#I really wish I could edit faster

[amethystina]

Hello !!! I hope u r well and recovering 💘

Fir the ask game: 🤡❌️👀

Unfortunately, things are still pretty rough but I'm hanging in there :)

🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?

I'm not sure if there is such a line, to be honest. Mainly because most of the things I write aren't all that funny, but also because it takes a lot for me to laugh when it's my own writing. Because I already know the punchline before the joke's even started, so it's just not that exciting. If that makes sense?

That said, Yoon Sa Wol from Black Knight is an absolute hoot to write and there is one exchange in particular that definitely makes me want to cackle whenever I think about it. It's when he's talking to 4-1 (a coworker of his) and they accidentally stumble onto the subject of whether or not Sa Wol could have sex with 5-8 (the dude he is definitely interested in having sex with) and the following happens:

All things considered, it didn't seem like a bad idea at all. 4-1 didn't seem to agree. She gave him a flat look, as if the answer should be obvious. "He'd eat you for breakfast." Sa Wol paused for a beat but, really, the only thing he could think to say was: "I mean, wouldn't that be the whole point?" 4-1 let out a choked noise that sounded outright painful.

SA WOL, NO.

But also, kudos on being so goddamn shameless.

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

I'm not sure if there is one? Because, sure, I'm not personally into mpreg or A/B/O but I can't say I'll never write them. Like, if someone gave me enough money to write those tropes, I probably would. We get money where we can in this economy xD

I think the closest I come to a complete "I refuse to write this" are the things I find triggering or just don't agree with on a moral level. So I'd have a hard time glorifying abuse, for example, or write something that involves incest or non-con between a romantic couple. The kind where transgressions are eventually forgiven or brushed aside because "they actually love them and it was just a mistake" and that kind of stuff.

There's a reason why I'm so determined to call out Yo Han's bullshit in my Devil Judge fics, for example, and why Moon Jo is such a lovesick simp in my Strangers From Hell fic. I find them to be incredibly fascinating as characters, but I admit I would never be able to write them doing something along those lines. They both skirt the line from time to time — which is sort of the point in some ways — but I try to criticise the behaviour rather than excuse or glorify it.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I kind of mentioned all of them when I did the WIP Tag Game not too long ago, so you can see what they are and read about them if you look at this tag right here!

But aside from that, I can say that I'm currently trying to edit and post chapter six of A New Dawn (Begins With Us), and, after that, I'm going to try and edit chapter 3 of The Right Set of Circumstances, and, after that, I... well, I don't know x'D I'll either try to edit Thou Shalt Not Covet or maybe I'll allow myself to write chapter 42 of Who Holds the Devil.

I'm kind of holding that chapter hostage right now since I HATE editing and would much rather write — it's just so much more fun. But if I only wrote and didn't edit, I would never post anything, so I kind of have to force myself to edit from time to time, too.

And it's extra annoying right now since I'm so feverish and that just makes editing ten times worse for some reason?

So yeah. I have a lot going on right now in terms of WIPs and it's kind of beginning to feel like a second job, not going to lie x'D

Thank you so much for the ask! :D

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

[seiwas]

just a lil bit of a share ! i’ve been feeling really down lately about not writing that much 🥲 and keeping up with posting more frequently/updating a few of my series more regularly 🥲 but i looked at my masterlists and noticed almost 60% of my fics are actually from this year and we’re only half-way in 🥺

anyway ! the point of this is, if you’re being too hard on yourself today, i hope you’re reminded that you’re doing much better than you think 🥺

[wizardofarles]

hey I just wanted to give you guys a heads up that though I said in a previous post I would try to have chapter 15 ready by this sunday (march 10) that’s definitely not going to happen (I’m so sorry once again).

I’m pretty confident I can have it ready to post by Saint Paddy’s day though!! (that’s march 17 for the heathens). I’ve got the luck of the Irish on my side guys trust me, I feel it in my bones 💪🍀🇮🇪

[a-very-fond-farewell]

listen. when I say these two are toxic for each other I don’t mean it in an abusive way. if they want to fight, brawl and then fuck about it or pine away that’s their business. I’m just transcribing what I see. I’m genderfluiding what they show me. I’m out of here.

[conjuring-ghouls]

Finally finished editing a 250 picture photoshoot that I said I would deliver tomorrow

[almostempty]

Something in your mouth

(joel miller x f!reader)

The third installment of  Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel

WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date

Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit  

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine

Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth

major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect

thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo

it really takes a village or whatever they say <3 

*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and  Part 2 a read for a refresh <3 

*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know 

okay, it's starting now:

You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual. 

When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…

Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice. 

Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him. 

Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist. 

You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text? 

No. No, no, no. 

You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right? 

The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway. 

A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you. 

Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it. 

“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great. 

“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face. 

“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down. 

“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug. 

“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.” 

You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her. 

You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up. 

You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking. 

“What did he say?” 

Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately. 

“Who?” 

Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety. 

You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.  

Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks. 

“Oh, you meant Joel?” 

You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought. 

“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?

You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh. 

Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it. 

So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason. 

“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.

“What?” 

“You’ve got that look on your face.” 

You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?” 

You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it. 

“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust. 

You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out. 

“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.” 

Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up. 

“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—” 

“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.” 

“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask. 

“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod. 

“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”

“A date?” you echo. 

She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late. 

Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.

The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him. 

Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world. 

Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers. 

Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat. 

You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn. 

You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you. 

Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench. 

Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp. 

“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.” 

“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work. 

It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie. 

There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man. 

You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong. 

Except for, well, everything. 

You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day? 

When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem. 

Joel’s text comes through late in the evening. 

Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again? 

You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later. 

Joel: More 

You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise. 

You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line. 

You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more 

Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.

“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative. 

“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day. 

“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.” 

Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason. 

You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store— 

“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply. 

“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”

You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly. 

Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that. 

“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.” 

You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone. 

“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.” 

He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door. 

It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.  

“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone. 

“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”

You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”

“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”

There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.

“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.

“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”

“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”

There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you. 

“Jesus,” he grumbles. 

Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh. 

“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies. 

“Yep.” 

You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.

……..

It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name. 

You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes causin’ trouble.” 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 

His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”

“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once. 

“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work. 

“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”

You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.” 

There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”

You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”

“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?” 

You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.” 

“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.

“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. 

His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”

The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.

“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.

“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.

Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now. 

The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.

“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”

He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently. 

It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations. 

The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you. 

You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head. 

There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.

The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together. 

And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you. 

At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out. 

You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want. 

He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine. 

It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.

He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt. 

By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic? 

You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.” 

Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening. 

Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain. 

You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted. 

“How did you know?” 

“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.” 

You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?” 

“Don’t.” 

She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket. 

You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering. 

You: You been thinking about me? 

His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed. 

Joel: Maybe 

Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already? 

Joel: Have you? 

He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous? 

You: A little  

You figure you’ll give him the same treatment. 

Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby 

Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond. 

Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away 

That has you shaking your head. 

You: Patience is a virtue 

He’s quick to respond again. 

Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man 

That makes you genuinely laugh. 

You: Good 

……

By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting. 

You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous. 

You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery. 

Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath. 

It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good. 

But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly. 

It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam. 

“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him. 

“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon. 

You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan. 

They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore. 

Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?” 

“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms! 

You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you. 

The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable. 

There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace. 

Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers! 

You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research. 

You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback. 

You're so much cooler

When you never pull it out

Cause you look so much cuter

With something in your mouth

It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it. 

“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.” 

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night. 

…..

The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips. 

The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that. 

“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts. 

You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should. 

He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”  

You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself. 

“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists. 

“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“They have food, too.” you counter. 

“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head. 

He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it. 

“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.” 

It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it. 

….

It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions. 

Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening. 

Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up. 

You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?” 

His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.” 

He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.” 

You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first. 

“Relax,” you purr. 

Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax. 

“Do you have cash?” you ask. 

“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused. 

You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows. 

“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’. 

You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.

“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter. 

You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”

“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same. 

Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts. 

The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize. 

I’m loving what you wanna wear

I wonder what’s up under there 

Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue 

You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts. 

You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick. 

You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold. 

You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles. 

Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach. 

“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”

Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”

“Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush. 

Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?” 

The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul. 

“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.

Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous. 

“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”

He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe. 

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”

Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”

He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp? 

Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.

“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”

“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”

He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear. 

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”

His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties. 

“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.” 

“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off. 

His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”

Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up. 

“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”

He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”

Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue. 

Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date. 

But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right? 

You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking. 

You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. 

“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.” 

“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.” 

“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 

Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.” 

You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild. 

It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. 

His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you. 

“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.” 

The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control. 

“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back. 

He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow. 

“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly. 

“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?” 

“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.” 

“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.

Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.” 

The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams. 

“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”

Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”

“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”

He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.

THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOYED OR HATED ANY OF IT <3

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

Tags:

@pedroswife69

@jasminedragoon

@lilac-boo

@peekyourinterest

@evysian

@millersamour

@evolnoomym

@ladybeediva

@hoelaris

@gwendibleywrites

@xdaddysprincessxx

@bitchesuntitled

@thundermartini

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@indiegirlunited

@yopossum

@sunshinehaze1

@moel-jiller

@pedrito-is-punk

@baebee35

@blacktoptown

@deliciouslydisturbed365

@94namkooksworld

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@indiegirlunited

@kilamonster

@hoelaris

@anoverwhelmingdin

@bbyanarchist

@syd-djarin

@deviseren

@embearlyhere

@ace-turned-confused

@lostfleurs

@perpetuallymanic

@embearlyhere

@kilamonster

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited

@syd-djarin

@harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

[mxltifxnd0m]

in the side of my neck ⧨ s. winchester

summary: you help sam out when he accidentally wakes you up in the middle of the night

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader

word count: 1K

warnings: slight sub/dom dynamics, subby! sam, handjob m! receiving, praise, smut, reader is a little mean (not really), no use of y/n, kinda edited

a/n: MINORS DNI! 18 + ONLY

did i do this instead of my homework? ...yes. but it was supposed to be a quick little blurb but alas it has hit 1k words loll but i wrote this bc i could not stop thinking about sub!sam since saturday :) title is a lyric from red wine supernova by chappell roan

anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The sound of clothes rustling and something rutting against you was what pulled you from your dreamscape. You could feel Sam’s warm breath against your neck as he let small whimpers escape his parted lips. 

His hard cock was covered by his boxers, but you could feel it perfectly against the crack of your ass. You knew Sam was still asleep. You could feel his even breaths as he rutted against you. You figured it was still late in the morning; the motel room still shrouded in darkness as you blinked away the sleep from your eyes. You were facing the not-so-empty bed near the door. Dean’s back was facing you as he slept soundly, tiny snores escaping him. You were surprised that he had come back to the room at all; he was still out at the bar by the time you and Sam fell asleep. 

Sam started to grind against you more insistently, his whimpers becoming more frequent as they were muffled against your neck. You twisted in Sam’s grip to face him. Your sudden movement made Sam stir. His hazel eyes blinked open, breaking through the haze of sleep and glazed over with lust.

“Good dream?” You whispered to him, a teasing smile on your face as you took in the familiar pleading look on Sam’s face. 

Even in the dark room, you could tell that Sam was blushing as he tried to shy away from you. You moved your hand to the back of Sam’s head and pulled on some of the strands to pull him away from your neck. A soft moan escaped his mouth, making the corners of your lips twitch. 

“Don’t be shy, handsome.” Your hand left his hair to trail down his bare chest, down his happy trail leading down to the waistband of his boxers, before tugging on the waistband teasingly. “Do you want me to take care of it?” 

“Please.” Sam whispered, his tone filled with want. You smirked before planting your lips on his as the hand that was tugging at his waistband slipped past, and your hand grabbed Sam’s cock. 

A choked moan escaped Sam as you began to stroke him slowly, using the precum that was dribbling from the tip as a lubricant.

Sam broke away from the kiss with a gasp as your grip on him got tighter, and the pace got faster as you twisted your wrist every time you squeezed his tip. He shoved his face into your slightly sweaty neck to muffle the small groans and whines leaving his pink lips. 

“Wish I could hear all the pretty noises you make. But we don’t want to wake up Dean now do we?” You whispered in his ear before nipping at his earlobe. A louder whine came from Sam in response to your words. You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at his reaction as you continued your steady strokes on Sam’s cock.

God, you wished you could see it right now, the tip flushed red and leaking a steady stream of precum. You really wanted to put Sam on his back and trail your lips over his chest and thighs, teasing him until you took him in his mouth whole, your nose nestled in the thatch of hair at the base of his cock, relishing in the moans and whimpers escaped Sam’s pretty mouth. 

But for now, you’ll have to take the choked whimpers and low groans coming from Sam as he begins to thrust up into your grip. You could tell he was close and desperate to come, feeling his cock twitching in your hand. 

