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#*drabbles
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What if Charlie calls Nanny!Reader mama? Lucifer's reaction?
A/n: I am dying! This is adorable 😩
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It's not like he meant to hear it, really he hated to listen in on yours and Charlies conversations but this one, this one nearly had him in tears. He never expected Charlie to say it but he couldn't blame her at all. She was very young when Lilith left and you were a constant in her life.
Yawning, Charlie rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked up at you. A little smile on her face as you tucked her into the bed. "Goodnight mommy."
Tensing for a moment, you blinked a few times then gave the girl a smile as you brushed a strand of her golden hair out of her face. "Goodnight to you too sweetheart."
Waiting until the little girl fell asleep, you took a deep breath in then wiped a tear away as you nearly slammed into a body standing near by. "Oh! Sir. I'm sorry." Tipping your head you gave him a weak smile as you brushed past him until he grasped your wrist gently.
"You didn't correct her...Charlie...you let her call you mother."
Letting out a weak laugh you adverted your gaze then took a deep breath. "I'll stop her next time, I wasn't thinking I-."
"No..." Lucifer paused then took a deep breath shaking his head as he brushed your cheek then took a step back. "No you...there is no need for that, I like it and it's...if it makes Charlie happy and if you are okay with it then please."
Nearly leaning into his touch, you smiled feeling warmth creep up your neck. "Okay...I will....goodnight sir."
Brushing past Lucifer, you gave him one last smile as you brushed past him then towards your room.
Watching you leave, Lucifer couldn't help but feel giddy, warm at hearing Charlie call you mommy. He felt the same way he realized the moment he fell in love for Lilith.
He loved you
"Shit."
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aakeysmash · 16 hours
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Another little soft mechanic!Sukuna drabble because I love him ;( gets literally a biiit suggestive but it’s not super smutty!
“I don’- thin’- she like- dat.”
You groggily turn around, woke up by your boyfriend’s mumbles. You didn’t really catch what he said, but you just want to sleep, so you don’t pay it no mind. You scoot further on your side of the bed and start to fall asleep again, when he gets back on saying random things.
“Range Rov’r… so small… wan’ marr- ‘her…“
“Sukuna, stop, I’m tired, I can’t sleep with you talking” you respond, giving him a delicate shake. He’s tired too, you know it, and that’s why he’s talking in his sleep: he only does that when he’s exhausted. For the last month he’s been working extra hours at the garage he owns, saying it’s because “you both deserve a great vacation this year”. When you asked why, he rolled his eyes and ignored you. The tips of his ears were red.
He whines, barely waking up. He slightly opens one eye, sees you far away from him on your shared bed and scowls. Lately you haven’t been together a lot, apart from the times you try to study in his office with your headphones on to not hear him curse like a sailor, or, well, like a mechanic. He wraps one of his arms around your naked waist and bumps your body against his own.
“Gotcha,” he hoarsely says. You chuckle lightly then try wiggling away to sleep again, but he doesn’t budge. The long hours he spends under the cars have given him the most amazing muscles you’ve ever seen, but those come with a lot of strength too.
You relax in his hold while he draws random patterns on your skin with his calloused hand. It’s summer, you’re both naked because he says he likes to feel your skin on his. The only time you complained about being sweaty he grinned and said he knew other ways to make you sweaty, so now you only bring out the topic when you want to get dicked down good and fast.
You reach around his body to place your hand on his back, head below his chin. You could kiss his neck if you’d pucker your lips a little, that’s how close you are. You’re starting to fall asleep again when he whispers in your ear something you don’t understand.
“What?” You ask softly.
“… lov’ ya,” he slurs, before beginning to snore a bit. You smile to yourself, getting impossibly closer to him and drifting off to sleep.
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lorelune · 11 hours
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(aventurine x reader /// continuation of this concept)
"explain to me," the good doctor demands, "why do you need my help?"
"because." you fumble around you're words. your lips feel cold. herta's space station, especially this deep in it's bowels, is an unpleasant place to have any conversation, let alone one that is also unpleasant. "i don't have time."
"and you assume i do?"
"partially?" you rub a hand over your cheek. "throw me a bone here, doctor."
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ratio has been sizing you up for the better part of half an hour, scrutinizing your intent in any way he can. you have been skillfully attempting to dodge most of those attempts, but veritas ratio is as diligent a man as he is intelligent. which is to say that he is not letting up until you divulge the truth.
you sigh.
