags: @a1ecmcdowell @jasvtsc @ostaramoon @cosmicanakin @fallbhind @aylacavebear @rubyvhs

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #imagine #supernatural x reader #fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x angel!reader #dean winchester one shot

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hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf · 1 year ago

Text

Brother

best friend’s brother!mingi x fem reader

Trigger warnings: none

Content warnings: oral (f receiving), names ( babygirl, baby, good girl, angel), ass slapping, unprotected sex, cream pie, mingi's got a big dick (bc ofc he does)

Summary: your best friend's brother finally makes a move

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: hi angelssss i hope you like thisssss i had brain rot and wrote this in the span of maybe six hours total while i was at work. also message me or comment if you'd like to be on my tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

“Come on, you’re gonna love it! I promise.” Your best friend tugged at your arm, leading you up the front steps and into her family home. The house was large and you were certain that all of the rooms weren’t used. There was no way a family of four could make total use of a space so large.

“But this is a family event, babes. Are you sure?” You asked nervously, looking around as you toed your shoes off with trepidation.

“I’m positive. You’re my chosen family so you still count.” She squeezed your hand and you nodded slowly, taking in the massive foyer. A glittering chandelier hung above your head and before you was a sprawling staircase that led to two separate wings of the house.

Yeah, no way a family of four can use all this…

“Is it like…cousins and aunts and uncles or is it even more extended?” You asked nervously.

“It’s just my parents’ siblings and their children. And of course the grandparents. But my parents both come from large families so it’ll be close to eighty people. Just stick with me and all will be well. Now, they’re all in the den. Come on.” She reassured you and then you were headed in the direction of the family room. In a house like this, it felt more fitting to call the large room a parlor but you didn’t point that out.

As soon as you entered the room, all eyes were on you and your friend, including those of a tall, gorgeous man. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at him though. He was too pretty and too intimidating for you to stare. Besides, your friend was introducing you to the room and you were too focused on not passing out from the attention as you waved and gave a shy smile.

As the room returned to their conversations, the tall man made his way over to you and your friend. “Hey, mom wants you. She’s in her room.” Wait a minute. This was her brother? This was the ever-annoying Mingi she always spoke of?

“All right.” She pulled an apologetic face as she turned to you. “Just wait right here. I’ll be right back.” Then to her brother. “Mingi, can you keep her company while I’m gone?” He nodded and you felt a ball of nerves form in your stomach. You were going to be alone with her hot older brother?

As she walked away, you offered an awkward smile and looked anywhere but at him. He was far too attractive for you to act normal around. And his deep voice was doing things to you. No way could you uphold a conversation.

That was four years ago. Since then, you’d gotten comfortable at these events, which you’d learned happened several times a year on major holidays. Today was one such event and you were seated on the patio, chatting with one of the many cousins you’d come to learn were close to your age. He was a few years younger and a sweet guy. You could tell he had a crush on you but you weren’t interested. You were hyper aware of Mingi on the far side of the patio, your stomach in knots anytime you caught him looking in your direction.

Over the course of the last four years, you’d grown comfortable with the family but even more nervous around Mingi. He was even more beautiful than the day you’d first laid eyes on him and he seemed to hover nearby whenever you were around. It made you nervous even if you did love the way he seemed to be everywhere you went.

“Well, it looks like I gotta go. But I’ll text you!” The younger man stood with a smile.

You offered a bright one in return and nodded. “For sure. It was good to see you again.” You stood as well when he walked away, stretching. Then Mingi had a grip on your wrist and you startled but allowed him to pull you along. “Mingi? What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.” His tone sent a shiver down your spine and you didn’t bother trying to pull away as he led you towards the pool house. There was no room for argument. Your gut twisted but you followed.

Once inside the cramped, dark room, he turned to you with a frown. “Mingi, seriously. What’s wrong? You’re making me nervous.”

“Good.” He said simply before crashing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

Hello?

You didn’t fight him though. You gladly accepted his advances despite the nerves settling in your belly. When he pulled back, you tried your hardest to remain nonchalant despite the way your chest heaved. “What was that?”

“You’re not allowed to flirt with anyone else, let alone my cousin.” Was his only response before his lips were back on yours in a heated, demanding kiss. Mingi was always the shy type around you so this was entirely out of character for him. You never imagined he’d react this way to you simply chatting with his cousin, as you’d done countless times before.

You allowed him to press you back against the door, your hands moving to his sides as his lips worked yours open. His tongue swept into your mouth and your head spun. This was an entirely new side to the man you thought you knew. He was starved and you were the only thing that could sate him.

His hand came up to your jaw and you bit back a small sound at the touch, still reeling from everything that was transpiring. Finally, you pulled back just enough to take a breath and pressed your forehead to his. “What is happening?”

“I’m making it obvious why you can’t have anything to do with other men.” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

“She’ll kill us.”

“She’s wanted us together even longer, y/n. I told her not to tell you that I liked you.”

“Why now, Mingi?”

“Because I was too much of a coward before.” He nudged your nose again and you tipped your head back enough to meet his lips again. It was a brief peck but it was enough to send electricity shooting down your spine. “I’m tired of being afraid, y/n. I’m telling you now: you belong to me and no other man can so much as look at you the way he did. I won’t stand for it.”

“Prove that I’m yours then.” You pulled back enough to make eye contact and saw a myriad of emotions swimming in his chocolate eyes. “What other men do is none of my concern, Mingi. What matters is what you do.”

“Do you really want me to prove it? Because there’s so much I wanna do right now.”

“What do you want to do? Tell me about it.”

His eyes seemed to darken with lust and he glanced down at your lips before locking eyes with you again. “I wanna taste you. Wanna make you fall apart on my tongue and then stuff you full of my cock and make you scream my name so everyone knows you’re all mine.” He paused. “And that’s only the beginning of it.”

Your pulse ratcheted up at the confession and you found yourself nodding before you could even fully process his words. It had been a long time since anyone had laid a hand on you and the dry spell was getting to you. Your inability to say no was worsened by the fact that it was Mingi propositioning you. “Do it then. Do everything you want to do to me.”

“You don’t know what you’re signing yourself up for.” He warned even as he looked back to your lips, descending on them a moment later. His kiss was ravenous, his lips devouring yours. He tasted like candy and smoke, a combination you couldn’t comprehend but knew you wouldn’t get tired of anytime soon.

All too soon he was pulling away and leaning down to press his lips to your neck instead, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt. You reached blindly behind you to lock the door then tangled your hands in his platinum hair, your head tipping back to further expose your throat to him. He began to lift your shirt and you pressed your chest against him, arching off the door. You needed to be closer to him.

“Down girl.” He teased as he tugged your shirt up and over your head, letting out a soft breath once he saw your bare breasts. “No bra? You wanted me to lose it, didn’t you?” He accused as he leaned down to take one into his mouth while the other rested in his massive hand.

“I may have thought about the possibility a time or two.” You grinned and closed your eyes, taking in the sensation of his tongue on your nipple as your head rested against the door. He rolled the opposite nipple between his thumb and first finger and you made a small noise of appreciation. “You know, I always imagined you to be a boob guy.” You teased, gasping when his teeth caught lightly on your nipple.

“I’m a man of culture, y/n, I like it all. Boobs, ass, and thighs. And I'm about to worship every inch of you.” Then he was swapping sides as his hand dipped between your legs, cupping you through your shorts.

You bit your lip hard as you looked down to watch him work, his fingers tugging your shorts to the side and tracing your slit. Things were moving fast but you couldn’t be bothered to slow it down. You needed him to do everything he’d said and more or you feared you might lose your mind.

“Wait.” He paused and pulled back, concern etched on his face. You offered a small smile and unbuttoned your shorts, shimmying the material down your legs along with your panties. “I need you.”

“Say less.” He groaned as he dropped to his knees before you and hooked your right leg over his shoulder. “You’re so pretty, baby. So perfect. And all mine.”

“All yours.” You agreed with a nod as he leaned in, his breath fanning out over your heated core. You held his gaze as his lips molded to your pussy and you let out a high-pitched whine as his tongue met your folds. “Mingi…”

He groaned against you at your taste and set a teasing pace, his tongue gliding through your folds and flicking over your clit. It was as if he’d known your body for centuries, the way his tongue worked you. He knew exactly what to do to get a rise out of you and he was all too happy to pull out every stop.