“Gonna cum Sammy?” 

He nodded into your neck. “Wanna cum so bad. Please.” Sam whimpered your name as he distracted himself by suckling at the soft skin on your neck.

“Be a good boy and cum for me okay?”  Sam started to thrust harder in your hand, it sticky with his precum. 

The room was mostly silent, barring the shuffling of the sheets from Sam’s hips rutting upwards in your grip and the quiet, repetitive shlick sound as your hand moved up and down on his cock.

Sam came with a whimper and bit you where your neck met your shoulder, and you let out a soft groan at the feeling but you kept stroking him through his orgasm, your hand and the inside of his boxers covered in his cum. You slowly withdrew your hand, and Sam pulled his face away from your neck. You could see the blissful smile on his face before his eyes widened slightly as he saw you clean your hand with your tongue. 

You couldn’t help but smirk at the awed expression on Sam’s face as you lapped up the last of his cum off of your fingers. You leaned forward to give Sam a soft kiss, but it quickly turned filthy as Sam invaded your mouth with his tongue, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as you realized that Sam was tasting the remnants of himself in your mouth. You felt Sam begin to paw at your shirt, and you knew that he wanted to return the favor. 

You broke away from the kiss, Sam chasing your lips before kissing your cheek sloppily and trailing his lips down to your jaw. 

You acted quickly and moved your hand to the short hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him away from your neck. 

“Not now, Sammy.” You whispered harshly at him. 

You could only imagine the pout on his face. “But-”

“You can return the favor later. S’late.” 

“Fine,” Sam grumbled under his breath before he grimaced as he shifted around in bed. He decided to kick off his boxers, and you realized that the cum drying in them wasn’t the most pleasant for him. 

Once they were off and lost somewhere in the sheets, Sam pulled you into his warm embrace before burying his face into your clothed chest. His breathing began to even out as you played with his soft hair. The last thing you noticed was that the room started to become brighter before you had been pulled back underneath the veil of sleep. 

[prentissluvr]

hold me, it's enough — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, descriptions of physical assault, small injuries, blood, pet names (baby, honey), barely edited, 1.6K words. requested !

prompt : "who did this to you?"

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the cruelest part about tonight is the way you have to call sam to come pick you up, like you’re some child who’s gotten sick at school. it’s embarrassing and makes you feel guilty because your call woke him up. he’d gone back to the motel early to sleep after a long hunt; took the impala after dean disappeared with a girl, leaving you alone in the bar with your own car in the parking lot.

he answers after four rings, voice a little husky from sleep as he says your name questioningly into the speaker.

“hey, sam,” you respond, sighing quietly to yourself, “sorry to wake you, but i– i can’t drive myself back to the motel… any chance you could pick me up?”

you hear the rustle of sheets from the other end of the line, and you assume it’s sam sitting up. “yeah, of course,” he agrees easily, already up and looking for socks to put on. you can’t see the light frown on his face as he picks up on all of the little nuances in your voice. “you don’t sound drunk. baby, is everything alright?”

you figured he’d ask, but the expectation doesn’t remedy your hesitation to answer. “i… sort of got into a fight. hit my head real hard and i don’t think i should be driving.”

the split second after your answer is enough to show you sam’s surprise. “jesus, honey, are you okay?” he asks, worry making his voice thick.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. promise,” you reassure him. he takes a moment to consider your words; whether you’re lying for his sake or if you’re actually okay. your voice is clear and, though a little tired, sounds like you’re just fine. you don’t seem dizzy or out of sorts, and sam takes that as a good sign considering it was your head that you hit. so, he relaxes just a touch as he climbs into the impala. you hear the car door opening and shutting through the phone speaker.

“so, you got into a bar fight?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice. he’s still worried about you, but that wasn’t news he expected to hear tonight, or really any night at all. sure, you never back down from a fight, but you’re certainly not the type to start one either.

you roll your eyes a little at his tone. “sort of. the guy deserved it. i elbowed him in the guts and he shoved me. he looked utterly terrified when i stood back up and he saw the look in my eyes,” you describe, humor finding its way into your voice at the end.

sam wants to give a little laugh at your joke, tell you that he can imagine the man running away with his tail between his legs just from the look in your eye, but he’s still stuck on the fact that he shoved you. on the fact that he did something that warranted you to resort to physical violence. 

he clenches his jaw before asking, “did he try to touch you?” his voice is low as he presses down on the gas harder.

wishing your comment about the man’s scared look would have been successful in distracting sam, you sigh. sometimes, sam is too damn smart and he thinks too damn much.

“he got a little handsy, but i took care of it,” you reassure him. “it’s okay. pretty sure i scared him off so bad he left the bar.”

sam grits his teeth, trying not to react too strongly in a way he knows you won’t like. “i’m gonna beat his sorry ass.” he settles for angry, but not too much, and not even possible since the fucker’s already gone.

“yeah, i know,” you sigh into the phone.

the bar’s only ten minutes from the hotel, and sam gets there faster than that. he walks into the establishment, eyes scanning the crowded place to find your familiar silhouette seated at the bar, your left elbow resting on the counter and holding a rag and plastic bag filled with ice to your head. he rushes towards you, swiftly maneuvering between tables and moving bodies.

he says your name a few steps before he reaches you, as to not startle you, placing a worried hand on your shoulder blade when you turn to look at him. he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. there’s drying blood streaking down the side of your face, and your eyes betray that you’re much more shaken by the incident than you were letting on over the phone. he curses your talent in sounding much more okay than you really are. his jaw clenches and his eyes are worried and angry.

“who did this to you?” his voice is rough, the words forced out through gritted teeth as he fights to stay gentle. you sigh at his words, able to tell immediately how angry he’s feeling.

“he’s gone now,” you say gently, secretly relishing in how protective he is of you. you instantly feel safer, much more secure with him in front of you. “i’m okay,” you say, knowing he needs to hear those words. “i promise. you know that head wounds always look worse than they are. and i wasn’t lying when i said that my glare scared him completely off.”

sam wants to tell you that he’s going to find this sorry excuse of a man, that he’s going to yell at him and hurt him and show him how horrible of a mistake he made by messing with you, but he won’t say all of that. though he’ll certainly think it. he is thinking it. but he knows that’s not what you care to hear, knows that anger is not the face you wish for him to wear.

“i believe that,” he finally settles on saying, voice softening just a little. “let’s get out of here. clean you up. there’s blood all over your face.”

you nod. another time you might quip ‘i know. it’s my face, i can feel it.’ today, you just let him place his hand on the small of your back and lead you out to the familiar black car. neither of you have to say anything to agree that you’ll come back for your own car in the morning.

sam’s silence is large, and yours is heavy. they stretch alongside each other, running out on the road with the spinning tires and escaping through the half open windows so that when sam sits you down on the edge of your shared bed, they’ve almost run out. each silence lasts until he sits next to you, first aid kit in hand, and he gently cups your face to turn it towards him. your eyes are a little shiny, and his face softens.

“i’m sorry this happened,” he whispers. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.” that’s when it hits you how guilty he’s been feeling this whole time, thinking about how nothing would’ve happened if he stayed.

“no,” you shake your head. “no, sam, this wasn’t your fault.” your voice is full of conviction as you say this, because it’s true. “you couldn’t have known this would happen. you only left because you know that i can take care of myself, and i did. i took care of it, and it’s over now. and i’m okay.”

“honey,” he chides, wishing you’d admit to him how you really feel. though he might start crying himself if he has to keep looking at you with so much blood on your face, so he takes the wet cloth he prepared in the bathroom and begins to gently wipe at your bloodied skin. the redness comes off easily, but he still hates the sight of it on the white cloth. “just because we deal with monsters and demons and horrible shit all the time doesn’t mean that creepy, pushy men are any less gross and scary than they really are. just because you can deal with it, doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

you purse your lips, then swallow against tears. the feeling of that man’s hand grabbing your wrist hard is still so visceral, and the way that you’d been so taken by surprise that his strength sent you sprawling to the floor still makes you feel sort of embarrassed. and sam’s soft hands and gentle reassurances are so contrasting, so good to you that it makes you a little emotional. 

unconsciously, your own hand drifts to the opposite wrist where the man grabbed you, the sleeve of your dress shirt wrinkled and skin tender from how strong his grip was. the movement catches sam’s eye, and his gaze darkens once again when he realizes how you were grabbed. you see the anger and guilt resurface on his features and you gently grab his wrist instead.

with confidence, you guide his hand to yours and hold it there, looking him right in the eye. your eyes swim with faith and sincerity as you wordlessly tell him that you trust his hands on you, on the places where you’re bruised and bloody.

“it’s okay,” you say, voice hushed and assured. “this… it’s enough, sam. it’s all i need.” just these few words tell him that you don’t care that he wasn’t there when it happened, that his care and comfort in this moment are enough to make it better. that his understanding and worry and protectiveness still mean so much. that things happen, but you’ll be okay so long as he’s there to hold you in the aftermath.

so he does just that. he cleans and dresses your wound, and holds you close on the edge of the bed until you ask to go to sleep. then he holds you under the covers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and whispering sweet things, until there’s nothing but soft darkness and his touch left, and you’re asleep.

[forcedtogrow]

FTM cock-shame, forcemasc edition

You’ve been going to the gym with your coach for a while now, he’s a bigger and more experienced lifter and has helped you push through every goal you thought was impossible to reach. After many, many weeks of watching your hunky coach glistening with sweat, you start to get curious about his tdick, if he’s big all over… He wears a packer most of the time to create a bulge in his gym shorts that makes it hard to tell, but one day he forgets to wear underwear and you catch him changing.

His soft is bigger than your hard, in every dimension. It’s honestly embarrassing that a guy like you is even considered in the same category as a guy like him—that’s what you think anyway. You’re getting hard watching his dick jiggle as he shifts his weight while changing, but it’s not like anyone will notice less than an inch in your boxer briefs. You look away in time so he doesn’t see you flush with humiliation for being so inferior, you didn’t even know bottom growth could look like that! I mean, you’re really small anyway, maybe half an inch? Most guys don’t get luckier than 1.5 inches even after years on T…but he is packing.

Your arm brushes his while you pull your shirt off and adjust your binder, he smiles at you. “Nice job today kid, I can tell you’ve been training hard between sessions”, he’s toweling off his upper body while he talks to you, flexing and contracting his arms, chest, his back—“you seem distracted”, he points out as you’re staring at his pecs, and coach flexes to emphasize he knows where your attention is at.

“I, uh, I’m ah…I mean I’ve never seen you change before”. You wish you hadn’t said it but when you start you can’t stop, “your bottom growth is fucking huge, coach. I didn’t think it could get that big”. He laughs and punches your arm harder than he means to, or maybe he wanted to hit you that hard. “It can, if you don’t mess around with that low dose shit, you could make way more progress if you doubled your dose and stop being scared of becoming a man”. Coach puts his hand on your shoulder and gives you a faint smile, like a good father softening criticism with love.

“You want to look like me right?”, he cups one of his pecs and runs his hand down his abdomen. “You want to get big and hairy,” he grabs your hand and rubs it against the coarse hair on his abdomen, “just like this right? And down here too”. You stop just shy of touching his dick. “What if someone sees us coach? I don’t wanna be the gym slut…”.

“You won’t be the gym slut, you’ll be my slut, but only if you up your dose and start growing for me”. Coach lifts you up and carries you to the back of the locker room, slamming you up against the wall. “Let’s play show and tell, kid. Show me yours and I’ll tell you how big you could get if you really wanted”. You pull down your boxer briefs to show the tiniest head of growth, like a mini dick-tip barely poking out of its foreskin.

“That’s it? Really?” He bends down to look closer, keeping his hands on your waist; you can feel the warmth of his breath on you. “It’s not like I can make it grow faster! It-it’s just growing slower cus I’m on the gel…it’s not fair to compare us anyway, coach. You have the biggest I’ve ever seen”, you can almost feel his lips touching you and suddenly your legs feel like giving out. “No more gel. No more low-dose T.”, coach rubs his bottom lip over your dick, making it twitch in a way you’ve never felt before. “If you promise to do your shots and turn into a big, hairy muscle man for me I’ll suck you off, and you can think about how much better it’ll feel to get a blowjob when you have a big fat cock like mine”, you start squirming your hips trying to force yourself into his mouth, but he easily forces you down with his strong hands.

“I’ll double my dose coach, I’ll do it tonight! I’ll let you put the shot in my ass yourself”. As you say it he starts to close his lips around you and gently circle your tip with his tongue, but stops abruptly. “Don’t get so excited kid, I’m gonna need a little more effort from you if you really want to show me how much you want to be a man”. Coach presses you harder into the wall, “see how easy it is for me to pin you? Don’t you wish you were strong like me?”. You start to moan and pitifully try to push him off of you, accidentally rubbing your dick against his thigh. “Seems like all you want right now is my mouth. Isn’t that right, slut?”. You let your mouth hang open and start rocking your body against your coaches hard, hairy thighs.