"you will explain to me," he says outright, gaze piercing. "how one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers needs help with an algorithm that is far below both of our skill levels. it's insulting to both myself, and yourself."
you sigh again, deeper and harder, "i, once again, do not have time. i have the 'full time job' of handling aventurine's odds, and those calculations don't run like any other odds i've ever worked with, and he is a variable constantly in motion. i need help making this algorithm so i can have some assistance with my main job at hand."
the doctor scoffs, and walks a circle around you, "i'm sure he's just thrilled with the company."
"we— he manages."
more than. but, veritas doesn't need to know that. you're sure he'll figure it out eventually.
veritas tagged the briefcase on a nearby table. it's gleaming, with a discreet ipc logo embossed on the side. the sight of it makes you nauseous with anxiety.
"is this bribe from him?" he asks.
"no." you've stopped aventurine anytime he has tried to intervene and make things easier for you. he rarely listens, but your relationship with ratio and the guild make him somewhat neutral territory. "higher up."
"i assume diamond wouldn't bother to dirty her hands. so, jade?"
"yes."
dr. ratio, for the first time, seriously considers your offer. then scowls. "it would be a waste of my time."
you sigh. there was a 67.22% chance of this outcome. luckily, you have gamed out the conversation from here.
"so you can't?"
"you know i can."
then, you laugh, and shake your head. "yes, i do. sorry to tease. i'm quite tired."
"you should go find your gambler." veritas crosses his arms, looking sidelong at the briefcase.
"i will, eventually." you turn your back to veritas as you begin to leave the open atrium. the air is hollow and frigid. "i'll just ask some other intelligentsia guild members about the project first. i'm sure they'd be happy to help."
you only take a few steps before dr. ratio grabs your arm. his grip is far too strong.
(chance of failure to secure dr. veritas ratio's assistance: decreased by 31%.)
"don't bother them."
"someone needs to help." you turn back to look at him, expression schooled. "and if you won't, i'm very sure someone else will be happy to work beside 'one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers'. or, does such a title not truly apply considering i've been ousted from my previous position?"
he frowns, but before he can speak, you interrupt him. you haven't seen veritas since being tied down to your current post. you haven't let him have it. he deserves it, maybe.
"i heard from jade that i received a glowing recommendation from another well-respected scholar. apparently, the position was being considered for either one of us. somehow, with that recommendation, i drew the short end of the stick and now play handler for a man with a death wish and a statistically measurable chaos quotient that's ever-changing in multiples of three."
veritas's face is unmoving. unchanging. but you know you've struck something. it was to be him or you in this position. and you don't have the pride he does. you place your hand over top of his, posed to speak, to tear him apart—
a shrill ringtone shatters the tension. it's yours. you already know who it is.
you flip your phone open with one hand, still staring at ratio.
"hello," aventurine's voice beckons from the other side, smug and smooth. "where is my favorite, most brilliant mind hiding out? we're due to leave soon."
"sadly, with another one of your favorite, brilliant minds. i'll be finished up shortly and meet you at the docks."
"aw, did he not get onboard? that's quite the choice for him to be making. do you want me to give him a talking to you?"
"no, it's fine. i'm working something out."
"you sound upset."
"i'm tired." you rub at your eyes and break away from veritas with a yawn.
"you can nap on the ship. we have quite the journey."
"that we do. i'll see you in a bit?"
"see you there." you can hear the smirk in his voice.
sending you down to veritas alone was aventurine's gamble. one that is working out, predictably. never mind the damage your reputation will take after these next moments. you close the phone with a sigh and begin toward the grand elevator.
"veritas," you call his name. "i forgive you, for what it's worth. try not to do it again."
"i couldn't."
you laugh and shake your head as you ascend. by the time you arrive at the docks, the ipc's premier vessel is packed away and priming its engines. lights and sirens echo from it. aventurine's idles outside, waiting for you. he beams when he sees you.
"so," he whistles, guiding you with a hand on your lower back. you let him. "was the good doctor as prickly as ever?”
"if not more so" you admit. aventurine gestures with a sweeping hand to your shared quarters for the time being. there's a single bed, but you're used to this. you've come not to mind it. "i think i bruised his ego."
with a genuine laugh, “i don’t think that's possible."
"want to bet on that?" you ask.
your phone's text tone chimes and you shoot aventurine a sharp smile.
aventurine's odds are ridiculous. ever changing, constantly moving. none of your perceptions and calculations that are usually steadfast and unmoving can keep up with him. not with efficiency, anyways. it's exhausting work. however, the likelihoods of everything but aventurine? the predictions of a man like ratio?
easy. simple. you could do them in your sleep.
aventurine squishes against your side as you open your newest message.
[SENDER: Doctor Ratio <intelligentsia guild>]
> here is a first draft. forgo payment. i do not need to be in the stonehearts’ pocket.