Your hand tangled in his hair and you pulled him closer when his tongue delved into you. “Mingi-” You gasped his name and rolled your hips, grinding against his mouth. His hands held you still as he fucked into you with his tongue and you whimpered at not being allowed to move against him.

“Steady, baby.” He murmured, trying to calm you down. It didn’t work, obviously, and he hiked your other leg up over his shoulder instead.

“Fuck- don’t drop me, Mingi, I swear-” You sounded panicked as both your feet dangled at his back.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, angel. Relax. I’ve got you, babygirl.” His voice was soothing as his hands smoothed over the curve of your ass, kneading the soft flesh there a moment later. “Just hold still and let me take care of you, yeah?” You nodded despite wanting to writhe against his face and he kissed your thigh. “Good girl.”

You melted at the endearment and relaxed against the door, allowing him to fully support you as he leaned back in. His tongue was fucking heaven the way it flicked over your clit then pressed back inside you. You didn’t want anyone else to ever attempt to go down on you again after this. He was the only one whose head you’d want between your legs from then on.

His deep voice vibrated against your pussy as he groaned at your taste, his tongue now lapping at your clit. You whimpered and fought the urge to attempt to grind against him, not wanting to knock him off balance and end up on the floor. Instead, you tugged at his hair and tried to pull him closer.

“Please- oh-” Your toes curled as he sucked on your clit and your thighs squeezed tight around his head, earning another suckle and a long groan against your soaking cunt. “Mingi, oh my god- please don’t stop- fuck ‘m so close-” You babbled as the knot in your belly began to fray. Any further teasing and he’d ruin your orgasm. You needed him to see you through it.

“Cum for me, angel. Cum all over my tongue like a good girl.” He coached before leaning back in and sucking harshly on your clit, his tongue flicking wildly over the sensitive bud at the same time.

You couldn’t have held back even if you’d wanted to. Your back arched and your toes curled as you shuddered with your orgasm, white hot bliss filling your veins. You worried for a moment that you’d fall as he lurched backwards but he quickly countered your movements to steady you and continued his motions, guiding you through your orgasm.

Finally, he backed away slowly, letting one shaky leg down and then the other. “Good girl. You did so good for me.” He pressed kisses to your thighs before standing and pecking your lips. “So good. Think you can take my cock now, babygirl?” You nodded instantly, not wanting to even think about what would happen if you said no or even that you needed a break. You simply needed to be filled right then.

He instantly shucked his shorts and boxers, then lifted you from the floor and you gasped as your legs wrapped around his waist. You loved feeling small and taken care of and he was just strong enough, just large enough to make you feel so tiny and fragile. God he was large… His dick, so thick and long, was straining with interest and already leaking precum and your pussy throbbed at the thought of taking it all. You needed him.

The blunt head of his cock prodded at your entrance and you quickly shimmied down onto his length, earning a hiss. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight…” He lightly slapped your ass and you whined softly, clenching around him. “Shit- don’t do that, I won’t last. It's too good.” He warned and you did it again, knowing exactly how to get him to lose control now.

He gave an experimental thrust and you knew this position wouldn’t work. “The table.” You looked over his shoulder, gesturing to the table positioned against the wall behind him. “Fuck me there.” It was by a window so it was risky but you didn’t care. You needed him to fuck you and you needed a stable place to do so.

As he carried you to the table, his motions sending him further into you, you peered out the window. All the children were long gone and it seemed only a handful of folks still milled about in the yard, including your friend and her parents. You let out a soft sound at the cool press of metal on your bare skin as he seated you on the table and gave a shallow thrust, letting out a low groan. “So fucking tight for me, babygirl.”

“You’re just so big.” You whined, tugging him in close with your legs. “Kiss me.” You whispered, grabbing a fistful of his royal blue shirt and pulling him down. He gladly obliged and you let out a weak moan at the taste of yourself on his lips as he snapped his hips forward.

The motion was enough to knock the air out of you and you made a pathetic noise as he set a demanding pace, his hips already slapping against your ass. He drank up your moans, muffling the sounds so as not to get caught - yet.

He fit perfectly. He was massive and the stretch was delicious. He reached places your fingers couldn’t and filled you in ways your toys never had. You’d never felt so perfectly full and cared for in your life.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

You slipped a hand between you and began to massage lazy circles on your clit. A moment later, though, your hand was gently knocked away and Mingi took over. That was a new one. No man had ever truly cared about your pleasure. No man had been so set on being the one to make you fall apart.

Until Mingi.

He pulled out suddenly and urged you to sit up. “Turn around.” He commanded and fuck if you were going to disobey. You loved taking it from behind.

You quickly complied with his orders and a moment later he was back inside, filling you in a whole new way. “Oh god-” You moaned pathetically as he reached around to toy with your clit some more.

“Not god, baby. Just your Mingi.” He crooned in your ear and you clenched around him involuntarily.

“Mine.” You agreed with a nod. “My Mingi. All mine.”

“That’s right, babygirl.” He nipped at your earlobe and your flesh puckered, your nipples tightening. “And I'm gonna make sure you never forget it.”

His words were emphasized by a sharp thrust that knocked you forwards, his thick cock abusing your dripping cunt. “I couldn’t forget this even if I wanted to, Mingi. It’s all I've wanted since the moment we met. Can’t forget it when I’m finally getting you.” You sounded breathless and whiny as you spoke.

A lewd squelching filled the cramped room as he railed you from behind and you felt the coil in your belly growing tighter with each thrust. You couldn’t help but lift your head and glance out the window to ensure you were still going unnoticed and found even less people in the yard, the group now down to one couple along with the rest of Mingi’s immediate family, who were cleaning the yard now.

“What do you see, baby?”

“They’re gone. Just a few left. Fuck-” He drove into you harder and your toes curled as your elbows buckled and dropped you back on the table. “Feels so good, Mingi!” You cried out quietly, careful not to be too loud lest you get caught.

“Yeah? You like when I fuck you like this?” His hips slammed against your ass and you heard the table hit the wall as you nodded.

“Love it so fucking much. Don’t you dare stop- oh-” He slapped your ass with his free hand just as he lightly pinched your clit and you felt your orgasm lurch closer. “Fuck, Mingi, do that again!” You gasped, fingers tightly gripping the edges of the table. Your knuckles whited in response to your death grip on the cool metal surface.

The table was now steadily knocking against the wall and you prayed you were far enough away from everyone that they wouldn’t notice. You weren’t sure if you could handle being caught.

“Oh god, Mingi- fuck ‘m so close! Please-” Before you could ask permission, you felt your orgasm washing over you.

Your walls clenched and fluttered around the thick cock inside you and you allowed yourself to fall forward onto the table, your cheek pressing against the metal as you came undone. It was intense. Your body jerked from the force of it and you continued to twitch even as you came down from it.

“Fuck- babygirl- tell me where you want it, baby.” His grunts damn near pulled another one out of you and you clenched around him intentionally.

“Inside. Want it all inside.” You whimpered, hugging his cock tightly with your sensitive cunt. The pressure was enough to drag him over the edge and he let out the most beautiful sound as he came undone, filling you to the brim with his cum.

He didn’t stop until you were so full you were dripping his release all down your thighs. When he pulled out you made a small, dissatisfied noise and stood straight. You walked on wobbly legs to gather your clothes, biting your lip when he caught you by the waist. “Let me clean you up some, baby.” His voice was roughened with sex and your head spun at the sound.

A towel was pressed against your thighs and he began to wipe up his mess. When had he had a chance to grab one from the shelf? It didn’t matter. What mattered was how his hands felt against your skin. He was so gentle with you and your heart swelled at the care he used.

When he released you, you quickly tugged your panties on and reached for your shorts. “Mingi?” You called softly as you dressed yourself. He hummed in response as you buttoned your shorts. “You know this means things can’t go back to normal, right? This changes everything.”

“That was the plan.” He grinned as he tugged his underwear and shorts back on. Once dressed, he made his way to you and helped you adjust your shirt. “I want things to be different between us, y/n. I want us to be more than acquaintances. More than friends.”

“I-I do too.” You bit your lip and looked up at him. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you from across the room.”

“Then I’m yours.” He smiled softly and pulled you against him. “All yours.” He whispered just before kissing you sweetly. You could still kind of taste yourself on his lips and it made you dizzy.

