#I took out the damn couch cushions looking for this thing

[vintageot5]

Girl loses her favorite chapstick 5 dead 27 wounded

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 9. the end

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?

WC: 9.1K

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.

Two Weeks Later

"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."

"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.

"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.

"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"

Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.

"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."

The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.

"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.

"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"

"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.

"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."

"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.

"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."

"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"

You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.

Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.

"Can I go with you?"

Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."

Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"

He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."

You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.

"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.

"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.

"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"

He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.

"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."

Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."

You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."

"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.

You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."

With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.

He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.

Maybe you planned it that way.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.

"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.

"Promise."

It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.

"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.

"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."

Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.

"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."

Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.

"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"

"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."

Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.

"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.

As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.

"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"

Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.

"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.

The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.

As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.

"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."

Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."

Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.

They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.

He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.

Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.

The perfect hiding spot.

He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.

Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.

He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.

When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.

The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.

"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."

It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.

They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.

"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.

"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.

"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."

Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.

"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.

To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.

"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.

"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.

"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."

"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"

"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?

Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.

You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.

Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.

You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"

"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."

You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.

"I missed you, too."

You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.

"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

"I've got no fuckin' idea."

In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.

"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.

"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"

"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.

"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said?"

He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."

You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."

His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.

"I love you, Joel."

His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.

"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."

Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.

For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.

His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.

When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.

When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.

It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.

"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.

When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.

But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."

You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.

He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.

"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.

"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?

"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.

Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.

It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.

When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.

You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.

It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.

"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."

You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.

"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.

You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.

"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.

"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."

Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.

"Leave it on."

Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.

It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.

"You okay?"

You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.

"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."

"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."

He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.

How's that feel?

Do that again.

Tell me you love me.

I love you.

Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.

His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.

"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.

"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"

"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.

Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.

You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.

After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.

The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.

You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.

"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."

He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.

"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."

He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"

You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.

"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."

"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

You chuckled when you thought about it.

"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."

"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"

"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.

"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.

"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"

"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Yes! How did-"

"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.

"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.

"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"

"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"

"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"

"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."

He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"

"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"

All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.

"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.

Three Months Later

"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."

You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.

"Maybe I'm a natural, then."

Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.

You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.

"Have any dreams lately?"

You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."

When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.

After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.

And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.

You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.

"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.

You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."

He grinned and holstered his revolver.

"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't start."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."

"I ain't flirtin' with you."

"Yes, you are!"

He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."

"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.

"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."

"Okay."

You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"Pun intended?"

He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.

"Like this?"

"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."

Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.

"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.

"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."

You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.

"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.

"Here. Lemme help you."

He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.

"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."

"Her?" you teased.

He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."

"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"

"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."

"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."

"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.

Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.

"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."

You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.

"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.

"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.

You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.

When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.

"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."

His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."

You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"

He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."

You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?

[rafecameroninterlude]

rafe + gun play 🫠

warnings: dealer!rafe, bratty!reader, gunplay, a little self discovery lol

“will you put that down already? jesus, you’re going to kill somebody.” rafe took the loaded gun out of your hand, his tall figure towering over your own. you two had been stuck here at barry’s dingy trailer for about an hour already, rafe’s business partner leaving your boyfriend in charge of looking after his shit while he ran a few errands. “i’m bored! what are we supposed to do here, ray?” you followed rafe back inside, plopping down on the couch with a sigh.

“just sit and look pretty. barry should be here soon.” he emptied the chamber of the gun, placing it on the kitchen counter. “but i’ve been doing that!” rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, “y/n..” his tone was firm, a warning for you to stop giving him a hard time. ultimately surrendering, you fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of your denim skirt. you two sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until rafe joined you on the couch.

“what’s your sudden interest in my gun about? i thought you hated that thing.” he draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you smiled, knowing he was warming up to you because he felt bad for getting stern with you earlier. “i did.. but i saw you use it the other day and i wanted to see how it would feel in my hands.” your hand was under his shirt, fingertips tracing shapes into the soft skin of his abdomen. “and what did you think?” he hummed.

“well, i don’t know. somebody took it away from me before i could figure out how i felt about it.” rafe shook his head, retrieving the gun before cautiously handing it over to you. running the pads of your fingers across the cold metal, you shivered slightly when your mind went back to the cracking noise it made when you first saw rafe fire it. “so?” he leaned in, the stark contrast between your pink manicured nails, and the black color of steel, making a humored smile form on his lips.

“it’s heavy..” you held it up, with rafe’s assistance of course. “it’s heavier when there’s ammunition in it.” he placed his hand over yours, making you grip the handle. “ammunition?” your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “bullets, babe.” you giggled, “oh, right.” rafe pressed a kiss to your temple before bringing you up to your feet. “you see that beer can on the table? aim at it.” you tried to ignore the way the buckle of his belt pressed against your ass, a shaky breath leaving your lips once you had the gun pointed at your target.

“pull the trigger.” your heart was beating in your ears as you slowly pulled, flinching once you heard the hollow click of the barrel. “see? it’s easy.” you sighed in relief, jumping excitedly as rafe laughed along with you. “can we load it now?” rafe stopped abruptly, clearing his throat. “no.” he reached for the gun, making you move away before he had the chance to take it again. “give it, it’s not a toy-” he froze when you pointed it at him. even though there was nothing inside the damned thing, the sight of you smiling with a weapon in your hand was unsettling… and kind of sexy?

“aw, are you scared ray?” you pushed the metal into his chest, “sit down.” rafe did as he was told, holding his hands up defensively as he settled into the couch cushions beneath him. you couldn’t help the satisfied feeling that pooled in your belly from having your usually dominant boyfriend now bending at your will. “take your shirt off.” the corner of rafe’s lips lifted in a smirk. surprisingly for him, he was enjoying every second of you thinking you had the one up on him.

he slipped the garment off, your eyes traveling down his torso. god, your boyfriend was glorious. rafe leaned back, manspreading as you stood between his thighs. “what do you think you’re gonna do with that?” you shrugged at his words, trailing the gun up his thigh “i don’t know.. maybe make you take your pants off next.” your next move was a bold one, but it riled up rafe in the best way possible. with the firearm now pressed against his erection, he was practically buzzing with the need to flip the script on you.

as if on cue, you heard the motor of a dirt bike riding up the dirt path to the trailer. rafe took your moment of distraction as a chance to grab the gun out of your grasp, which was deemed successful when he pulled you down onto his lap, the steel now digging into the skin of your thigh. “thought you were tough shit, huh?” you whimpered at the slightly painful sensation, his arm draped over your chest, holding you in place.

“no!” you squeaked, a shiver running down your spine as he trailed the gun between your legs, briefly touching your clothed cunt before bringing it up to your chest. “still think we should load it now?” rafe teased. you shook your head, confused as to why you felt horny with a gun pointed to your cheek. just as you grinded yourself against his hardened cock, barry walked in with a duffle bag. “what are y’all freaks getting into now?”

[waynes-multiverse]

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

[cherry-pop-elf]

Cup Of Sugar

Deadpool x Reader x Wolverine

Authors Note: Since Yall finally see the beauty of Poolverine, you finally get some stupid fluff. Here ya go

Sum: You were neighbors with Blind Al, and that chaotic son of hers. Recently you’ve been hearing alot of noise, and figured you check on them both. Like a good neighbor. Seems to have been just the right time

Warnings: Fluff, canon typical violence, Logan and Wade being so gay in their own way, Blind Al being a total wing woman, dogpool aprecitation post, family fluff because god dammit Mama Blind Al and her sons boyfriend with their new dog domestic fluff is needed!

“Will you two knock it off! I don’t need another damn couch in this house-!” You would hear Al shout. Not the first time, but the noise seemed so much more wild as of recent. Like some kind of badger was joining the party. Couldn’t help it with your worry. She was blind after all. So, here you are. Knocking on her door.

“Get along-! Well, or like STOP GETTING ALONG-!” You heard her snapping, before yanking the door open. “The hell you want?” She asked, before you would clear your throat.

