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signedeclipse · 1 month

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Ooh, i found your page, and i saw your prompt post about the Multiple/All hashira have feelings for the reader who is the best swordsmith and all want their swords done by her, I think it be funny to also add Hotaru Haganezuka to the mix and him also being like "im not sharing my fellow Smith back off!" :D

I think all would be funny with all hashira, but anyone underage it's like I admire you and you are now my older sibling/parent now.

In which you are the best swordsmith, and the hashira you're assigned to adore you.

Giyuu

He never deserved any kind of special blade, special treatment, or anything above what the average person got

At least, thats how Giyuu thought about things

Recently, his swordsmith had retired, and while he had stated he didn't care who got the job, there was still pressure for him to pick since it was considered some kind of honour

During his visit to the village, he met you at an izakaya, where you were talking with the owner about your proposal for the 'hashira in town'

He felt bad for walking in, knowing you didn't intend for him to hear anything, so he immediately tried to hide in the corner and finish his food sooner

Unfortunately, the owner immediately pointed him out, and asked him to come over to talk to you

Both of you were red with embarrassment, and Giyuu had to insist you stop apologizing

You were nervous about talking about the design, but eventually he caught the gist that you wanted to repurpose another sword into his since older steel was more valuable

You'd clearly done your research because you knew of him and Sabito, and you offered to use Sabito's left-over ore to add to his for some more sentimental value

Giyuu was really keen about the idea, and before the choosing ceremony could occur, he presented himself to Lord Tecchin to request you become his permanent swordsmith

Gyomei

Nichirin blades were the most common weapon used by demon slayers

Gyomei had started with one, but he quickly found his attacks were focused on the impact, and less on the perfect point of precision

He needed something different, but he wasn't sure what

Being a bother was something he hated doing, but he took it upon himself to visit the swordsmith village so he could meet with Lord Tecchin

Even Tecchin was unsure, until one of his guards spoke about you, a budding swordsmith with a less traditional outlook on weapons

Gyomei was willing to try, and he was glad he did

You were a natural creative, he could hear your charcoal sketching along parchment even as it was hidden below melancholic humming

You were interested in his assessment of his inability to use nichirin to its best potential, and after considering several forms of weapons, you both landed on something that could act at various ranges

The flail was a deadly weapon on a stick, but you proposed keeping it on a chain would help him control it, since he could vary how much length he gave the flail to move

"It'll be heavy, though, and hard to know where it's going. How much can you lift?"

"Several thousand kilograms."

"Ah."

You were at a loss for words, but you took him seriously and began working

Gyomei actually had a hand in helping make them, because you could barely carry the flail moulds, let alone the finished product

You instructed his hands on how to feel the weapon, gave him suggestions on use, and described its appearance so he could adjust the colours as he liked

Your patience was appreciated, and Gyomei took it upon himself to make sure you were treated extremely well after the week of gruelling work

Mitsuri

Mitsuri had a very special blade

It needed to be thin enough to bend, but thick enough to remain still when not moving

The only person who had ever managed this perfect precision was Lord Tecchin, but as he grew older, the task became harder

So, there was a contest for a replacement; anyone who wanted to could join

You were intrigued by the idea, but you'd had trouble in the past with your experimental blades, so much so that some friends of yours suggested you leave yourself out

But you wanted to give it a try, besides, you'd heard great things about the love Hashira, and you were sure she wouldn't be mean about it if it didn't meet her standards

Your best idea was to use something other than the scarlet ore to give it further reinforcement, so you created an alluminium-steel alloy that could be coated in scarlet ore by melting the scarlet crimson Iron Sand, which was more flexible than the ore

It resulted in a long, thin, and sturdy blade that could handle nearly triple the force of its original, though it wasn't as flexible as before

On the day of the contest, Mitsuri was extremely interested in your process, and you got to see your creation in its moving form for the first time

Mitsuri was extremely talented, and she had no problem bending the sword with her whipped movements

As it turns out, she had to be careful with her previous swords because she had gotten too strong for them and they got too loose

You easily won, and Mitsuri was beyond joyed to know her swordsmith was not only talented, but also extremely pretty!

She's always sketching herself with her sword on the letters she sends to you and often inviting you out to eat

Expect a lot of recipes sent your way, and a lot of sweet messages detailing how excited she is to see you again

Muichiro

Swords were the least of his concerns when it came to slaying demons

They should always be perfect, always kill without getting in his way; he shouldn't have to ever think about it

But after his run-in with Tanjiro and his previous swordsmith passing away, the concerns bubbled up

He didn't have time to spend waiting on some smith to make something comparable to what he wielded, he needed something just as good, if not better

So the search began, and of course, your name popped up a lot when he'd ask who was 'the best'

You were young, close to his age, and you were hard at work when he found you

Muichiro ignores every craftsman sword hung upon your wall, disregards every talent, and demands you take him on

But stubborn meets stubborn, and when you say no, hes taken back

What do you mean 'no'? Do you have any idea how much of a speck you are compared to him?

The challenge you present nags at him, and he decides youre not worth it; he can always ask someone else

But the idea of anything less than perfect, the annoyance of you denying him, it manages to peer through the mind fog several times to the point of annoyance

Fine, he'll say please and apologize, because your craftsmanship is worth it

When he does get his sword, he's even more irked that it never so much as scratches, and works extremely hard to try and break it just so he can tell everyone you aren't as good as they say

It never happens

Obanai

No one could get his concept right

A lot of people thought he wanted what Mitsuri had, which he thought was extremely well crafted, but it wasn't exactly what he needed

Mitsuri had the arm strength to handle a weapon that long and precise, but he needed something smaller, more sturdy, but with 'joints' of weakness

His concept was rejected by many, and his frustration was beginning to boil

When you came up to him, requesting to make it, he had already given up and mentioned he was leaving soon, and not to bother him

Even after leaving the village and resigning into using the typical blade, he was surprised when you found your way all the way out to his mission point just to deliver him a weapon he never asked for

He didn't like that someone had intruded on his mission, but when you were both attacked and he had a chance to use it, he had a hard time being mad

The weak points of the weapon started far apart and got closer together near the top, giving the blade a wave-like appearance that certainly looked odd

But when moved with enough force and velocity, the joints could be bent further to reach around corners in odd ways, following his movements with a latency that let him fit it through impossible holes and bends

It was everything he was looking for and more, considering he only proposed two joints and you'd delivered nearly twenty in a blade as short as seventy centimetres

Hes impressed, but hes still mad you made this journey and put yourself in danger, so of course he is going to take you all the way back to the village

Personally

With no one else

And listen to you talk the whole time

Yea

Sanemi

Sure, swords were important, but he didn't give them much thought

He was always getting new ones because his always chipped, snapped, and scratched with all the force he was putting on them

The blades were built for flesh, but he didn't care, he practiced cutting rocks and throwing the blade like it was some kind of toy

Eventually, his destructive tendancy drove his swordsmith to quitting, as many others had, and he was once again called into the village to find another

The choosing ceremony was skipped with him, since it often ended up with him insulting everyone and picking the person who cried the least

So now he just went from workshop to workshop, looking at what people could offer

Your workshop looked the newest, with freshly varnished wood and some construction materials still left on the side of the den you worked out of

It was just you in the workshop, with new bulletin boards already covered in sketches and schematics, and a shelf of ores labelled by size, strength, and purity

Sanemi figured since you were new, you'd take longer to break and give up, so he resigned to Lord Tecchin whom he had picked and challenged you to have it done by the next day

It was an impossible challenge, but that was the point

Even so, the next day you were at his door by the crack of dawn, not one, but two identicle blades ready for him to retrieve

They were perfect, left matte instead of shining, and sharp enough to cut a perfect lien through the most delicate and loose fabric

Sanemi hated to admit it, but he appreciated that you'd at least already prepared him a replacement

When he tried them out for the first time, he finds they last a lot longer, and it takes him several months for a chip to occur in it

Even then, he has a second one, so for the first time in years, he's been away from the village for more than six months

You're not perfect, but you're certainly good, and he's thrilled to see what more you can do with a few more years of practice

Shinobu

When Shinobu first started toying with the idea of wisteria poison as an effective killing method, the hardest part was figuring out how to apply it to a blade

Injection was most effective, but needles were chunky and harder to get into demons campared to something broad like a nichirin blade

So she was reffered to you, and you drafted up several ideas that you felt she might enjoy

Other swordmen felt it was an insult to the dark, to remove the central half of the blade, but it was the easiest way for her to have something light without shortening the blade or thinning it out and risking it snapping

The planning resulted in a very unique blade but an even more unique sheath

Shinobu hadn't asked, but you lined it with a spongy fabric so that she could fill it with the poison and automatically apply itself along the blade

It had a drain, anti-microbial and anti-rusting additions, and a beautiful handpainted pattern along its outside.

The amount of thought you put into it really astonished her, and while she never had issues with the design, Shinobu made sure to have a bi-annual trip to visit you

Along with the many letters she would send with news and treats from the butterfly mansion

Being able to share her experiences with you with other hashira or corps members gives her a sense of pride, especially when she gets to show off something she used to view as a sign of weakness

Authors Note - I have wanted to write this prompt for SO LONG!! Its a lot of characters, so I apologize but I left out Uzio, Kyojuro, and Haganezuka to focus on those I had the most ideas for!

Thank you for requesting, anon!

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beatrixstonehill2 · 9 months

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"Jesus, these things are going to fill my lap in another couple months. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy my college signed me up for this clinical trial, but I am starting to get a bit concerned with how massive and heavy my boobs are going to get. Like.... only a few months ago I was a C-Cup. They're already humongous..... The people at the trial make me strip in front of a bunch of pharmaceutical execs. They weigh my breasts, poke and prod them, squeeze them, crush them in vices, and sometimes they even inject huge syringes of saline right into them, one after another, making them even more swollen and huge, telling me these saline treatment are 'just part of the trial'. I think they just like filling my boobs with a gallon of saline each to see me struggle to keep my back straight.

I ask them how long the trial will go on, how many more months I need to take the breast growth pills. Like, they clearly work..... But they just tell me as long as possible to test the limits of the medicine. I try to get them to tell me how big my boobs will get and they avoid the question, telling me not to worry and enjoy them. I tell them my back hurts really bad now and they laugh. I say, 'It won't be so funny if my spine snaps and I wind up paralyzed!' The scientists and execs just shrug and tell me when my spine snaps they'll ensure I have every possible accommodation to complete my diploma. They never say 'if', they say 'when'.....