You were about to say something sweet in return when the door handle rattled. “Guys come on. Mom and dad are getting suspicious.” Your friend’s low voice came through the door. She knew you were in here all along?

#kpop smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez mingi #mingi smut #mingi #ateez song mingi #song mingi #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #song mingi x reader #alura's works

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revelboo · 1 month ago

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Revel could you please do starscream and skyfire sharing?? If you feel like it? They're my 2 favs and also my fav ship so I had to ask...

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Interludes Pt 9

Starscream x Reader, Skyfire x Reader

• Venting as he carries two glasses back to his table and his old friend smiles to make his spark hurt. Acting like the war, their fight, and the distance never happened. And Starscream wants to play along so bad it hurts. Pretend none of it happened. That they’re okay instead of not actually talking about all of it. “See anything tempting?” He asks, sliding a drink to the bigger mech as he sits and turns to watch the humans dancing and drinking, noisy and frenetic, but if his life span was so short, he’d want to live, too. Skyfire’s always adored organics, so this is the perfect peace offering, because he can’t make himself apologize. Doesn’t regret his choices, but he does regret losing his best friend.

• Embarrassed, Skyfire flicks his wings. Because this was Star’s idea and he doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. But sharing a human? His spark is wilting inside as he nervously scans the crowd. Doesn’t know how to explain that he’s not sure he can do this when Star seems so excited and he doesn’t want to argue. Wants things to go back to the way they were. Venting, he nods at a human sitting alone, not drinking. Not partying. You look lonely and that’s something he understands too well. And Starscream pushes up and stalks your way, wings flaring slightly when you look up in surprise. Mortified when Star points at him and you lean to look, and he wonders what the Seeker is saying. Watches you lift a hand to wave and he awkwardly waves back, anxiety spinning him tight as Star leads you over, a hand on your arm.

• Face flushing as you let yourself be led over to the big guy, you hadn’t really expected to get any attention since you’re trying to be good, playing designated driver for your bestie. Who’s been in a back room with a mech for an hour already. You’re allowed to have some fun, though and these two? Fliers if the wings are any indication and they’re interested in you? “Hi,” you say, startling when the one who’d introduced himself as Starscream lifts you by the waist and sets you in his buddy’s, Skyfire’s, lap. And the big guy’s optics widen slightly to make you think he’s shy and you warm, liking him already.

• Smirking when you reach for Skyfire’s hand and place it on your thigh, Starscream pulls his own chair closer and sits. Because Sky looks so flustered and he hears the bigger mech’s fans click on. How long has it been since Skyfire relaxed and had a good frag? Propping his chin on a fist as Skyfire nervously starts asking you about yourself, he tries to remember if he ever saw the other mech bring someone back to the berth. He had to have. “Your buddy said you’re celebrating the war being over,” you say and you reach back to cup Skyfire’s cheek. “That you wanted to get to know earth up close and personal.”

• Can he offline from sheer mortification? He’s almost certain he can as you shift in his lap, sliding up against his modesty plating, and you’re so warm and soft in his lap, his denta clenched, praying he doesn’t accidentally release his spike. “That’s right,” he manages weakly because Star is smiling indulgently. And you move against him, a slide of your hips so your back is pressed to his front and he is going to release his spike and embarrass himself. “Star?” Because the Seeker is stalking to the bar. Claiming a room token while your palm slides over the back of his hand on your hip.

• Fighting a laugh at the look on Sky’s face as you slide out of his lap and turn to tug at his hand, Starscream slides a servo over the room token. The bigger mech moving stiffly as he lets himself get pulled to a room and Star brushes up against your other side. Smiling lazily when you look up at him with a little grin. You’re for Sky, but maybe he’ll take a turn with you. Because he keeps hearing about humans from Skywarp and Thundercracker, his Trine mates regulars apparently. And you turn before he’s even got the door closed, stripping and reaching to cup Skyfire’s modesty plating, his friend making a strangled sound when his spike releases, venting raggedly.

• Smiling at the horrified look on the big guy’s face, these aliens so uncannily human in their expressions, and he obviously hasn’t wanted to do that. His optics widening when you slide your palm against his spine and brush up against him to make him stumble back. He is shy and you grin. Oh, you’re going to ruin this sweet, mech. “You want to lay back for me?” You ask, feeling sexy when he gets even louder, fans humming. “I promise I won’t bite.” And he nearly falls onto the bed, retreating before reluctantly stretching out and staring at you like he thinks you’re definitely going to bite him as you climb up between his thighs.

• You’re not going to- Groaning when you grip his spike and your head lowers, soft hair brushing the plating on his thighs before your tongue slides against the head of his spike and your mouth closes on him and his hips buck. And Star has a hand over his mouth, badly hiding a laugh as your mouth slides on him, tongue sliding against him and far too soon, your head lifts, spike popping free. “I think you’re a little too excited for much of that,” you tease, shifting to straddle him when he just wants to beg for the wet heat of your mouth on him. But then you slide yourself against him and slowly ease yourself down and this is better. He might offline, but you’re so slick and tight, taking him deep.

• Breath catching as you feel the burn of him stretching you, you’d heard the Cybertronians were big, but he’s huge. Rocking yourself, trying to relax when his hips lift and you’re taking all of him with a startled moan. And he’s babbling incoherent alien gibberish as his buddy laughs. Blowing out a breath, you roll your hips slowly. And his big hands wrap around your middle when you start to ride him, those servos caging you, so big they touch on both sides of you. Aware of him inside you in a way you’re not used to, feeling every ridge and bump as his biolights pulse for you and he’s so gentle despite being so huge. Only managing to bounce a handful of times on his spike, enough for your body to heat and coil, before he’s pulling you down, hips lifting and jerking under you as your knees leave the bedding and you have to splay your hands on him for balance as he overloads to fill you.

• Shuddering as his wings flick listening to Sky groan, Starscream’s reaching for you. Pulling you off of Sky’s spike and laying you down before freeing his own spike. Almost certain that was Sky’s first time as he buries himself inside you. Wanting to thank you, hips pumping as he cages you, mouth brushing your ear. “Can you take care of him all night?” He growls between thrusts and those pretty eyes find his optics as you hook your legs around him in answer. ‘Harder,’ you whisper and he’s happy to oblige. Driving you ruthlessly to that peak, hearing your needy, little sounds as you shatter and he chases after you, after his own overload. Catching Skyfire watching you both and he smiles lazily, because he’s got so much to teach his old friend and he’s sure you’re going to be all too happy to help.

This Is apparently a thing on AliExpress. I don’t know why he’s a cat, but I’ve never clicked on something so fast in my life. CatWave has toe beans. TOE BEANS. Also, my ask box is now officially over 1000 deep

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #starscream #skyfire x reader #skyfire #valveplug

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ablobwhowrites · 1 month ago

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Dragon y/n cookie shenanigans

Got the idea of this dragon y/n cookie by @bluewillbon

I imagine just dragon y/n cookie being strong as shit but instead of wanting to destroy like the other dragons. They like to pick somewhere to sun bath in cookie form and dragon form and I love to imagine they are a huge dragon in their dragon form but cookie they are kinda the same size as burning spice or shadow milk.

Random cookie passing through: "so where is this legendary protector of the kingdom?"

Gingerbrave: "oh their right there!"

*y/n cookie in their dragon form laying on a personal lounging building* (they have accidentally crushed a house once but it was abandoned so no cookie got hurt by the cookies there decided to build a place where y/n could relax without accidently destroying houses or building a)

Gingerbrave: "yep! That's our protector!...wait where did you go?"

*random cookie hightailing it out of there*

Also love to image snap dragon being like a sibling to dragon y/n cookie and basically koala clings onto y/n cookie because they like being around y/n but also y/n's wings are big enough to quickly hide under to eat a snack they stole.

The vibe I'm going with for dragon y/n cookie is a gentle giant (I love gentle giant characters dude and kinda going with a iron giant vibe mixed maybe toothless from the first and second movie.) plus I imagine just the other dragons think y/n is to kind to the cookies and see it as a weakness but y/n has lived as long as Longan dragon cookie and explored the world in their youth but has seen how dangerous their strength can be as well as their life span for extending by regular cookie and once had a lover and wished to have a baby with them but was forced to go back to dragon valley to keep their love safe because of having people fear y/n cookie because they are a dragon and they forever morn for their cookie love, wishing maybe if they had been a normal cookie then they could have lived with their love forever.