“I want to be just like you coach…”, you say moving close enough to kiss him, but he puts his hand over your mouth. “How about this”, coach moves down to your hips again, “I’m gonna suck your baby dick while you tell me how badly you want to be a big man for me”.

Coach starts lightly wrapping his lips around you, not sucking yet, just looking up at you like a muscle whore. “I want to be just like you coach, I want to eat and lift until my muscles feel like they’re going to explode”, coach starts sucking you off and doing this flick with his tongue…even his tongue is so strong… “I want to be be bigger than you, even if I have to quit my job and lift 24/7 and be an empty-headed muscle slut, only thinking about injecting myself with T and eating and lifting until the only clothes I can wear are XXL tank tops, I-“ you gasp as coach grabs your ass to push your cock harder into his mouth, sucking and slipping his tongue over your hole as the same time. “I-I…want to feel my dick getting bigger, I want to fill up your mouth with thick it is, I want to look like a real man next to you”. Coach keeps sucking and starts finger banging you like he’s possessed, you could not have imagined how sexy he would look with his shoulders flexed, veins bulging on his arms while he takes you into his mouth…red faced, sweating, gasping and moaning on your little clit-dick…

You cum so hard in his mouth you feel on the edge of blacking out.

“Now bend over and I’ll get the needle”.

[russellsppttemplates]

We don't fit together (Lando Norris)

Your lifestyle is so different to Lando's that maybe everyone else is right

Note: english is not my first language. I'm not sure how I feel about this, it's like a love hate relationship with it to be completely honest... I hope it's still enjoyable to read! Update: there's a part 2 here !

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, alcohol consumption

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Lando facetimes and he's going to a club wherever he is

"Hello, baby!", Lando greeted with a bug smile when you picked up his video call.

"Hey love, congrats on your podium!", you smiled back, now able to congratulate him face to face even if through a screen, "Don't you look handsome, hm?", you bit your lip once he set the phone and clasped his bracelets on his wrist.

The outfit was simple but he made it look so good. He was wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt and a backwards black cap was covering his curls. Had he been right in front of you, you would have already laced your arms around his neck and littered little kisses along the tanned skin.

"Thank you, baby", he blushed slightly, "Max and Kelly are also going to the club where Martin is playing tonight", he smiled, "it's really good and it's supposed to have the craziest nights out in town, so we're going to check it out - I miss you loads, can't wait to go back home", he mused.

"Me too, but I'm glad you're having a good time out there! I'm not going to say I wish I was there because it doesn't look like my scene, but I can't wait to have you with me, love", you giggled.

"That's true, I don't think it would be very enjoyable for you", Lando agreed, "we're leaving in the morning, which will be night time for you, so I'll text you updates and then when I arrive we can have an early dinner in that restaurant you really like near my place and then you could spend the night. How does that sound?", he suggested.

"Sounds good to me", you smiled at the prospect. Time couldn't go by faster.

"I have to go, baby - Max and Kelly are already downstairs waiting for me! I love you and I can't wait to kiss your gorgeous face", he winked.

"Go enjoy yourself, Lan, you deserve it! Give my congratulations to Max and send Kelly a hug from me. I love you!", you blew him a kiss before he ended the call.

Work commitments and some family situations had kept you from going to the race weekend. It was a common thing to happen but it still left you missing Lando like crazy, counting down the hours until he was on your arms again.

You finished cooking your dinner, ate it and then headed to the living room, ready to unwind and start your bedtime routine, getting a selfie from Kelly with Max and Lando in it too, the club lights illuminating then enough to tell them apart.

When you woke up, like promised, Lando had sent you a text saying he had boarded the jet and everything was on schedule. Opening the text, you saw that a few hours before he had also sent you a video.

It was less than a minute, but you could see Martin and Lando at the DJ table, happily interacting with the crowd before mixing some music up and dancing along, "I love you, baby!", Lando said into the phone before he ended the video.

You did your morning workout, showered and while you were having breakfast, you scrolled through your social media, seeing some edits from the race and a couple of videos from the club Lando, amongst other drivers, partied in.

The first one was a different angle from the one you had been sent, someone on the dance floor recording it and sending it to a fan page.

They usually didn't say much other than stating facts about the video, where it was taken, who was in it and who had sent it. This one, however, seemed to spark up the conversation as a lot of people had opinions about it.

He just looks so good 🥵 I'd never be able to leave his side if I was with him!

He always has the best night out spots

He just looks so happy when he's doing it, it's great he has friends who support him in it outside of racing

Scrolling down, a gossip page post popped up. Unlike the other videos, this one was in a controlled environment and it seemed to be from someone on the VIP area. You could see Lando and Martin talking to a group of people before the girl flipped the camera, speaking into her phone as subtitles showed "I can't believe this, it's Lando Norris! Fp you think we should go up to him? I bet he's here alone as usual", the blonde girl said as she swept her hair over her shoulder. She looked stunning, hair curled to perfection and make-up done in such a complementing way it showed skills you knew you didn't have yourself, "I've seen Max and Kelly, and Carlos was just at the bar I think", another girl with short black hair said.

"You know what I mean, he's never here with what's her face", she giggled tipsily.

Dating Lando meant that you were exposed to these type of interactions from people online on a daily basis, more frequently whenever he posted you or you joined him for the race weekend. On the comments, some people alerted the page admin and the girl who sent the video about how offensive it was and how they didn't have the right to talk about you like that, but it didn't seem to do much as other people left their opinion.

He'd be so much better without her, did you see the article where someone at the club said he left with another girl? She's done for...

It wouldn't surprise me tbh, there's only so much it can work before you realise you don't have similar interests and things are not making you happy

Lando would be so good with someone who is in the public eye, can you imagine all the content we would get?

Shaking it off of your body, you closed the app and locked your phone, taking a deep breath as your mind started filling with all sorts of doubts.

At the start, noise from the media was easy to reason with, but lately it was all you could think about. Every week with every interaction Lando had with another woman, they would suggest he was in a relationship despite knowing you were dating eachother. You didn't understand why, but they had even taken the extra step of having someone comment on it and give their opinion on it, as if there was an opinion to give on who he dated and didn't date.

Getting up, your put some music on your headphones and started tidying the house. You couldn't sort your thoughts out, so might as well deal with the mess on your apartment.

"I missed you so much", Lando said once you opened the door, his arms instantly wrapping around your body and walking you backwards, closing the door with his foot, "hello, my love", he said, nipping a few kisses on your neck before he looked up, finally kissing your lips after having spent so long away from you.

"Hello, Lan", you cupped his face, kissing his lips again as his hands roamed along your waist and back, "I'm so glad you're back home", you smiled.

"Me too, especially when I'm greeted like this", he smirked, looking you up and down. In the last two years, you still hadn't gotten fully used to the way he would look at you.

His heart swelled with pride because you were his, all for him and no one else, "I love this colour on you", he kissed your exposed clavicle, "as much as I'd love to continue this, we have reservations to get to", he smiled before licking the spot he just kissed, "let's go, gorgeous", he encouraged, making you get your coat and bag and put on your shoes, ready to go.

.

Lando got VIP entrances to a fairly new club, and since Max was in town, too, you decided to join them on a night out. Despite the opinions everyone on the internet seemed to have, you did enjoy going out, just not every week or even every month. Shutting down your laptop after sending the last e-mail, you went to shower and start getting ready.

Making sure the towell was secure on your head and the robe was soaking up all the water remnants from your skin, you walked up to your wardrobe, running your fingers through the options you had for tonight. Settling in an outfit you felt both comfortable and beautiful in, you were quick to dry yourself and change, grabbing a simple black bag out of your closet and then heading to the bathroom for hair and make-up. You clipped your loose waves away from your face once they were dry while you applied some foundation to even out your skin tone, hiding the dark circles that came with the little sleep you'd gotten that week, bronzing, highlighting and contouring what needed, doing your brows and applying some mascara to your lashes. You weren't too fussed about makeup, choosing to stay on the simpler side of things, not bothering with the little moles and pimples that still showed through as you'd end up with your face resembling a pancake instead.

Checking if you were on time, you grabbed your watch and bracelets and clasped them to your wrist before clasping your necklace on your neck and putting simple hoop earrings, appreciating your final look in the mirror.

Not too much, not too little, but you didn't look like the girls your boyfriend was rumoured to be dating. The article came from a magazine where they had analysed everyone they thought would suit Lando and his lifestyle, and even though you tried yo ignore it, Lando was the first to come to your place and tell you, in person, that he had nothing to do with those girls and most of them he didn't even knew personally anyway, spending the rest of the night in your bed reminding how much he loved you and only you.

Lando was coming to pick you up soon, so you headed to the living room to wait for him. A knock on the door announced his presence, "I'm here to pick up the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world - my girlfriend", he charmed before taking a good look at you, "you're stunning, baby, breath taking", he gasped.

"C'mon, let's go", you urged, your cheeks blushing at the attention he was giving you, "Baby girl, a little twirl for me first", he smirked, as you did it, "we're both one good looking couple, aren't we?", he added, kissing your cheek as you played with the thin chain around his neck, "you look great, handsome, so great", you kissed his throat before closing the door behind you.

As you walked inside the club with Lando, who laced your hand in his as soon as he saw the crowded place, you took it all in.

It would be a lie to say that your senses hadn't been invaded all at once when you stepped into the VIP area of the club, different kinds of substances in the air and some perfume notes invading your nose, lights flashing your eyes as the loud music rang in your ears and drummed on your feet.

Lando carefully guided you through the people - the less crowded zone helping your movements -, always keeping you close as he looked for Max and Martin.

"Hey! You finally made it!", Max said as he greeted you, "Y/N, fancy sering you here! You look amazing as always", he complimented your black pants and emerald green one shoulder top outfit.

"Hi, I'm Martin, have we met before?", he asked after he pulled you for a half hug, "I don't think so, no, I'm Y/N", you smiled at his kindness and welcoming demeanour.

"You weren't joking when you said you were going to bring special company tonight", the dutch DJ nudged Lando with his elbow before fistbumping his hand.

"My special lady only goes out when the music is really good, so you should feel honoured, mate", Lando tsked, kissing the side of your head and smiling down at you. He was so happy you were there with him.

"The bar is over there, c'mon! Let's go and get something", Max suggested, leading the way with Martin right behind him as Lando's hands squeezed your waist again as he guided you to the bar, occasionally nodding to acquaintances you two bumped into.

Getting yourself a drink and Lando grabbing something non-alcoholic for him, "I'm driving us both home tonight, I don't want to do anything irresponsible", he reasoned as the four of you engaged in conversation about the set Lando and Martin would be doing. You had always been a kept to yourself type of person, not really letting people in until you knew for sure what their intentions were, but having Lando and Max there gave you enough ease to chat with Martin too while you waited for them to go up to the booth.

Granted this wasn't your usual choice of plans, you had been out enough times to know what it entailed and what to expect, a lot of people you didn't know coming up to greet your boyfriend, some seeming closer friendships to him that others.

"Are you okay, baby? We'll have to go up in a bit, do you want to stay here or go up there?", he questioned, "I need to go to the bathroom, I won't be long hopefully, but I can meet you up there when I come back - do you think that will be okay?", you wondered, "yes, of course! Just wave at me or Max if anyone gives you any trouble, beautiful", he kissed you, "I love you", he mumbled against your lips, squeezing your hips softly before Martin pulled on his arm.

On your way to the bathroom, you accidentally touched the railing on the stairs when you were set your cup down on the designated area, the liquid on it making your squirm a little as you held out your hand like you had touched poison. For all you knew, it could be something like that.

There were two girls waiting to use one of the stalls, prompting you to gently slot yourself in front of them, "sorry, but do you mind if go first just now? I just need to wash my hand and then I'll be back to the line", you asked politely as they nodded, the first one going to the stall that freed up and making room for you as the other girl stepped out. Her face was familiar as you took a glance in the mirror, and from the smile she gave you through the mirror, you assumed she probably recognised you too.

Washing your hands again when you came out of the stall, you walked to the bar and got yourself a bottle of water, noticing your boyfriend already pressing and tapping the buttons on the mixing table as everyone danced and many captured the moment on their phones while you waited. The booth looked tight and, truthfully, quite exposed, so you decided to stay where you had been previously, still able to enjoy yourself and dance while you watched Lando and Martin.

Max must've thought the same as he spotted you a few minutes later, twirling you around before he set his drink on the high table.

"Ruby!", Max yelled as the girl from the bathroom walked up to him and gave him a hug followed by another girl you assumed was her friend, introducing her to Max before turning to you.