I try to tell them I don't want to wind up paralyzed, but they say it's not really a big deal and I'll be able to live a perfectly fulfilling life, that their research is what's important. I got frustrated one time and blurted out that I won't be able to feel my pussy or when guys fuck me. They told me it's a good thing, men can be as rough as they want and I won't even feel it. I guess they have a point, that's kind of nice. I said I'll miss cumming, and they told me my pussy will still cum. I might not feel it, but it'll react physically on its own and squirt if men fuck me hard enough and rub/smack my clit enough. I guess that's OK...... as long as men can still make me squirt. It'll suck not feeling it but it'll be kinda fun to watch men have their way with me.

I guess I'm really dedicated to this clinical trial after all. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having fun growing such a giant pair of boobs. Soon they'll fill my lap and probably get way bigger. They'll weigh well over 100lbs each.... I'll need help to do just about anything regardless of whether or not my poor spine gives out. But I do agree..... I think it'd be more fun if it did, plus the people running the trial seem excited for it to happen. So, I don't wanna disappoint them. Hopefully my boobs get so humongous they totally surround me..... I wonder how much saline the team running the trial will pump into them for fun after that? A whole bathtub's worth? My boobs will be so fucking swollen and impossible to budge. All I'll be will be a poor, stationary girl who'll really only exist to serve cock; what else are such monstrous breasts useful for? And the rest of me will be a playground for men to use however they see fit. At least I don't need to be able to move to do therapy sessions online once I graduate and become a psychiatrist. Maybe I'll hold in person sessions anyway and judge my patients' mental state on how harshly they treat my gigantic breasts? With any luck it'll be a revolutionary new approach other girls decide to imitate. Wouldn't that be nice? ❤️"

#breast expansion #be #enormous breasts #breast inflation #gigantic breasts #immobility kink #dark kinks

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thesummerpetrichor · 4 months

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𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓘 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾:

𝒪𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈

Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Its been five months since you started sleeping together, and you're having second thoughts about your "relationship" with Javier. But what does it matter to him? he hasn't even kissed you yet. 🍒 Continuation of “Off to the Races” and “Your Face is Shameless” but can be read alone.

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, thicc age gap [Javi is in his 40s reader is in her early 20s], mentions of anxiety, major angst, situationship, guilt, unrequited love, self loathing, kissing [they did it!], Javier is emotionally unavailable, petnames, major dom/sub dynamic [dd/lg ish vibes], mean!Javi then soft!dom!Javi, degradation, dumbification, minor objectification, major size kink [Javi is bigger than and can lift reader], praise kink [finally some good girl action], daddy kink, choking, pussy pronouns, finger sucking, oral [f receiving], unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if i missed anything 🫶

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello!! I'm back!! thought it would be fitting to revisit these two post hiatus. Sorry in advance for the emotional torture that is about to ensue, but I couldn't help myself. Big thank you to @pixelsandothernonsense for being a big supporter of these two and fuelling their return on the blog time and time again. Lotsa plot, lotsa porn– as always. Hope you enjoy, nasties. Mwah

🍒Off to the races 🍒Your face is shameless 🍒Masterlist

You wanted it to be easy but it’s difficult. You wanted it to be over, but it was not.

While Colombia seemed to be all fun and games at first sight, the longer you remained stuck in the American embassy’s city centre building the more you longed for home.

Your research was hitting a roadblock, and things were hard. Funding was running out, and your professors were running away. Better jobs, better prospects. But your degree was the least cause for your troubles.

You were smart. You were controlled. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you got yourself involved with Javier Peña. It seemed fun at the moment- fooling around, messing with a man double your age and four times more qualified. Trying to wrangle his true intentions out from under his furrowed brow and frown.

Looking back you felt stupid. Embarrassed. A little ashamed of what you had become. How you let him treat you.

He used you like a walking sex doll. Didn’t give you one look afterwards. Maybe a pat on the back but somehow that was more insulting. He had never kissed you. And there you were, fixing your makeup in the office bathroom after an evening under his desk had ruined it.

It had been five months since the first time he'd bent you over his desk but you were only half way through your trip. Five more months seemed too long to bear. It made you sick.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, and sleepy and your clothes weren’t crisp as usual. You felt a little bit like the tissue you’d just dabbed against your cheek. A little flimsy and a little dirty. A little used, perhaps.

It felt a little worse knowing it was all your doing. You weren’t expecting a man like Javier to change. Objectively, it wasn’t possible. But you still asked for more. For him to use and then forget about you. You wanted to leave. You wished he’d never seen this side of you. Frankly you wished you hadn’t either.

Because you were smart and funny and interesting and could talk about all sorts of things. You liked music and books and movies and trying new food. But he’d never seen you that way. He never would.

You hadn’t spoken to him once. Not about anything that wasn’t strictly utilitarian. Especially not after he started fucking you. It was far too awkward and far too intimate.

For him.

Your feelings flip flopped every day, from the casualty of the affair seeming rather appealing, to it making your chest ache. And yet you couldn’t seem to help yourself, unable to understand not only what this thing you had going on with Agent Peña was, but why you couldn't seem to stop.

Five months camping out in the office and you hadn’t missed a single day. No matter how bad the hurt in your chest you rolled out of bed and reminded yourself of why you were where you were. It worked. It hurt, but it worked.

But after five months it seemed like getting out of bed was suddenly impossible one morning and you thought it best to stay home. You got a few calls. One from Fiestl and Van Ness. Connie Murphy sent Steve over with soup when she heard you weren’t feeling well.

No news from Javi Peña.

You slept most of the day. With your computer shut and materials put away. You didn’t want to think about it. You fixed yourself dinner- instant noodles, and headed to bed once again.

You thought it was temporary but the excruciating pain only lingered and carried you on to another day confined to the four walls of your bedroom.

It was a bad idea- ignoring your work for as long as you did. You should have known that you wouldn’t be able to put it on the back burner- considering the neurosis surrounding your work, the fact you took a two day break was impressive. It wasn’t long before your anxiety was eating away at you, an impending deadline hanging over your head and reminding you the world didn't care about your little pity party.

Stupid as it was, you found yourself crossing the street at the witching hour of 23:00- clad in the soft cotton dress you forced yourself into earlier that evening. The friday night had persuaded everyone out of the office, and you weren’t surprised when you found the top floor of the embassy building cold and empty.

You were glad, and perhaps it was the only way you could stomach being there– alone.

Your desk was exactly how you’d left it a couple of days ago- your books piled in one corner, papers thrown all over the place. It was disorganised and untidy– very unlike you. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you began to sort things out, a feeling of complete exhaustion and defeat threatening to force you into your office chair. You glanced over at Javier’s office, signs he was out for the week prompting the slight relaxation of your shoulders.

When you finally sat down to get to work, your eyes couldn't help but flutter shut every few moments, the screen of your computer zoning in and out of your vision every now and then. The words seemed to escape you, four lines on your document all you could manage before you were pressing your forehead against the wood of your desk.

After spending the past two days sleeping somehow all you wanted to do was climb right back into bed.

Music, surely that would help! Or at least you thought, to no avail, a whole album played once, yet you could only manage another paragraph. Turns out burnout was real.. and it had decided now was the best time to get you. But you weren’t ready to pack up and banish yourself to your studio apartment just yet. So you upped the volume, and sat up just a little bit straighter in your chair, and got back to work.

Something about the loneliness of working in that drab, white, characterless office was especially miserable. So miserable in fact it was almost comforting, it was so miserable it was funny. It wasn't long before you were sitting completely straight in that sad, uncomfortable office chair, laughing at yourself with a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. You were stupid, and acted silly, and had all these big feelings, but what did it matter? It was diabolical; the capacity Javier had for ruining your life, but soon enough you’d be out of here and one day you’d probably be laughing at the whole ordeal.

It was exhausting, but what could you do? The words came just a little bit easier from that point, and you felt yourself accept defeat and immersed yourself in your paper. At the end of the day you couldn’t control how he felt about you- you just had to take it or leave it. Not everything is that deep, you rolled your eyes at yourself, but you knew truthfully the lack of his care and affection was more than a little sting. You decided you were better off defining the “relationship” for yourself, and maybe showing a little bit more restraint. Who said everything had to be that serious, maybe you should've taken a page out of Javier’s book!

Yes that was it, not everything was that serious, was it?

You really wished you’d had the foresight to gauge the stupidity of trying to drown out your surroundings in a public space in the middle of the night. Sure, no external threat could get you inside the excessively secure embassy building, but what did that mean when the real threat to your sanity was the DEA attache.

Truth be told, you'd have jumped in fear if anyone had tapped their fingers on your computer screen, but when Javier rounded your desk with a raised brow and waved his hand in front of your computer, you were particularly startled.

“The hell are you doing here?”

Any other time you’d probably met him with a snappy reply, something to get him going, maybe rile him up enough till he was pressing your face against your papers and fucking you from the back. You wished you could have given him that response that day, but you were so completely out of yourself, you settled for a shrug and a normal “trying to finish this section”.

“That why you disappeared these past two days?”

“I wish.. probably would have been done by now.” His brows kit, somewhat confused and just noticing your tired, puffy eyes now that he was closer.

“When’s it due.” he leaned to sit on your table , and traced your features with his fingers. You felt your eyes flutter shut as the tip of his index ran along the bridge of your nose, and feared your new policy was at risk of being thrown right out of the window at his attention. Sighing, you leaned into his touch. Unhappy, but unable to resist it. “Next week.”

He pitched your damp cheeks between his fingers, gently shaking your head from side to side. “You've got time.”

You hummed and took a moment to look up at him- yellow table lamp doing his golden features all sorts of favours, ones that he didn't even need to begin with if you were being honest.The weight of his hand, the roughness of his skin against yours had a soft sigh escaping your lips.

Javier's hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to the back of your neck, and he gently guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you helped yourself up long enough to watch him rise beside you, stepping closer. He stepped around you, positioning himself between yourself and the chair, his breath warm against your ear.

"Sit," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His hand moved to the back of your neck again, this time pulling you down onto his lap. The gesture was possessive, not tender.

You obeyed, lowering yourself onto him, your legs on either side of his waist, dangling off the seat. Javier's hands rested on your waist momentarily, heavy and harsh, before drifting lower to your hips, pulling you further into his lap till you could feel his bulge swell against you. You felt yourself get wet, he lifted your hips and then pulled you back down against him, allowing you the slight relief of the friction as you felt yourself embarrassingly throb against him.

The proximity was suffocating, his scent—cigarettes, and aftershave. He leaned closer, and for a moment, in your delusion, you thought he might kiss you. Instead his fingers squeezed around your throat, breath fanning your lips. “You want to be daddy’s good girl, dontch’ya?” his voice was low, and biting, and you knew you were in for it, for avoiding him, when he tightened his grip at your lack of answer.