Pov your dragon y/n cookie saving a cookie civilian (they have no idea what is going on)

Also love to imaging that dragon y/n cookie has met the gem mermaid cookies and maybe beast cookies before they corrupted but I don't know just a silly thought.

(but that's it for this silly idea. But if you like it and want more please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

#yandere cookie run #y/n cookie #cookie run x reader #crk x you #yandere crk #cr kingdom #cr ovenbreak #yandere cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run ovensmash #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #x gn reader #male reader #yandere x gn reader #cookie run ovenbreak #yandere x darling #yandere dragon cookies

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honeybuckin10 · 10 months ago

Text

Hospital Beds - a Hawks x fem!doctor!reader One Shot

Summary: Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks [wc: 4.6k].

Warnings: mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of character death, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, fluff, comfort, potentially unpopular Hawks opinions. characters slightly aged up.

a/n: started writing thinking this was gonna be cute and flirty, ended up taking a kind of serious turn (still otherwise cute and flirty with happy-ish ending). might do a spicier part 2 at some point. as always, don’t be a ghost reader pls and ty <3

Hawks’ eyes were focused on the window, lost in thought. There was a crowd gathered outside Central Hospital. From the muffled voices through the glass, it didn’t sound like they were there for support. He felt the span of his back against the hospital bed, a sensation both foreign and grounding. The space where his wings once were stung slightly at the contact, despite the heavy nerve blockers he assumed were administered earlier.

“Back again so soon?”

You broke him from his trance as you shut the door behind you. Your eyes immediately scanned his monitors, a pleasant smile never leaving your face.

“At some point, we really do have to get your heart rate checked out.”

He didn’t actually have a high heart rate. But the machines he was hooked up to always went crazy whenever he got sight of you. He was too embarrassed to say anything, though he wondered if you noticed why his charts never reflected any underlying conditions when his vitals were checked by others.

“You’re not a very good patient, you know. Though now that you can’t talk, perhaps you’ll actually listen.”

He tried to respond, but quickly remembered he couldn’t open his jaw, not very much at least. No sound came out of the small gap between his lips.

You had treated Hawks on several occasions now, usually after incidents involving fire. Most were minor. He’d come in and joke that he’d done it on purpose to see you. You’d roll your eyes, every now and then you’d even dignify him with an actual response: ‘nice try’. But his injuries now were unlike anything you’d ever seen. You knew it was bad when he didn’t try flirting with you. Then again, it’s not like he could even if he wanted to.

Your tone was light and breezy, but the furrow in your brow betrayed your façade.

“I’m only joking, of course. But in all seriousness, your trachea was severely damaged from the smoke inhalation during the attack. Fortunately you narrowly avoided respiratory failure, but you won’t be able to use your voice for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, technology has advanced enough that you won’t have to carry around a notepad everywhere you go. We recommend using the voice app on your phone.”

You handed him his cell phone, when Hawks noticed a plastic bag of personal items behind you with unknown origins. You followed his eyes to see what was distracting him.

“Oh yes, a young man named Tokoyami brought you a change of clothes and some other things you may need while you were out. Said he was your mentee.” You paused, searching for some kind of reaction. You thought it might brighten his spirits. His eyes widened somewhat, but there was still no smile. “It’s clear you’ve had a big impact on him.”

Tokoyami. His mentee. A child. More memories of the battlefield came flooding back. Twice. Dabi. He knew you hoped that bringing up his pupil would put him at ease. But Hawks was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that he had put the student is such a dangerous situation.

“I also spoke with Dermatology. They informed me that sixteen percent of your body is covered with third degree burns, another twenty percent second degree, and twenty-two percent first degree. Given the severity and location of the burns, you’re also at risk of developing contractures that could compress your airways in the future so we’ll need to keep a close eye on that. Once your wraps come off, they’ve prescribed you a topical treatment that you’re to use three times a day until everything is healed. You’ll also be started on an oral antibiotic immediately, which you’re to take for three weeks.”

He attempted to use his new voice.

“What about wings?” You took a deep breath. Not good.

“I’m getting to that. I’m going to adjust your bed a little first. Are you able to lean forward?” He nodded as the bed rose up and the angle of his back moved more upright. He winced, unable to hide his discomfort but did as you instructed.

“I’m sorry, I know this is painful for you. I’m going as quickly as I can.” You talked through how you were examining his dressings, that his biggest risk at the moment was that the wounds would get infected, and that the dressings would need to be changed again before the end of the day.

“I think they will grow back. But it will be painful and it will be slow. You must be patient during this time and you’ll have to stay out of the field for a while. I’d recommend taking a well-deserved break until they’re fully healed.”

Bedrest sounded like Hawks’ personal hell. He only nodded his head. He didn’t have the energy to protest.

“You’ll also need to go through a psychiatric evaluation before rejoining field.”

Hawks let out a muffled groan. You let out an exasperated laugh.

“Really, you didn’t make a peep when I was examining your open wounds but you draw the line at psych eval?” You watched as he typed out his next thought.

“Waste of time.” Your eyes softened.

“First of all, this is standard procedure. Endeavor, Mirko, Eraserhead, all those UA students are going to have to get one too. Second, even if it wasn’t, what you – what you’ve all gone through would cause even the strongest soldier some kind of stress. We want to make sure that you’re all in the right headspace so that you’re the most prepared you can be going against whatever this enemy is. You have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of others.”

Hawks sat there a moment in silence, absorbing your words. Wondering whether you would be so sympathetic and kind if you knew the truth. He began typing.

“I killed someone,” the unnatural voice said. It came from him, but it didn’t feel like him. It echoed against the walls of the sterile room, void of emotion.

You pulled a chair next to his bed so that you were slightly below his eye level.

“I heard. That must be a lot to carry.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not.” You paused, choosing your next words carefully for the fragile hero. “I don’t know what your world is like. I wasn’t there so I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know that we are both in the business of saving lives, albeit in different ways. My guess is you made a split second decision on what was in the mission’s best interest to save the lives of your colleagues and ultimately the lives of civilians. Nobody has a crystal ball to know whether that was the best or right choice. But it was a life or death situation, and you did the best you could in the moment. It’s natural to feel remorse and guilt, but you can’t let it debilitate you for the rest of your life either.”

What right did you have to comment on such things?

“You’ve never killed someone,” he countered.

“I have. In my OR. There are some people that can’t be saved, no matter how hard you try.”

“I think he was a good person,” he typed, wondering if that negated everything you just said.

“Good people do bad things all the time. It doesn’t make them bad people.” He sighed, swallowing the searing pain as harsh air passed through his lungs. You watched closely as the hero studied his bandaged hands, refusing to make eye contact. “For now, the best thing you can do for yourself and Japan is rest. We need you.”

He sat with your words. It didn’t dawn on him until long after you left the room that you weren’t just talking about Twice.

As you warned, the days passed at a glacial pace. He didn’t enjoy how quickly he acclimated to talking through his phone. He had growing pains from the nubs of his wings that began to poke through his skin. Each day brought a revolving door of doctors and healers and other specialists, by whom he was constantly poked and prodded and observed. Hawks hated every minute of it. Almost every minute.

You came in daily to monitor the progress of his wings. It was the most painful part of his recovery. But you entered his room with a smile and sunny disposition, like you weren’t about to inflict torture on him for thirty minutes. The air hurt his exposed back when you removed the old bandages. It stung when you applied antiseptic to cleanse the area. It felt like he was going to pass out when you ran your gloved fingers along the growth that was coming in. He felt all the more pathetic laying on his stomach as you did your work.

But you did your best to distract him with bad jokes and hospital gossip. Not that you had to put in that much effort. Your presence was distracting enough.

On the fourth day after the battle, you finally got a chuckle out him. What’s black and white and black and white and black and white? He shrugged as you applied ointment. A penguin falling down the stairs. You quickly realized that your methods may have been faulty as his laugh devolved into a coughing fit, his lungs still weak.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Try to remember your box breathing.”

He held his breath at the top of his inhale. Four, three, two, one. Exhale. Four, three, two, one. He repeated this for a minute before his breath finally returned to normal. He gave a thumbs up. I’m ok.