[file attached: STONE ALGORITHM DRAFT 1.0.spqxxxiun.pqo]
aventurine laughs, muffling it against the side of your neck. his teeth are sharp and his breath is warm. it settles something in you. you lean into him and deflate, sliding down into your lap so your head is pillows there. a gloved hand cards through your hair.
"you're quite good at the game, when you choose to play." aventurine reminds you. he tells you this often.
"i know." you turn your face into his hand as the ship rumbles. "but it's your job."
aventurine pauses his pets, then thumbs over your lips. he looks sour, only for a moment, before resuming his motions, a bit rougher this time. you relish the feel of it, sinking into it.
"one of us has to, right?"
"right."
"and the other," he taps your lips. your sputter, indignant. "plays support."
"one of us has to." you remind him.
it's silent between the two of you as the ship whirs and bellows, taking off from herta's space station without reverie. onto your next destination, wherever aventurine is deigned to be needed, with you by his side, dutifully.
you press your face into his stomach, letting the smell of linen and his cologne envelope you.
neither of you have a choice to play this game. the cards are stacked, and you best not loose count from aventurine's side. you'll be damned if you do.
(there is a 98.769% chance that you are damned regardless.)
at least, at least, you have each other, you think as aventurine bundles you up closer, and you wrap yourself around him. you'll take that, for as long as it lasts.
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epiclamer · 1 day
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“I wish we could start over.” Civilian mumbled through tears, trying to earn themselves one more look from their hero ex-lover, but Villain saw right through them.
Protectively, they wrapped an arm around the crime-stopper’s deflated shoulders, before they retorted.
“You don’t deserve a second chance.”
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ikinremu · 2 days
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Pretty
Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader
-> Drabble <-
! Smut Warning !
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"C'mon, I think you can give me one more, yeah?" Remus's low voice hummed, curling his slender fingers in and out of your sopping cunt.
Your beyond sodden walls clenched around his digits as they pumped swiftly in and out, drawing you nearer and nearer to what was to be another of many orgasms.
"Pretty fuckin' pussy's squeezing my fingers."Remus
uttered, thumb stroking a pattern over the sensitive swell of your clit, bringing your back to a furthering arch.
"Rem.." Shallow breaths flooded from your lips, arousal writhing against his hand as he picked up his pace.
"I know, baby." He cooed, "Gonna look so pretty when you cum on my fingers, hm?”
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Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!
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renlyslittlerose · 18 hours
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Written for @bunnywan 🐰 Inspired by her undying loyalty to seeing obikin in pretty panties~
NSFW under the cut on account of two handsome Jedi humping each other in silk underwear.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“I should think not.”
“Not that I couldn’t have, you know, if I wanted to.”
“Anakin.”
“Because I could—”
“Darling.”
Obi-Wan held his hand out to Anakin as he relaxed further on to the couch. Anakin followed the length of his fingers down to his wrist, across the broad expanse of his chest and down along his stomach. And further still, following the trail of coarse hair that ran from naval to the banding of them.
A pair of ocean green silk underwear.
Anakin’s fists tightened just as Obi-Wan’s thick cock pulsed against the delicate confines of his chosen adornment. Anakin had picked it out when they’d gone shopping, the colour reminding him of an ocean they’d visited when Anakin was still Obi-Wan’s Padawan - sea moss and the light reflection of the green twin moons making the water look like lush undergrowth. Anakin had been captivated by the way the colour contrasted with Obi-Wan’s auburn hair, copper becoming richer, greys more stark.
And now the colour served to accentuate the paleness of his thighs and the curve of his cock.
A pool of precome stained the silk, and Anakin bit back a groan.
“Come here,” Obi-Wan said, his hand still hanging in offering.
Anakin took his hand and stepped forward, his own cock rubbing pleasantly against the silk panties Obi-Wan had picked for him. His were black and embroidered with red flowers that shifted and warped as Anakin’s length grew. Obi-Wan had said he’d look good in black and red in the middle of the shop, his forefinger and thumb rubbing the embroidery as he stared at Anakin with blown out pupils and cheeks already flush with excitement.
For a moment Anakin thought Obi-Wan was going to drag him into one of the changerooms and fuck him right then and there. But instead he squeezed Anakin through his trousers before heading to the check-out.
They had to wait a full week before Anakin dared to try his on, courage giving way to embarrassment. It wasn't until Obi-Wan convinced him it would be worth it, tongue wet along his throat and palm hot against his balls, that Anakin was finally convinced.
He found the restriction uncomfortable, the banding tight along his waist and against the swell of his ass, but Obi-Wan’s gaze stamped out any uncertainty he’d had.