"You're Y/N, right?", she asked, noticing your surprised expression, "sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt - I'm Ruby, this is my friend Katie", she introduced, "we bumped into you in the bathroom, and it looked like you knew who I was", she clarified, still noticing apprehension from you, "I know Lando - we're acquaintances, I guess", she said.

"I'm so sorry, your face was familiar but I didn't know where from", you apoligised, "I kept going over in my head but I couldn't pinpoint where I knew you from", you gulped.

Up close and in the club environment, you were now sure of why her face was so familiar. She was one of the girls the gossip magazine page mentioned. She was gorgeous and from the way people greeted her, she seemed to attend many parties and nights out at that club.

"It's okay - Lando has told me about you, by the way", she smiled before her friend pitched in, "it's so nice to finally see you here, it's a good thing you came here to see him. I didn't think it would suit you, but it does look like you're having a good time", Katie offered before sipping from her drink.

"Yes, it's quite fun actually, Martin and Lando are a good duo I'd say", you smiled, pushing the backhanded compliment to the back of your mind for now.

"Do you want something to drink, Y/N? I can get it for you!", Max offered and you shook your head no, thanking him for his offer but politely declining as you saw him walk to the bar with Ruby.

"How has your night been, Y/N?", she tried to start up a conversation and appear put together even though it was clear she had drank over her limit, "I never see you here with Lando - he usually hangs out with us when he isn't pretending to be a world famous DJ", she giggled, "so are you enjoying it? I know it's not really your scene".

"It's not my usual, no, but I enjoy a night out every now and again", you remained polite, "He's really happy when he does it and he gets to relax a little and forget his troubles for a bit, it's a good thing".

"He's really funny, yes, and charming too", she hiccuped, "I'm sure people come here for a good night out anyway, but I just know that most of these people here", she pointed to the people dancing, "are here for him because they know he enjoys a good party and they do too - I guess they're hoping their similar interests will cross paths", she smiled.

She was really trying to get to you, and much to your disappointment in yourself, she was successfully doing it.

"That's how he is wired, you know? Parties after parties, living it up with all the luxury he has access to, and at such a young age, he has everything on his fingertips, anyone even! It's just a matter of him choosing what he really wants", she added, straightening herself against the table when Ruby walked back with Max.

"What were you two chatting about?", Ruby asked as she set the drinks on the table, Max doing the same with his.

"I was just telling Y/N how it usually is around here, but tonight they've upped their game because Lando is playing, look at him!", Katie pointed at your boyfriend before she started dancing around.

"He's really fun at these functions", Ruby offered, "looks like it is something he enjoys doing", she said in an earnest tone, and for a few seconds, you wanted to believe she wasn't digging at you like her friend was and was just stating a fact.

Lando had a big smile on his face. His skin was glowing both from his tan and the sheen of the sweat from how warm it was up there, occasionally holding Martin's hand when he hugged him from behind and rested his hand on his sternum. All troubles were put to a halt when he enjoyed his time off with friends doing things he loved.

Once the set was over and the speakers played what you assumed was some random playlist for the moment, Lando and Martin came back to join you at the table, "did you enjoy it, Y/N?", Martin asked.

"I did, it was very good!", you smiled, feeling Lando's hands on your waist before his mouth whispered on your ear, "Hi, baby" and kissed your neck.

"Did you stay here for the whole set?", he wondered, "yes, it looked a little cramped up in there so I stayed here with Max, then Ruby and Katie joined us for a bit", you nodded with your eyes as Katie seemed to notice your eyes on here, waving back at you and Lando.

"Oh, Ruby - she's nice, I met her girlfriend the last time I was here - so that's her friend?", he mused turning fully around to face you.

"Should be, we didn't really talk much", you shrugged your shoulders.

"Did you really enjoy it, Y/N? You can say no and we'll be out of here of you don't want to stay", Lando offered, "I myself am getting quite tired actually", he said as he rested his hand on top of his stomach.

"I did, you did really well up there, and you looked really handsome", you smirked, twirling a curly lock that fell on his forehead.

It didn't take long before people started leaving, the night already mostly done with after Lando danced with you for a bit, noticing you seemed to also have spent most of your battery and wete in deep need of going back home. Bidding goodbye to everyone, you and Lando made your way to his car as he drove you back to his apartment where you had planned to spend the night.

Taking your heels off and putting on your slippers, you waited for Lando to lock the door and join you in the living room, thumbs fiddling with eachother.

Noticing your behaviour, Lando knocked on the door and approached you gently, "You alright, baby? You've been quiet since before we left the club. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Is your tummy upset? Or is it your head", he listed the possible causes of your discomfort.

He was however missing the point. It seemed you both missed it until now. For you at least anyway, he still didn't notice it.

Better late than never.

"I'm not judging your choices, it's not my place and definitely not on this... but... do you think we work?", you quesioned, your lips trembling slightly as all emotions seemed to come back to the front. How different you were, how his interests weren't similar to yours, how his happiness was something you were getting in the way of.

"What do you mean if we work?", Lando asked, genuinely not understanding your question.

"We're so different, Lando. Your lifestyle has nothing similar to mine, and I'm not even talking about money - that's a pretty obvious one and something not most humans can do anyway -, I'm talking about being the soul of the party, always ready to go on to the next night out and plan everything surrounding it. I don't do nightlife like you do, I barely do it at all. And that's okay for me as it is okay for you with what you do", you clarified.

"What are you saying, Y/N?", he inquired, a new tone of defensiveness in his voice.

"I'm saying we don't fit together like that", you let the words out, your heart shattering as each syllable came out.

"Y/N, that doesn't mean anything", Lando began, "sure, there are different interests that we don't have in common and that we don't share, but that doesn't make it not work between us! Why would it?", he argued, "it sounds to me like you're calling our relationship out because I like to go out and you don't and I don't agree with it".

"Lando, it hurts, it's painful", you stated, tears falling from your eyes at your admission.

It caught him off guard and his brain shifted somewhere else. To the promise he made you and the promise he made himself. He would never make you hurt and he would never be the cause of your pain.

"Y/N, baby, we can talk about this better when we've gathered our thoughts", he tried even though any suggestion he could make would potentially increase your pain. And he couldn't bear to do that.

"No one would ever see you and see me and say that we were good together, it just took us longer to see what they have noticed so long ago - so much so that they think you deserve someone else", you murmured.

"But I don't need anyone else's opinion when I have you", he mused softly, wanting to take your hand in his but you still fiddled with your thumbs before wiping your cheeks.

"Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth - your mins is telling you awful lies. I love you so much and I don't think like that", he tried to reason, "That's not what we are".

"I want to go home", you gulped, "I'm going to get an Uber", you announced, looking at a broken Lando.

"Can I drive you there, please?", he asked, himself feeling like prolonging the argument would only lead to worse but needing to make sure you felt he wouldn't give up, "I'd feel better being in charge of the car taking you home than anyone else at this time", he reasoned.

"You won't ask me anything else? Can we do it in silence?", you asked. The words had a bitter taste on your mouth like they didn't belong there. Chatting with Lando was one of your favourite things in the world, hearing his voice and his giggles, those were the best sounds ever known to man.

"Okay, if that's how you want it", Lando assured, grabbing his keys while you put your shoes back on along with your coat.

The drive to your apartment was agonisingly silent. Lando wanted to ask you where this left your relationship, you wanted to ask him if what he said was true.

"We're here", Lando announced, stopping the car and getting out, waiting for you to get out and meet him by the driver's seat door, "I- Y/N, is this goodbye?", he worked himself up to ask, "because I don't want that, we can talk about his and sort it out, please, this is what we do, love", he pleaded.

"Can we talk about it another day? I can't think straight tonight, and I don't want to say things that will hurt you because of that", you suggested.

"Sure", Lando sighed, "whenever you're ready. I love you, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, refraining from kissing your forehead even though that was all he wanted to do.

"Thank you, for this and for bringing me home, Lan, I love you", you looked back into his eyes.

He was hurt, too, and the last three words you said seemed to have brought anger to the mix as well. There was a grey hue and the sparkle was lost despite the moon glistening.

"Have a good night, baby, I love you more than words can say, and I will fight for you and for us, even if I'm the only one in the battlefield, I'll fight for both of us", he assured.

Part 2

[homesick4la]

closer — hamzahthefantastic

contains: 18+ content, mdni!!! losing virginity, fingering, inexperienced reader

a/n: this is like a part 2 to intimate so read that one first if u want lol also i did not proofread sorry

days had passed since the night hamzah had went down on you. days since he slipped his fingers right inside of you and made you suck them clean.

embarrassingly, it was all you could think about. all that occupied your mind was an overwhelming craving for more.

of course, you were nervous over the idea of losing your virginity. you couldn’t help but stress over the possibility of it going horribly wrong.

but since that night, you felt ready.

you just weren’t sure how to approach the situation. everytime you tried to mention it to hamzah, you backed out- feeling too awkward to explain to him how badly you wanted to take that next step with him.

but now, while your sat on his couch, watching him finish editing a video- the urge to admit how desperately you needed him was too strong to ignore.

you were completely infatuated with him. the way his finger clicked on the mouse so gently. the way he let out a frustrated sigh when making a mistake. each move he made and every sound that left his throat drove you absolutely insane.

“hamzah?” you question, still sat on the couch behind him.

“yeah?”

“you almost done?”

“almost- come sit with me while i finish up.” he said, turning his desk chair around and motioning to his lap.

you walk over to him and straddle his lap, placing your chin on his shoulder as he turns his chair back towards his desk.

you play with the curls at the nape of his neck while continues frantically typing on his keyboard. every so often, one of his hands gently caresses your back.

after a few minutes, you hear his typing start to slow. this is followed by the sound of him clicking away the various open browsers on his computer.

“all done.” he says, sounding relieved.

you sit up to face him.

“finally.” you smile and he presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“what’d you wanna do with the rest of the night? go to a movie? or we could go get ice cream- there’s that really good spot in downtown,”

“uhm i dunno, i thought we could stay here.” you reply shyly, praying he understands what you’re trying to imply despite the vagueness of your statement.

“okay, yeah. let’s stay in. did you wanna like order food or something?”

god you wish he could just read your mind.

“no, actually i wanted to talk to you about something.” you explain, already feeling nervous.

“oh- okay.” he replies, his brown eyes scanning your face.

“it’s embarrassing.” you hide your face, laying back on his shoulder.

“c’mon, you know you can tell me anything.” he rubs your back assuringly.

you lift your face once again, looking in his eyes before you speak.

“i’ve just been thinking about the other night, a lot.”

“baby, that’s not embarrassing,” he grins. “i’ve been thinking about it too,” he lays his hand softly on your cheek.

you can’t help but smile at him.

“yeah?” you question, earning an eager nod from hamzah. “you ever think about going all the way with me?” you asks, your voice low.

“of course, i do.” he answers, his voice just as low. you feel his chest start to rise and fall faster than before.

“i’m ready for it.” you place your hand on top of his hand on your cheek.

“are you sure?” he looks directly in your eyes as he asks you the question.

“yeah. if you don’t wanna do it right now though, that’s totally fine! we can do something else, one of the things you suggested-“ you ramble.

“no no no, i want to!” he cuts you off. “just wanna make sure you’re a hundred-percent sure.”

you respond by nodding before connecting your lips with his. you kissed him hungrily.

in an instant, his hands slid under your thighs and he gets up out of his desk chair- carrying you into his bedroom.

he lays you on his bed and immediately climbs over you, wasting no time to connect your lips once again. his hands roam your body aimlessly as your hands play with hem of his shirt before helping him get rid of it.

he pulls off your sweater and leaves sloppy kisses on your collar bone before reaching to unclip your bra.

“so beautiful,” he says in awe of the sight in front of him. he leans down, taking one nipple into his mouth before giving equal attention to the other.

the sensation of his mouth on you feels heavenly. you whimper and hamzah’s hands find their way to top of your jeans- fingers now fiddling with the button of them.

he helps you slide them down your legs and you kick them to the side before he removes his own jeans.

his fingers trace the band of your underwear and he pauses, “you doing okay?”

he was so worried about advancing too quickly, making you uncomfortable. he wanted everything to be perfect for you.

“i’m good. promise.” you nod and he attaches his mouth to yours once again.

you reach for the band of his boxers before his hand stops you.

“wait- gonna make you come first.” he kisses you again. “help you relax.”

you nod in response and he takes note of the way you spread your legs wider for him.

his fingers wander across the silky material of your underwear, pressing against the already wet fabric.

you whimper as his fingers stroke you up and down. the friction of your underwear feeling both intoxicating and infuriating. all you wanted was more, more, more.

“you like that?” he questions, already knowing the answer. he saw the way your chest quickly rose up and down. the way you bit your lip in attempt to contain your desperate noises.

you nod rapidly and you watch as the expression on his face transitions from slightly nervous to completely sure of himself.

a striking contrast from his usual awkward demeanor.

he couldn’t help but feel confident hovering over you. not when you were left breathless from his touch and utterly soaked without him even having to slip his hand under your panties.