Relief washed over your face. “I’m sorry I made you choke on air. But glad to see you in better spirits today.” He began typing.

“I’m always in good spirits when you’re around.” You bit back a smile no one could see as you started redressing the incoming wings.

“Ah, there he is. Yeah, you’re definitely starting to feel better.”

“Can’t you tell? I’m the pinnacle of health.” The gallows humor was hard to miss despite the monotone robotic voice, the statement in stark contrast to his fully bandaged and hospitalized body.

“You will be, soon enough.” You finished applying new bandages. “That’s it for me today, unless there’s anything else you want to share.”

“Capricorn. 27. Single –“

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” You pulled off your disposable gloves, turning to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “I already knew that from your chart. Nice try,” you teased.

“Didn’t know you were stalking me.”

“Goodbye Hawks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew your faux sternness was hardly believable, as you caught him wink before you closed the door.

Two days later you bumped into Hawks and Best Jeanist in the hallway. You broke into a wide grin when you noticed the two heroes, pleasantly surprised to see just how much progress your patient had made in such a short time.

“Good morning gentlemen.”

“Good morning Dr. y/l/n,” Best Jeanist said with a small bow. Hawks was visibly confused about his formality.

“Please, there’s no need for that. It’s just good to see you back in the land of the living.” Best Jeanist helped fill in the gaps for his perplexed cohort.

“Hawks, Dr. y/l/n was part of the team who developed the drugs to put me in a temporary death-like state to convince Dabi that you’d killed me. We can thank her for setting us up for success to get you undercover.” Hawks knew he missed out on a lot during his covert mission, but had no idea how many parties were involved outside the ordinary network of hero agencies and the Commission. You blushed at the praise.

“It was nothing, really. You guys are the ones doing all the hard work.”

“Truly, we are in your debt,” Best Jeanist piled on. You weren’t used to so much flattery and you had a job to do so you tried to end the conversation.

“Anyways, I have to get to my next patient. Jeanist, keep an eye on your partner. It’s good for him to walk around a little bit but make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” He gave another bow.

“I’m right here,” Hawks typed, unamused by the turn of the exchange.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Hawks,” you yelled over your shoulder before disappearing down the next corridor.

The session later that day was nothing out of the ordinary. The nubs sprouting from his back had formed into tiny but well-defined wings and he was able to sit up during exams as opposed to lying face down on the hospital bed. All signs of positive progress.

He watched wistfully as you documented your observations, swaying his legs off the side of the bed like a child.

“They’re coming in quite nicely, I’m really happy with where you’re at.”

“Great what do I need to sign to get out of here?”

“Ahhh not so fast. You have to stay at least another two days and even once you’re discharged, you most certainly are not ready to return to active duty.” He pouted underneath his respirator mask.

“You’re no fun.”

“Sorry, just doing my job.” You proceeded to check his other vitals before heading out. First you took off his mask to check his lymph nodes, pressing your fingers firmly against the outer side of his jaw, moving down his neck. He was acutely aware of the lone thin layer of latex that separated you. He couldn’t stop the warmth that crept up his face, thankful that most of it was still covered. His flushed cheeks may have been under wraps, but he couldn’t hide his quickened pulse from you. You put on your stethoscope and instructed him to breathe deeply a few times, the cold metal circle moving from his upper back, to lower back, to his chest.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Your lungs are sounding better but your heart’s beating like crazy.”

He feigned surprise, which was much easier when he didn’t have to control his own voice. “Really? That’s odd, no one else’s said anything.”

You pulled up his chart again to check the inputs of all the other practitioners who’ve treated the hero since his arrival at Central Hospital. All values normal.

“On a scale from one to ten, how much pain are you in at this point?”

“Two or three.”

“Are you feeling nervous about anything?” He chewed his lower lip trying to think of a way to get out of this, knowing that if he said no you would run more tests which would be unnecessary and prolong his stay.

“Yes,” he lied. Kind of. He actually was a little nervous, though definitely not for the reason you likely thought. You brought your chair next to his bed again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” A loaded question.

“No.” The good thing about talking through his phone and the mask was that he could get away with saying less. Sympathetic people tended to not ask follow up questions.

“Okay. Well, you know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.” You spoke slowly, your reassuring voice laced with uncertainty. It was difficult to get a read on him when you couldn’t hear the tone of his voice or see his face. “Do you have any questions?” He nodded.

“Will you go on a date with me?” You almost choked on your own saliva. You blushed, but forced yourself to remain stoic.

“I’m very flattered, but there are strict protocols against physician-patient relationships.” Your stern message was undercut by your stammering, high pitched squeak.

“What if I promise to never get hurt again?” You tried not to smile, knowing it would only egg him on. You were failing.

“You shouldn’t be making promises you can’t keep.”

“What if I find a different doc?”

“You’ve gotten awfully good at talking through your phone,” you muttered under your breath.

“Can’t hear you.” Despite his mostly covered face, you could tell from the crinkle around his eyes that he was enjoying every moment of this interrogation.

“I-I’d have to take it up with the Board of Ethics.”

“That’s not a no.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Can I say one more thing?” You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he was about to spew.

“I’d rather you didn’t but legally I think I have to say yes.” You watched as his thumbs frantically moved over the keyboard.

“Thank you for taking care of Best Jeanist. This operation wouldn’t’ve gotten so far without him or you.”

“Oh.” Your felt your heartbeat in your throat. “Again, just doing my job. Glad I could help.” You fiddled with some papers. “Let’s try this one more time. Do you have any other questions… about your health.”

Hawks shook his head, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Despite the fact that you wanted to scold him for the bizarre interaction, you were reassured by his pleasant disposition, one you hadn’t seen since he arrived.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow rolled around but you entered an empty sterile room, bed ready for a new patient. After a few seconds your confusion passed and you saw red.

You stormed down the hall in search for any hospital staff, until a poor resident had the unfortunate luck of being in your path.

“Where the hell is my patient?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Room 3409. Yesterday my patient was there and today the room is empty. He wasn’t ready to be discharged so where is he?”

“I-I-I don’t know ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. y/l/n, this is a hospital, not wrestlemania if you could keep it down please. And stop traumatizing the junior residents.” Hawks’ pulmonologist emerged from his office and tried to placate you. You glowered at the first young doctor as he silently excused himself from the conversation that was definitely beyond his paygrade.

“Please tell me he got moved to a different wing.”

“I’m afraid not.” He spoke again before you could let out another outburst. “I warned him of the risks of a premature discharge, to which he insisted he was feeling fine and that those were risks he was willing to take. I had him fill out some paper work and a consent form and he left this morning.” Your nostrils flared as you silently seethed.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to report you. Oh, and one more thing…” The doctor took a deep breath before proceeding, worried he may end up the subject of your wrath. “This is probably terrible timing, but – he requested to take you off his care team,” your eyes widened “…and should he be re-hospitalized that you not be involved.”

“WHAT?” You continued mumbling a string of profanities under your breath. The doctor continued slowly and calmly.

“He made it very clear it had nothing to do with the quality of care he received from you. But he uh, mentioned something about a potential conflict of interest.” He took a step back as you burned an imaginary hole through his head with your retinas. “I cannot emphasize enough how much I do not want to know any more information about this.”

“There is no more information about it because it doesn’t exist!” You wanted to scream. “Fuck him. Fuck you. Fuck this hospital. I’msosorryItakethoselasttwoback.” You stomped your foot down like a petulant child before storming off. “FUCK!”

By the next day you had cooled off, that is, until you saw Hawks loitering outside Endeavor’s room as you were making your rounds.

“YOU!” you boomed. Hawks’ excitement to see you was quickly replaced with fear as you approached and you were close enough that he could see the rage steaming off you.

“Hey doc,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t you ‘hey doc’ me.” You were very close to his face. He was sure he would’ve felt your breath if he didn’t have the stupid respirator mask on. For a split second he thought about taking it off but realized that would only further enrage you. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He began typing but you swatted his hand before he could answer. “Ow.”

“And you –“ Best Jeanist would be the next recipient of your verbal lashings. “You said you would keep an eye on him. Liar.”

Hawks had never seen his colleague scared before, but there was a first for everything.

“He just wanted to come for a ride-along, I promise he stayed in the car the whole time!”

“I have never been more disappointed,” you said in a low voice. Best Jeanists bowed.