Slick pooled in your panties, and he let you press your hot core against him, undoubtedly able to feel how easily he could unravel you. You shifted your gaze up at the ceiling to avoid his own.

You squeaked out a feeble “yes”, already delirious. “Then why the fuck, did you think you could disappear without telling me?” He reached for the string that held together the top of your dress, rather aggressively tugging it undone, watching as it unravelled and revealed the soft cotton of your lingerie. “Busy” you whined when traced your skin with his pointer finger, palm coming to squeeze at your breast and then pull your bra aside.

“Not looking too busy now, are ya?” your nipple pebbled under his palm, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he trailed open mouth kisses along your neck. You whimpered, reaching to tangle your fingers in Javier’s hair. Surprisingly, he let you tug on his locks, allowing you to ground yourself as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your bud. He came up to nip at your jaw and you whimpered a soft “M’ sorry”.

“What was that?” Javier rolled his eyes and growled in your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth, and pinching the flesh of your thighs, prompting you to speak up. And speak up you did, heat seeping into your panties at his tone and words. He didn’t respond to you, just hummed his assent and pulled you harder against him.

His hands found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and his big arms crossed under you to support your weight. Continuing to kiss along your neck he plopped you on the table, but you couldn’t lie, you much preferred being carried so gently in his hold. Thank god the desk had been cleared– giving him enough room to push you back against it. You didn't really want to unwrap your legs from around him, but he grunted disapprovingly before prying your legs from his waist. Your heart jumped as he took a seat on your dingy rolly chair, his large palms lifting your legs by your calves till your feet were planted on his thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows.

Javier's eyes caught sight of your untied shoelace, a small hazard in the midst of your hurried night. As usual, without a word, he leaned down, fingers deftly working to tie the lace in a swift, fluid motion, securing the bow with a final, firm tug, patting the top of your shoe before returning to the task at hand.

His eyes were hungry like they always were, deep brown, alluring, the only readable emotion in them- lust. Those large palms parted your knees, making space for you between them. A tingle ran up your spine when he brushed the tips of his fingers against the inside of your thigh, dragging them along your skin till he was toying with the hem of your panties. He shifted forward in the chair, meeting your eyes as he planted a kiss on your calf, and then hoisted your legs up on his shoulders.

Javier took a moment to admire you, letting his rough hands roam under your skirt. You always wondered what those hands were doing; how they wrapped around his gun when he ran out of the office with it, how small they made the cigarette he was smoking look. You watched him grab, and hold, and type from across your desk when he hadn’t fucked you in a day or two, imagined those hands grabbing at your flesh and wrapping around your throat. You imagined him pumping his fingers in and out your pussy with your own hands between your legs in the middle of the night- unable to go mere days without him fucking you, salivating at the thought of those hands wrapped around his thick cock, wondering if he too couldn’t go without your touch.

Lost in your thoughts you shuddered when you felt him drag his tongue up the cut of your slit, the already moist fabric of your panties sticking to your skin as he nudged your clit with his nose. Your head fell back involuntarily, and you felt your arms ache as you continued to struggle to hold yourself up on your elbows. Seemingly, he had decided that day he wasn’t going to make you work for it- you looked like you were working far too much already.

“Look at me.” Javier sharply instructed from between your legs. Nipping the inside of your right thigh till you yelped in his hold. You weren't going to last very long at the sight of him, eyes glancing up at you as his mouth ghosted over your soaked pussy. You watched intently as his fingers pulled your panties aside, softly grazing your swollen flesh in a way that had you pulling your lip between your teeth to contain the pornographic moan that threatened to spill from your mouth and alert the security guard across the hall.

Your leg twitched on his shoulder as he licked a long, firm stripe up your aching pussy. Both your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue softly explored your folds. The sight of Javier between your legs was enough to send you over the edge, one that would live in your head for a very long time.

You struggled to hold his eyes with your own when he licked at your entrance, increasing his pace ever so slightly before he was softly sucking your clit into his mouth. Letting yourself lean back against the table you reached to continue to tangle your fingers in his hair, hoping he'd let you have his fluffy locks in your hold. Turns out you were lucky the first time, because as was more common, Javier reminded you of his “no grabbing at daddy” attitude by grasping your hand in his.

“No grabbin at daddy, babygirl” he murmured against your wetness and you shivered. His fingers engulfed yours, stroking your skin and moving your hands to your chest. His large palm covered yours and squeezed your fingers around your breasts. You moaned, and arched your back against the table up into both your palms as his tongue achingly slipped inside you.

The feel of his mouth against you was more than perfect, the way he expertly ate you out till you were wiggling your hips against his face, his nose nudging your clit as he fucked you with his tongue. Slow and soft then faster and rough, just how he knew you liked it.

He seemed to be enjoying the feeling of you just as much, groaning against your wet cunt everytime you twitched and shuddered against him, the taste of you prompting him only to bury himself deeper between your thighs, pull and grab at your hips, hold you close against him as your chest rose and fell.

Javier lashed his tongue at your entrance, then plunged it into your slick cunt. You felt your core tighten, and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. “Please…” barely able to complete your sentence you squealed when he circled your clit with his tongue. You could feel him grin against the inside of your thigh, and you reached for his hands on your hips to tug at his fingers feebly.

Making out the sound of his chuckle over your heavy breathing you whined, and then proceeded to melt in his hold when he responded with a rather gentle, yet delayed and somewhat playfully annoyed “You can come for daddy, babygirl.”

The grip of your fingers on his tightened, and you sighed, finally letting go as Javier worked between your legs. Your cunt clamped down on his tongue as he finished you off, licking you through your orgasm and holding your hips down as you shook and squirmed above him.

He kissed along your seam gently as you caught your breath, your breath hitching when he pushed two fingers in your still sensitive cunt to gently stroke your walls. He stifled a groan. You looked down between your legs as he withdrew those fingers and began to stand up. “She so fuckin wet for me, hmm?” He rubbed slow, soft circles on your clit, not caring to watch you intently for any giveaway that would instruct him on the perfect rhythm. He already knew what you liked- he didn’t need to bother. “Slutty little pussy achin’ to be fucked… after all these days, aint she?”

He took a second to get a good look at you as he moved closer between your legs, and you propped yourself back up on your elbows and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in.

“My good little slut”

Bringing his fingers to your lips he urged them open, pushing in and watching you suck gently on his digits. You shivered at the taste of your own arousal. As always you felt a little fuzzy when he did something like that– letting your eyes droop until he nudged you to release them with a pop. He ran those fingers across your lips, watching you struggle to keep your eyes on him as his hand drifted downwards to wrap swiftly around your neck. “That's better isn't it?” he pressed his clothed cock against your bare, swollen pussy, your panties surely on the verge of ripping the way they’d been pulled aside. Javier seemed to be thinking along the same lines as you, because in a moment he reached for them and urgently dragged them down your hips, unwrapping himself from your hold and holding your ankles in one hand as the other slid your panties all the way off of you.

When you whined at the loss of his body against yours he tutted, raising his eyebrows at you in warning.

He then grabbed your thigh with his hand once again, squeezing it and holding it in place against his waist. You heard the jingle of his belt as he undid it. A rough edge on said belt scraped against your skin, but it was difficult to pay attention to it when you felt him reach between your bodies to tease your dripping slit with his length.

It was sad to admit, but nothing took the weight of your shoulders much like the feeling of his hard cock sliding against your wet pussy, head bumping your clit till you were shivering and then notching at your entrance. You heard him mutter a strained curse under his breath at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in. Javier didn't waste much time, as much as he seemed to enjoy the sight of you deliriously wiggling your hips under him.

He leaned down and traced the curve of your jaw with the bridge of his nose, breathing in your scent as he pushed in– slowly and gently. Much slower and gentler than he had ever been before. Your legs tightened around him, hips lifting pathetically as you felt him stretch you open. It had been far too long since you’d had him inside you.

“Such a good little girl..” His hips snapped towards yours.

“Aren’t ya?” It was an out of body experience, so overwhelming and dizzying you could almost see yourself in the act. Your brain couldn’t comprehend that tone and that gentleness as is, forget when Javier’s cock dragged deliciously against your aching walls.

Your elbows caved from under you, letting you fall completely back against your little desk. Your head went to fall back soon after, but Javier had managed to snake his hand behind your neck– cradling your head and shielding it from the hard wooden table. Instinctively, you buried your nose in the collar of his dress shirt. He let you seek respite, palm holding you against his warm body, and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck.

Your skin felt like pins and needles, little sparks bounced off your exposed waist and prompted you to wiggle your hips away from him at the intensity of the sensations. “Nah uh” yanking you back in his direction Javier squeezed your hips in his hands, refusing to let you escape the death grip he had on your body, pulling you towards him with every deep, slow, thrust.

“Silly little thing” He laughed against your lips, so close they brushed against you. You couldn’t help it when your mouth fell slack against his. He took your bottom lip between his teeth. He released it as your walls clenched around him, brows knitting at the feel of your warm, soft cunt around his cock.

“Mine aren’t ya? Daddy’s good little slut?” Unable to catch hold of anything on the table, your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers twisting the fabric as you gripped it as tightly as you could. He let you pull him towards you, one hand sneaking between your bodies to grab and squeeze at your breast.

“Then you’re gonna take it like I give it to ya?” You tried to nod, head lulling side to side and mouth hanging open, desperate noises leaving your lips. When your back arched against the table he pulled you into his chest, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so tightly you felt the leather of his belt cut into your soft skin.

Eventually he picked up his pace, and you could make out the sound of your pens clattering to the ground as your back moved relentlessly against the desk. The dim grey flood light above you came in and out of your focus, the heat that swelled up inside you hindering your ability to concentrate on absolutely anything. “Getting all cock drunk on me..” Anything but him. Yet another orgasm stirred in your tummy, your entire body hot and tingling with overwhelm. “There’s my good girl”.

He pulled you into him with every thrust, his hard length throbbing inside of you. “Just how I like ya’– no thoughts in that head’ve yours.” Your bare chest pressed against his soft shirt, but you longed to feel the heat of his body against your skin.

“Can't think ‘bout anything but daddy can you?” he managed to laugh, his thick cock dragging against your wet walls in a way that had your mouth falling open in a gasp. “Just daddy, ain't that right?” As usual he grabbed at every part of you he could, hands seeking purchase on any exposed skin.

He grazed your earlobe with his teeth as he spoke. “Poor baby, going dumb on daddy.” All you could do was whine. “Can’t hear ya..” you whimpered again, strained and hasty “yes”s leaving your mouth at record speed as the tension in your core threatened to burst.