“Hey Miss Althea-!” The moment she heard your voice she had softened into that motherly state she always had for you. Not many people in the complex really enjoyed her company, or her son’s, but you always took the time to say hi to her. Not treat her any less inferior because of her blindness.

“Oh hey baby! Come on in, get in here-!” She just beamed, and laughed. Happy to have someone new to talk to. Can get lonely, after all. From many of your conversations with her, when helping her take the groceries to her apartment, her son Wade was often on business trips. Nice to have some company.

Inside was certainly a chaotic mess. You swore someone ran around like a Tasmanian Devil in there. Pictures asque, cushions everywhere, a couch shredded like it was thrown in a blender. You were wondering what the hell happened. Was it a break in? Had you worried sick, before a bark caught your attention.

“PUPPY-!” You couldn’t stop yourself from squealing, as you knelt to the floor. Right next to the dog in her dog bed. All snuggled with plushies of what you guessed were her favorite heros, and seeming to be the one area of the apartment that escaped this fire. Least whoever attacked the home had some kind of morals.

“That ugly thing? That’s ’Mary Puppins’ as the dynamic duo calls them. She that ugly kinda cute. She always knows when you need someone to cuddle, that’s for sure. I ain’t complaining. Nice having company.” Al would explain to you, as you were hypnotized by her cuteness. Had her cradled in your arms, and giving her all the belly scratches.

“She’s perfect.” You cooed, as you gave her fluffy head a kiss. Had her barking happily at your attention. Seemed said barking finally got the attention of the two rascals in the home. A bickering of panic French was held, before you turned your head. As to see what the French was going on.

“Hey-“ A burly man would wave, before seeming to shove the other person into a bedroom. In some kind of mad panic, as if to hide them from you. For some reason.

“Oh, hey. Uh, hi.” You would stand up, Pup in hand, as you registered what you were looking at. He wasn’t the tallest man around, and honestly? Might be even shorter than yourself. Didn’t take away the fact he was built like a truck. Somehow all tucked away behind a torn up wife beater and jeans. Looked like he had been fighting someone with a set of knives. On top of knives. With more knives.

“That’s Logan. My kids new boyfriend.” Al would brush off casually, as she would find herself towards the couch. Just to sit there, and most definitely keep an ear out for the drama to happen now.

“We aren’t….It’s complicated-“ He tried to explain, before said Wade popped his cheery ass out. Having been in such a rush to join the party, he was wearing his shirt backwards. You would argue his boxers to, but a puppy keeps anyone’s attention.

“Oh hey! Peanut, that’s our neighbor. About time you met the sweetheart. Don’t do anything Logany. Or do, kinda a freak. Just saying-“ He would nudge at the shorter man, as said man rolled his eyes.

“Hey Wade-! When did you get this little girl? And uh, the hell happened here?” You were pretty used to Wades insanity at this point, hence why he called you a freak (in that sweet way endearing way) so maybe there was an explanation on all this.

“Thats Mary Puppens. The sweetest shit stain around. We got her from uh….A cousin. Passed away. Terrible terrible. Can’t have her left alone.” Wade would explain, as Logan would walk over. Gave the pup a gentle scratch under her chin that made her shake her leg just right. She clearly loved her new parents dearly.

“And the mess here?” You would raise a brow, before Wade tugged at his collar. That’s when he noticed it was backwards, and kept himself busy with fixing it. Left Logan to have to bite the bullet.

“….Redecorating…..” Logan offered, as you just stared at the two. A brow raised, as you didn’t buy it for a single second. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to fall for the ‘put on a hat and jacket and suddenly you can’t make out a superhero from a crowd’ trope. Something suspicious was going on.

“Just be direct, will ya?! If anyone can be trusted it’s gonna be that there sugar.” Al would practically scold the two little dumbasses. Just like a mother would to her so , and his boyfriend, who were trying to dance around a topic.

“Are you two super humans of some kind? You don’t have to tell me more. Just….Dont wanna worry about little Pup here and Al. Ya know?” That seemed to make Logan pause. As if your kindness, and realness, was a shock to have. A welcomed one, but you’ll still get caught off guard if you ate trash and suddenly had a pallet cleanser of lime sherbet shoved in your mouth.

“Do you mean super human as super human, or super human like mutant powers, or super human like experimented on, or super human like as a-“ And Logan promptly smacked the back of Wades head. Treating him like a skipping record. Had you giggle, since now you didn’t have to worry about the violence. Able to comprehend they just don’t feel pain like others.

“Super human is all that needs to be said, bub.” Logan warned him, as he held up his fist. You thought to punch, but you swore the top of his hand was twitching. Not like a muscle spasm. Way too uniformed. As if three veins were bulging. Maybe it was better not to question it.

“Now, why are you even here?” Logan would try his blunt coldness on you, but living next to the likes of Wade doesn’t really phase you. This was a world of super heros and inhumans. Can’t scare you that easy.

“Came to check on Miss Althea. Heard a ruckus, that was louder than normal, so I came to check.” That had Logan scoff. To hear you being so ‘brave’ and coming over to the source of the noise. A admiring ‘so dumb but in a brave way’ admiring.

“He’s still grumpy from the turbulence, if you will-“ Wade would jazz hands, as if knowing things that no one else shouldn’t. He always did act like that. As if he just knew how the world worked better than others. You found it more so endearing than creepy, like others did.

“Oh! New here? Well welcome! Oh, maybe I can show you around? Wade and I know some pretty cool places. Oh! There’s a dog park that’s built for dogs who need more special care than others. We can all go there with Miss Puppins!” You were rambling like Wade, but had the clarity of Logan. A beautiful combination. One that had the two men smitten.

“Fuck yeah we can go to the dog park. Get dressed, Showman, come on-!” And Wade was running off to get changed. The typical attire of hoodie, face mask, glasses. Just layering. You didn’t find his skin disgusting, but given the world’s issues with pandemic it can’t be helped.

“Great, now you got him started again-“ Logan would complain, yet was already grabbing his leather jacket. Complaining, yet clearly willingly excited all the same. Just in his own way.

“Would you like to join us, Miss Althea?” You asked her, which gave her a bit of a surprise. You wanted her to come along? She normally never tagged along on things like this. Yet, you offered. Even though most times she would say no. Not this time.

“Someone needs to make sure you assholes don’t get into more shit.” She smarted off, but was already standing. With the help of Logan, of course. Just in time for Wade to return.

“Come on disabled gang! Let’s go!” He would clap, as Logan just kept rolling his eyes. You yourself were excited, and leading the charge now. All with Miss Puppins happy in your arms. So happy to have a big family to take her on adventures.

Nothing more sweet than a happy pup.

[arahdow]

BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR QUILLS !

Pairing. Sonic x reader, Shadow x reader, Silver x reader, Knuckles x reader

Content. fem!reader. fluff, tiny silly argument in shadow’s, cuddling, overall soft stuff.

Word count. 1.6 k

A/N. writing sonic was the hardest thing i’ve ever done aH idk why!! i’ll make sure to write him more often to get used to his personality aH anywaaay, again, not beta read, i’m really sacrificing my sleep hours for this one sjdjs hope y’all like it!!

SONIC

making you run and accidentally crashing with him.

“Come on! You’re being too slow!” Sonic screamed as he kept on running, his feet moving way too fast for her liking. 

Just a few days ago, the blue hedgehog encouraged his partner to go out for a run together, and she knew he was an athletic man, but this? This was torture.

“Sonic… Wait… I can’t” her feet were moving so slow compared to his, especially when she wasn’t used to running this much. 

“One foot in front of the other! Come on!” Sonic said laughing, as he ran backwards, looking at the girl. She huffed with annoyance, the hedgehog still winning even when running like that!

After a while, the blue animal ran faster and almost disappeared from her sight. The girl took a deep breath and started running faster. Somehow, the fear of getting lost in the forest making her move, helping with adrenaline. Suddenly her body was moving faster than before. Way faster! 