“I am very ashamed and deeply regret my actions. I am sorry.” That seemed to pacify you momentarily. You returned your wrath to Hawks.

“I told you you’re not ready to return to the field. And now I hear you’re refusing to receive treatment from me? I cannot explain to you how embarrassed and insulted I am.” You allowed him time to type this time as Best Jeanist stood there as witness, desperately wishing for the floor to open below and swallow him whole.

“You’re right. I’m not ready. But this enemy is moving too quickly, time is of the essence. I’m in good enough shape that I can help off the field. I’m sorry I went against your professional judgement.” You continued to glare at him with pursed lips.

“And?”

“And I was being proactive. I’m taking you on that date.” Your face flushed immediately while the avian hero somehow remained shameless. You did your best to maintain your composure.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” You crossed your arms defensively.

“After a stunt like this, I wouldn’t be so sure. Plus, since you’ve already taken it upon yourself to be discharged I’m not sure why you’re even here.”

“Now that we know about the Todoroki family connection to Dabi, we need to gather intel. Also need to consolidate info from those at the Jaku Hospital attack. Off-field work, if you will.” Your eyes narrowed, only to be met with undeterred playful golden irises.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But I feel the need to make it known that I’m not happy about it.” The injured hero smiled again.

“Thanks, doc.”

“Again, our sincerest apologies for the mishap.” Best Jeanist did his best to make up for his companion’s clear lack of repentance.

You only gave the heroes a parting glare as you walked away.

The rest of the day passed, otherwise uneventful but long and exhausting. You kept a professional and pleasant face for the benefit of your patients, but it was getting hard to maintain after all you’d seen in the last seven days since the attacks. Yes, there were cases of miraculous recoveries in the face of overwhelming trauma. But far more frequent were lives that were forever altered by all that had transpired, not just for patients themselves but all the other souls connected to those individuals. The hospital was at capacity, and each bed represented not just one person but a web of lives that now had to face a new crippling reality. If you thought about it too much you could cry – which you did, in the nearest break room or supply closet if had even just two minutes between appointments. Thus, your favorite part of the day became doing paperwork in your office at the end of your shift. It was methodical and soothing, and allowed you to disassociate.

It was at that moment when you were enjoying your oasis that an intern rushed into your office, disturbing your peace.

“There’s an emergency on the top floor, you need to come quick.” You immediately got up and followed her down the hall and up the elevator, asking clarifying questions about the situation.

But when you entered the room in question, all you saw was a picnic blanket on the hospital bed, two champagne flutes, a bottle, and the number two hero. The intern shrank in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, he said he would send me a bunch of merch if I could get you here.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” You rubbed your temples, hoping it would transport you to another dimension where you never went to medical school and thus would not be here. “You are not to accept a single thing from him, do you understand?” The intern nodded aggressively. “Now go, I’m sure you have better places to be, ideally with a patient who actually needs help.” The intern scurried away without another word.

“And you,” now turning to Hawks. “Bribing medical professionals? Super illegal.”

“Sorry.” His mischievous eyes said otherwise, clearly undeterred by your scolding. You scoffed.

“No you’re not.” He shrugged. You took a closer look at the set up. “Seems kinda wasteful, doesn’t it? You can’t even drink.”

He turned the bottle to show the label. Sparkling nonalcoholic cider. The corners of your lips tugged upwards, threatening to betray your steely exterior.

Any semblance of a smile quickly vanished, however, when he removed his respirator mask.

“What are you –“ He spoke before you could protest or before he lost his nerves.

“I’m going to be gone for a really long time after today. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if I’ll be back.” He cautiously grabbed your hands. “Regardless of which it is, I really want to make sure I don’t break any promises.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when he paused. You suddenly found it hard to keep eye contact.

“This is a hospital, not the Make A Wish Foundation.” Despite your icy response, you made no effort to pull your hands away from him. He gently rolled his thumb over your knuckles, trying to memorize every ridge and crease.

Most of his face was still covered in bandages, but you liked that you could now see how his lips curved into a lopsided smirk, punctuated by laugh lines that formed around the corners of his mouth. You liked knowing that you were responsible for it. Your mind concocted imaginary circumstances of other things you could do to get him to make the same perfect expression. Your eyes lifted to meet his when you were done daydreaming.

“I thought they were one in the same.” He was insufferable. His arms fell to his sides when you separated yourself from him. For a moment he almost looked like the defeated shell of himself that was in your care a week ago. But it was quickly washed with relief when he saw you grab the bottle.

“You are the worst patient I’ve ever had.” A satisfying *pop* echoed in the room. He knew your words were hallow, as your acquiescence was rewarded with the hero’s bright eyes and heartfelt smile that made your heart beat in time with the little bubbles that evaporated around you. You handed him a glass of cider, his fingers ghosting over yours as he took the flute from you that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient anymore.”

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thatnightlamp · 2 months ago

Text

BIG THANK TO @thevoidscreams for giving me permission to write a continuation of this fic aaaaaaaa I really love the concept and all <333333

Time passed differently now. The soul once woven from starstuff, once vast and adrift in the tides of the immaterium, now existed in a fragile shell of skin and sinew. Where once you drifted freely among dreams and warp-winds, now you sat, walked, breathed, trapped within the steady tick of Terran time.

The Emperor no longer visited every day. His time was taken with his sons now. His projects. His plans.

His Primarchs.

You felt them before you ever saw them. Bright motes in the distance of your perception, echoes of what once was born from the fragments of your joined soul. Twenty lights flickering across the surface of a darkened world. Their resonance sang to you, even through the walls of your chamber.

They were beautiful, each in their own way. Born of both of you, but shaped in his image. Your own touch, subtle and soft, still lingered within them, like moonlight caught in a pool of gold.

At times, you’d press your hand to the cold stone of the chamber walls and whisper to them, hoping some echo might reach them in dreams. My sons. My stars. I remember each of you before you were shaped into warriors.

But they never answered. Not directly.

They weren’t allowed to.

The chamber the Emperor gave you was deep beneath the palace. Few were permitted to enter. Golden-armored Custodians stood watch in silence. You had come to know some by the quiet rhythm of their thoughts, though they never spoke to you. The Emperor had forbidden it.

You begged to see them. The boys. The ones who had grown so tall and bright and strong.

“They deserve to know,” you whispered one evening, sitting cross-legged on the floor, your back against the polished obsidian of the wall.

The Emperor looked down at you as if weighing whether the request itself was a crime. “They do not need to know. It would distract them. We cannot afford that.”

“But I remember them. I know their lights. I gave of myself to create them.”

He touched your cheek then, with the hand that had both created and destroyed countless lives. “And that is why they must never know. You love them too much. That weakness could destroy everything I’ve built.”

Weakness. That’s what he called it.

But it didn’t stop you from loving them.

Some nights, you’d sense them walking the halls beyond the sealed doors. They never came to you, not fully. But occasionally, just for a flicker, the door would open, a mechanical misfire, or a moment of forgetfulness on the part of a Custodian, and in that fraction of a second, you’d see one of them.

A giant in armor. A golden god of war. Your child.

Each time it was a different one.

The first was Lorgar. His eyes caught yours as the door hissed open and closed in the span of a breath. Soft brown eyes with a questioning sadness, as if he already knew who you were. He hesitated for just a moment, then moved on, the door swallowing the space between you.

Another time it was Sanguinius. You felt your breath catch at the sight of him, wings folded, his face the spitting image of sorrowful grace. He looked back over his shoulder as if he could feel your gaze. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t frown either. That was somehow worse.

Once, when you were crying softly in the corner, you felt someone stop outside the door. Not move, not pace, just stop. You felt the pressure of their soul, enormous, ancient in its own way, trying to understand. You knew that presence. Magnus. You felt his curiosity clawing at the edges of your mind, gentle and yearning. But then he was gone. Like all the others.

They did not speak of you. Not aloud. But you knew they carried the echo of you within.

You began to dream again. Not the same as the dreaming you’d known before, when you were part of the warp itself, but dreams as humans knew them. Half-formed, blurred by emotion. Often you dreamed of your children gathered together, all of them sitting in a circle around you. Laughing. Listening. You were telling them stories. You always woke up crying.

Once, the Emperor came after you woke from such a dream. Your pillow was soaked.

“You’re hurting,” he said, as if observing a stranger’s affliction.