“S’ how it should be” your dress made it easy for you to slide along the surface of the table as he fucked into your tight, wet heat, railing you as you twitched around him. You struggled to form a broken “daddy” between your lips.

“Stupid little girl can’t do anything but be daddy’s little sexdoll hmm?” you shook your head, but he grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “‘S okay babylove, s’ how daddy likes ya best” he shook your face gently, “when ya ain't runnin that smart mouth of yours.”

He grunted and sighs above you, seemingly lost in his own pleasure, not bothering for the first time to make you beg. It was as if the two days you spent apart had him prioritising other things. “Better this way isn’t it, nothin you gotta worry that pretty head about…” you felt your cunt squeeze him. “Not when daddy’s fuckin’ ya’”

You could tell he was close by the way his thick cock throbbed against your slick walls, the way his Texan accent came through just a little more than it usually did. Your thighs quivered against his waist as the heat continued to pool in your belly.

You knew he was close when he straightened up again, hands wrapping firmly around your throat as he angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you over and over. “C’mon baby, be a good girl and come for daddy” he tightened his grip, thumb reaching up to swipe gently at your slack lips.

You felt your pussy clench around his cock, finally letting go as you writhed under him. You heard him groan over the ringing in your ears, your own eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolled over you in waves. You gushed around him, your own release prompting his.

Watching his brows knit as his thrusts got sloppy might have well sent you on a second release, aftershocks making your hips wiggle against his palms as he squeezed them, his cock throbbing inside you before he erupted with a shudder. A string of strained curses escaped his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his high.

You laid there, the heat from your exertion slowly dissipating. You felt Javier pull out, his spend trickling down your thighs, and slide your panties back up over your legs. A heaviness tugged at your limbs and made your eyelids droop. Every muscle felt loose, languid, as if all the tension and energy had been drawn out, leaving behind only a deep, satisfying fatigue.

Javier put his hands on your waist and lifted you off the table, you returned to your habitual silence, this time albeit far more satiated than before. You were dizzy, feeling like a small ghost floating in front of him, engulfed by his towering form. The world around you began to fade, sounds muffling and blurring into an indistinct background hum.

Every blink became slower, your vision narrowing to slits before closing entirely. You let yourself drift into that warm state between sleep and wakefulness, the exhaustion of the week catching up to you in more ways than one, uncaring of the sense that Javier’s eyes had been lingering. You felt him trace the bridge of your nose, reducing any prospects of you actually getting off that desk.

He fixed your lingerie and tied the bow of your dress back up, one hand returning to stroke your cheek. His other arm came to support your back as it wrapped around you, pulling you towards him. You looked up to find him watching you, with an expression you couldn’t bother to decipher at the moment.

You couldn’t help but fall into his chest as he stood above you, his arms reaching behind you as he packed your things in your work bag. You felt your eyes flutter shut again, complete exhaustion taking over your weak form. He placed a kiss to your temple, lifting you off the table once and into his hold once again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking securely at the ankles. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, fingers digging into your flesh.

You felt cold again suddenly, and Javier readjusted his arms to hold you with his right while his left rubbed along your shoulders to warm up your skin, prickled with goosebumps.

Your head rested against his shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a comforting, rhythmic lull. You nuzzled deeper into the curve of his neck, tilting your head till your nose was brushing the cut of his jaw.

Javier shifted slightly, and you could feel the subtle change in his posture as he leaned towards you, and his face came level with yours– you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the cool air around you. His hand cradled your cheek.

With your eyes still closed you felt his lips press gently against yours, so pillowy and soft you barely registered them. He tasted how you’d imagined so many times before– cigarettes, and whiskey. Melting into his touch your hands moved to ball the fabric of his shirt gently in your fist. His lips moved against your’s with a carefulness you couldn’t really understand, but the fact that they were at all was enough. Exhaustion aside, you had a feeling the triviality of the whole ordeal, its comfort and normality seemed expected. And just as quickly as it began, it was over.

Perhaps it had always meant a lot more to you, than it did to him.

The hand that was cupping your cheek pinched it and then snaked around your waist to help you find your footing on the ground, the same hand coming down to slap your ass as he pushed you towards the door.

In usual Javier fashion he checked his phone, uninterestedly murmuring a soft “you can start again tomorrow” as you stood in the elevator. He let you lean against him, his palm coming down to pat your head momentarily before it was back to sorting the files in his hands. You looked up at him, his mind now completely diverted to whatever he had come to collect in the office in the first place, so unbothered by what seemed to transpire between the two of you.

Perhaps nothing really did.

You wished his words gave you some motivation, but it was turning out to be really difficult to want to be anything more than his dumb, silly, little girl.

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

They would rue the day I was alone, without you

You're lyin' with your gold chain on

Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"

"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"

sakjdlakd I'm sorry I just can't let them be happy lmao. Hope you enjoyed this, and let me know what you think. Thank you to everyone who reblogs and comments on my content, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @/sardika 🐝✨💗

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bunnysbrainrot · 11 months

Text

Discreet

Kinktober Prompt: Dirty Talk

Relationship: Dean Winhester x Reader

Content: Sexual content, implied sex, sexting, Dean has a breeding kink, mentions of cum/creampies, exhibitionism fantasies.

Summary: While trying to focus on research, Dean executes a plan to distract you, shamelessly in front of his brother. Can you hold it together, or will you crack under the pressure?

"Hold on, I think we're looking at the wrong Louisville," Sam speaks up. You whip your head to the brother before opening your laptop to inspect for yourself.

Dean arches an eyebrow, "Sam, there are a million Louisville's, you gotta narrow it down."

In his lap, Dean begins to type into his phone. You shift in your seat, staring at your open laptop, opened to a list of different states that are each home to a different Louisville. In your back pocket your phone vibrates against your chair. You glance at Dean before opening the new notification.

I'm bored.

You stifle a laugh but roll your eyes, replying to Dean.

Another vamp case isn't enough for you?

You see Dean smirk out of your periphery. Sam's brows furrow as he mutters to himself, scrolling through different sites and resources, occasionally asking for your and Dean's input.

"We've checked Kentucky and Georgia already - I think Ohio should be next on our list."

"Since when do Vampires attack cities just based on its name?"

Sam clears his throat. Your phone vibrates in your hand; you swiftly check the message, but instantly forget the start of Sam's explanation.

You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now.

A rush of red floods your cheeks before you shove the phone back into your pocket. You snap back to attention for Sam, though your mind is traveling elsewhere.

"The way I see it, vampires can have a pretty twisted sense of humor. It's possible that vamps from all of these different states thought it would be funny to go after their own Louisvilles."

Despite Sam's talking, Dean's attention is set on you as you try to pay attention. He smiles when he watches you falter over Sam's words, and laughs when you have to ask Sam to repeat part of what he said. Of course Sam pays little mind at first and simply reiterates, but still shifts his attention to Dean. You take a break to reply to him.

right now??? Dean we're literally in the middle of our research.

A swift reply from a too-cool Dean: I know.

You put down your phone with a short exhale and school yourself back into a research mindset. A few minutes pass without a disturbance, save for the occasional comment or question from you or Sam, but there was radio silence from Dean. Until he prods further, at least.

"Hey, check the link I sent you," after you perk your head up, you realize that Dean's focus is on you once again.

"Could you send it to me, too, Dean?" Sam requests.

Dean quickly changes the subject, "It's not for the case, it was somethin' we were talking about earlier. But trust me, if I find anymore nerd content, I'll send it your way."

Sam gives his brother a glare before he tends back to his laptop. You comply with Dean and look at your phone, and it takes everything in your willpower to keep yourself collected.

I would fuck you on this table right now, if I could. You're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

You accidentally chuckle, bringing Sam to attention again. You mutter an apology at his confused look and you both look back to your computers. Hiding your phone behind your laptop screen and out of view, you watch the flood of Dean's texts come in.

You would sound so much prettier if I could hear your screams echo off the walls.

Warmth floods between your thighs - you instinctively clench onto nothing but the thought of Dean buried in you, splayed wide on the mahogany table. Your mind rushes to the idea of Dean bending you over onto the wood, holding you firmly at the hips as he juts his hips from behind.

Everything alright, sweetheart?

His teasing leaves you scowling at your phone. Hopefully your expression could be assumed to be directed at your research, which hasn't made any progress, no thanks to Dean. You debate your reply before sending it.

What else would you do?

You see a smile stretch Dean's lips as he prepares his response. You tense as you await, but his text is drawn out, making you wait. Dean was delivering this flawlessly - just enough to watch you squirm and lose yourself to the thoughts.

I would start out slow. Ideally you'd just be in a t-shirt and panties, sitting right here in front of me on the table. I would lean you back, and slowly pull your panties to the side...

It was all he gave you, for the time being. You shift in your seat again, clicking your laptop a few times to build the illusion of intent research.

Your phone buzzes with a new message.

I would start with my fingers. I'd tug your panties to the side, and slip a finger in. You'd sound so much better when you'd try to keep quiet. I would make you come with one finger, then two, then three.

The reply to him is short, but it's all you can muster as you've fallen under his spell, Would we be alone?

Dean clears his throat before he rises from the table. He holds an arm in front of his crotch and quickly turns to leave for the kitchen.

"Want a beer?" he asks generally.

Fuck, you needed more than a beer. To deal with this, he should've offered a handle of vodka for you to drown out the untimely advances.

"Sure," echo you and Sam, smiling at each other that you spoke at the same time. After all these months with the brothers, you all had really begun to mimic behaviors. It was a beautiful sign of the time you've shared and the intricate work you all put into your relationships.

It's a nice way to clear your clouded head. That is, until you see a new reply from Dean. You make a particular effort to watch Sam out of the corner of your eye.

Doesn't matter. If someone was home, they'd have a hell of a show.

You quip, You're feeling pretty bold, huh?

He reminds you, Again, you're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

Dean comes back into the room, meticulously holding three beers in one hand, while he texts with the other. You're intently eyeing your phone as you await his reply.

I'd add my tongue, too. I know exactly what pretty sounds you make when I've got my fingers in your pussy, and your clit in my mouth. You'd look so pretty trying to grip onto the table.

The scowl stitching your brows together softens as you feed into the flirtations. A fresh flow of heat melts between your legs, reminding you immediately of the power Dean could have over your body, even without using his hands.

You'd be shaking by the time I was done. You would be begging like you always do. Begging for my cock, begging me to fill up your needy pussy. Cause my hands just aren't enough to fuck you dumb, are they?

Breath hitches in your throat. Are you seriously about to full-on sext Dean right in front of his brother? Surely, Sam would have to notice at some point, though Dean shows no sign of him regarding it.

No, sir, you admit. You prop your phone back on your laptop and 'continue to research', pathetically at that.