Her body, sadly, started to grow tired quickly because of the energy she was using. Her lower limbs suddenly getting wobbly, but somehow kept running. Out of instinct, she thought.

That was until she realized she was about to crash into a stone wall at the end of the road, it was getting dangerously close!

The girl stretched her arms to cushion the blow. A violent ‘Hey!’ was all she could hear as she crashed, not on a stone wall, but rather a soft body. Sonic’s body to be clear.

He used his own body to soften the crash, but something was wrong.

“Ouch! Wha-”

She looked down and saw one of Sonic’s blue quills stuck on her shoulder. “Damn… Ouch.” 

The animal was sprawled upon her, but quickly recovered to take a look at his injured girlfriend. “Oh, I’m sorry darling,” he said with a sheepish smile, helping her stand up, careful not to mess with the quill. “but it’s kinda your fault to run that fast, thought you were about to destroy time and spac- Ouch! Why are you hitting me!” He said with a pained laugh.

“You’re an asshole! Help me get this out!” She complained, annoyed that the man was making fun of her.

“Aw, don’t be all grumpy, I promise not to make you run again.” He said, pushing her slightly to take her to the infirmary. “Hey, maybe next time you can try Shadow’s air shoe-”

“Don’t even finish that thought.”

SHADOW

silly old couple argument

“Move.” The girl didn’t reply, her gaze focused on the tv. “Get up.”

“Git ip.” she mocked.

The black hedgehog grumbled, sitting really close to her, almost on her.

“Hey-”

“This is my side of the couch, you know that.” He said as he crossed his arms. “I don’t like this channel.”

“You don’t like anything, Shadow.” She complained, not giving him the remote.

They’ve been living together for a year, two years being a couple, and they still bickered like an old couple. It became something usual between them, and it got even worse when speaking of the sofa. There was only this purple sofa in the living room, both her and Shadow liked it, but there was just something about the spot on the far left that was perfect. For both of them.

So if they were together in the house, it was usual for them to fight over the sofa spot, like they were doing now.

“I’m feeling hot, you need to get off of me!”

“I’m not on you, you’re the one occupying my place!”

“Shadow!” she pushed the hedgehog with her shoulder, as he pressed even harder on her.

With a huff, she turned and put her hands on him to push him again, when a quill suddenly pinched her hand. 

“Ow!” She exclaimed, looking at the dark quill stuck on her. “You can have your stupid place on the couch!” the girl said as she stuck her tongue and got up to the kitchen, looking for some tweezers to take the quill out.

Not many long after, the man got into the kitchen, following her, taking her arm in his hand. “Hey-”

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking intently at the sensitive red spot on her hand. Pressing his lips, he brought her hand under the faucet to clean the wound. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Please forgive me.” 

The girl snorted. “It’s alright though, I was just messing with you, but you were seriously pressed, huh? Pressed enough to hurt me.” She said with a fake tone of hurt on her voice.

Shadow rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna let this down, are you?”

She gasped and whined, putting on a pouty face, “Ow! It hurts! Please! Why are you so mean to me?”

“Alright alright, you can have the couch for today.” He sighed, shaking his head with humor.

The girl smiled, her face expression going back to normal. Turning happily, the girl kissed his cheek before running to the couch. “Love you, Shads!” 

SILVER

cuddling after a long day but uh oh…

After a tiring day outside, he wanted nothing more than to be at home, eat the food his girl made for him and spend time with her. It was a simple plan, and the cherry on top? Cuddling with her on bed, his face pressed on her stomach as she threaded his quills.

It was a usual occurrence, both of them lying down in silence, sometimes him laying on her lap, sometimes her on his, but they spent most of their time cheek to cheek.

“Silver…” She whispered, afraid of disturbing him. But he didn’t reply, instead, a soft snore broke his silence.

The girl giggled a bit as she kept on caressing his face and quills. It was times like this where she found herself falling once again for her hedgehog lover. She was actually reading a book on her other hand, so her attention was mostly directed to it.

Being immersed on the story, she got really focused on the sentences, suddenly drifting off from her task on her other hand. She unconsciously made her limb move in erratic ways, as she tried to keep on doing both things at the same time.

That was until she felt a slight sting on her hand. Jolting, she yelped as she retreated her hand from his body. The movement was so sudden, Silver opened his sleepy eyes, sensing something wrong.

Leaning back enough so he could see his partner in the eye, he found instead a look of slight pain as she held her hand in front of her face, a silverish quill stuck on her palm.

“Oh chaos, dear, your hand!” He expressed, incorporating as he held her hand for a bit. Using his telekinesis, he brought the aid kit to bed. Doing a careful procedure, he took the quill out from her hand, making her hiss at the feeling.

“I’m sorry…” He said.

“Don’t be, it was my fault, I was completely distracted by the story.” She replied, looking at the book beside her.

Silver took a look, as he kept patching her hand. “Hey! That’s the book I recommended the other day!” 

“It is! And it’s so good! I really loved it when the protagonist saved the kids from the falling building.” 

“That was my favorite part too!” He said. Both of them laughed and kept on talking about the book. He was really happy to have her in his life.

KNUCKLES

It’s shedding season! And your roomie-bf is in the house!

Cleaning after an echidna warrior was difficult, especially when he kept bringing his dirty shoes inside her home, her food taken, and her bed occupied. But she honestly loved Knuckles company, so she carried on with it.

It was starting to get a whole lot colder outside, as the temperature began to cool down. It was that time of the year where the island became a little snowglobe, so the echidna spent more time at her partner’s home than anywhere else.

Today she needed to do the laundry, piles of dirty clothes started to form, and even though Knuckles tried to convince her to stop using clothes like him, that still wasn’t on her plans, at least not on a short term.

Sighing, she started to walk towards the laundry room, a pile of white clothes on her arms, making seeing the floor almost impossible. Knuckles was sleeping in her room, so she let him. She’ll make him fold the clothes afterwards either way. Sure, she’d let him crash whenever he needed it, but it came with a price.

Opening the door of the room, the girl stepped inside. But she wasn't ready to feel an electric pain coursing from the bottom of her feet to her core. A scared scream left her throat as the pile of clothes fell from her hands. Tripping, the girl fell on her butt with a thud. Not a second later, the echidna was already punching the laundry’s room door, breaking it. His breathing agitated as he saw his significant other on the floor.

“What happened?” He asked, worried that someone might have come into her home. 

The girl crawled, starting to search in between the clothes as she stumbled upon a red quill. Taking it in between her fingers, she showed it to the animal, furrowed eyebrows on her face.

Knuckles saw the quill with curious eyes. “You stepped on a quill of mine?” 

She threw the quill at him, half annoyed. “Of course I did! Don’t go around shedding your stuff please. Look! Now my foot hurts because of it.” She said as she looked at her now destroyed door. “And that too!” The mammal listened to her words, and before she could complain for anything else, he got closer to take the girl in his arms, an easy task for him, and brought her to the sofa. Laying her down, he put a gloved hand on his own chest.

“I’ll take care of the laundry to compensate for it.” He oathed, the girl surprised for his serious face, snorting in the process.

“That’d be nice.” She said, as she looked at her foot, not swollen or anything. “I could help you though-”

“No, you stay there.” He demanded as he strided to the laundry room.

A moment later, he came back stomping to the living room again. 

“Uhm… How does the machine that washes clothes works?”