“Yes,” you said, voice quiet. “They were mine too.”

“I know,” he replied. “And that is why I must ask something difficult of you.”

You looked up at him, your expression hollow. “What more can I give?”

“I need you to stay hidden. Forever.”

That word shattered something in you. Forever.

“I can’t even speak to them? Not even one of them?”

“No.” He looked away, guilt not present, only determination. “It would endanger them. And you.”

“Then why did you let me live at all?”

He was silent for a long moment. Then: “Because I couldn’t bear to lose you again.”

It became a kind of haunting, your presence in the palace, known but never acknowledged. A myth among the Primarchs. A shadow that passed behind the Emperor’s throne in rare flickers. A soft sigh caught in the whir of the air filters. Some of them would see you from afar in their youth, and wonder.

Who is the woman the Emperor hides in the depths of the palace?

They dared not ask. The Emperor was a force beyond reproach, even for them.

And so they kept the secret between them.

Guilliman once caught a glimpse of you kneeling in a garden no one else seemed to use. He saw you touch the petals of a rose as though the flower was a miracle. He turned to ask, but the moment shattered, guards ushered him away. Later, he wrote of the encounter in his private log, calling you Mother

Jaghatai Khan, wandering through forbidden corridors by sheer will and disobedience, once found himself at the door to your room. He stood there for almost five minutes, unmoving. His hand reached out to the panel once. But he didn’t press it. Something stopped him. Not fear, but reverence.

Even Angron, in his moments of lucidity, felt a ghostly pang when walking past certain walls. He would grow quiet then, as if trying to remember a lullaby from a dream long since faded.

Each knew in their own way. But none dared voice it.

Except Horus.

The favored son.

He was the only one to look the Emperor in the eye and ask, “Who is she?”

The Emperor’s voice had been cold. “No one you need concern yourself with.”

But Horus had seen you. Just a flicker. A glimpse in the throne room, when your form was reflected in a golden mirror for the span of a breath. He never brought it up again. But from that day on, his light felt different when it passed near yours. Protective. Watchful.

You tried to reach out to him once, in a dream. You whispered his name: Horus.

He paused in the dream, as if he had heard it, but you dared not push further. You had been forbidden.

Your only solace was in the records. You learned how they lived. How they led. How they warred.

My sons, you thought, reading through the pages of their triumphs. Forged for conquest, but born of stars and silence.

You loved them. You always had.

The Emperor came less and less. He had his throne now. His great device. His final plans. Your usefulness to him was, for now, concluded.

But he had kept his promise. You would never be lost again. You were kept.

A star in a jar.

A mother in silence.

And sometimes, late at night, you felt one of them near. Their light would pass close to your chamber. Sometimes fast, like Rogal Dorn, walking with purpose. Sometimes slow, like Vulkan, pausing at your door, hand pressed gently against the cool metal, never pushing through.

None of them spoke.

But you knew.

And they did, too.

One day, maybe, one of them would be brave enough to say it out loud.

Mother.

But not yet.

Not yet.

#warhammer 40k x reader #emperor of mankind x reader #emperor of mankind

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centrally-unplanned · 2 days ago

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I thought this was a well-framed piece on changing tastes in US literature - there absolutely has been a marked shift in what kinds of books are widely read over the past ~50 years. It also slots into some of my own themes around "what happened to all the capital-g Great People" discourse - will there be a new crop of "American Authors" a la Hemingway, Updike, etc, or is that passé, and if so why? Yingling (correctly imo) pushes back on the "death of literary fiction" as being something created wholesale by the internet and trends like declining attention spans - the death happened well before the internet took over everything (it was firmly established by the 2000's), and people do in fact read long books, just as much as they used to (most people never read hefty literature in any era).

Yingling instead posits that this shift is also not due to a change in reader taste, but instead more in "supply" - the death of easy revenue streams for literary authors, changes in how publishers operate, the chasing of awards and genre niches over general readers. To simplify, he believes that one could be an Updike of Our Era, if only one of sufficient talent truly tried and the gatekeepers pivoted to encouraging that. There is truth to the supply issues, but here I think he is overreaching - the supply is instead reflecting the changing demand.

This error is most exemplified in one of his arguments around why it hasn't changed, namely that people still read old literary fiction:

For one, people still read plenty of literary fiction, what they don’t read is contemporary literary fiction. Books like Pride and Prejudice, War and Peace, The Brothers Karamazov, etc still sell many thousands of copies every year, more than even big hits in contemporary literary fiction.5 And look at any survey of contemporary audiences' favorite books. Plenty of literary fiction there.6 So I think there’s a strong enough warrant here that the ‘taste-change’ hypothesis can’t be right either — unless the internet made people’s tastes magically shift away from contemporary literary fiction but not classics.

I don't specifically blame the internet, but I think this is revealing about the author's blindspots - people's tastes absolutely "magically shift" to classics over contemporary works! There is this thing, it is called status? Humans love it, they do so much because of it, and sometimes they even read books due to it! People are reading classic literature precisely because it is classic, it is "the canon". They are also Schelling Points to make reading social - you can easily form a book club around Wuthering Heights because everyone is "supposed" to read it; no one has to read whatever is #46 on the bestseller list today. That in fact drives a lot of media consumption more generally - people read the "hot new thing" and the classics so they can be a part of the wider conversation of society.

From this lens, from where the conversation is, I think you can see more shifts in the demand side that our author misses. He compares the best selling fiction of the 1960's, which was mainly literary fiction, to a sample from 2023:

It Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros Atomic Habits by James Clear2 Dog Man: Twenty Thousand Fleas Under the Sea by Dav Pilkey

Which highlights that three of the five are romance novels (the others are a kid's book, which I don't think says anything, they don't "compete" with literary fiction; and a... nonfiction self-help book? So a typo by the list makers? Let's just ignore that). Now, for one, I would note that this being heavily female is saying a lot about how demand has changed, but that is a bit too obvious to belabor. Instead, I wanna interrogate that word "romance" - I don't think it means what the author wants it to. Let's look at It Ends With Us:

The story follows florist Lily Bloom, whose abusive relationship with neurosurgeon Ryle Kincaid is compounded when her high school boyfriend Atlas Corrigan re-enters her life. It explores themes of domestic violence and emotional abuse. Based on the relationship between her mother and father, Hoover described it as "the hardest book I've ever written".

I'm not saying this is Blood Meridian or anything, but this isn't Harlequin either - it is blending romance tropes with the introspective, the memoir, and some topical politics. At the same time that "literary fiction" has declined, other genres have "grown up" - they cover a lot more diverse ground, targeting demos more specifically and expanding their narrative and thematic scope.

There have been several literary cultural movements specifically playing with this kind of broadening - the decline of lit fic coincidenced with the "memoir boom" of the 90's & 2000's, where "ordinary people" wrote creative-fiction-esque retrospectives on their lives, which you can see covers a lot of similar ground. Hell, to tie it back into gender a bit, if I wanted a serious story about politics & war back in the day, pulp fantasy wasn't gonna do that for you - but it will today! The 2000's was an entire decade of fantasy novels "growing up" (ymmv on how well ofc), and you can get your discourses on the nature of fascism Star Wars™ flavored if that is your tea.

Yingling essentially rests his hat on the idea of the "general reader" being out there still, like literary fiction has deserted them. But I think at least in part, this is a story of evolution, not devolution; in the 1970's we didn't make enough non-general literature to make specialists of the masses. But we do now, they have learned what they like, and aren't particularly interested in coming back to generalist fare. With caveats ofc, there were always be the Hot New Thing and universal appeal, etc - but being sufficiently talented is not going to make that the standard again.