This made Obi-Wan happy, and all Anakin ever wanted to do was please his Master.
Tangling their fingers together, Anakin locked eyes with Obi-Wan and hovered over his lap, knees dug into the plush cushions that shifted beneath their combined weight. Sucking back a trembling breath, Anakin kept their eyes locked as he sunk down and—
“Kriff,” Anakin mewled as their cocks pressed together.
The soft shift of the silk against the hot length of their cocks made Anakin’s thighs shake and his toes curls, and he squeezed down on Obi-Wan’s hand while the other gripped the side of his neck, thumb pressed into Obi-Wan’s frantic pulse point. Closing his eyes, he let out another whimper as Obi-Wan pushed up just as he ground down, their cocks pushed together messily, precome spilling out to stain the beautiful fabrics.
His balls pressed into the soft silk, tightening as he spilled another drop of seed into the expensive underwear while he humped against Obi-Wan, chasing the contradicting sensations of soft against hard, cool against heated, slick against rough. The couch creaked from their movements, the sound of it mixing with the gasps and moans as they got lost in their newfound obsession.
“Feels so good,” Anakin panted out, another pool spilling out as Obi-Wan dropped his hand and went to grip his hip, fingertips digging into the muscle and pressing the banding of his underwear against his skin.
“N-nothing quite like it,” Obi-Wan murmured, breath hot against Anakin’s collarbone. He thrust up, sliding his length along Anakin’s own, the silk now soiled with their seed and sweat. “A-almost came just seeing your pretty cock sheathed in your panties. It was obscene - you barely fit in them, you were already so hard.”
"N-not because of the underwear. Just because of you."
"There's no shame in liking the feel of silk against your skin," Obi-Wan murmured. Anakin felt his cheeks burn even more “In fact, I'm glad you’re enjoying this. I’d be disappointed if it d-didn’t please you as much as it pleases me.”
When Anakin opened his eyes again, he was greeted with the sight of Obi-Wan staring up at him with a delirious smile. Anakin stilled his hips a moment and brushed Obi-Wan’s bands from his forehead.
“E-everything you’d hoped?” Anakin asked.
“That and so much more,” Obi-Wan mumbled.
Cupping Anakin’s cheek, Obi-Wan brought him down for a deep kiss, swallowing up Anakin’s moan as the continued to grind their silk covered cocks together.
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Text
From Away 1
Warnings: this series will include dark elements which may include noncon or dubcon and other untagged triggers. Mind the warnings.
Summary: you apply for a job with a rather eccentric boss.
Character: Harald Halfdansson
Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️
Courtesy tag: @alicedopey
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For a country built forged in centuries, everything feels so sparkly and new to you. A new home, a new world, at least for a while. It is all so splendid and wonderful. And expensive.
So it is that you head off with a fold in hand and your purse bouncing against your hip. You have a job interview. A very interesting one though the commute promises more than enough time to prepare. Rather, to overthink.
You can’t complain. It sounds like an interesting opportunity. A dream job you couldn’t hope for back home. There weren’t any historical sites that popular to require excessive staff.
You stand at the stop just outside your building. You need to catch a connection at the downtown center and another in an area you’ve never been before. After that, there’s a bit of a walk but you could use a reason to exercise.
The bus pulls up and you smile at the driver as you scan your pass. You find a seat though it isn’t hard. Most are empty this early in the morning. You hug your bag in your lap and watch the streets pass by as the driver chugs along, stopping and starting until your reach the core of the old city.
You nearly miss your transfer and sit breathless on the second bus, measuring your heartbeat until it’s calm again. The close you get, the worse your nerves are. The last interview you had was for this very opportunity. Just to go on exchange, you had to sit in front of a panel and answer questions about why and how and so many things. You can do it, right?
The third bus takes you into the hills, lush green against the grey blue sky, some rocky peaks in the distance. The landscape here is rich and varying. Back home, you can find a similar spectrum of backdrops but the distance in between is vast.
Last stop on the route before it circles around and you get off with a thanks to the driver. You step onto the gravel apron of the back road and check your phone. You don’t have a signal up here but you have the directions saved. Just in case. You follow the steps up towards your destination. It’s not easy to miss as the old fortress stands sentinel at the top of the jutting incline.
Kastali Castle. A bit redundant upon translation; ‘Castle Castle’. In your research, you discovered that the fort was built on a millenial foundation of an old viking village, since updated over the centuries by warlords and kings, and burnt many times over by invaders. You shuffle through the history in your head, trying to sort the timeline as you approach the low stone barrier along the lower tier of the property.