“beg for it.” he grins, his fingers still stroking the outside of your underwear excruciatingly slow.

“what?” you breath out.

“beg for my fingers. tell me how much you want me to touch you right now.” the right side of his mouth lifts into a cocky smile.

he knows exactly how needy you are and you’re simply to caught up in it to be embarrassed.

“i want you so bad, hamzah. please, just- touch me.” you whimper.

that’s all it takes for him to be pulling down you underwear and pressing his thumb to your clit as one of his fingers slip inside of you.

at the same time, he leans down and connects his lips with yours. he kisses you urgently and soon enough his tongue is rhythmically moving with yours- matching the pace of his finger sliding in and out of you.

the moment a second finger enters you, you begin having trouble kissing him back as your left absolutely breathless.

noticing this, hamzah moves from your lips to the sweet spot on your neck. he sucks and nips at the skin in a manner that leaves you moaning uncontrollably.

“fuck my hand, baby.” he whispers against your neck.

you shyly start moving your hips, pushing them forward in sync with his fingers. you eventually grow more confident in your movements- shamelessly riding his fingers.

“atta girl.” he praises as you feel his lips turn to a smile against the skin of your neck.

you shut your eyes tightly- the feeling of his fingers deep inside of you leaving you in ecstasy.

with the added pressure of his thumb circling at your clit, you feel yourself coming completely undone.

he can tell your almost there when your movements turn frantic.

he continues kissing up the side of your neck, across your collarbone, all over your breasts.

amongst these kisses, he whispers praises and repeats your name as if he’s reciting a prayer.

this leaves you crying out and gasping for air as your orgasm fully takes over you.

he keeps his fingers in motion until your orgasm subsides. he then removes his fingers, still covered in your wetness, and brings them up towards your mouth.

he traces your bottom lip with both fingers before you instinctually part your lips, allowing him to push them into your mouth. you suck his fingers clean just as you had only a few days ago.

once you release them, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

he pulls away, pushing away the baby hairs that had fallen across your forehead.

“you drive me crazy y/n.” he says softly, his dark brown eyes staring into yours.

you smile at him before lifting your head up to kiss him.

“i want you so bad, hamzah.” you beg, seeking more of him. you were craving a more intimate connection.

“my needy girl”, he teases. “i’ll be right back.”

you watch as he walks to his bathroom, coming back with a foil condom wrapper in between his fingers.

“you’re a hundred-percent sure about this?” he questions once again.

“yes. hamzah, i’m sure.” you reassure him.

he slides off his boxers, revealing his erection. nerves arise in your stomach as he slips the ring of rubber over his thick length.

climbing back over you, he notices the nervous expression on your face.

“i’ll be gentle.” he kisses the top of your forehead, “and if it’s too much, you’re gonna tell me and we’ll stop, ‘kay?” he stares into your eyes, waiting for your response.

“okay.” you nod.

he fingers wrap around his shaft and he begins running his erection through your folds. you moan at the sensation.

he uses one hand to hold himself up while the other traces your arm soothingly.

when he pushes just the head of his erection inside of you, you’re left with slight discomfort due to him stretching you so wide.

you take deep breaths as he works his way inside of you, one inch at a time.

“fuck- you’re so tight.” he breaths out. “you okay?”

“yeah, yeah- just give me a second.” he remains still inside of you as he leaves sweet kisses across your collarbone.

once you’ve adjusted to feeling so full, you let him know to start moving.

before pulling out and pushing back into you, he slides the hand laying on your arm to your hand, raising your arm above your head and interlocking your fingers together.

his thrusts start off slow and smooth but as he feels your body relax underneath him, he begins increasing his pace.

soon enough, your bodies colliding together quickly. the room filled with the sound of your skin hitting and the squeaking of the bed beneath you.

you never could’ve imagined that you’re first time would feel so good, you always pictured your nerves getting in the way of your pleasure.

but with hamzah, it was so easy to feel comfortable, to just let go and enjoy the moment.

“fuck- you feel so good y/n.” he whimpers. “you’re doing so good, baby.”

all you can do is nod and let out a shuddered sigh in response.

with each thrust, it feels like hamzah gets deeper inside you, hitting places that make you feel like you’re floating.

“i’m so close, hamzah.” you cry, feeling your second orgasm build.

“i’m not gonna last much longer either.” he answers.

he unlocks his fingers from yours and reaches down to rub your clit.

this puts you over the edge, you’re a breathless, whining mess as you squeeze your inner walls around him.

this causes his cock to twitch inside you and a choked groan to leave his lips. you weave your fingers through his dark curls as he comes.

witnessing pleasure wash over his face is one of the most memorizing sights you’ve ever seen.

he collapses on top of you. his body warm and sweaty- your damp skin sticks together.

you run your nails along his back, feeling the muscles of his shoulders relax.

“how was it?” he questions, his head still buried in the crook of your neck.

“it was perfect hamzah.”

he hums pleasantly against your neck. you lie together for a while.

you smile to yourself, enjoying the moment. his skin on yours, his body weighing on you, his lips smushed against your neck.

you had never felt closer to him.

you were completely encapsulated by his warmth, wishing it would last forever.

a/n: i never know how to end a fic lol also why is writing smut so embarrassing i am cringing at the fact that i just wrote this…lol..hope u guys like it tho… k bye muah

[shhslayer]

So, I can officially say, Gem is probably the most adaptive to the wildcard, it basically means nothing to her

Session one: basically stays default height the whole time

Session two: instantly figures out the eating thing and easily adapted whenever it randomized

Session three: one of four people who didn't die to their snail

Session four: instantly figures out that everything is going to be extremely fast by the end

Session five: one of the only two people who got no questions wrong

Session six: wasn't even her biggest problem, it was people, who also weren't really threats

Session seven: literally got watcher abilities and gathered useful information and to even kill her, it needed four attempts, an obsidian box, a teleporter, an obsessed with killing her Pearl, a red bigb to start it, and a beast boy green Scott to finish her since no one else would, which he then just says is "freeing her from the shackles of green" and Gem's first thought is "I get to kill so many people now!" Also, Gem still almost escaped before Scott took over, so if she were a bit faster with the water, she could have very well survived that too

Episode 8: Honestly, she did so well, and I've already talked about how well she handled the wildcards before, and considering this was just repeat wildcards, you get the point, I wish she won, but I'm glad someone in the family won at least, now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to exterminate an entire race of vexes

I was making addendums to this list two days after whenever each session uploaded so I could keep track of how well she handled everything so I would edit this from time to time, but obviously, the season has come to a close, so no more edits

[summercreolefanfictioner]

all on my tongue I want it || ua! touya x recovery girl! y/n

(shoujo touya todoroki save us all)

summary: in which you saved your first kiss for a certain cremation quirk user

note: I didn't edit anything bcos I wrote this on a whim

Honestly, it was a miracle you got into UA in the first place. While there were probably more students who held more promising skills that could battle against villains, yours was just the typical. Well, not really; it could be a valuable asset in the least. After all, you inherited a healing quirk similar to Recovery Girl. Many people thought your healing lies with your kisses, but the truth is, it was a lot different than what people make it out to be.

You see, you can heal people with just a touch, hence why some would constantly try to take hold of a finger or two. This made you alert and conscious of people around you, though, because sometimes, some of them would just make an excuse to harass you. And it's so unfair considering how you're just a girl thriving in this world full of scums who apparently have no idea about invasion of privacy and spacial distance.

And on the topic of your healing kisses, well... let's say, it was your most powerful shot. Your healing kisses can heal people much faster than your touch can do. Heck, it can even stop someone from an almost death (depending on the circumstances, of course). You have only tried your kisses to your parents when you were young, so when some boys of your age would try to take your most precious golden kiss in disguise of a bruised knee or a bloody cut, you immediately back away and wish this wasn't the quirk bestowed upon you.

The downside of this quirk was painful though. You can't tell anyone that aside from healing the wound, you take the pain away when you heal them. So, let's say, if you heal your friend who scraped her knee from falling down the stairs, you manage to close up the wound. However, you will feel the pain she felt when she fell down and the sting of the bruise left on her. Some of the pain were minimal; some of them rendered you to sleep for days until you were also healed.

Todoroki Touya was another different story in your life, and you were foolish enough to like the oldest son of the number 2 pro hero, Endeavor. You two were in different classes (obviously) and the first time you watched him in the sports festival, you were captivated with the way he fought despite being so foul-mouthed and sarcastic yet nonchalant as he stood against his opponent and burned him in one go. In your head, it was all, "The movement was so smooth. He watched the opponent carefully before landing his mark without burning too much. He controlled his fire even though it's a lot stronger than his father's. So amazing." And that was how you found yourself, constantly trying to secretly regain your breathing whenever you pass by him in the hallway, pretending you didn't harbor those feelings of crush for him and how you got it so bad you swore you could die of heart attack if one day he touched you or stared at you so intense with those blue eyes.

Then come one day, you got involved with him. You were in the school garden, reading one of those books about enhancing your healing quirk when you secretly saw a fight break out between him and this one senpai with his friends. The reason? Touya was arrogant because Endeavor was his father, and apparently, kind of stole his girlfriend (or at least, according to his claim because Touya said he has no idea who the girl was anyway). Of course, Touya had the upperhand, but you could see how small patches of burnt skin started showing around. That's when you knew the downside of his quirk despite the fact that he still carried the same ice quirk that his mother had.

When senpai and his friends were distracted, you seized this chance to grab him and you two ran as far and as fast as you could despite his protest that you let him go, hiding in one of those empty science labs. Suddenly, Touya noticed the burns earlier were gone. It was like his skin was brand new. That's when you quickly pulled away.

"Sorry, I..." you stumbled for words. "I noticed your skin was burning due to your fire so I healed it."

Touya narrowed his eyes in confusion, scratching his head. "Healed?" he repeated, analyzing what you said before making a face of realization. He heard his classmates gush about this one cute girl from Class C with a healing quirk. They went on to say, "They said she can heal just by a touch, and her best power move would be a kiss." Of course, there were perverts who hypothesized, performing intercourse with her would be the best healing method. Gah, how disgusting they were.

"You didn't have to bother," he muttered in annoyance, gritting his teeth as he looked away. Touya was prideful, and he wasn't weak enough to let a medic girl like you help him.

You breathed out in pain, feeling the burning sensation he had earlier. Gosh, it was so hot you were thankful it didn't mar your skin. When he noticed your expression, he asked worriedly, "Did I burn you?"

You shook your head, assuring him. "N-Not really. This is just a side effect of my quirk. I can feel the pain you felt from your wound. That's all. I won't get your scars earlier or what," you explain with a smile. "I guess you endured all this before you could use your quirk, right? That's so brave of you, Todoroki-kun. I wish I was that strong."

That was how you caught his eye, and since then, he has been teasing you nonstop and trying to touch you like how a boyfriend does to his girlfriend (not because he was in dire need of healing.) You could even say he had claimed you publicly and made sure no one would dare touch you. He was a menace, and if he found out someone tried to take advantage of your quirk or you used your quirk on someone else, he will raise hell. Like literally. His cremation quirk wasn't made for him for no reason. He would go on to say that you were his, and you almost died of cardiac arrest when you heard him yell that for the first time at the hallway. Yes, the same place where everyone could spread gossip on how Endeavor's oldest son made the medic girl from Class C his girlfriend.

You liked the attention obviously. After all, you fell for him so bad that even his annoying cheap tricks to touch or hug you so close were getting you to have those heavy drumbeats in your chest and the way the butterflies would come swarming. He was a criminal, stealing your heart like that, and you were committing sin by just indulging this attention and meekly telling him not to tease you so much or let you go even though you yourself was not pulling away from his grasp. Your hypocritical self wanted more of Todoroki Touya that even his mischievous and cunning person was enough to make you swoon.

But mostly, he would trick you into kissing him just because he found out you purposely did not give your first kiss to anyone. You were quick to retort that first kisses were special, and you didn't want to give your first one just for medical reasons. "I want my first kiss to be romantic," you mumbled shyly, cheeks blushing. Gah, the ground should swallow you whole now. "I want it to happen while I'm on a date with the person I love, or even during our wedding."

"That long?" Touya complained. "You'd be a granny if you keep that up."

"I don't care! My lips are off limits until I say so."

Touya snickered, ruffling your hair and purposely messing it even though you spent hours doing it just so you would look cute for him. You were cute alright. You just didn't know his emotionally constipated teenage ass was jealous that the others were looking at you so much.

"T-Todoroki-kun! My hair!"

"Well, I wouldn't mind if you were a granny, Y/N." He stuck out his tongue teasingly, his silver piercing peeking through. "As long as you're mine."