[lvrxly]

ִ ࣪𖤐- An Odd Feeling

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

summary: your neighbor, Simon, is a single dad. and you frequently babysit his son, Oliver. You've grown to love Oliver, buying toys for him, planning play dates, and even offering to babysit him while his dad goes on a date..wait what? You really thought after all of this Simon would choose you, but maybe he will..?

cw: simon is somewhat oblivious at the beginning >:((, mdni - smut, slight age difference (Simon is in his mid-30s while the reader is in her mid-20s), unprotected sex, breeding kink on Simon's part, oral sex (f receiving), Simon can't help but want another kid after seeing how you treat his :((

a/n: sorry this took so long to get posted! and i apologize for any grammar mistakes, i don't have the energy to edit this right now ;( (it's almost 4am).

hope you enjoy lovies ;)

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

"Thanks again for this love, I should be back around 9pm, please try and get him to bed before then," Ghost says frantically as he passes his son over to you along with his diaper bag and favorite blanket.

There was that damned nickname again. 'Love'. Simon always seemed to call you love, it was almost infuriating how that little pet name could make your heart race and your cheeks heat.

Simon had a date with someone a friend of his set up for him, Soap, you think was the guys name. From a photo Simon showed you, she was pretty, gorgeous even. Slim and tall, long blonde hair, and seemingly put together.

"Yeah no problem. Have fun, try and get laid. You definitely need it," You say with a dry laugh, bouncing his son, Oliver, over to your other hip. Why the fuck would you say that? 'Get laid?' Why would you even suggest such a fucking thing knowing you can barely stomach watching him go out on this date in the first place.

He cleans up nice, a fitted pair of dark grey khaki pants with a white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled, revealing his tattooed forearms, and his sandy blonde hair slicked back out of his face, making him less shaggy looking than you were used to.

Simon laughs and waves goodbye as he turns on the heels of his dress shoes and hops down the steps of your front porch. You wave at his back, shutting the door with a heavy sigh. You turn around and set Oliver down, watching as he bolts toward the little corner of your living room which you had designated as his play area for when he comes over.

Your heart feels heavy as you walk over towards your couch, tossing Oliver's diaper bag and blanket onto one of the cushions. You flop down onto the other cushion, kicking your feet up on the coffee table that is placed in front of your couch.

Oliver looks just like his father, from what you could see anyways. Dirty blonde hair, gunmetal blue eyes, and a small dimple on his left cheek. He was an adorable kid, an easy one to babysit too.

Oliver runs up to you, a toy tractor in his hand as he holds it up to you, his other hand rested on your knee as if to help him balance better. "Tac-tar!" He exclaims.

You smile at him, taking the toy he was offering you, and touching your fingertip on his nose, causing the little boy to giggle. Enough about Simon. Oliver was your date tonight. Your own play date buddy.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

It was a little after 9pm, maybe just about 9:47, when Simon got back. He had knocked on your door for a good 5 minutes before he gave up and decided to let himself in.

He used the key that you would poorly hide under your doormat. The two of you would get into arguments about the placement of the key.

"It's the most obvious spot, love, you're gonna end up getting robbed on of these days." Simon had said the day you told him where it was, he was always worrying about your safety. You knew he was an ex-military Lieutenant, but then again that might just be the dad in him talking.

After unlocking your front door and pushing it open he begins to speak, "Sorry I was a little later than I thou-" But he cuts himself off after his eyes land on your couch.

There you laid on your back, an arm falling off the couch and a leg propped up on the back cushion, snoring lightly. That position couldn't have been that comfortable. But that's not what made him freeze. It was how his son was laying on your chest, fast asleep with his favorite blanket draped over his back. You looked as if his son was your own.

His breathe is caught in his throat as he stares at the two of you, slowly shutting the door behind him as he makes his way over to the couch.

A small smile paints his face as he stands behind the small and slightly sad turquoise couch, bending down so his forearms rested in the back cushion. He watches you sleep, his eyes dragging up and down your frame. After a moment he uses a single finger to brush a stray piece of hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

His smile never falters as he pets the back of his sons head, his long blonde hair slightly sweaty from how hot it probably was being all nuzzled up to you.

You stir in your sleep, your eyes fluttering, only for them to end up shooting wide open in shock. You gasp and clutch the back of Oliver, sighing after realizing who was really watching you sleep.

You sit up, cradling Oliver in your arms, careful not to wake him. "Do you normally watch people sleep?" You say with an annoyed look on your face as you rub your eyes, sleep still attempting to pull you back in.

After regaining most of your consciousness, you stand from the couch, your clothes wrinkled and Oliver's little head on your shoulder as you hold him in your arms.

"Eh, define normally," Simon says, a joking tone noticeable in his voice. Was he trying to make a joke? Since when did Simon Riley ever makes jokes? What the hell happened at the date?

"Your in a good mood. You didn't really end up getting laid right? You know what..? I don't think I wanna know." Your words are frantic and slightly irritated. Why did you feel so...odd right now? Simon is a single man. He has the right to go on dates with beautiful women. Unfortunately.

You bounce around your kitchen, rocking your hips side to side to keep Oliver asleep for as long as possible. You can't help but notice how Simons eyes follow your hips as they move. And..what was that? Did he just groan? No no, that would be crazy.

"No I didn't get laid," He finally replies. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Almost like a breath of relief.

"If I was getting laid I would have gotten back a lot later..It takes more than 30 minutes with me, love.." Simon was suddenly behind you, his breath hot on your neck as his hands hover above your hips, heat radiating off of his tatted skin, almost scorching the flesh of your thighs through your pants.

You stop bouncing his son, glancing over your shoulder at Simon and..holy shit he was close, almost too close. Those damned eyes were pulling you under and you didn't know if you wanted to be saved.

Oliver shifts in your arms, waking up slowly. His tiny hands rub his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. Once he's awake and spots his dad he immediately makes grabby hands towards him.

You gladly hand him over to Simon, anything to get away from the man that was way way wayyyy to close for comfort. You give Oliver to his father and take a large step away from Simon. You see his smile falter but he quickly regains his composure when his son calls his name, his tiny hands on Simons cheeks.

"You have fun while I was away buddy?" He asks his son, to which Oliver responds with a vigorous nod. He then begins to blabble on about his trucks and snacks he ate, but you space out, your eyes still locked on the two of them.

Simon looked so good with a kid, he was a good dad. You can't help but imagine how good he must have been to his wife while she was pregnant. Her lose for leaving him. He's a great guy. Unfortunately, that means women probably throw themselves at him. Hot, ex-military, AND good with kids??? Yeah, they definitely do. And you would to, if you were so full of self doubt.

"Love?" You hear Simon say, his eyes now focused on you as Oliver was seemingly put down to go play for a little longer.

"I asked if you're free this weekend? Oliver is going over to his grandparents for a few days and I was wondering if you'd like to do something?" His voice was shy...that was weird. It's almost like-

"Are you asking me on a date?" You say, a teasing smirk playing across your lips.

"No no, well- no it's not like that. Just as friends, you know- without the ruckus of that one running around." When he says "that one" he points towards Oliver, who was currently crashing two tractors together and making a crash sound with his mouth.

"You know what? Sure Simon. I'll see you then."

He smiles, nodding softly as he runs his hands through his hair, the gelled effect must have worn off because it was back to its shaggy state, almost getting to the point it reached his eyes. He needed a haircut, but it's not like you didn't like the shaggy look. It was unexpectedly sexy.

Maybe it was just your hormones talking but everything about this man was unexpectedly sexy. His tired eyes from sleepless nights and early mornings, his tatted arms, a few of the tattoos colored in with what seemed like marker from Oliver, and his tall frame, almost towering over you to the point you had to look up to see his face.

You did suggest that he should get laid, but maybe you're the one who really needed the action. It's been who knows how long, and your getting so desperate that you literally can't look at him without butterflies fluttering in your stomach as well as..further south.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

After sending Simon and his son home, you immediately ran to your bedroom, quickly stripping out of your clothes and hopping into the warm water of your shower. With your back to the water and your hands in your hair, you can't help but let your mind wander back to your neighbor.

What was he doing right now? Was he helping Oliver brush his teeth? Was he just getting into the shower too? Was his shower water warm or cool? Did he have tattoos elsewhere? What did the soap look like running down his chest and down his legs..?