The gate is open. On the other side, sheep graze lazily across the grass. You’ve learned since your arrival that the creatures have free reign of the countryside. They may eat and wander where they might. You stop to fawn at a younger lamb. The animals can be a bit ornery but they’re cute.
You turn back, looking up at the high foundations and carry on along the steep path. As you get to the large wooden door that would let you through the tall inner walls, you hesitate. You can’t just let yourself in but you don’t know where to go. You check your phone, thinking to call the number in the email but your bars are still empty.
“Invaders, ho!” A holler breaks the earthly hue and you step back to look up at where the voice erupted from. There’s a figure above you, so high you have to crane your neck painfully. You continue to back up until you can see the man above. “Are you lost, fair maiden? Or do you come upon a quest?”
You blink, nearly giggling at his flowery way of speaking. His accent lilts his words peculiarly.
“Um, I have an interview,” you yell back up, the effort making your throat thrum. You’re not much for raising your voice. “With, er,” you look down at your phone. You hadn’t saved the email.
“Harald,” he calls back down, “yes, he is expecting you.”
The man disappears and you stare up into the sky after him. You can hear creaking and cracking then silence. You lower your head and look straight ahead, waiting. The arched door opens with a long whine and the same man appears before you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he gives a crooked grin. His weathered skin is marked with blue black ink along one side of his face. A nordic symbol you can’t decipher.
“It is I, Harald,” he offers his hand, “the keeper of Kastali.”
“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name in return.
“Lovely name, lovely,” he squeezes before he lets you go, “and a curious accent I here. American? No, no, speak for me again.”
You blink at him dumbly, “um, okay, I don’t know what to say, sir.”
“Irish,” he jabs his finger into the air. “I hear the twang.”
“No, sir,” you laugh, “Canadian.”
“Ah, the great north,” he booms, “yes, I see. Forgive my assumptions.”
“It’s okay,” you grip your bag and shift your weight nervously. “Thank you for the interview, sir, this place is really cool.”
“Interview?” He squints, “is that what I said? No, no, you’re hired.”
“What?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have time for an interview,” he shakes his head, “I need help. Forthwith.”
“Oh, right, maybe I misread--”
“Let’s forget that, unless...” his brows rise and his forehead lines, “you do not want the job?”
“No, no, I do,” you assure him, “I just wasn’t expecting to start today.”
“Yes, you are not dressed well for chasing away Gustav.”
“Gustav?” You echo.
“You will know him. He is a dark cloud on this place. If you do run into him, well, run in the other direction,” he girds, “well then,” he moves to stand with his back to the door, holding it open, “let’s begin with the tour, the we will worry about all else.”
“Oh, sure, um, right. Cool,” you pass through the door and he eases the door shut behind him. As the old brass latch clanks, you wince.
“Wow,” you look around at the interior walls, “it’s so big. It must be a lot of work. How many people work here?”
He laughs heartily and claps his hand on his chest, “just me. Well, you too, now.”
“Just you?” You gape over at him. It’s only then your notice that his hair is much longer than you thought. It hangs, bounded in golden hoops, down his back, much like an ancient warrior fashion.
“The king of my own castle,” he winks over at you, “let’s not waste any more time. We have much to do.”
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elmhat · 18 hours
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// dsmp rp
CW: implied alcohol issues
A couple of days after Dream’s prison escape—the real one, that was, not the little lie Sam had spun—Quackity found himself in an empty bar. It was a beautiful day. Sun shining, birds singing, all the usual shit. This place wasn’t really open yet, in technical terms, but if anyone had an issue with him being here, they wouldn’t for long.
He knew who had entered before he turned. Might as well get this over with. “Let me guess,” said Quackity, voice rough from disuse. “You still haven’t found him.”
“We’re still looking,” Sam confirmed. His armor sounded heavier than usual, in a place like this. It was streaked with blood. Not his. Not Dream’s, either.
Quackity took a slow sip from his wine glass, not really tasting it at all. “Then why are you here?” he asked.
Sam looked confused; he had always been slow on the uptake. “What do you mean? Like, you know he’s probably coming for you, right?” He watched as Quackity hung his head, staring vacantly at the gaps between his fingers. It was quiet enough to hear the air hissing softly through Sam’s mask. “Are you— Why are you so relaxed about this?”
With a snort, Quackity let his gaze drift back to his glass. Almost empty. The liquid sat still and undisturbed. “That’s funny,” he said. “That’s funny, Sam. That’s a funny thing to ask the guy you told he'd escaped two months ago.”
“You’re not seriously still on that,” said Sam, with a hint of accusation.