Sweet girl is always needing my big cock to ruin her insides, isn't she?

The image of Dean's length intrudes your thoughts, throbbing and leaking with beads of precum. You can envision its warmth at your entrance, and the way Dean notches the thick head of him into your tight hole before he eases himself inside. Your fingers ache with the effort of not shoving them into your slicked panties to toy with yourself.

Dean's teasing doesn't ease in the slightest. If anything, it seems like he's trying to have you undone. Begging.

You'd ride me in the chair, first. I would have you fuck yourself onto my cock, but you wouldn't be able to come yet. Not until I can watch the way I stretch you open on the table.

Sam's muttering saves you from falling too deep into the rabbit hole Dean's excavated for you. You steady your breath, debating the risk of replying back to Dean. If he's finding amusement in doing this, you can't tell - his expression is cool and collected, to your frustration.

Do you know that your tummy bulges when I'm inside you? I'd make you watch. You'd see how my big cock shoves into that tight pussy, stretching her wide open for me.

You squirm helplessly in your seat, crossing your legs to stifle the dull throbbing radiating from your clit. With your thighs shifting together, you brace yourself to finally issue a reply.

You're mean

Dean audibly chuckles. Sam inspects him and scowls, "Dean, are you even doing your research? We really need to work on this - we're leaving tomorrow."

The eldest Winchester trains his expression back to utter seriousness, "Y'gonna wring my neck for taking a break?"

"This is important-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean dismisses, zoning back in on his own laptop and ignoring his glaring brother. You ease slightly now that the heat is pushed to Dean. But, the texts don't stop. Dean assumes a stronger façade, steeling his poker face.

You like it, though. I don't think you understand how wet you get when I'm a little mean. You love being my perfect slut. I wish you knew how tight you feel when I call you a whore.

The answer was evident in your sex. Your walls flutter around the emptiness in your neglected pussy, longing for a proper filling. Lust glazes your eyes as you glance up at Dean, finding him smirking knowingly at you. Fuck him. He knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Dean, I'm sending you some articles. These are from the Lousiville in Ohio - those deaths look pretty similar."

Sam's words fall on deaf ears. After a few moments, Dean finally opens the links his brother sent him, giving you a bit of a break from his relentless texts.

You direct your attention back to your laptop and ogle at the screen. The thoughts Dean planted in your mind run a rough course, battering you with each thrust and moan that could be happening if you and Dean were alone.

Assuming Dean's read the articles, you stare at his next text, heat rumbling in your gut.

Would you be a good cumslut? Would you take my cock like a needy little whore?

He needs an answer. Dean needs to know that his words are taking effect, and he wants to hear it from you - how eager you are.

You reply, I would. I'll be a good girl.

Because you know what I do with brats, right? Dean's reply shudders through your core.

This time, you don't reply. Ultimately, his question is rhetorical and answered immediately in your subconscious. Any sort of bratty behavior is quickly corrected by either Dean's punishment, or a complete denial of any stimulation until you were begging for Dean's forgiveness. You'd spent countless times on your knees, in front of Dean's cock, begging for him to absolve you, and fuck you senseless.

If you're good, I'll give you what you want. How does it feel when my cum is deep inside of you?

The drenched fabric of your panties rubs against your slick folds. You adjust your sitting position, sitting up to let yourself open onto the material of your underwear. Ever so slightly, you grind yourself in your seat, watching Sam intently out of the corner of your eye, hoping he won't notice the feeble attempt to get yourself off.

The reply is short, It feels good, sir.

Dean clears his throat, and pretends to open a web browser.

I know, sweetheart. Feels good to keep me in your sweet pussy, keeping all of my cum for yourself. It feels so good to breed your cunt.

A deeper strain aches at your arms, urging yourself to take your own break to relieve yourself in the bathroom. Dean can see you squirm in your chair, and intentionally avoid his stare.

He texts you again, trying to earn a visible response to his taunts.

After I'm done, I would hold your legs open and watch my cum leak out of you. One of these days, I want to see how many times I can do it in a day. You'd be messy all day long.

You envision it yourself - the foreign image of white, warm ropes of Dean's cum spilling out of your stretched cunt and onto the floor below, wasted. Tightness pulls your abdomen taught as you think about being bred for an entire day, all to Dean's satisfaction. Your pussy clamps down onto nothing, yet again, at the sheer thought of it.

"I'll send you the same articles I sent to Dean. Let me know what you think," Sam is honing in on you this time. You nod and keep an eye out for the incoming links, and click on them. Eyeing them intentionally, you try to shove aside the persistent fantasies from taking over your senses.

Another text pops up on your screen.

It would be a lazy day. In the morning I would fuck you slow, giving you your first load of the day. We'd make lunch. You'd still be sore, but not as sore as you'd be after we eat.

Your mind travels elsewhere. The computer screen fades out of your attention as your eyes glaze over again.

I would fuck you on the kitchen table. You'd pull your panties up right after I was done and sit in my cum for hours, waiting for more. I wouldn't let you take those panties off. You wouldn't waste anything I gave you.

He was exactly right. It didn't matter how many times Dean had spilled himself into you, you relished the feeling of his cum buried deep inside of your pussy, precisely where it should be.

You want to touch yourself, don't you, sweetheart?

Your fingers twitch at the screen, as if they want to follow Dean's question to provide him a swift answer.

I want you to fuck me.

Dean's smirk grows. Your breath grows strained as he replies.

Needy little slut.

It would've been your undoing if it weren't for Sam's company. You throw a pitiful look toward Dean, but it goes ignored.

You'd let me take you anywhere in this bunker, wouldn't you? I could fill you up in every room of this place.

You reeled over the number of room's in the bunker, listing them off until you lost count. The slick between your folds soaks your panties further as you writhe gently in your chair.

I know you will. You would love knowing that I've stuffed your cunt in every room. And no one else would know, but we would. It would give you plenty to think about.

The mere idea of it gave you more than enough to go off of. How Sam hasn't realized that something's amiss, you don't understand, but are silently thankful that he can't see your unraveling. Dean, however, cannot focus on anything else. The strain of his cock against his jeans is bordering on discomfort, but he intends to keep you under his spell.

He lowers a hand to his lap and slightly grazes the growing bulge. Dean seems to have teased himself just as much as he did you - all thoughts of research dissolved in the presence of his new fantasies.

I'll bet you $10 that Sam is gonna run an errand after this. We should see how well we can use the free time.

A new tension tightens in your tummy. There would be no telling how long Sam would be occupied for, but Dean didn't see any qualms.

Yes, but maybe not in the main hall, for everyone to see us?

Your compromise is accepted. Dean nods slightly across from you, still staring at his laptop screen, then glancing to his phone.

Prude.

Under the table, you kick Dean's shin. He yelps at the new pain in his leg, earning a confused look from his brother. Sam looks between the two of you quizzically.

"Do y'all need a room to yourselves, or something?"

Dean smiles at his brother, avoiding your new glare, "No, no, we're fine. Aren't we, baby?"

The glare doesn't let up, but you don't reveal the truth of your texts with Dean. You look to Sam and jab a thumb toward his brother.

"He's being a dick, can you punch him for me?"

Without question, Sam delivers a firm punch to Dean's arm. Dean's shocked frustration is met with a devilish smirk from you, satisfied that you're now blameless. A moment after the brotherly bickering, a new text lights up your phone.

You're mean

You giggle at the screen and send him a final reply, letting him sit with the thoughts he'd poured into both of your heads.

I know. But, you like it.

Hey everyone! If you enjoyed, please help support my writing by reblogging!

Apologies that this took so long. I appreciate all of your kind messages as I balance how busy life has been lately. Thank you for all of your love and support! Happy reading!

-Bunny

#supernatural #bunny writes #kinktober #dean winchester smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #spn smut #spnfandom #spn #fanfiction

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hoshiina · 2 months

Text

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: hiii idk if u take these kinds of requests but id like to see jealous reader (preferably if reader and hoshina are already in an established relationship and reader works in a different division, meaning they dont get to see each other much) like maybe he’s used to calling okonogi “my dear” and its the first reader heard him call anyone with a pet name like that and she starts to overthink and gets pouty/ sulky and hoshina doesnt notice it at first but when he does he starts teasing her which doesnt help HAHAHAHA if its ok can it be hurt/ comfort and end in fluff & HELLO!! can i request an angst to fluff with hoshina where reader thinks he likes okonogi more than him especially since he is against revealing him n reader’s relationship to the third division (for other reasons of course). hopefully this isnt too specific!! i hope u have a wonderful day:))

notes: hoshina calls the reader “darling”, hurt comfort, him accepting jealousy a valid emotion (very important to me i fear), so sorry i merged the reqs!! i hope this was satisfactory for both TY FOR THE REQ!, this is a twt thread i thought about while writing this, (l/n) mention in the bonus part

wc: 1400

Oh, you hated when this happened. You hated when your heart started to tighten in this horrible way you knew well. You hated being jealous.

You hated how self centered it made you feel and how it ate away at your thoughts and feelings. It made you feel like your good thoughts were disintegrating to horrible ones. However, what you hated even more was how it meant you were doubting his love for you— and that was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn't want to doubt him, nor did you doubt him, but when the jealousy got to your head it was over. You were stuck in a loop.

To top it off, the cause of this all was truly harmless and hardly that big of a deal, but that's usually how most anxious thoughts start. They start little.

You were called to visit the 3rd Division to help with research on a field you were particularly knowledgeable on, and you happened to hear Hoshina's laughter from the operation room, so you went in to take a peek.

“It was not that funny,” Okonogi was saying to him, but Hoshina only continued to laugh.

“Yes, it definitely was,” he laughed. “I knew Kafka would forget about that hole in the training grounds again.”

“Why don't you remind him, then?”

“Comedic relief, of course.”

“Alright then.”

“Okonogi dear, you're no fun,” he said.

They said a few more things, but you couldn't seem to focus on their words. ‘Dear’? Was that merely a simple pet name? Or was there more to them than you initially expected?

Oh, the worries started to fill your head. And they were things you didn't want to be worried about— Okonogi was always so sweet to you when you popped by and you knew Hoshina loved you. The last thing you wished to do was doubt them, nor did you want to make things awkward around them. There were just so many things that you just didn't know about, being in a different division as him. You doubted they even knew you were dating, and the voice in your head would only get louder.

It was then that Hoshina saw you at the doorway and called over to you.

“Are you done with work?” he asked, his voice excited and hopeful. Your heart stung.

“Not quite yet,” you tried to sound disappointed, but for the right reason. “I’ll get going now.”

You walked away from the room as quickly as you could, seemingly naturally. You didn't want to be there and you didn't want to talk to him before calming down first— you were sure you'd say something silly if you spoke now.