#Literary Culture Discourse Blog

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cheralith · 4 months ago

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— dead man runnin'.

feat ; serial killer!bachira meguru x detective!reader | word count ; 1.8k contains ; gn!reader, no pronouns used, dark content, murdering mention, blood mention, mild gore, yandere themes (stalking, killing, obsession) a/n ; it's always the thoughts that strike you right before doing a really big task that tempts you huh

there's been a series of murders going around the area spanning over the past few months. seven, to be exact. you're the detective of the precinct that's been in charge of attempting to maintain the peace and catch the person that's been behind the knife. all you have to lead off currently is the fact that it's at least the same person doing the crime, given how each of their victims all have the signature two triangles that face each other to make an hourglass shape slashed on their back, almost mimicking wings.

you've been working your ass off lately, running on four hours of sleep and what probably a full pot of coffee in your stomach. you're exhausted and at your wits end, but thankfully an officer comes by and tells you that the medical examiner has the most recent victim's records ready for you to take a closer look at. at least one good thing has prospered out of the dull few days that you've scrapped up with absolutely nothing.

sighing, you nod and trudge yourself along to your car, heading to the morgue to take a look at the body of the recently-deceased neighborhood grouch. mr. kuniaki, you've had the displeasure of running into him a few times, with your last sour encounter being just a few days before his murder, him scolding you about you parking too close to his driveway for fifteen minutes. you won't miss him by any means, none of the neighborhood will really, but for him to die unexpectedly raised some red flags. it at least told you the killer was near given how close in approximation the recent victims were to you.

you're greeted with the usual receptionist, who tells you that the examiner will be down the hall. you open the door, expecting the usual middle-aged, balding doctor that most of the precinct is accustomed with, but instead, you come face to face with a younger, more handsome doctor—one you've never seen before in all your time as a detective.

he has a little bit of a feminine face, but there's still that masculine edge to it. somehow, the bob cut that sports a yellow peek-a-boo do bringing a strike of distinction to him. it'd be hard not to remember his face. a soft grin appears on his face when he sees you in the doorway.

"i've been expecting you, detective (l/n)," he says cheerfully despite the dreary environment around him. while his face doesn't ring a bell, his voice sounds strangely familiar, like you've heard it in passing before.

"ah," you begin slowly, your deteriorated energy beginning to catch up to you. "hello there, doctor...?"

there's no nametag attached to his lab coat, you notice with narrowed eyes.

"bachira," he finishes for you and sticks his hand out. "doctor meguru bachira."

you shake it loosely, despite his grip being much more secure than yours. his hold surprises you a bit since it's rather oddly firm, but you don't think much of it, even though the doctor does linger onto your hand a bit longer than normal (and that one of his eyes twitch unbeknownst to you).

"you must be here for mr. kuniaki," he begins, circling around the medical table that displays a covered body. "i think it's quite obvious by the many bruises and slashes on his body that foul play is evident."

you hum, nodding. "i'm sure you've heard word about the serial killer that's been going around the city with a... rather distinctive m.o."

the doctor drawls a yes, drawing his attention to his clipboard with the many documents that indicate where the trauma was and the results of them from his body. "ah," he lets you read the clipboard that has the anatomy of the body in front of you with the displays of where each infliction was. there, on the old man's back, were the two triangles drawn on the upper part of his back, taunting you. "i'm assuming that this is it?" he asks, pointing to the wing-like slashes.

"yes. it's always the same six lines," you mutter.

the doctor slowly peels back the covering of the body, revealing the six lines in real time on the old man's back. you stare at them with blank eyes—the usual sight. dried ruby red blood cut on skin rather deep with a couple of scratches and bruises decorating the main scene.

"i concluded that the perpetrator used some sort of common kitchen knife, something accessible to most men, given how blunt these cuts are," the doctor says, a gloved hand going over to graze the cuts so softly, as though not to trigger a reaction out of a dead man.

"i've heard the same report from other examiners," you mention as you recall the others telling you different ranges of knives that were common items to the average person. "did you happen to—"

the door bursts open suddenly. your partner that was supposed to stay behind in your car runs in with a worried look on his face. "(l/n), we've gotta go."

you and the doctor face him with twinned surprised looks. "what? why? we've barely been here for ten minutes."

your partner points his finger towards the entrance of the morgue. "there's a nearby hostage situation on the corner of fifth and clark," he exasperates, "they need all hands on deck 'cause the perps have a bomb that'll go off in thirty minutes if we don't do something."

you look back to the doctor hastily, who merely raises his brows. "i—" you try to find the right words. you finally have a moment of peace to yourself after the mounds of paperwork that you were busy with all last week to work on your case before it got worse, but of course, nothing ever goes to plan. you turn back to your partner. "can't they put moriyama and ohta on the scene? they're only working on some parking violations, aren't they?"

your partner shakes his head, lifting it up to say that they need as many people as they can considering there were two children at the scene, but when he comes to look at you, he sees the rather... daunting stare of the doctor that stands behind you. his yellow eyes are wide with caution, the kindness in his golden hues gone and replaced by something much more menacing.

your partner suddenly loses the words, the doctor's stare planting him in his place out of his own control. his smile is still on his lips, but there's no trace of friendliness, as if it was just fixed there for display. malice swirls in the doctor's eyes as he glares daggers into the man that stands in front of you, as if to warn him to not make a wrong move.

you see the paleness of your partner's face, a little confused as to what has drained all the color from his cheeks when he stares past you. it's like as if he's seen something horrifying. you turn your head, but all you're faced with is the gentle smile of the doctor that cocks his head to the side ever so ignorantly.

his honey-colored eyes soften gently at you. "is everything okay?"

"um," you turn back to your partner, who now has his brows furrowed at the doctor's cordial countenance. "i'm sorry for this, but i think we have to continue this tomorrow. looks like my team needs me."

"that's quite alright," he remarks and recovers the body. "same time tomorrow, detective?"

"if that works for you, doc," you reply while shaking his hand again, his grip still firm as ever and the delay in letting go of your own when you try to let go of his still there. this time, however, his hand still stays in your grasp. you flicker your eyes down to your shared hands. "... doc?"

the doctor's stare pierces into your own. there's a weird meld of concern that flows within his hues, however.

"stay safe, detective," he murmurs almost... lovingly? warmly?

you blink, raising your brows at the oddity of his statement. you had just met this man only a few minutes ago, and yet, he was wishing you farewell in a a tender manner that seemed foreign to you.

"oh, uh," you squirm, forcing yourself out of his grasp. "thank you... i will."

the doctor pulls out something from his pocket. a business card. "take this. just in case i'm not here, there's all my contact info if you ever need me."

you accept it gratefully, not bother to looking twice at it given the urgency of the current situation. he gives you another smile, waving to you and your partner before he whisks you away into the safety of your car.

when you buckle your seatbelt and prepare to drive off, you ask if that doctor was new to the morgue, the warmth of his hand still lingering on your palm.

your partner takes the business card of the doctor that you lazily put in the cupholder, reading over the doctor's names and credentials. he squints at the text and designs of it, noticing that on top of the card, there stands a logo of a diamond made up of two triangles. he squints at it.

"um, doctor bachira, right?" your partner asks, "i think so. i remember seeing him at the quarterly conference a few months back, but he wore a medical mask at the time and kind of kept to himself. he's got this reputation of being a loner, so his coworkers kind of stay away from him."

"i see," you mutter under your breath, the ghost of the doctor's eyes still amidst your mind. "you alright though? you looked like you saw a ghost back there."

your partner swallows thickly and nods his head, despite the warble on his lips saying something else. he places the business card back into the cupholder, deciding not to overthink any incessant details during a time like this.

"yeah no... i'm okay," he says hastily, scratching the back of his neck. it feels a little cold to the touch. "i think i was just shocked by the body, that's all."

bachira lifts a blind up from his office window, where he's able to see the parking lot of the morgue. he spots the familiar dark red sedan where you and your partner sit, the front of the car facing him. he chews on his lip, his grip on the pen tightening the more his eyes burn into the figure beside you.

his jaw tightens, teeth squeaking together from the harsh pressure. he was looking forward to today for the longest time. he made sure to plan everything perfectly, from reassigning himself to the nearby morgue where your precinct frequented to making himself the head examiner of kuniaki's body, just so he could run into you "coincidentally." he dressed himself up in his finest clothing, groomed his hair, put on his most expensive cologne, all glammed up to look perfectly handsome for you.

only for the one thing he was looking for all week to escape from his grasps. it's just like last time...

"kira ryosuke," bachira hisses, the pen suddenly snapping in his grip and letting plastic shards prick at his skin. "take (y/n) away from me like that again and let's see what happens."

a/n ; thank you always for reading! i apologize that this wasn't written the best but i'm very impulsive and just began writing what came to mind oopsies.

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated and noticed ♡!

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock oneshot #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bachira meguru #meguru bachira #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru x you #bachira x reader #bachira x you #tw ; yandere #tw ; dark content #gn!reader #blue lock ; bachira meguru

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