Quackity’s good eye twitched. He pushed himself up, stool scraping across the floor, and sauntered over to Sam without a care in the world, a slight sway in his step. “You think I should’ve moved on?” he asked. “Of course. No, of course that makes sense. Of course you’d think I should move on, that’s what you told me with, uh, with Karl and Sapnap and all that, right? When I came crying to you like a little bitch?”
Sam cringed. “That’s not even— You know this is different, Quackity. I mean it, I’m not kidding around, Dream’s out there. This is serious.”
“Exactly. Exactly. This is serious, everything’s always serious. That’s why you lied to me, right, ‘cause you took your job seriously. In order to protect your precious fucking prison.” Quackity stuck a finger into Sam’s shoulder, who promptly shook him off in disgust.
“That’s enough wine for you, Q. You can’t fall apart right now, you cannot.”
“No, I think I’m feeling just fine, actually.” Quackity returned to the bar, running a hand along the wood. “This whole thing, everything— it’s taking over your mind, Sam, like fucking always, so now you gotta choose. You’ve gotta make your choice. Either get your ass back out there and fail at finding Dream again, or take a fucking seat.” He patted the stool beside him, taking a deep swig from his glass until there was nothing left. And he grinned.
“Because you know what, Sam? We’re both dead men anyway. Might as well have some fun before the world fucking burns.”
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foxdrabbles · 18 hours
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Closure: "Did we just become best friends!?" Glaucus: *groan*
Closure: hey
glcs: no
Closure: oh come onnnnnnnnnn you don't even know what I'm gonna ask
glcs: so you are gonna ask for something
Closure: haha very funny.
Closure: listen I need you to test the drones we salvaged last week, I finally got them running again and I wanna see if the new shielding is gonna hold up
glcs: it won't
Closure: you don't know that!
glcs: i do
Closure: come onnnnnnnnn you're the only one with an emp gun on this landship
Closure: tell you want if you come help me with this I can cut you a deal on the next shipment of special supplies
-- message could not be sent --
No1Vamp: you blocked me????
glcs: yes
No1Vamp: ok first of all I'm your boss you can't do that
No1Vamp: second of all you literally shouldn't be able to do that I'm an admin account
No1Vamp: unless you ip blocked me somehow? but that's not information you should have access to
-- message cannot be sent --
prts_ada: glaucus what the hell did you do
prts_ada: seriously you should not be able to do this
glcs: why can't I block this account
prts_ada: HA
prts_ada: root user bitch
prts_ada: now tell me what the fuck you're doing
glcs: if I tell you will you leave me alone
prts_ada: how about this
prts_ada: if you tell me how you blocked me and come help me with these drones I won't report you to ascalon as the biggest security risk since yours truly
glcs: fine
prts_ada: thank you! meet me in training room 5 in 20 minutes
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Husk's s/o magically gaining cat ears and a tail? Husk reaction to his s/o's new, but adorable, appendages, please?
A/n: Lowkey feel like it would be a turn on for him.
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Tugging the hat further down on your head, you didn't understand how this had happened. Maybe you pissed off the wrong demon...or perhaps you drank something that you weren't supposed to.
"Hey beautiful...I was lookin everywhere for you...why you wearing a hat?"
Turning to face Husk, your eyes went wide as you swallowed thickly. "Hey handsome...what are you talking about? I'm not wearing a hat."
"You don't." Husk paused then frowned as he spotted something behind your back. "What are you hidin?"
"Im not!" You let out a shriek as Husk grabbed hold of your tail that you now had.
Husk's eyes went wide though a large grin then formed on his face as he gave your tail another tug, warmth creeping up your neck. "How the fuck did this happen? Is this what you're hiddin?".
"S-stop touching the...mine tail." Biting your inner cheek you fell into Husk's arms.
"Now come on darlin....you take know issue with touching my tail and ears...speaking on ears." His eyes narrowed for a moment as he tugged off your hat, cat ears twitching.
"Husk." You let out a whine as he started to rub your ears gently.
Chuckling softly, he then nuzzled his face into your neck biting it softly. "Sexy little thing you are." He whispered. "Though lookin at you right now, I gotta tell ya how bad I want you." He muttered.
Rolling your eyes, you puffed out your cheeks as you tugged at his tail. "You're really asking for sex when I look like this."
"Beautiful, I will always want to fuck you....I just wanna have a little fun with these cute little ears and tail of yours." Husk stated as he caressed your tail.
Shifting your body, you peered up at him then you nodded your head as you smiled up at him. "I suppose we can do that."
Scooping you up in his arms, a laugh escaped your lips as he held you close. Ears twitching, you smiled as your tail caressed his leg as you two made your way to the bedroom.