Yet, immediately you heard footsteps behind you and a hand you knew well grab yours.

“Soushirou?” you asked, turning to look behind you.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and visible concern in his eyes. “Do you feel unwell?”

Pang in your chest again.

“Not at all, nothing's wrong?” you said, but you could see the way he pursued his lips— the hurt in his eyes from how you wouldn't tell him what was troubling you. Gosh, why did you feel this way? Why must you feel much silly emotions.

“It's truly so stupid,” you said. “I'll tell you another time.”

“Alright,” he said, letting go of your hand. That one was your bad— you knew he wouldn't push you any further, even if he wanted to.

Dinner that night was awkward. You weren't even that jealous, but the fact that you felt something was gnawing at your brain upset you. Not to mention the fact that you were keeping something from him made you feel even worse.

“How was your training?” you asked.

“Alright, I suppose,” he said. There was a horrible moment of silence. You weren’t sure what to say.

“I think I’m getting a hang of this new technique,” he finally continued, but you wouldn’t look up at him— you were afraid he wouldn’t look your way.

“I see,” you said. “That’s really cool… I’d like to see someday.”

“I’ll show you as soon as its better,” he said.

The rest of dinner felt… quiet. The two of you still talked throughout it but it was terribly different from the usual lively catch-up you’d have— it was heart-wrenching quite frankly.

So as you’d imagine, going to sleep was even worse. You subconsciously faced away from him and pretended to fall asleep quickly, hoping he’d sleep soon too. You hated what was going on, but you just couldn’t bring this up. You knew it was silly and you knew you’d forget soon enough. You’d probably regret making such a big deal out of it.

“Darling,” he said, and immediately you turned to face him. He was already facing you. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it… I’m sorry I pushed you.”

Gosh, you thought. You gulped. You wished he wasn’t so kind.

“You’re going to think I’m so annoying though,” you said, voice cracking in a way you didn’t wish for it to and immediately his eyes widened.

“Darling, what happened?” he asked, suddenly worried. “You could never be annoying to me.”

“I… heard you…” you started and he just listened— he waited. “I heard you calling Okonogi, ‘dear.’ And suddenly I—”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, without hesitation. “I hadn’t even realized I did that, it was completely by habit. I won’t anymore.”

You finally met his eyes and the way he looked so horrified he had made you feel bad was so prominent in his eyes.

“No, Soushirou,” you said. “I didn’t mean for you to have to change anything— I know so well that both of you are so sweet to me and there’s nothing going on. I just—”

“Darling, calm down,” he said, cutting you off. “You’ve done nothing wrong, why are you beating yourself up? This was my bad and that’s about it. None of this is you.”

“I—,” you said, taking a moment to collect yourself. “I hate to be jealous, Soushirou. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” he asked and you paused to look up at him, utterly confused.

“Why?” he asked again.

“It’s such an… ugly feeling,” you said.

“Is it?”

“Is it… not?”

“What’s wrong with being jealous?”

“Because it’s like I’m doubting you or something… when I don’t at all.”

“I think that’s a different thing entirely, no?” he asked. “You can know in your head that I’m in love with you and still feel something else— they’re not always the same. A little jealousy is perfectly healthy, I think.”

“Oh…” you said. You wanted to say so much more but there was so much to process first. Your heart swelled with such warmth.

“I get jealous too. I hate when Narumi gets too close to you or bothers you when I’m not around,” he continued on. “But in my head I know you’d never do anything to hurt me and you’d stop him if he crosses a line. I’ll try to stop if that bothers you though.”

“No,” you said. “That sounds… nice. I’m rather… happy… you were a jealous actually. But I’ll make sure to keep some more distance between Captain Narumi next time.”

He laughed. “Sounds good. But you tell me if there’s anything more that bothers you okay. I’ll fix myself up.”

“I will,” you said and he kissed your forehead. “But Soushirou, I don’t mind much anymore. You can stay the way you are.”

“No, no, stop overthinking. You need to sleep now, you have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Yeah. You too Sou,” you said and he hummed.

Once you were certain he was asleep, you kissed his cheek and slipped your hand into his. You liked holding his hand when you fell asleep, but you weren’t sure if it made it harder for him to fall asleep.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him. “You mean the world to me.”

You lightly kissed his cheek, careful not to wake him up, but to your surprised he smiled. He squeezed your hand and without opening his eyes, “You missed,” he said.

He kissed you on the lips and you laughed, snuggling up against him. “You were awake.”

“I was waiting for you to hold my hand,” he said. “I like when we hold hands when we sleep.”

BONUS:

From then on, Hoshina stopped calling Okonogi “dear” as much, and it’d only happen when it truly slipped out of him from force of habit.

“Vice-Captain, you’ve started dating (l/n), haven’t you?” she said to him one day while they were sorting through files.

“How... did you know?” he asked. The two of you had been dating for quite a while now, but he was more surprised she guessed you correctly.

“It’s terribly obvious you’re completely in love,” she said.

He blinked. And then he laughed.

He’d have to ask you that night if he can share the news with everyone, properly, then.

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yuri-is-online · 2 months

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Ok so jadeyuu! Jadeyuu? Jade is an eel. Jade has never been in a relationship- never even got the urge. So he's kinda panicking when he finally snaps out of his little domestic daydreams only to realize. He has no idea how to actually get to those daydreams.

How do humans court? Fuck humans for a second how does his own species court??? He only know surface level (ha) shit he never paid attention beyond that cause it was "irrelevant" (he wants to go back in time and punch himself so bad. For several reasons).

So now he's trying to figure it out but heres the thing, he only has super cheesy media to work with. Bro is taking it so seriously but some of the stuff is just???

Why is sharing clothing so important?

Are flowers really that big of a deal?

Why do all these couple fight all the time? He doesn't want to fight with yuu he just wants to feed them mushroom dishes and cuddle and "cuddle" He doesn't want to fight! Why do couple always fight in these movies is it necessary?? Is it a love language??

What's a one night stand?

WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? WITH SOMEONE YOU JUST MET???

... has yuu had any? They told him once that most of their past relationships were "situationships" and he had to laugh and pretend he wasn't about to simultaneously raise hell and profusely thank your exes for fumbling so hard.

What's this about your father's consent? Does he need to get your father's consent? Would any parent work or just your father? Do you even like your father- shit you haven't even seen your father since you've been here and he's a literal world away. ....shit.

Someone stop him he's about to create an entire world wide scheme to invent otherworldly communication just to ask his not-parners dad if he can even court them in the first place-

Oh it's not that important in modern day?? Oh. Thank goodness.

At what point in this can he ask you to be his officially?

At what point can he start indulging himself in all his somewhat ugly jealous urges in public without scaring you off?

Would it be considered a "red flag" to ask you to only talk to him? He knows it is he's just holding out hope that maybe you'll agree to be kept in a large terrarium of his and be completely his and-

You would never agree to that. Oh well, an eel can dream. If Ace gets all clingy with you again he's going to break his arm off.

How long does he have to wait until he can show you to list of names he's already thought about giving your future children?

CAN HE PLEASE JUST HOLD YOU??? PLEASE!!!

Idk where I'm going with this I just got the mental image of jade watching titanic (something something convenient potion accident) and hurriedly scribbling down notes every time something romantic happens and I wanted to share that image.

I like the idea of Jade doing research about human courtship. I really really like it I think it's so stupidly funny to picture Mr. Suave, one hell of an eel butler reading human x merfolk fanfiction and going O: that's me (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) Or watching romcoms and taking notes that's hilarious. He watches titanic and nods "yes this would never happen with us, I would simply drag them into the sea and then we would live together happily ever after while everyone else drowns- ah or is that too fatalistic?"

But yes he doesn't know much about courtship in general. He can "flirt" but its not intentional on his part, he's just being snarky. But with you he has no idea what to do. The clothing thing makes no sense to him, is it to stake a claim? Then why not bite you? That would get the point across faster... is it a him thing to want to do that or is it a mer thing? One night stands are too complicated, there's too many ways for that to go wrong the only reason Jade could think to have one is if someone has information you want to steal and he's not interested in obtaining things that way. They don't owe you anything that way.

Jade with soft yan! urges he tries to tamp down because he knows they're not healthy but he just wants to protect you form the dangerous that exist in the coral sea. Even if you become a merfolk you still used to be human, soft, fragile, and so naive... really there's no end to the things that could steal you away from him. Like Ace! Now if you could please look the other way while he disposes of this pest- he jests. He would never rob you of your friends, everyone needs them and he needs you to need him the same way humans need air.

Also the sheer irony of Yuu complaining all of their past relationships being situationships when that's what they have going on with Jade right at that very moment. Maybe that was intentional huh Jade ever think of that? Maybe the pretty human was huffing at you and batting their eyes because they are frustrated that history is repeating itself and the sketchy guy their friends don't approve of is being unclear about his feelings again. He figures that out once he finally finds out the definition and he feels so so stupid

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu #jadeyuu

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theboombutton · 4 months

Text

Ok so Alex was the main writer for this casement, and obviously he knew we would latch on to incidental characters that seem a lot like Jon and Martin.

The questions I have are: first, whether it was a prank on TMA fans; and second, if it's not a prank, what he intended to convey by including them. Alex doesn't seem like the kind of guy to leave jmart fan service for its own sake; if those are truly alternate Jon and Martin, I suspect they're there for a story or setting reason.

Was it a prank?

I'm inclined to answer no. Darrien didn't just describe them, he wondered aloud while recounting his story if what happened to him also happened to them. That's not out of the question for prank red-string-bait, but the more you harp on incidental characters that seem like Jon and Martin, the more plausible it becomes that they are. People red-stringing over things that the author draws a circle around and writes "look at this!" next to isn't funny - it's just analysis.

Prank is still on the table, but it's not my preferred explanation.

If they are alternate Jon & Martin, what does their presence here imply?

One thing it probably implies is that we're dealing with more than one alternate universe here.

So far we've only had evidence of two: the Protocolverse, and Celia's home universe. We're reasonably sure that Celia's home universe is the Archiverse, because the character voiced by Lowri in TMA only took the name Celia after she lost her memories in the Eyepocalypse. And if Darrien comes from a universe where Martin worked reception at a therapist's office and Jon was a client, then he didn't come from the Archiverse. He came through from another, until-now-unknown-to-us universe.

Wild speculation ahead

Turn back now if you only want thoughts that are well-evidenced

There's also another possibility we could stack on top of the implication of a third universe. This is primarily supported by Doylist reasoning, rather than in-universe evidence.