Okay, you need to go to bed. Sleep would do the trick. Right?

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

Wrong. Sleep 100% didn't do the trick. Two full days of almost nothing but sleep and this man has been filling your head with thought of him, some more naughty than other. He had crawled into your dreams, your thoughts, and your daily life in general. You cant even pour creamer into your coffee without seeing his smug ass face in your mug.

It was now the weekend, around 7pm on a Saturday. The sun had already gone down and you were sitting in your living room, a random cheesy rom com on the television as you scrolled on your phone. You scrolled through your feed, seeing videos of your college friends out partying, drinking, and having fun. Then there was you, sitting at home with day old mascara on your lashes and sleep evident on your face.

There was a heavy knock on your door, with a raised brow you hop up from your couch and make your way over to the door, peaking through the peep hole to see who it was. And to your surprise, it was exactly who you were thinking of.

There Simon stood, a bottle of champagne and a single red rose in his hands as he bounces on his heels, he was back to his regular shaggy look, unkempt hair, white t-shirt, blue jeans, and his silver dog tag hanging from his neck.

Quickly, you open the door with a smile and invite the man in. As he walks in towards your kitchen counter you quickly become aware of your appearance. Old makeup on your face, and crinkled clothes that you couldn't be bothered to iron.

However, at this point the two of you have seen each other at your worst, hell you've seen Simon running off of two hours of sleep with a sick little Oliver who wouldn't stop crying and coughing.

"Champagne and a rose? This feels like a date to me.." You tease running a hand across his shoulder as you pass him, earning a shiver from the man. you stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island as he takes a seat on one of the barstool chairs you have, sliding the bottle towards you.

"Take it however you want love." He laughs, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face, his bicep flexing in the process, and holy fuck.

You shake your head and pop open the bottle of champagne. "I'm glad I know you and Oliver, he's a good kid."

"You're such a big help with the little guy, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. He loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he twirls the rose between his fingertips.

You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago but have never used. You swear you still had them.

"It's no biggy. He's a joy to have around and probably one of my only friends!" You laugh, sighing after you cant find those dumbass champagne glasses and grabbing two mugs out of the cabinet instead. Not quite what you'd normally drink something like champagne out of, but it would have to work.

"So I'm not considered a friend? I see how it is," Simon fakes a hurt expression as he takes a mug from you with a raised brow. His shoulders shake in silent laughter after he looks at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in big black lettering.

You laugh along with him, "Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering.

There the two of you sat, at your kitchen island drinking cheap champagne out of coffee mugs with a single red rose placed between the two of you.

-

After a few hours and an entire bottle of champagne, the two of you sat on your couch together, a movie on your tv.

You sat with your legs draped across Simons lap, his hand resting on your knee as his fingers gently rubbed circles into your skin. It tickled, but in a good way.

You fought sleep, your eyelids slowly shutting and reopening. Your breath was calm and slow, a comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you.

"Gettin' sleepy love?" Simon asks with a chuckle, his deep blue eyes lingering on you as he rubs up and down the length of your leg.

You don't bother answering verbally, you don't have the energy. You shake your head in a quiet and small 'no', your hand coming up to rub your eyes. What time was it? It couldn't be that late.

With a groan, you sit up and grab your phone off of the coffee table, tapping your screen a few times for it to turn on. Your screen nearly blinds you, a curse falling from you lips as Simon merely chuckles next to you. 11:57. Almost midnight already? You thought, there's no way.

Simon peaks over your shoulder and shakes his head, running his hands over his face with a yawn. "Surely I haven't been here all that long, it's definitely past our bedtimes," he teases as he moves your legs off of his, standing from the couch with a stretch, his shirt lifting, showing off a fucking happy trail. This man was too hot for his own good. It had to be a crime at this point.

You stand next to him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you yawn, making your way lazily towards the direction of your bedroom.

"I better get ta' goin'-" Simon begins, before you cut him off.

"Oh please, theres no way in hell you came over here just to hang out as friends, Simon." Your voice is low as you stand before him, your bodies mere inches apart as you stare up at him. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, and those god damn dimples shining through as he smirks down at you. You fuckin' knew it.

His arms wrap around your waist, his face nearing yours as he walks you backwards into your kitchen, your hips hitting the kitchen island. "I've been caught."

His breath smelling of cheap champagne and cigarettes as his lips grazed yours. His lips are soft as he finally kisses you, fitting perfectly against yours.

Simons hands remove themselves from your waist, landing on the kitchen island, trapping you between him and the counter. You deepen the kiss, standing on your tippy toes to match his force, earning an audible groan from the blonde man in front of you.

When the kiss ends, nothing but heavy panting and quiet curses fill the air. "Fuckin' hell love.." he whispers against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up and down your warm skin.

Quiet whimpers leave your lips as his lips work their way up to your ear, where he whispers a phrase that makes your knees want to buckle. "Get on the fuckin' counter doll, I've waited far to long for this and my tongue is tingling for your taste.."

Obviously, you do as he says, hopping up onto the cool granite. "Atta girl," he says, his voice raspy as he tugs the waistband of your pants down, pulling them off your legs as if he's been craving you for years. Maybe he has been..

In a swift motion he pushed you onto your back, earning a quiet yelp from you as your back touched the cold surface. With his eyes glued on your panties and his hands on your plush thighs you can't help but whimper, letting your head fall back onto the counter top.

"Fuckin hell lovie, you're already so wet..." Simon says through gritted teeth, the pad of this thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit, the feeling of the pressure over the fabric of your panties was enough for you to clench around nothing.

"Simon please-" you whimper, your hips rolling against his touch, eager for more. This draws a chuckle from the man in front of you, he pulls his hand away with a smug smirk on his lips.

Not another word is shared between the two of you before Simon is kneeled on the tile flooring and he has your legs over his shoulders, his face at perfect height with your core. He pulls your panties to the side, groaning at the sight before him. He was so fucking hard right now, straining against the zipper of his pants.

He blows a cool puff of air against your cunt, watching as it flutters before it, his smirk never falters as he runs his thumb over your cunt, coving his finger in your juices.

"Riley I swear to the gods, if you don't stop playing with your food-" you begin, getting cut off with his tongue against your slit and his thumb rubbing circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue works in and out of you, flicking and sucking, the noises that fill the kitchen are positively hypnotic. Your whimpers and moans mixed with the wet noises of Simons tongue between your legs. And to top it off, every time you buck your hips against his face he moans, a low growl like noise that makes you absolutely drip.

Simon is only using one hand to hold open your legs, his right hand has traveled down to his pants, unzipping his jeans and finally giving himself that oh so needed friction that he's been deprived of. His tongue goes flat against your cunt, his head shaking side to side, flicking his tongue every so often, just enough to catch the tip of your clit.

He palms himself through his boxers, rutting into the palm of his hand. "You like that baby? You're gettin' louder.." he teases as he sucks on your clit, causing your back to arch off of the counter top and your hands to fly to his hair, tugging on the blonde strands, pressing his face into your greedy little cunt even more.

"Simon! Right fucking there, please please please..." You moan, your thighs threatening to close around his head as your legs shake with pleasure. Your breath is quick and your moans are loud as Simon god damn Riley holds your legs open, sucking and licking your clit, you were about to fall apart right then and there, but after he shoves two fingers into your cunt you absolutely crumble.

The orgasm rushes throughout your body, your grip on his hair tight. He doesn't stop though, his tongue stays glued to your clit, his fingers moving at a pace that makes your writhe, drawing out this heavenly orgasm as long as he can.

You're already fucked out as he pulls his fingers out of you, kissing your fluttering cunt, kissing up your torso and tugging your shirt over your head to kiss all the way up your lips. This kiss was everything passionate, the taste of you still lingering on his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy and your chest rises with a quick pace, still trying to come down from your high. Sweat glitters your skin, your panties hanging from your ankle and your mascara running down your cheeks. "So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous baby.." Simon whispers as he kissed you on the forehead, running his hands over your cheeks. "But we're not done yet, no no no, this night isn't over until I fill you up so full that Oliver will have a fucking sibling by tomorrow.." His voice is deep and sultry, pulling you up off the counter by your wrists and tossing you over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes.