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angstyaches · 2 days
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100 x 10
To commemorate this blog passing 1,000 followers, I wanted to write 10 new 100-word drabbles. (Because 100 x 10 = 1,000!)
Please don't send anything too elaborate; a sentence/dialogue starter/some keywords etc. + OC name(s) please! 🖤
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graendoll · 18 hours
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Okay but what if the first time Buck and Eddie kiss, its because Buck is all cocky about the fact that he's out and has dated another man and Eddie is just like... baffled by his confidence but turned on and a little amused so he kind of let's Buck press him up against a wall and right before their lips touch Buck loses his cocky grin and realizes what a huge moment this is so Eddie just...kisses him.
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truetogaia · 3 months
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just thinking and crying over the way simon would continue to refer to you as “his girl” even after your sudden passing.
he would talk about you as if you were still alive whenever relationships came up in conversation. and he’d be so reluctant to allow anyone, even his respected comrades, to try and comfort him.
“yeah, me n my girl have been together for years now. she’s everything. all i’ve got, ya know?”
he would make sure to always keep your resting place full of life. Whether that was by planting your favorite plant, and naming it after you, or always keeping it filled with bouquets of your favorite flowers. and he’d always take your beloved pet that you left behind to go see you.
“did you miss mommy, p/n? i bet our girl missed you so much.” and he’d smile sadly when your baby showed signs of recognizing your grave. his heavy hand petting it comfortingly “so excited to see her today, yeah?”
cod masterlist
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sprout-fics · 4 months
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Neighbors Alpha Ghost except he’s extremely polite for a man who is the biggest scariest alpha you’ve ever met. Alpha Ghost who’s lived beside you for years and has developed a rapport of trust with you, the sweet omega that lives next door. Ghost, who trusts you to watch over his place when he’s deployed and in return he helps you repair the various odds and ends in your place. Ghost who routinely asks you if you need anything from the store, and in return you give him baked sweets to take to base.
Ghost who’s gone for weeks at a time for work and you try not to entertain the idea that he may not come back, that one day you’ll wake up to your landlady emptying out his apartment and learning the hard way that you’ll never see him again. Ghost who always comes back, and feels a warm flush of fondness at the relief on your face when you see him again.
Ghost who once came home to find you cornered in the stairwell by an alpha you’d rejected, your face horrified at the things your would be suitor was snarling at you. Ghost who bodily hauled the smaller alpha down the stairs and threw him into the street with a snarled warning to never return, fangs bared beneath his mask. Ghost who returned to make sure you got home safe, and the next day helped you install a secure deadbolt for your safety.
Ghost who allowed himself a rare encounter that night when you hugged him in thanks, swallowing down tears and apologizing for the hassle. Ghost, who’s thought of the moment ever since, of how nice you smelled, how the feeling of you in his arms felt right.
Ghost, who hears you through the thin wall you two share a few weeks later, crying your eyes out. When you answer his gentle knock your face crumples. You confess that said rotten alpha showed up to your job and made a scene, and you were reluctantly let go because of the disturbance. Ghost, who for all his cold hearted demeanor and apathetic nature, feels only anger when you tell him this. Silently, Ghost vows to track down the fellow and discreetly ensure he’ll never hassle another omega again.
Ghost who stays at your request despite himself, allows you to put on old TV reruns and sniffle into his shoulder before you fall asleep there on the couch. Ghost, who’s instincts swell with pride at this omega who deems him safe enough to let into your den, to keep you safe while you rest against him.
Ghost who hears from you a week later, when you knock on his door embarrassed but standing strong with your fists clenched at your sides. Ghost, who is amused at your demeanor and listens as you tell him you have money for rent and groceries this month, but not for your suppressants. Ghost half expects you to ask for money, but is floored when you instead steel yourself and ask him to help you with your coming heat because you trust him. Ghost who freezes where he stands and finally tells you he’ll consider it, unable to shake your pleased smile for hours afterwards.
Ghost who sits on it for a few days, ignores the possessive, prowling thing in his chest as he weighs his options but agrees to help you. Ghost, who watches Price raise an eyebrow when he puts in for leave- his lieutenant who never seems to stop working, but approves it anyways. Ghost who researches what omegas need during heats, from nesting supplies to physical touch to…everything else and tries to remind himself it’s just a favor. It doesn’t mean anything, even if you asked him out of everyone else you know.
Ghost who gets a text on a lazy Sunday morning and is in your flat five minutes later willing but oddly nervous. He expects to find you in a state of debauchery but instead pads into your bedroom to find you curled under the covers sweating and glassy eyed, still coherent to smile and offer a weary thanks. Ghost who supplies a bag of scent laden clothes that has you curling into his familiar smell with a pleased whine. Ghost who tries his best at making you food while you arrange the clothes into a nest with sluggish limbs.