Alex wrote ?Jon and ?Martin in close proximity to Darrien's universe shift. He brought attention to the fact that Darrien didn't recognize either of them - ?Martin being a new hire, and ?Jon being a new-enough face to be worth pondering. This would imply it was fairly likely ?Jon and ?Martin's first meeting - likely even their first time being in a room together. And Alex, through Darrien, further invited us to wonder if ?Jon and ?Martin had been pulled across universes as well.

Is it possible that the universe shift happened because of Therapyverse's Jon and Martin being in close proximity at the time?

Jon and Martin are apparently cosmically important in at least the Protocolverse, given that they manifested as two of FR3-D1's voices. What if something in the Protocolverse is pulling in Jons and Martins from other universes? It might be easier or more efficient to find or to pull them when they cross paths, and Darrien just got schlurped up with them this time.

Who would be interested in collecting alternate Jons and Martins? I can think of a few possibilities:

The Fears. They've got Jon and Martin reading case files, maybe they need more Jon & Martin to make FR3-D1 go.

The OIAR. Lena said some entities are benevolent, most aren't, and they're trying to maintain a balance. If Jon and Martin are their "benevolent entities," then maybe they think pulling additional copies into their universe's fear-space strengthens them. Maybe they're even right.

The Magnus Institute itself. It was still around at the time of Darrien's shift, given that the case is from the Institute's files. Jonah Magnus may have figured out (or found out) that Jon and Martin had something to do with his ascension in another universe, and started abducting alternate versions of them as part of his research.

Maybe Chester and Norris started talking a year ago because someone or something finally pulled enough Jons and Martins (and J2s?) into an extradimensional JMalgamation to give them the necessary power.

Maybe Darrien got spat out practically starved to death because he couldn't feed on fear, nor were there versions of himself that could that he could amalgamate with.

And who the fuck is the second J?

#tmagp spoilers #tmagp 17 #tma spoilers #tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp speculation #tmagp theory #tmagp theories

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writervaul-t · 2 months

Text

something about you

chapter three: friends?

summary: the start of fake dating is going well but [name] thinks they should go further.

pairing: modern!benjicot blackwood x f!reader

note: definitely filler chapter vibes but this is important to the plot i promise babes 🤞😫

masterlist | playlist

If looks could kill, [Name] would surely be dead. Since her lecture started 2 hours ago, she could feel someone staring at her. She did her best to figure out who it could have been but the lecture hall stretched too far to the point that people on the other side were essentially too small for her to see if they were even looking across the way.

She should have gotten used to this by now but she still wasn't. It had been days since her and Benji started "dating" and going out in front of the public. They had developed a routine; he would pick her up after work and her night lectures since he didn't have class around those times and take her to wherever she needed to be for that day and then walked off.

It seemed to have been fooling everyone. From the amount of people that would come up to her and pester her about what they were and how they even got together ("Do you think they'd buy into the idea you asked me out at the store?"/"Definitely."), they had managed to get everyone to think they were an item. Regardless, the treatment of being near invisible to being known by name had made her a little unnerved.

She did her best to seem unbothered by the newfound attention, the boring drolls from her Research Methods professor an open distraction. She focused on the class, making sure to note what confused her and that she had to review after she gets home today.

When the class had finally finished, [Name] had walked texted Benji quickly that she would take longer to go out before walking down to talk briefly about an assignment with the professor. It was a simple question but per usual, it had almost turned into a mini lecture where he had to explain his answer from the beginning. She could have fallen sleep there, had she not heard someone call Benji's name.

She glanced back, spotting Benji waiting from inside the classroom. He stood by the door with a crowd of people, talking animatedly. He must have made a joke when some people had laughed so loud, it echoed through the chamber. An easy going smile was on his face, though [Name] can tell it was more practiced than anything.

He looked down to where [Name] stood with the professor. An amused look crossed his face as he spotted the professor before pointing at the seat closest to him and waving to the crowd as they left before going on his phone. [Name] continued to nod along with the professor before finally feeling relief when he ended the conversation.

She had practically ran up the stairs, meeting Benji's gaze and smacking his shoulder lightly as they walked out. "Don't laugh."

"Why? Its funny watching someone practically nap standing up." Benji says, grabbing her bag off her shoulder. He looked ridiculous; the pinkand cream backpack contrasting greatly against his dark attire. [Name] had told him multiple times he didn't have to grab it from her, but Benji insisted.

"I'd do it for my real girlfriend so I'll do it for you." He argued again and again.

"Professor Dondarrion is such a bore." [Name] grumbles as they make their way outside. "All I asked was how to run a function on the system and he went all the went on and on about something else!"

"Yeah, that's why you get rid of Research Methods during your first year," Benji advises, grabbing her hand and lacing their fingers together. She could feel the cold metal of his bracelet pressing against her skin as they walked. "Professor Martell is only available to first and final years here but makes the class interesting. Not to mention she's hot--"

"Nice way to remind me you're still just a man." [Name] countered, though she was more amused than anything else. Most of their walks together always consisted of Benji cracking some kind of crude joke that made [Name] cringe or laugh before they would run out of things to say and walk in silence together.

The first few days were nearly unbearable; the awkward silence and the fear of saying something offputting was enough to keep [Name] from doing or saying anything too damaging. Benji had been the first to break the tension when he had slipped on the wet pavement by her apartment. She wasn't sure she had laughed as hard as she did that day.

Still, some things felt missing but she hadn't had the chance to bring it up or was even sure if she wanted to bring it up. She was definitely sure Benji knew too; after all, he was a lot more perceptive than he led himself to be. Maybe he didn't know how to bring it up either. Regardless, if they felt something was off, they need to address it before it goes too far.

She tugged Benji's hand when they reached the crosswalk, directing themselves to the opposite way of either of their apartments. "Let's go somewhere before we head home." She only offers up. Benji goes along with it, letting her lead him to one of the overnight diners, King's Harbor.

Benji eyed the restaurant suspiciously. "Don't loonies only come in here?"

"Yes, you're looking at one right now." [Name] jokes quietly as she pulls him in. The diner was small, the inside seemingly taking them back into the 60s with the signature red and white leather chairs and a jukebox that hadn't worked in ages. Old posters of movies [Name] couldn't recognize besides Rosemary's Baby hung around in places where LED lights weren't swirling about along the walls.

"What a sight to see!" Yelena Hull calls out from behind the counter. "You're usually here past midnight, dove."

[Name] smiled. "Ah, well, I wanted to take my - ah..." She glanced at Benji sheepishly. "Benji to the diner."

"I'm her boyfriend." Benji states matter of factly, earning an elbow to the stomach by [Name]. He gave her an innocent look. "What? I am."

Yelena looks over at Benji, a smile breaking out of her face before turning to [Name]. "Well, lets get you and your Benji a seat!" She ushered the two to a corner table, just below the Rosemary's Baby movie poster. "Your favorite seat. And first good luck!"

Yelena sent a wink toward [Name], who covered her face in embarrassment as she walked away. "You'll have to excuse Yelena; I'm probably one of the only ones at the diner that doesn't disrupt her graveyard shifts."

"Why do you come here past midnight?" Benji asks.

[Name] motioned to her backpack. "To study. I can't really focus if my bed is a couple of feet away, you know?"

Benji gives [Name] a long look for a moment. "Do you just... Study and work?"

"Most times," [Name] admits. "But that's not why I brought you here. I know this little... Agreement we made is a little strange and we definitely didn't really start off on any proper footing so I guess I just wanted to, I don't know--?"

"Get to know each other more?" Benji suggests, making [Name] nod.

"Yeah - nothing too deep. Just simple stuff like favorite color but I think that's kind of obvious." She eyes his dark blue linen shirt and black pants before darting to her clothes - from her pink sweater to pink ribbons pinning some of her hair away. "But you know what I mean - we get to at least talk about something while we pretend to date."

"You're not wrong. Though not sure I want to hear about what you learned in class today." Benji says.

"I don't talk about class every day!" [Name] says back, throwing a balled up piece of straw cover between his brows.

Benji huffs, "Ha! Liar. You always talk about classes with me whenever I take you home. I swear, I know about your information science classes more than my own business classes."

"Because I had nothing else to talk about." [Name] counters. "Which is why--"

"We're here. I get it. But I still doubt you do anything fun."

The notion made [Name] glare at Benji, who only offered a smirk in response. When he'd gotten comfortable enough with her, he had ended up some weird mix of the Benji's she's seen: friendly and a provoker if he was in the mood.

[Name] rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know that I don't just study. I have actual hobbies."

Benji leaned into the table, a grin on his face. "Yeah? Like what?"

"I collect Peach Riots when I get the chance, go to the Kingsroad Market every Saturday and find a new recipe to eat while I watch horror movies--"

"Horror movies, huh?" Benji asks, glancing at the poster beside them. "And does that involve anyone?"

Chiara had only ever watched with [Name] if she was worn down long enough by the latter. It had taken her nearly a month and a promise to take the trash out that same month to convince her roommate to watch the Halloween series.

"Usually just me if Chiara can't or won't do that with me." She answers truthfully. "Your turn."

"I like hanging out with my friends." Benji starts, pausing a moment to think. "We go the bars and clubs around here often and sometimes go on weekends trips. Most times, though, we go to the beach just a couple miles from campus and have a campfire. Its only a couple of us but they make it really fun."

He seemed content when he spoke about his friends. Chiara hadn't been joking when she mentioned only sticking to a few people. [Name] wasn't even sure she saw him with them when they were just walking around campus, save for the Tully brothers who always made sure to make their friendship with Benji be known.

It made her wonder what it would be like to have a friend besides Chiara. [Name]'s first year had consisted of her constantly working shifts if it wasn't during the days she was on campus. Not to mention, CIC's small and elite population had her at a disadvantage since cliques and friend groups were already formed.

"Sounds nice." [Name] says to him, glad he was receptive to her impromptu change in their routine. Faintly, she checked the watch on her phone. "Am I holding you back, by the way?"

Benji shakes his head. "Nah. I got nothing tonight. Now, about those horror movies: what's your thoughts on that Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake?"

"Oh my god, do you have all night?"

The rest of the evening had been just that; movie hot takes and soon figuring out that both of them having an affinity for spicy food, even if Benji's mouth is burning a thousand degrees. By the time they had left the diner, they both had nearly everything to say and the walk felt shorter for [Name], which disappointed her greatly since they had gotten into the topic of Aeron Bracken's unusually inflated ego and how Benji went by his middle name "Davos" during Year 5 to 7 before dropping it because too many people were confused if Benjicot and Davos were the same people or not.

The night ended on a good note. [Name] had been more than eager to see Benji again soon instead of dreading trying to figure out what to say to him during their walks. Momentarily, she reminded herself about their agreed conditions and Benji's question from when they first spoke.