With a yelp from you, Simon gives a little smacks to your ass. His quick strides make it to your bedroom in no time at all. He tossed you on the bed, you landing on your back, your toes bouncing along with the mattress, earning a low curse from the man in front of you. He stands at the end of your bed, quickly pulling his pants and boxers off of himself. He can't go another fucking second without being inside of you.

The image of this man crawling on top of you, his ink covered arms on either side of your head and your legs on either side of your hips as he pressed against you. It was all so much, your cunt was dripping, and from what you could see so was the tip of his cock.

Holy shit his cock, it was huge, veins running up and down the length of it. You figured he was from the start, but now that it's in front of you, how the hell will it all fit?

His hands reach for your thighs, pushing them up so your knees neared your ears, the tip of his cock teases the entrance of your cunt, the bead of pre-cum smearing all over your clit. You wiggle your hips, eager for something, anything but this fucking torturous teasing that this man seems so obsessed with.

"Simon.." You moan, earning a groan from the man. His eyes have not left you this entire time, his gaze wandering up and down your figure with a look of biting desire.

"Moaning my name like that..fuck," He groans through gritted teeth, pressing the tip of his cock inside, fucking finally.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, biting down on your bottom lip as you grip the sheets.

Simons eyes shut with pleasure as he pushes into you. Only to open once again to watch your face, watching for any looks of displeasure, he makes it about half way when your eyebrows furrow and your hand flies to his torso, pressing against his abdomen as a way to tell him to stop for a second.

"It's okay lovie, breath, you're taking me so well.." He whispers, leaning down to kiss your cheek, kissing away a single stray tear that had seemingly rolled down your cheek. Slowly, he continues to push into you, the two of you share a mutual moan as he finally bottoms out, his stomach pressed flush against your clit.

"Good girl, my good girl baby, yes.." He moans, his hands under your knees as he holds one leg over his shoulder and the other off the the side.

Your whimpers, his groans, and the smell of sex fills the bedroom. You rock your hips, indicating the need for friction. With pleasure, Simon gives you what you needs, rolling his hips and pulling out about half way before slamming back inside you. Your loud moans and pleases for more, more, more fill the room, causing Simon to let out a guttural groan, hai cock twitching inside of you.

Simon shifted his hips, dragging his cock out of you. It glistened with your arousal, and it made his face grow hot. He bit back a whimper when he pushed inside you once more. You gasped, and he did it again. Again and again until he had a set a rhythm that had your entire body on fire, writhing against the mattress.

"Yes yes, fuck Simon, makin' m' feel so good, I-" You whimper, your legs shaking and your eyes squeezed shut out of pure pleasure.

Simon had reached a hand down and was now rubbing circles on your clit. Your words had his brain swimming, his thrusts deepening and pace quickening. The tight ball of pleasure was drawing tighter and tighter in the base of your tummy, your cunt fluttering around his cock.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good..wanna put a fuckin baby in you lovie..." His voice is low, his groans turning into whimpers as his thrusts become sloppy, he's nearing his own climax. Your own peak is nearing, your cunt fluttering around his cock, clenching and squeezing as he moves at a pace that is absolutely intoxicating.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered. "Come on my cock. That's it, baby, yeah– good fuckin' girl."

His finger moves quickly against your clit, rubbing as his cock bullies in and out of your greedy little cunt. The force of his thrusts make your tits bounce, earning deep and needy groans from the back of Simons throat.

You came around his cock with a sob of his name, your cunt squeezing him tight as the ball of pressure snapped in your tummy. Your orgasm was hard, slamming over you and rendering you breathless, your head floating. Your clit pulsed beneath the movements of his fingers.

The tightness of your cunt earned a fucked out moan from Simon as he slams in and out of you, reaching even deeper than before. You wanted to scream. He was so deep. You were so full.

"Such a good girl, suck a greedy little cunt— so tight I don't think I'll be able to pull out-, yes baby.." He blabbered helplessly as he becomes utterly pussydrunk, his head lolling back and his eyes closing with pleasure.

"M'gonna come in this tight cunt," Si whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. He spoke louder when he continued his sentence. "You want my cum, baby? You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up, fill this pretty tummy?"

"Yes! Please—!" You practically scream.

"I will— I'll fill you up with all of my fuckin' cum.." He moans, his thrusts sloppy and his grip on your thighs bruising. "Take it all like a good girl," he moaned. "Get you–fuck —get you pregnant. Fill you up with my kids. I'd look after you, baby."

You were basically screaming.

And with that Simon cums, your name falling from his lips as the white hot liquid spills from his cock into you. He doesn't pull out, tugging you up so that you straddled his hips, his hands on your as as he holds you up, him leaning back against the heels of his feet. The two of you share a tender kiss, his lips softly kissing your lips, cheeks, and neck.

"Fuckin' hell love.." He laughs, his voice raspy. He finally pulls out, a deep groan slipping from his lips as he watches his cum drip out of that sweet little cunt. Carefully, he lays you back down on the mattress, staring down at you with low eyes and a small smile on his lips.

"You were so good just now, you know that? So beautiful, so fuckin' hot-" He moves so he's laid beside you, his chest pressed against your back as he rubs small circles on your hip with his finger. "-I loved your moans, and the feeling of your pussy..just stay like this with me for a second, yeah?" His hand runs up and down your side, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as his breath tickles the back of your neck.

What an odd feeling. It all felt as if everything had always been like this. As if the two of you were meant to be, and this was all just natural.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

Simon and You sit in your living room together, his hand on your thigh and Oliver running back and forth with a superman action figure in hand making a 'swooshhh' sound with his mouth.

The promise ring on your finger sparkles as you look down at it, you can't take your eyes off the damn thing. It's been a week since he's given it to you, but every time you eye catches the little piece of jewelry you can't help but stare.

Three years of crushing and helping him raise his kid. One night of his name being moaned and orgasm after orgasm. Two weeks form that night he asked you out. It's been four months since he asked you to be his girlfriend. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. But not, at the same time. It feels like you've know each other forever so it was natural. Nothing odd about falling in love so quickly.

Or maybe the love has always been there, it was the commitment and the confessions and the confusing mixed signals that were messing with the process.

But in the end everything had fallen in place. Simon still lives next door, but that is gonna change soon. He spends more and more time over at your place than his own. Both his and Oliver's clothes litter your laundry, and instead of one lonely toothbrush in the bathroom, there's now three.

Pink, Blue, and a tiny red one for Oliver.

This was how it was meant to be. Simon, Oliver, and you. And possibly another one. Simon is pretty eager for that addition. Now that was a little fast even for you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

a/n: not to singledad!simon anymore. <33

p.s.- i tagged everyone who i saw asked to be, sorry if i missed ya! and thank you all so so much for all the love. i love all of ya so so much! <33

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Dick had to give it to the kid, he'd somehow thought of everything. It was a little concerning, actually, but the kid had brushed off every attempt had probing for answers. Who trained him? If he was trained at all. ...had the kid gone into vigilantism alone? Oh, dear. THat's not good fro Dick's current worries.

Reading the file Danny had handed him, Dick had to wonder how long it had taken him to put together this cover story. Also, where he'd managed to get the equipment to do it. At a glance, the kid didn't seem to have much on him. Not even a phone!

He closed the folder and set it back down on the table. "Really?" he asked, "'Congratulations, it's a boy'?"

Danny's cheeks turned a bit red as his gaze shifted to the folder. "Well, yeah. You're stuck with me now until I can get you into good habits and a healthier schedule."

"That implies that you're planning on leaving."

Danny shrugged, all his confidence now fading away. Is this what he's really like? "Well, I mean, I'm sure you don't want me sticking around at all, let alone for a while."