You could only pout, realizing he wasn't that serious at all. You like him, but his teasing jokes aren't equivalent of real love confessions. You needed to hear him say he likes you in a serious way, not in this kind of joking way because if you could easily believe everything, then it would only be a recipe for a broken heart. You didn't want to nurse a broken heart, after all.

This charade went on until third year, and there were instances when you almost gave in, the cherry flavor of your lip balm fresh on your lips as he almost kissed you for many times yet you were interrupted. It was either one of you wasn't able to get the timing right or someone dared interrupt the romantic setting or you would suddenly get nervous and realize you weren't ready at all. You would miss your chance and get depressed you wished you could've went ahead and confessed first. This way, he would be aware because things were getting too real you were in this delusion like "maybe he really likes me too but is just shy so he jokes around?"

That was all until—

"Pro Hero Medic Girl. You are requested to assist in [location]. Pro Hero Medic Girl. You are requested to assist in [location.]"

It was the usual greeting of the intercom as you readied yourself for the worst case scenario. There's a killer villain on the loose, someone who had a grudge and wanted to destroy the world with him. As you prepared for the worse, you felt your heart grow heavy at the next words.

"Pro Hero Medic Girl. You are requested to assist Pro Hero Frost Flame. He doesn't have much longer."

Frost Flame. It was Touya's hero name.

You quickly rushed to his side and learned the villain stabbed him in the stomach as he made his final hit. Touya still got the victory, but at what cost? There was still a chance for him, but the thing was, the nearest hospital was far from your current location, and Touya already needed assistance or he won't be able to make it.

He was lying on the ground, almost lifeless as he tried to stop the bleeding in futile attempts with the ice quirk he has yet to master. You couldn't afford to lose him, not when you haven't told him your feelings. He knew you wanted the romantic first kiss, the fireworks, the warm sunset, the works, and everything. But what good would all they be if he was gone, though? Touya was more important than your romantic dream.

"I will kiss him," you announced to the pro heroes boldly. "My quirk will give him life, but we'll need to take him to the hospital quick afterwards."

They stepped aside to give room for you as you laid Touya's head on your lap, his consciousness almost fading away as he could only see a blurry vision of you caressing his face gently. A few teardrops from your eyes fell on his skin, and you tried to calm yourself. This was no time for sappy moments. You have to save him. You can save all the words later.

"Y/N..." Touya tried to make out your name, his voice hoarse as you took his hand in yours. "D-Don't..."

"It's okay now," you whispered. "Just let me."

It felt like time has stopped to witness this moment, your lips finally crashing down against his softly. You weren't given experience but you made sure to put passion in it so you would be able to convey your feelings for him. It made your heart race the moment you felt him try to reciprocate your deed but to no avail. It was fine for you, though. He's the one who needed healing, not you.

"Y-Y/N..."

"I know this is not the right time, but I had to," you explained to him, his head still on your lap as you kissed his forehead, "and it's because I love you, Touya-kun."

And after a few moments, you felt your vision going hazy, the stabbing sensation in your stomach growing deep as you felt the burning pain. It was completely draining your energy, trying to hold out as Touya coughed out to signify his sign of life.

Everything went black.

------

You woke up to a breathtaking, orange sunset view from your window after 3 days in the hospital, and when you look to your side, Touya was there, sitting on the couch and donning a straight and serious face. Judging from the way he moved towards your and sat on your bedside, it seemed that he has already healed from the damage he took from his previous battle.

"Todoroki-kun!" you greeted in relief. "You're okay now."

You expected him to smile and tease you as usual, but somehow, he looked kind of bitter and regretful. You were confused. Shouldn't be happy at least? You kissed him. You professed your love to him finally. Why was he looking at you like that?

Then it dawned on you. Perhaps he felt indebted to return it back. Maybe it was just you imagining things. Maybe he really didn't feel the same. Maybe he just went along because of the moment, not because of you. If that was the case, you would really be devastated.

"Shouldn't you be calling me by my name?" Touya corrected with an angry tone. "You called me 'Touya' back there."

You blushed so hard. So he remembered. "Uhh... I—"

"And your first kiss?" He finally mentioned the topic. Touya wanted to avoid it, but he needed to settle this once and for all. He knew there will come a time when you'll heal someone in need and experience the same thing over and over. The best thing he could do was take this chance. "I thought you said you'll only give it during a romantic date with someone you love or during your wedding."

"Yes, I—"

"Then why did you give it to me at the battlefield?" Touya winced at his harsh tone, reminding himself that he was speaking to you, and that the last thing he wanted was hurt you and let this drag on. "You could've made your dream happen. I could've made them all happen. You didn't have to—Fuck!" He loathed everything. Why did everything turn out this way? "You didn't have to share my pain and sleep here for 3 days!"

So that's what it was. He was worried you wouldn't make it out alive given how grave his wounds were. You bet he barely got any sleep and he wouldn't leave your side until you awaken because he was worried about your wellbeing. And deep down, maybe he was thinking he missed his chance to confess. You wanted to be delusional. That must be it. He was not giving his usual pranks. There was no sarcasm. He was being the boyish Touya that no one knew about.

You held his hand. "It's true. I've always wanted that romance dream," she affirmed then added, "but when I heard about your condition, I just couldn't—" the tears were now flowing, the waterworks you held back were showing itself to him, "I couldn't imagine a life where you're gone too soon. You can't leave me like that, not when I haven't told you how much I've fallen for you since our sports festival during our first year."

You felt his fingers wiping your tears, trying his damnest to be cautious or he might burn your skin. Touya hated it when you cry, after all. "Is that true? You like me? You love me enough to give your first kiss to me?"

"You idiot!" You pouted. "At this stage, and I even confessed to you!" You bet the other pro heroes at that time must have heard your declaration of love. Maybe Endeavor would find out about his son's love life sooner than expected, after all.

Now the smug smile was back on his face, and you wanted to wipe it off so bad. The nerve of him. "I just wanna make sure because there's no taking backsies, Y/N."

"Jerk."

"You love this jerk unfortunately," he joked, finally getting close to you as he kissed your forehead.

This wasn't the most picture perfect scenario. You were on your hospital bed and he was sitting near you, his hand caressing your cheek as the sunset turned into a more vivid orange in the background. It was warm, or maybe it was his quirk? You didn't bother knowing as you noticed how he flushed so hard but did not shy away from you like how you would expect a teenage boy in love would do. This moment would do. You just hoped for the best.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, leaning hus face towards yours as he rubbed his thumb across your lips. "Let me give you a taste of your own medicine."

Ah. You were in heaven when he kissed you.

PS. Fuyumi took a secret picture of you kissing Touya while Natsuo covered Shouto's eyes and mouth.

tagging: @rueclfer @crookedherringcolorclod @suksatoru @skiiyoomin @allurearia @m-4399 (bcos I wanna spread dabi love huhu)

[sammyluvr]

hold me, it’s enough — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, descriptions of physical assault, small injuries, blood, pet names (baby, honey), barely edited, 1.6K words. requested !

prompt : “who did this to you?”

the cruelest part about tonight is the way you have to call sam to come pick you up, like you’re some child who’s gotten sick at school. it’s embarrassing and makes you feel guilty because your call woke him up. he’d gone back to the motel early to sleep after a long hunt; took the impala after dean disappeared with a girl, leaving you alone in the bar with your own car in the parking lot.

he answers after four rings, voice a little husky from sleep as he says your name questioningly into the speaker.

“hey, sam,” you respond, sighing quietly to yourself, “sorry to wake you, but i– i can’t drive myself back to the motel… any chance you could pick me up?”

you hear the rustle of sheets from the other end of the line, and you assume it’s sam sitting up. “yeah, of course,” he agrees easily, already up and looking for socks to put on. you can’t see the light frown on his face as he picks up on all of the little nuances in your voice. “you don’t sound drunk. baby, is everything alright?”

you figured he’d ask, but the expectation doesn’t remedy your hesitation to answer. “i… sort of got into a fight. hit my head real hard and i don’t think i should be driving.”

the split second after your answer is enough to show you sam’s surprise. “jesus, honey, are you okay?” he asks, worry making his voice thick.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. promise,” you reassure him. he takes a moment to consider your words; whether you’re lying for his sake or if you’re actually okay. your voice is clear and, though a little tired, sounds like you’re just fine. you don’t seem dizzy or out of sorts, and sam takes that as a good sign considering it was your head that you hit. so, he relaxes just a touch as he climbs into the impala. you hear the car door opening and shutting through the phone speaker.

“so, you got into a bar fight?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice. he’s still worried about you, but that wasn’t news he expected to hear tonight, or really any night at all. sure, you never back down from a fight, but you’re certainly not the type to start one either.

you roll your eyes a little at his tone. “sort of. the guy deserved it. i elbowed him in the guts and he shoved me. he looked utterly terrified when i stood back up and he saw the look in my eyes,” you describe, humor finding its way into your voice at the end.

sam wants to give a little laugh at your joke, tell you that he can imagine the man running away with his tail between his legs just from the look in your eye, but he’s still stuck on the fact that he shoved you. on the fact that he did something that warranted you to resort to physical violence. 

he clenches his jaw before asking, “did he try to touch you?” his voice is low as he presses down on the gas harder.

wishing your comment about the man’s scared look would have been successful in distracting sam, you sigh. sometimes, sam is too damn smart and he thinks too damn much.

“he got a little handsy, but i took care of it,” you reassure him. “it’s okay. pretty sure i scared him off so bad he left the bar.”

sam grits his teeth, trying not to react too strongly in a way he knows you won’t like. “i’m gonna beat his sorry ass.” he settles for angry, but not too much, and not even possible since the fucker’s already gone.

“yeah, i know,” you sigh into the phone.

the bar’s only ten minutes from the hotel, and sam gets there faster than that. he walks into the establishment, eyes scanning the crowded place to find your familiar silhouette seated at the bar, your left elbow resting on the counter and holding a rag and plastic bag filled with ice to your head. he rushes towards you, swiftly maneuvering between tables and moving bodies.

he says your name a few steps before he reaches you, as to not startle you, placing a worried hand on your shoulder blade when you turn to look at him. he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. there’s drying blood streaking down the side of your face, and your eyes betray that you’re much more shaken by the incident than you were letting on over the phone. he curses your talent in sounding much more okay than you really are. his jaw clenches and his eyes are worried and angry.

“who did this to you?” his voice is rough, the words forced out through gritted teeth as he fights to stay gentle. you sigh at his words, able to tell immediately how angry he’s feeling.

“he’s gone now,” you say gently, secretly relishing in how protective he is of you. you instantly feel safer, much more secure with him in front of you. “i’m okay,” you say, knowing he needs to hear those words. “i promise. you know that head wounds always look worse than they are. and i wasn’t lying when i said that my glare scared him completely off.”

sam wants to tell you that he’s going to find this sorry excuse of a man, that he’s going to yell at him and hurt him and show him how horrible of a mistake he made by messing with you, but he won’t say all of that. though he’ll certainly think it. he is thinking it. but he knows that’s not what you care to hear, knows that anger is not the face you wish for him to wear.

“i believe that,” he finally settles on saying, voice softening just a little. “let’s get out of here. clean you up. there’s blood all over your face.”

you nod. another time you might quip ‘i know. it’s my face, i can feel it.’ today, you just let him place his hand on the small of your back and lead you out to the familiar black car. neither of you have to say anything to agree that you’ll come back for your own car in the morning.

sam’s silence is large, and yours is heavy. they stretch alongside each other, running out on the road with the spinning tires and escaping through the half open windows so that when sam sits you down on the edge of your shared bed, they’ve almost run out. each silence lasts until he sits next to you, first aid kit in hand, and he gently cups your face to turn it towards him. your eyes are a little shiny, and his face softens.

“i’m sorry this happened,” he whispers. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.” that’s when it hits you how guilty he’s been feeling this whole time, thinking about how nothing would’ve happened if he stayed.

“no,” you shake your head. “no, sam, this wasn’t your fault.” your voice is full of conviction as you say this, because it’s true. “you couldn’t have known this would happen. you only left because you know that i can take care of myself, and i did. i took care of it, and it’s over now. and i’m okay.”