Ghost, who stiffly sits at your bedside and dabs at your sweaty brow, ignoring the flare of base instinct at the sweet, hypnotic smell of an omega in heat. His omega, his instincts purr. Just not yet. Ghost who cedes to your demands to cuddle, watching you go pliant and soft in his arms with a sigh, drinking in his scent as you drift off to sleep.
Ghost who wakes up hours later to you squirming and whining against him, panting and hazy eyed as the telltale scent of slick clouds his nose and draws an answering, primal growl from deep in his chest. Ghost who, with great restraint and gentleness works to prep you with large, calloused fingers, taking more time that he should just to make sure you’re ready. Ghost who firmly hushes your complaints and instead allows himself the selfish act of being completely involved in you, far beyond that of a clinical touch. Ghost who smears your tears of desperation with his thumb, murmurs a dark and heady “pretty omega” before finally, finally sinking into you.
Ghost, who maneuvers you as he pleases, watching the awareness fade from your eyes only to be replaced by heat-addled lust and your lips begging for more. Ghost who braces his full weight on you and rocks with slow, powerful motions that have you hiccup and writhe under him, pushing back onto his cock. Ghost who’s fangs pop out as he carefully refuses the instinct to bite the gland of the mewling, whimpering omega underneath him, but failing to restrain the instinctual growl of MINE that thunders in his chest.
Ghost who makes you come so slick dribbles down your thighs and you fist the sheets with a whimper of his name. Ghost who coos praises into your ear and grinds his cock into you so your eyes roll back into your head. Ghost who has you come twice more before he finally empties himself into you and silently feels the instinctual hope that it takes. Ghost who has no need to measure his stamina, ready to go again in minutes as you reach blindly for him, presenting oh so prettily for your alpha.
Ghost who takes all the time in the world for the days that follow, allowing himself to cave to the alpha instinct of providing, protecting, caring for the perfect little omega in his care. Ghost who watches you like shark as you fall asleep in the bath, sitting you in his lap after and making you eat before sinking you on his cock again. Ghost who coos at you as you go slack jawed and glassy eyed as he mounts you once more- ruining the sheets he just changed as you gush around him.
Ghost who wakes on the third day sore in all the best ways, noticing the way you cling to him like an octopus as you sleep. Ghost who pets at you fondly and noticed the scent of your heat finally ebbing away, blissfully shortened by his attentions. Ghost who watches your peaceful face and once more purrs happily at the thought that you’re his.
Ghost who can’t help but think about the next time he’s due to rut, about stretching you out on his knot and feeling the sensation of you clench down on him in climax. Ghost who reminds himself that it’s only one thing to look forward to, that courting is a careful process and that you deserve to be treated well in the duration of it. Ghost who now lays a palm on your scent gland and rumbles deep and primal, fulfilled at you being soaked in his scent, warding off any other alphas. Ghost who promises you and himself to do this right, to be the mate you need him to be.
Ghost who drifts back off thinking how beautiful his claiming bite might look against your throat.
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aakeysmash · 29 days
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Katsuki just needs you to lay your eyes on him to get hard.
You can be sleepy and looking up at him with your eyes half open and he gets a boner.
Roughed up in the morning, teeth still not brushed and you just peek at him from one eye before snuggling into his open arms? He’s getting a boner.
Maybe you’re moaning with his food in your mouth while complimenting how good of a cook he is with sparkling eyes, and his blood rushes straight to his dick.
And it’s not always because he wants to fuck you, even if he does have a super high sex drive and would bend you over 4 times a day if you’d let him.
Sometimes it’s just because his heart skips a beat while thinking about how softly only you know how to look at his soul, even behind all his rough exterior.
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celestialwhoree · 3 months
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♡🎀
Simon Riley is the type to get his partner a dog, argue with the wall.
He maybe even pulls some strings to get them a retired K9, or maybe one that didn't make it all the way through training due to size, injury etc.
He literally cannot stand the thought of them alone when he's deployed for long periods of time, not just worried about them being lonely despite having loads of friends, a bookclub and a job. He also can't stand the thought of them unprotected in their home.
Their house is practically a safe house with the way Simon's done it up with help of the boys and some pretty fancy security equipment, but the fact that there's also a massive, scary looking dog in the house is just another layer of protection.
The dog is absolutely just the sweetest, most gentle thing, but after all those years of training, it's fiercely loyal to its owners, and won't hesitate to bare its teeth if they're threatened - much like Simon himself.
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