Dick frowned and looked back at the black folder and the binder sitting on his coffee table. God, his apartment's a mess! He smiled at Danny. "My name's Richard, but everyone calls me 'Dick'. You can stay in the guest room."

Danny lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Yep. You went to all this work, it'd be a shame if it all went to waste."

The grin on Danny's face was more than worth the security risk that he now posed. "You won't regret it, Mr. Dick!"

Dick smiled back at him, "Please, drop the formalities. We're cousins, apparently."

Was he attached? No. He wouldn't allow himself to get attached. Sure, maybe he was letting this kid - he really needs to start calling him Danny - stay with him for a while, but he wasn't going to get attached. Getting attached meant losing him. Dick wasn't sure he'd be able to survive if he lost someone again.

...damn it.

***

First order of business, now that Danny was officially Dick's - why would he willingly go by that nickname? - ward/cousin, Danny was going to make sure he got some sleep. Today was Dick's day off, so Danny had sent him to his room to take a much needed nap. The man was basically dead on his feet and Danny would be damned if he let him wander around this mess of an apartment with blurry vision.

The second thing he did, once he was sure Dick was asleep, was start to clean up. The place was a stereotypical bachelor's pad, complete with questionable stains in the carpet, rips in the cushions, dishes piled up in the sink, and old take-out on every table and counter. Gross.

He made quick work of the old take-out by throwing it all away and hitting it with a very small and controlled ectoblast. He was so glad Dick had disposable gloves on hand.

The dishes were the next thing he handed. The water was cleaner than in Gotham, so he didn't worry about washing the dishes by hand when they all didn't fit in the dishwasher. He dried the ones he'd hand washed before putting them away. Dick had no organisation in his cupboards, so Danny fixed that, too.

The fridge and freezer weren't too bad. Sure, the dairy products had all expired and most of the food was freezer bitten, but none of it was moldy yet and the appliance itself was in perfect working order. He'd have to go shopping later.

Danny had never liked cleaning, but he'd had to when his parents refused to follow any OSHA laws or Lab Safety courses. So, when he found the cleaning supplies, he took a deep breath and began scrubbing the bathroom. It wasn't too bad, thank god, and was already fairly clean. It was quick and he was able to move on very quickly.

The counters, tables, walls, and tile and wooden floors were all easy to clean with a wet rag and a broom. He wasn't going to even try saving the rug because it looked well beyond the point of no return. The couch and chair cushions could be sticked up, but he didn't have a sewing needle and thread with him.

The last thing he did before taking his backpack into the room he'd been given was to write down a shopping list and leave it on the counter. It wasn't a lot, just food and some dishes and toiletries. He'd have to figure out with Dick a way to pay rent, too, but that was a later Danny problem. He'd tired himself out and was still running on pretty much empty. So, he allowed himself to fall asleep. He'd check on Dick when he woke up.

Part 4 Part 6

Tag List:

@flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581

[kaiser1ns]

𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗼𝘂/𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝘀𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲)

╹synopsis :: you just wanted to eat something but your boyfriend said no.

╹contents :: fluff, tw : tomatoes (i hate tomatoes), but I love oranges, just two menaces to society trying their best to be good boyfriends

SHIDOU RYUSEI

Sitting in your apartment with your boyfriend while he made a sandwich for the two of you to share during lunch. "Don't put so many tomatoes." You pointed it out from the table. "Shut up and enjoy that I'm making you a damn sandwich."

"I hate tomatoes."

"You hate everything."

"Ryusei! Just don't put so much product on the sandwich!" You watched him as he gave you a pointed look while he picked up another slice of tomato and placed it on the bread. You stood up, ready to go smack him right in the smug look on his face when you realized something.

"Rin was right." You said it out loud with a disgusted look on your face. "Now that's a joke," The blonde said as he began to add more condiments to the sandwich that you wanted to eat but now, you lost appetite.

"We bicker constantly." He shrugged, "So?"

"So? We are like a cat and a dog. Constantly picking at one another."

"Technically, you're constantly picking at me."

"Seriously?" You crossed your arms over your chest and he looked up and smiled. "You do things just to piss me off!" You accused, Shidou scoffed, "As if!"

"I'm not joking."

"I'm not either," he put the other piece of bread on the sandwich and took a huge bite. You rolled your eyes and stormed out of the room, not wanting him to see your eyes filing with tears.

"Babe!" He followed you, grabbing your arm and stopping you before you could make it into your bedroom. "I'm sorry, I'll be serious now don't be upset."

You sniffed, "Can we be a normal couple for once and not fight for the most stupid things? "

He was trying really hard not to laugh, "All couples have little fights now and then."

You sniffed, wiping away your tears, pulling you into his chest and holding you close. "I happen to like our little fights."

This surprised you, "What?" He chuckled and rocked you both a bit as he held you in his arms. "It's how I know we are okay. When you pick at me I know you don't mean harm by it. I know you're just being you and you love me. It's when you aren't talking to me that I get worried."

He pulled away from you, cupping your face with his hands and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, and I love our dynamic. I wouldn't change us for the world. Besides, someone has to keep you on your toes~"

You rolled your eyes, but let Ryusei pull you in for a loving kiss. When he pulled away he smiled down at you, handing his phone "Want to order something instead?"

You grinned "Yes, please."

He nipped at your lips again before turning to head back into the kitchen. "Good because the sandwich I made is way too delicious to share it with you."

You scoffed, and a smile soon followed. You loved your dynamic with him too, but sometimes you just wanted to kill him, lovingly of course.

ITOSHI RIN

You slumped onto the couch, exhausted from a long day at work. Glancing at the fruit bowl on the coffee table your eyes landed on a plump, juicy orange. Sighing, you turned to your boyfriend, who was sitting beside you, scrolling through his phone.

"Rin, can you peel me an orange? I'm so tired to even lift my hand." you asked, your voice weary. Rin, without looking up, shook his head. "Not right now, Y/N. I'm in the middle of something."

You pouted, leaning your head on his shoulder, "Please? Just one orange. It won't take long."

He sighed, still not tearing his eyes away from his screen. "Y/N, no. Why don't you peel it yourself? It's not that hard."

You groaned, too tired to argue further, and as you let youself sink deeper into the couch cushions. A heavy silence settled between the couple, and soon enough, your eyes fluttered closed as you drifted off into a nap.

When you woke up, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun. Stretching lazily and then noticed something on the coffee table. There, sitting in the center, was a perfectly peeled orange, arranged in neat segments. Beside it was a small, folded note. Curious, you picked it up and unfolded it, revealing Rin's familiar handwriting.

— Sorry for being stubborn earlier. Enjoy your orange.

A smile appeared on your face as you popped a piece of the orange into your mouth. You looked over at Rin, who was now napping in the armchair, and felt a rush of affection. Quietly, you tiptoed over, pecking his soft lips, and whispered, "Thank you."

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[xxsabitoxx]

"Satoru, enough." you sound exasperated, tired eyes glaring at your laptop screen as you try to find another peer-reviewed article for your essay topic. However, you had to admit nothing was getting done and it wasn't only because of your boyfriend. "Satoru, enough~" He practically sang back to you, that same shit-eating grin plastered to his face. His hands were finding their way to your thighs again, only stopping when you would reach down and swat him away with one of your signature death glares. So, you repeated the motion again, slapping his hands off of you but not bothering to look at him.

"C'mon, sweetheart you've been glued to your laptop since you got home from work." He somehow managed to sound just as exasperated as you had. "Because I have things due, Satoru." It wasn't a lie, but the essay wasn't due for a few days. You could certainly afford to hold off on it for another day, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to stop. "Yeah, well, I'll pay off the professor. I want your attention," he whined again, this time flinching when your hand came down to grab his wrist before he could touch you. "And I am busy, go bother someone else." the bite in your tone didn't bother him at all, if anything it made his cock twitch.