“honey,” he chides, wishing you’d admit to him how you really feel. though he might start crying himself if he has to keep looking at you with so much blood on your face, so he takes the wet cloth he prepared in the bathroom and begins to gently wipe at your bloodied skin. the redness comes off easily, but he still hates the sight of it on the white cloth. “just because we deal with monsters and demons and horrible shit all the time doesn’t mean that creepy, pushy men are any less gross and scary than they really are. just because you can deal with it, doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

you purse your lips, then swallow against tears. the feeling of that man’s hand grabbing your wrist hard is still so visceral, and the way that you’d been so taken by surprise that his strength sent you sprawling to the floor still makes you feel sort of embarrassed. and sam’s soft hands and gentle reassurances are so contrasting, so good to you that it makes you a little emotional. 

unconsciously, your own hand drifts to the opposite wrist where the man grabbed you, the sleeve of your dress shirt wrinkled and skin tender from how strong his grip was. the movement catches sam’s eye, and his gaze darkens once again when he realizes how you were grabbed. you see the anger and guilt resurface on his features and you gently grab his wrist instead.

with confidence, you guide his hand to yours and hold it there, looking him right in the eye. your eyes swim with faith and sincerity as you wordlessly tell him that you trust his hands on you, on the places where you’re bruised and bloody.

“it’s okay,” you say, voice hushed and assured. “this… it’s enough, sam. it’s all i need.” just these few words tell him that you don’t care that he wasn’t there when it happened, that his care and comfort in this moment are enough to make it better. that his understanding and worry and protectiveness still mean so much. that things happen, but you’ll be okay so long as he’s there to hold you in the aftermath.

so he does just that. he cleans and dresses your wound, and holds you close on the edge of the bed until you ask to go to sleep. then he holds you under the covers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and whispering sweet things, until there’s nothing but soft darkness and his touch left, and you’re asleep.

[gilverrwrites]

Against The Wall (/Bathroom Door)

Pairing: Dean Winchester/AFAB! Reader

Feminine pronouns used.

Plot: Dean and the reader are unable to keep their hands off each other during dinner. They sneak off together for a 'quickie' in the restroom.

Rating: M/18+

This is a re-written/edited fic I wrote and posted on a now deleted tumblr. If I recall correctly, it was originally a request for 'against the wall' sex.

Please remember: to be kind to yourself.

Content: Swearing, (really cheesy) flirting, established romantic/sexual relationship, nipple play, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, semi-public, clothed sex, size difference, biting, (non-sexual) peeing.

Excerpt: "Give me rough and ready any day.”  “Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

“Why are we staying here? Why didn’t we check in to that place down the road?” You groaned. You couldn’t help but feel like a sore thumb, as you needlessly examined the well-dressed wait staff and their high society patrons. If the side eyes, and tight smiles they shot back at you were anything to go by, they also thought your table stood out.

Attempting to avert your gaze, you glanced over the menu and had to stifle a gasp. Tired and sore from the hunt, you’d collectively decided that it would be faster and easier to just dine at the hotel’s restaurant, but $37 for a burger, FRIES NOT INCLUDED! Daylight robbery! In hindsight, you wished you’d bothered to walk the extra 10 minutes to the nearest greasyspoon, just on principle. Besides, the motel down the road was next door to a pizza joint, double whammy. “It would have been a helluva lot cheaper.”

“Because it was full up. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate somewhere a little more sophisticated.” Dean replied. If the grin on his face, and the hand on your thigh was anything to go by, he didn’t really care where he was, he was just happy for the food and the company. And to be done with the ghouls you’d been hunting down all week. He winked at you as he leaned in and snatched the menu from you, and you giggled when his brows shot up. Likely also outraged at the price of a burger, WITHOUT FRIES.

“Deano, sophisticated; we, are, not.” You stated as matter-of-factly as you could, trying to ignore his hand as it inched higher and higher up your leg.

“Speak for yourself Sweetheart.” He quipped, locking his eyes with yours and wiggling his eyebrows, “I’ve always had a taste for the finer things in life.”

“HA.” You deadpanned, but he didn’t budge. You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a purr. “Well, not me. Give me rough and ready any day.”

“Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

You would have leaned in to kiss him, had the sound of Sam clearing his throat, signifying his discomfort, not distracted you both. Embarrassed at having forgotten his presence you both leaned back in your chairs. Dean promptly placed both his hands on the table and shot Sam a very unserious thrown.

“Sorry, Sam.” You extended a brief apology and the three of you sat in awkward silence until someone came to take your drink orders.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room.” You announced shortly after the waiter had left. “10 bucks says this place has attendants.” You joked as you stand from the table and walk away.

“Wait up, I gotta take a leak too!” Dean declared. “If they come back for food, just order for his. No green shit.” He instructed his brother before wrapping an arm over your shoulder and following very, very close behind you. You really did need to pee, but if Dean had something else in mind, you wouldn’t object.

Together you manoeuvred your way through the labyrinth of busy tables and ‘atmospherically’ dim hallways until you found a vestibule of doors labelled ‘la toilettes’.

Dean held you at arms-length as he poked his head through one and looked around. From what you could see, it seemed to be a single occupancy bathroom. “Score!” Dean turned to face you as he backed the rest of his body into ‘la toilette’, pulling you in with him. “Plus, no attendant, you owe me 10 bucks.”

The moment you heard the lock click behind you he pounced, arms either side of you, fingers against your scalp, caging you between his firm chest and the door. Your lips crashed together; a shiver ran up your spine as he groaned into your mouth. It wasn’t a soft kiss, it was harsh, demanding, just how you liked it. You snaked your hand under his shirt and ghosted your fingers up until they rested on his chest, there you could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

Briefly, you felt high on the effect you had on him. The moment abruptly ended when he snatched your waist, twisting you around, and pushing you face first against the cold wood.

In this new position, you could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your ass, instinctively you reached an arm back to rub against him.

“F-fuck.” Dean spluttered, grinding into your open palm. “You’re so sexy.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You replied, “But can we get a move on please.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He rasped, before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your shoulder. Strong hands begin roaming your body. One hand skirts along the curves of your upper body before gliding back up, beneath your shirt, under your bra and begins squeezing at your breast. His calloused fingers pinch at your sensitive nipple, rolling it between the tips of his fingers.

His bite softens, and his tongue flicks against the tender skin before he begins to ghost his lips over your neck, kissing, licking, sucking, marking. Meanwhile, his other hand deftly works on your belt, whipping it open in no time, he nabs the hem of your jeans and yanks down, forcing them down to your knees, underwear following soon after.

You sucked in a breath and arched your back against him when you felt a finger begin running against your slit. A second finger quickly joined, and you withered at the feel of his coarse digits splitting your lips open. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit, sending a shockwave through your body, two fingers gently prodded at your entrance, but he didn’t push in straight away.

Needlessly you rocked against his hand, hoping to garner some friction against your clit, trying to sink yourself onto his fingers, but you just couldn’t quite hit the right spot.

“Dean stop!” You whined. “I need you.”

“Need me?” He chuckled, his hot breath tickling the back of your neck. You knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face, and he was lucky you were too needy to care. “Need me to what?”

“Need you inside me.” You whispered back to him, cheeks ablaze. “Need you to fuck me.”

You felt your hole slowly spread open as his fingers inched in, stretching you around them, but no sooner had it started when he halted again.

“Dean, please!” You begged, and seemingly that was exactly what he needed to hear.

Within seconds his long fingers were buried inside you. Leaving no time to adjust he started pumping in and out, scissoring your insides, while the heel of his hand massaged your sweet spot, both actions sending an unbearable pressure through your body.

It wasn’t long before he slid in a third, and you were seeing stars, panting and rutting as a tight knot surged in your core, your climax was fast approaching, tittering on the edge when Dean abruptly pulled himself from you.

An exasperated cry leaves your lips as you attempt to reach for him, to pull him back but you’re barely able to brush your fingers against his arm. Accepting failure, you spin around to face him, ready to pout at him, to demand an explanation but before you open your mouth his hands are cupping your thighs. He lifts you off your feet, forcing your arched back against the door once again. With some shuffling he managed to bring your knees up, hooking your ankles over his shoulders, his face embedded in your concealed cleavage.

“Hold still.” He instructs, balancing your weight between one hand and the door, as he makes quick work of his belt, jeans, and boxers. You bite your lip, repressing any instinct to wither or jerk as his cock springs free.

“Ready?” He asks, his half-lidded, lusty green eyes gaze up at you as he positions himself at your entrance.

“Ready, and very, very eagerly waiting.” You confirm.

You suck in a breath as he enters you all at once, relaxing his grip on your body slightly so you sink down, taking every single inch of his shaft.

“Fuck.” He shudders against your body, his eyes rolling back already. His voice to low and guttural. “You feel so good. So fucking wet.”

Hands gripped tight against the wall for support, ankles firmly angled against his shoulders, you roll your body, grinding your pussy up and down his cock. His fingers dig tight into your thighs, surely leaving bruises as he savours the feeling.

“Fuck me, Dean.” You plead, rocking on his dick once more. “Need you to fuck me.”

“How could I say no to that.” He groans, adjusting his grip on you, slipping his hands up until they’re wrapped tight around the back of your knees. He slowly leans back, sliding his cock out until only the tip remains inside, before brutally slamming back in. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, slow, hard, and so fucking deep.

If he registers the creak of the old wood supporting your back, he clearly didn’t care. Neither of you had really made an effort to disguise what you were doing, why start now?

You were soon twitching at the feel of each thrust, murmuring his name. You didn’t expect to last long after he’d brought you so close once already, and you were right. He rebuilt that tension almost instantly, you felt dizzy, hot and wet. Barely able to feel anything but the throbbing, burning heat between your legs. With one last strangled moan, you tightened around him as you reached your climax.

Dean soon followed behind, the feel of your cunt tightening around his dick setting him off. His muscles clenched around your body, and his pace slowed as he released inside you, grunting with each spurt.

Flushed and panting you both remained in your positions as you came back down. Cum began to seep out of you as Dean softens.

“That was….” Dean pursed his lips as he searched for the right word. A smile spreads across his lips as he seemingly finds it. “That was, awesome.”

“That was awesome.” You reiterated as you began lowering your body. Dean's firm hands steadied your feet return to the floor. He reached down to pull your jeans up for you, but you stopped him, shooing his hands away.

“I really do need to pee!” You answered his puzzled look as you waddled over to the toilet.

“Right!” He laughed, as he pulled up his own trousers. “Plus, you should always pee after sex, right?”

You nodded affirmatively as you did your business. There was something weirdly intimate actually urinating in front of your boyfriend without shame. You really did have nothing to hide, he knew every gross detail.

“We should head back out there.” You said as you finished up. Readjusting your clothes and washing your hands. “Sam will probably think we fell in or something.”

“Nah, he may look it, but he's not that dumb.” Dean joked. “He better have ordered something good, I need more than rabbit food after that.”

“Agreed! Oh, and Dean?”

“Yeah, babe?” He answered as he drapes his arm over you.

You press your head into his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. “Round two after dinner?”

“If I ever say no to that, I want you to shoot me.”

[dwaynedelight]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

With my blood, I’ll find your love.

Dwayne (The Lost Boys) x Female (Human) Reader

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ readers only! Unprotected sex, daddy kink, p & v sex.

MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3,285

Authors note: This was in my drafts for a longgg time enjoy my dwayne family <3! (Not edited)

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•



The boys had went off into the night in search for unfortunate souls.

It was naive of you to sneak off to the boardwalk all alone without the supervision of your boyfriend, if he found out about your escape, no doubt this would be the last time you'd ever step foot outside.

You'd always been rebellious, and that was a flaw Dwayne aimed to fix, he wished you'd be more obedient. He didn't understand why you had to test his patience so much, all he wanted was for you to let him take care of you, protect you, and please you, but he couldn't do that with your disobedience. You were fully aware of what Dwayne wanted and you truly did want all he said he'd do for you, but you also wanted freedom.

Dwayne remained delightful until he became like a shadow stalking your every move, you wanted to believe he meant well because you were completely enamoured by him, but lately it wasn't feeling like he really cared about your feelings.

Though the consequences of your actions were evident, that didn't stop you from stepping foot out of that dark depressing cave. You had made it all the way to the brightly lit busy boardwalk by feet, this was the perfect place to remain hidden.

Your heeled boots thudded against the wooden floor as you scaped the scene. You were overwhelmed with how much there was to do, you felt free at last! Finally you could have a night by yourself free from Dwayne.

The smell of popcorn filled your nostrils as you walked by a concession stand, your eyes watched as parents and kids waited in line to get treats, a teenage couple stood at the front as the employee handed them some cotton candy.  You smiled. Cotton candy! Exactly what you needed.

You'd gotten in the long line patiently waiting all because you wanted cotton candy. "Hey beautiful" a voice called out huskily from behind. Your body came to a halt, immediately turning to meet the voice.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to frighten you" They apologized.

You sighed with relief, a tall handsome man with dark long curly hair stood before you. He wore an aged leather jacket, silver jewelry, and skin-tight leather pants. He was intriguing, to say the least. 

You smiled. "No worries."

You had moved up to the front of the line faster than you'd expected. The employee had interrupted your conversation with the curly-haired man asking what you wanted. "Can I have some cotton candy?" you asked the young man. "That'll be 2.50" You nodded reaching for your purse.

"There you go," The man behind you said as he reached to give the guy the money.