"We can't even be friends?"

Had they become friends? [Name] wonders to herself as she settled into bed that same night. For a moment she wants to push against it; making new friends outside of high school was tricky. Regardless, she felt a sense of calm and ease around him that she hadn't felt with many people here.

She pushes the panicked thought back as she closes her eyes, wondering just how interesting the next coming weeks will be now that Benjicot Blackwood seemingly found a way into her mundane routine.

taglist

@not-a-glad-gladiator @opheliaas-stuff @sahvlren @nikki-is-a-nerd @weird-things-i-think-about @cxcilla @anakilusmos @haydee5010 @waystarkia @newestobsessionishere @herejhsttostan @hardkiddonut @aisselasstuff @rebeccawinters @aemondsb1tch @radiantdanvers @northofvalyria

#benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #benjicot blackwood fic #davos blackwood fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd fic

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fatuismooches · 3 months

Note

wanderer saying that [name] is dottores "little pet" is so funny to me bc if you think about its the other way around

like he would actually do anything for you, with complaining some most times but yk

like a segment could be researching and they walk in, he turns into a damn puppy and just starts focusing on them while not really looking at what hes doing

you are really special, its not often any version of dottore lets go of their focus when experimenting

luv ya

Many people marvel at your ability to have the Doctor in the palm of your hand, but to you, who has been with him for so long, don't think much of it. Every time an agent or another Harbinger brings up how powerful you must be to have the segments so attentive toward you, you kind of just smile and shrug it off. Because it's just very normal to you but also extremely abnormal to others. You do suppose it's a bit jarring for others to see a segment that had worked for twenty seven hours straight, refusing to be bothered by anything, suddenly perk up and drag you in for some much-needed recharge (and then go back to work.) It's no wonder rule fifteen in the handbook is to retrieve you if a certain segment is acting out (Webby.)

But his behavior also gives you a bit of an ego boost for obvious reasons, I mean, who wouldn't get a bit puffed up having such a man at your beck and call? Of course, the segments don't do this much when others are around, because they will not be the subject of gossip for the agents and the Damselette, but well, they're not always successful. They have a very specific image to uphold - they can't be seen with you squishing and kissing their cheeks. However, it's not like anyone will have the gall to comment on you feeding him your latest sweet creation.

You don't really care about people who think otherwise or have their own misconstrued version of your relationship, they can talk all they want. In fact, some of the stories are so wild it makes you laugh, and you share them with Dottore, detailing how evil and heinous he is to keep you trapped with him. But really, all that matters to you is the love you have for each other, that no one else needs to understand.

#smooches talks #luv ya anon #dottore love notes <3 #the way this is so canon #unfortunately poor wanderer will never understand #also i have to admit i knew u were luv ya anon for a while bc once i was scrolling ur blog and realized u frequently #ended ur posts with luv ya

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deanscherrypie420 · 3 months

Text

𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

A/N: Hi guys! I promised another Sam fic so HERE WE ARE! This idea was originally for Dean, but I figured it would work for Sammy too. I tweaked it a little bit once I saw this GIF because OMG idk its just so cute. ENJOY <3

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader Y/N, Dean Winchester, Crowley

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Warnings: Demon!Reader, arguing, mild violence, guns, alcohol, biting, fluff, supernatural stuff, nerds, physical affection.

Summary: After the Winchester brothers barge into Crowley's lair, they meet you. You're already in a bad mood and they don't help. You can't help but notice the taller one, how attractive he is. After going to the bunker with them, you find yourself in an unexpected situation.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I have never once gotten myself in danger! Why won't you let me do this?" Y/N screamed at the man in front of her. Crowley was like a father to her. He took her in from the depths of hell when she was little, turning her into the little princess of hell.

"Hunters get hurt. They die, all the time. Is that really something you want for yourself?" He questioned, crossing his hands in his lap. He was staring down at her from his throne and this irked her. She didn't like being talked down to, especially not by Crowley. She was not going to be treated like one of his servants.

"You are ridiculous. I am more than capable of killing a few monsters. I'm a mini you, for hell's sake!" He just shook his head and sighed. "I said no, Y/N. Do not make me repeat myself."

Y/N felt her jaw tick, her eyes quickly flicking to black, a low red glow illuminating from the corners. She wasn't a normal demon. After being with Crowley, she evolved into a different being.

Her arm stuck out and she flung him across the room, earning a loud groan from not only him but two new men. She snapped her head around and walked backwards towards the throne, claiming her rightful seat upon it.

"Did we interrupt something?" The shorter one chuckled as he nudged Crowley with his foot. The older man grunted and pushed himself off the ground. "Get out, Winchesters. We are having a family discussion."

The taller one glanced over at you, and his brother hooted. "Wow, a new wife? This one's a little young, don't ya think?" Her eyes widened and she instinctively slammed him against the wall. "He is like my father, you indolent pig!"

"Right, my bad." He choked out and the giant stepped forward. "Let him go." He said as he pulled out a blade. She just laughed, looking over at Crowley. He gave her a nod and she huffed, releasing the man from her hold.

"Well, aren't you a bundle of sunshine." He scoffed as he brushed himself off. She glared at him and he put his hands up in defense, making the taller one laugh quietly.

"Look, Crowley, we need your help. Difficult demon hunt." He explained as his brother still tried to compose himself. Crowley shook his head, an amused look on his face. "Very funny, Sam. Run along, you two aren't getting help here."

"Actually, Sam, you might. What do you need help with?" Y/N announced quickly, rising from the seat and stepping forward. "Uh... Just with some research, I really don't think you-" Sam started but Crowley cut him off. "You aren't helping, Y/N. Go to the back room, now."

"What's your name?" She asked the shorter man, ignoring the king completely. "Dean. This is my brother." He grinned, growing a liking to the young woman. Sam cleared his throat and looked down at her, "I would listen to your, uh, dad."

The older man nodded and gestured towards the doorway behind her. She shook her head and smiled up at him, an innocent look in her beautiful Y/E/C eyes. "I'm a big girl, Sam. He can't control me." She moved closer to him, standing nearly a foot away.

"He's the king of hell, the hell you mean he doesn't control you?" Dean questioned, disbelief mounting his features. She glanced over at him, her eyes morphing into dark pits enclosed by a ruby glow. "I'm the princess of hell. I have more power than you think, Winchester."

Sam stepped back, his brows furrowing as he lips flattened into a line. "Don't worry, I don't bite. I want to help." She blinked her eyes back to normal and grinned at the brothers.

"Y/N! What did I tell you!" Crowley shouted, using his powers to throw her to the floor. She hissed and got up, her eyes glowing brighter than they had before. "I swear to God, I will carve out your fucking eyes." She spat as she tossed him against a wall, her fingers closing tighter, slowly crushing his internal organs.

Sam rushed to her side and tried pulling her back, but she just kept going, slowly walking towards the king. When she reached him, her hand wrapped around his throat, a low growl escaping her. "I'm becoming a hunter, whether you like it or not."

Sam gripped her shoulder, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "He's not stopping you, let's go. You're alright." He soothed, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Her brain stuttered, her force relaxing as her eyes shifted. "Fine." She stated simply before letting go of Crowley completely and storming out of the building.

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They had stopped at a diner before heading home to the bunker, all of them chatting and story-telling. The waitress came by to take their orders and she looked Y/N up and down, a look of distaste forming across her face.

"Well, you have an interesting fashion choice." The older woman spoke. Y/N bit her tongue, trying to remind herself that this was a conservative town and her outfit was very provocative. "Thanks, Hun. Anyway, I'd like-" The woman cut her off and put a hand on her hip.

"I'm just saying, young lady. That is a very immodest outfit. If I didn't know better, I'd think you work on the streets." Her southern drawl only made Y/N more irritated. Dean tried holding back a laugh, his beer nearly shooting out of his mouth.

"And I think you belong in a nursing home. Don't worry, hell has great hosts. I'd like some fries, please." She punctuated her statement with a flash of her eyes, the action earning a quiet gasp from Sam and roar of laughter from his brother.

"C-coming right up." The waitress murmured before skittishly running off, retreating to the back of the diner. "Damn, little lady. Didn't know you were that feisty!" Dean teased and she rolled her eyes. "Didn't know you were that reckless." Sam muttered and she sighed.

"Sammy, we're fine. What is she gonna do, call a priest on me?" Dean snickered some more. "You should really be more careful - for your safety." Sam warned, his brows knitted together.

"Awh, you care about me!" She cooed, a sarcastic undertone lacing her words. "We only just met, Sammy. We aren't that committed yet."

He shook his head and stared her down, his eyes so full and bright. "Those are the cutest puppy dog eyes ever." She added before kissing his cheek and excusing herself to the bathroom.

"Sammy's got a girlfriend..." Dean whispered in a sing-song voice, causing Sam to kick him under the table.

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Sam was researching in the library, books sprawled out on the desk in front of him. He was fiddling with a pen in his hands, a concentrated look on his face as he jotted down a few things on a notepad.

"Whatcha writing, Sammy?" Y/N asked. She was sitting on a bar above him, the ceiling only a few feet away from her head. Her legs dangled mindlessly in the air as she studied him.

He raised a brow and looked up at her. "What are you doing up there, Princess?" He questioned back, slouching back a bit in his chair. "Watching you." She responded with a huge smile, her eyes glistening in the bunker light.

"Why don't you come down from there, yeah?" He offered, patting his thigh gently as an invitation. She giggled and bit her lip, leaning forward. Her hands slid beneath the cool metal and grasped the edge behind her.

She swung downwards, hanging there for a minute before dropping to the ground. "If you insist." She danced her way over, her hands meeting his shoulders as she crawled into his lap.

He chuckled and his hand began rubbing her back. She nestled her head underneath his chin and skimmed over the pages he was reviewing. Her legs were hunched up, knees level with his upper chest and feet planted on his other thigh.

His free hand gently wrapped around her ankle, his digits resting on the hem of her sock as his thumb traced random patterns on her skin.

She reached over and grabbed his beer bottle, taking a long drag and twirling it between her fingers. "That's mine." He mumbled into her hair, his hand moving from her leg, covering hers as he tried to reclaim the bottle.

"No. I want it." She retorted, trying to move the bottle away. He plugged the top of the bottle with his thumb so it didn't spill, tugging it away from her. "Well, you don't always get what you want."

She huffed and crossed her arms, her elbow digging into his stomach. "I got you." She bickered and he smiled. He set the bottle down on the table and pulled her closer, one arm hooked around her belly.

"I guess you're right, Princess."

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! This one was super fun to write <3 If you liked it, please follow, reblog and comment! All feedback is LOVED.

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