"No you don't have to do that" You shook your head, but it was already too late the employee had took the money and handed you the cotton candy.

You sighed a "Thank you."

"Not a problem" He smiled. You didn't want to admit it but he was really handsome, and you couldn't help but notice his rockstar appearance. "I didn't catch your name" He replied waiting for your response.

"Im y/n" you smiled.

"That's a pretty name i'm stephen, may I ask what such a beautiful girl is doing here all alone?" You couldn't help but blush and you scoulded yourself for it.

"I just wanted to get some cotton candy." You laughed, pulling apart the pink fluffy candy.

"Do you have any other plans tonight?" He asked with a smirk. "Not really but I have to get back somewhere in a bit"  You sighed, It was true you didn't have much time left.

"Well if you'd like you could come watch me and my band play" His answer was smug and seemed confident that you'd accept. "What kind of band?" You asked thinking of the offer.

As you looked up to meet his eyes, your heart dropped. You had caught sight of a tall figure you knew far to well. Dwayne. He was standing about 30 feet away by the carousel.

His eyes were set on something else. "Fuck" you muttered, the cotton candy had slipped right through your hands.

Unbeknownst to you Dwayne had already been hot on your trail. Paul had snitched you out.

He had followed his prey down to the boardwalk when he saw you standing in line at the consetion stand, the blonde smirked already eager to tell his brother about this new founded information.

Dwayne wanted to believe paul was lying, for your own good. You knew better, he thought. His excuses for you came clashing down on him like daggers as he stepped foot on the boardwalk.

When dwayne's eyes focused on you he was prepared to let this little incident go, he wanted to be reasonable until a man came into view and you didn't push him away or ignore him you entertained him, smiling at that smug son of a bitch. He wanted to rip his body apart until there were only scraps left of him right in front of the entire crowd. He searched through the crowd, debating for a mere second what he should do. Rip your skull or his, maybe even both?

You must've saw him in the shadows, because you had made a run for it. He laughed menacingly, that's cute. You think you stand a chance against the immortal angry vampire?

Your mind raced just as fast as your feet could run. His voice filled your thoughts, he was calling out your name laughing at you. Taunting your fear, he loved every second of this. Watching as you ran across the beach frantic, your heartbeat pounding right in his ears. His presence right behind you like a shadow, yet every-time you looked back no one was there.

Dwayne's laughs echoed in your head so loud you started to wonder if you were just imagining it. He was making this exchange a nightmare, every bone in your body told you to run and hide and thats exactly what you did. The gloomy cave was within a few feet away, you'd made your way through the dark tunnels of it almost tripping over rocks that scattered the floors.

Your room was waiting for you acting as the only shield between you and the merciless creature of the night. Adrenaline ran hot through your veins as you jumped onto your bed, you were so high on it you hadn't realized the tears that poured from your eyes. Your thoughts froze as A tall dark shadow with glowing red eyes emerged from the depths of the tunnels reaching the entrance of your room. Frightening you to your core...

"please... no ... please go away" Your pleads didnt do you any good he had reached the foot of your bed "Come here" Dwayne growled, his chest heaving with rage as he pointed for you to come to him.

You were astounded by his tone, your body scooted further away. "No go away! You're scaring me!" You cried. He laughed wickedly "I should be.... you have no idea what your in for!" His eyes were glowing red with fury. "Now im not gonna ask you twice come here" He said sternly. You stared at him in shock, your body froze too scared to move.

A low growl rubbled through his body before

He yanked your legs, now towering over you. You yelped in fear. "When I tell you something you obey me understand" your eyes stared at him bewildered, he had never spoken to you like that. "Who is he?" Dwayne's voice was gruff as he crawled on top of you gripping both your hands above your head.

"Who are you talking about" you cried as his face grew closer to yours. His eyes shut for a second as he snarled before opening his eyes once more. "Every chance you get you disobey me, you think I like disciplining you?" He snapped.

"No dwayne, I promise nothing happened I just wanted to get cotton candy and that guy kept talking to me-" You rushed you words out but were interrupted by dwayne. "You were never supposed to leave the cave in the first place, do you have any idea what could have happened to you, then I catch you flirting with another guy." he grimaced.

"I wasn't flirting!" You cried growing frustrated with his remarks, his grasp on your wrist only tightened.

"Well maybe I should remind you what happens when you do." With a quick shift he hoisted you up from the bed throwing you over his legs as he sat. "I didn't want to do this but it seems nothing else works for you."  He didn't have to say much more, you understood exactly what he was gonna do to you.

"Dwayne! Let me go!" You yelled furiously squirming under his tight grip that forced your body bent over his lap. He shook your body forcefully "Dont make me shut you up" He growled.  "You don't have to do this Dwayne. Let me go" You yelled kicking your feet back.

"Oh but I think I do you've been getting on my last nerve all damn month, I pamper you non stop and this is what I get?" His voice raised with every word as he spoke, rage flowed through his body as he reminded himself why he had to do this.

"I won't do it again just let me go" you squirmed again but dwayne rested his hand on your back as his other hiked your skirt up. His heavy hand brushed over your ass, the coldness of the metal that wrapped around his fingers making you shiver as it made contact with your skin. "It's too late for that now..." he scoffed. Your anger was slowly fading feeling intrigued by the way dwayne was handling you.

"Now..." he started. "You will count every spank I give you out loud, you miss one we start all over again got it?"

"Yes, daddy."  You whispered. His hand gripped the back of your shirt tight as his other forced down the first harsh slap on your ass. You winced feeling the sharp sting of his rings slap against your skin. "One" you called out. Another one followed "Two". You felt dwayne's fury with each cold hard smack against your skin. Your hands clung tight around his ankle as the rest of your body jolted against his lap "3" you gasped vulgarly as his hand shot down on your bottom again. You were surprised how much you were enjoying this punishment.  Dwaynes smacks came to a stop "Get up" He muttered.

Dwayne grew aggravated, he was so frustrated with the way you were acting always trying to get under his skin and he'd had enough of it. His body shook with anger and his skin grew hot. He picked you up throwing you back onto the bed, in just a few seconds he tore his heavy jacket off his shoulders. He snarled with a sinister chuckle. He watched as you looked up confused for a second. His chest heaved with exasperation, somehow he looked taller staring down at you. Your legs tangled in the sheets shifting upwards against the bed in an attempt to move away from him.

With a quick grasp he yanked on your ankle pulling you along with it, he trapped you faster than you could move pinning your hand at your sides. His breathing was heavy against your face. Your head tilted back in frustration, now surrendering to his little game. His jaw clenched as he lifted your dress up, the black lace of you underwear intertwining with his fingers. Dwayne teased your sex, erupting a gasp from your lips. His fiery eyes glared down on yours as his vast hand slipped under the hem of your panties. A smirk slapped on his face as he cupped your soaking mound "Even like this you're wet, you like it when i'm mean to you... Isn't that right?" He chuckled against you ear. His face grew full of pride, watching your eyes roll back with each bit of movement he made. "Those were your intentions this whole time." He purred against your neck "Weren't they?". His digits pushed deep into your heat curling up inside you, "No" you choked in between moans writhing against the sheets, desperately spreading your legs further for him. The blood had rushed straight to the apples of your cheeks turning them bright red as dwayne dragged his fingers back to your folds drawing circles on your aching clit. "no" you muttered again under your breathe. 

"Oh but I think they were"  He whispered leaning into your ear again smirking. "Who was he?" He groaned quickening his pace. You whimpered confused "Dwayne-" you muttered the word "Stranger" His right hand grasped the back of your head tugging on your tangled hair. This time he pulled your face to look him in the eyes  "Tell me..." His voice sounded gravelly as he trailed on. His digits thrusted into you again sending your body reeling once more. "I'm not gonna ask you twice now tell me" He huffed. His thrust had slowed giving you time to catch your breathe. You realized he wouldn't stop with this, you'd never hear the end of it until you gave him his name. "Dwayne... I- I dont Know" you rushed grunting feeling flushed with his questions. "Stephen" was all you said. His breathing lowered, stopping what he was doing. The sound of another man's name coming from your lips hurt. His vision blurred, the color red invading dwayne's sight. "Dwayne!" you whimpered, snapping him out of a trance. His mind filled with pictures of you with another man. He could not fathom the thought of it, you were his. A deep sense of possession washed over him, no one could ever have you.

His eyes had turned into a raging deep shade of red as he leaned over to you, his nose nudging the right side of your cheek as his ring clad hand reached under your skirt. Snugging your black cotton soaked underwear off in one swift moment. His calloused hands gripped your thighs pulling you closer, feeling up between them until his fingers toyed near your beating sex. "Tell me...honey" He whispered. Closing in on you with a smirk. "Why should I fuck a girl who's been so disrespectful?"

Slick formed between your thighs whilst he looked you deep in the eyes. "I'm sorry" You cried. You grew eager and desperate for him. He laughed shaking his head "Sorry doesn't cut it this time, I guess I'll have to fuck some respect into you" Dwayne sighed shaking his head with a sly smile.

He hoisted you up by your waist, unbuttoning his jeans in the process. He slid his dark denim down his muscular thighs, huffing with anticipation. He stroked himself before you embracing every inch of his man-hood. Dwayne teased your slick folds probing your sensitive entrance with his tip, just enough to have you begging for more. Dwayne's eyes bore into yours watching as you pouted away, he licked his lips whilst he spoke "Naughty girl always testing my limits" he purred. Your whimper failed to make it past your lips as he pushed into you, stilling as soon as he bottomed out inside of you."Oh!" You moaned gripping the fabric of your skirt that pooled around your belly. Your eyes shut closed together tight as your cheeks flushed, he hadn't gave you enough time to adjust for him.

As much as you hated to admit you liked it. You had done just enough to push him over the edge, finally have him lose his cool. Show you just how territorial he could be when it came you.

He picked up his rhythm making his thrust deep filling you to the brim, the tip of his cock nudged your g spot expertly everytime you jerked forward. A low growl escaped his lips as his fingers dug onto each side of your thighs holding you in place. "Dwayne!" you cried, your moans echoed in his head giving him the exact satisfaction he needed to heighten his ego.

Dwayne's body shook as his hips collided with yours producing the only sound that filled the room. He let all his frustration unveil right in front of you. His body heat, his scent, his entire being covered and surrounded you. You were right under his thumb.

Your thoughts were hazed with dwayne's harsh thrust, moan after moan escaping you mixed with screams. You couldn't help it his dick was so big it hurt. He was so deep inside you that he was painfully pushing against your cervix. Dwayne pulled you flush against his chest, rocking back onto his knees.

"You wanna fuck someone else? Is that what you wanna do?" He said with a snarl. "No"  you cried. Your vision burred as tears poured down your face, hands clutching around his neck for balance.

"Daddy~" you cried out. "You want to fuck someone else?" A deep inhumane snarl left his lips as is hands tugged on your hair along with his words. "Answer me" He demanded. "Noo-" you cried "Oh- only you dway-" you gasped. His pace quickened with such force. Your eyes rolled to the back your head as drool slipped through the side of your mouth trying to put your words together. "You're all mine" Dwayne whispered against your neck in between his loud pants "I know all of you" The words echoed in your brain, you were beginning to feel lightheaded. His calloused hand rubbed your belly, pressing against it easily feeling himself through your flesh. "Like me there? right there" He questioned pressing roughly on your abdomen. Your head snapped back moaning his name in between loud cries. Your body shook against his as you reached your first orgasm. You squirmed under his grasp trying to escape the overstimulation. He held your hips tight thrusting into you.

"Poor baby can't take my dick" He hummed. Dwayne shoved you forward again, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "N-o, Please—more" You screamed. The applied pressure becoming to much for your hazed little brain.

You fell limp against his vast shoulders, letting him use you as he pleased. "Already fucked your brains out and I'm not even finished" He shoved you forward again, hand adjusting to hold the small of your back in an arch. "Milking my cock so good honey" His voice sounded velvet soft against your skin. Your walls began to spasm around him so tight his hips stuttered. His pace slowed his thrust becoming forcefully, you couldn't stop yourself from screaming.

Your brain was so fucked you didn't notice the hot cum coating your insides. Your body shook continuously after each orgasm, you'd lost count. He pumped into you twitching against your tight walls grunting as he shot his hot load into you. He slowed his pace finally getting his cock to still in you. You squirmed under his hold thinking it was over but he had other plans. "Stop moving, gonna keep my cock in you" You whimpered your poor cunt.  "Dwayne please-" Your face was full of fear. "I'll be gentle baby" he purred dragging his thumb below your chin. You bought that sudden sweet talk of his. "Please" you whispered repeating yourself. He traced kisses from your chin to your neck, stopping at a certain spot. His tongue sucked the spot making sure to leave a bruise so that everyone would see. His hips rocked slowly against yours subtly picking up a rhythm.