"You wound me." Satoru's hand came up to splay over his heart, head falling back dramatically as he looked at you. "Good." was all you uttered, the tension in your shoulders only adding to your aggression as you fought the urge to throw your laptop. Nothing you had tried to read in the last twenty minutes registered in your brain and one single paragraph was glaring back at you on your Word doc. Now add Satoru teasing the shit out of you every fifteen seconds... you were going to snap or self-destruct, it depended on Satoru at this point.

"Just take a damn break, you're getting bitchy." He smirked at you, watching your entire body tense as your neck nearly snapped with the force you used to turn your head. "Do you have a death wish, Satoru?" your jaw was clenched, if looks could kill, Satoru would be dead four times over by now. "I do, but that's beside the point. You couldn't lay a finger on me and have it cause damage." he sneered, trying to ignore the blood flow to his dick as you got steadily worked up. He wasn't sure if it could be classified as a kink, but Satoru got off on you being pissed. He craved your hand slapping his skin and your nails digging into his scalp. He would do whatever it took to get you mad just to see that adorable pout on your face.

You knew this by now, and it wasn't hard to miss the strain forming in his sweats. "You're sick and twisted, Satoru." You refused to close your laptop, giving your boyfriend one last disinterested look before your eyes settled on a random point on your screen. You wouldn't give in to his games. "You fucking love it." he moved closer, hand resting on your thigh and squeezing harshly when you couldn't move fast enough to slap him away. You gasped, body shivering at the sensation before you recollected yourself and tried to swat him away. "I'm serious, Satoru. Leave me alone." but Satoru was smarter than that. "You haven't typed anything worthwhile on that word doc. Let me take care of you, I can clear your head real fucking fast."

Your answer was rolling your eyes, earning a low rumble of laughter from your boyfriend. That was the nail in the coffin, you could only yell in protest as he snatched your laptop off of your lap and tossed it over to the chair beside your couch. "Satoru!" You squeaked, heart dropping to your ass as he flung the object. "Relax." was all he said in return, catching you while your guard was down and pushing you onto the couch. You let out a string of curses, awkwardly pressed face-first into the cushion as Satoru grabbed both of your wrists and restrained them behind your back. "Just relax."

[crestapex]

Boop!

Everyone’s getting booped by kitty paws on tumblr right now so in honor of that here’s big boy Simon with the cat he didn’t want 🐾 I also didn’t give a description for the cat aside from being a kitten in case you wanted to imagine this kitten as your own LOL

Oh, that cat. That damned cat. That’s what Simon thinks, anyways. At first.

He was never too much of a pet person. He loves animals, for sure, but given his choice of career and the way he grew up, pets were just never really in the question. So, when you came home one day with a tiny, soaking wet kitten in your arms, he wasn’t exactly too pleased about it. Not because you were being kind and treating the small critter—that you found huddled up on the side of the road—to some proper care and a warm meal. It wasn’t even because it was a cat, he liked cats a lot, actually. He just never planned on owning one.

And that was exactly why it all had to deal with the fact that he knew the tiny little thing wasn’t going anywhere. A permanent resident of the Riley household. He’d have to pry it from your cold, dead hands. It was no longer just you and him—it was now you, him, and this kitten you now referred to as your child. Not even your child, our child.

So, here he was, staring down at his laptop in complete disbelief. He only left it there for a minute, just to grab a quick snack and return right back. Are you serious right now? He internally questioned, his eyes scanning the trail that lead to the ‘child’ clawing at the armrest on the opposite end of the couch.

Big, wet paw prints decorated the new laptop he had just bought. A trail of them leading from the wet-food bowl in the kitchen, across the wooden floor, and over the couch cushions. He looked over at the culprit, rubbing its furry body all over the armrest, dragging its tiny claws in and out of the fabric. The kitten seemed to have paid no mind to Simon, who found himself sighing and groaning in frustration, crossing his arms and bringing his fingers up to rub the croaked bridge of his nose. He grumbled something to himself, something unintelligible, maybe a few curses here and there.

“Sweetheart!” He called out to you, his voice gruff, laced with clear annoyance.

You quickly came into view, rounding the entrance of the crammed hallway in your cozy little flat. You looked up and over at him, having yet to notice the mighty mess that the small kitten had made. “What’s up?” You asked, brows raised as you began to leisurely walk over to your beloved.

Simon, on the hand, didn’t respond for a half-second, instead staring at you with his permanent R.B.F. that had only slightly softened up since you came into his life. “The cat,” he plainly said, gesturing to the kitten that resided on the couch.

“What about ‘the cat’?” You said, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. Well, he was still getting used to the new addition to your guys’ little family, that much was obvious.

“Love, am I the only one seein’ this?” He quickly responded, his deep British accent thickening. He now gestured a hand to the paw-print stained couch, and his laptop.

Your eyes followed suit, your arms quickly dropping to your sides and your eyes widening at the sight of a path of little bean-prints decorating the sofa, which you had just cleaned hours ago. You followed the path, and Simon watched as you took in the trail of destruction your new furry friend had caused. How are you just now noticing this? Perhaps you were blinded by the pure love and affection for your kitten that, in your eyes, no evil wrong-doings could be done, not by your precious angel baby.

“Oh… shit,” you turned back to look at Simon, his own gaze set firmly on your kitten. “I, uh, I’ll clean this up,” you nodded, giving him an awkward smile. “Watch our baby, please,” you pleaded, turning on your heel and practically speed-walking into the kitchen.

He watched as you gathered all the kitchen towels you could find, as you pulled open the cabinets under the sink and grabbed a bottle of blue liquid. Sigh. He turned away, watching the kitten intently. He couldn’t be mad at you, it wasn’t your fault, technically. No, it was the god of destruction over here’s fault, the progenitor of chaos. The…

Simon silently walked over to the opposite end of the couch, staring down at the small beast. Its tail swaying wildly, quickly catching its attention, and Simon watched a sort of glint in his eyes. Watching as the kitten jumped around, stretching its paws out as far as it could to try and catch and eliminate the weird, furry snake that seemed to follow it around everywhere. The fur around its little pink beans still stained with the remnants of mushy cat food, though no longer wet and painting everything in sight, at least.

How could such a small critter do so much? Have so much… spunk? The brute of a man hadn’t even noticed the way his brows relaxed at the sight of the little fiend.

He bent down, scooping up the kitten in the palm of his hands, then placing it in the crook of his arm. He was just making sure it didn’t go anywhere, that it couldn’t do anymore damage than had already been done, he reasoned with himself… So small and fragile, he could swear that a single pinch from him would break its bones. That if he were a cat tower this little kitten would never get bored, there would always be a new part to explore.

He watched intently, watched as the kitten laid on its back, quickly finding the drawstrings of his jacket. Watched as it extended its little arms and swung its paws wildly, whacking the dangling drawstrings as it fell entranced by such a simple object. Occasionally, the kitten would miss, tiny claws and beans accidentally digging into the fabric of his jacket, an almost unnoticeable smack at his chest.

He hummed, contently, surprisingly. It was stupidly adorable, but he would never admit that, not after the events that had just taken place. Yet, he couldn’t even stop himself from wrapping a hand around the kitten, bringing the creature up to his eye level, because all it took was one hand, two hands would be too much. He was about ready to scold it, to finally let loose his inner cat-dad.

God, he hoped that you weren’t secretly watching. That you were too busy picking up the big mess that such a tiny kitten had made. Besides, you would never again let him live peacefully without teasing him if you saw the way a stained paw reached out and placed itself gently on his nose. A just barely audible chirp and subtle purring emanating from the creature.

That damned cat, he scowled. It was too good at this, even better than you at working its way into his frozen heart. A heart that was beginning to melt.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Pillow Talk- Vox x Reader

(Banner made by my love, @fraugwinska 💛❤️💛)

A Vee Tower maid, you get an eyeful- and more- when stuck hiding in Vox's closet after Alastor comes back to town.

Tags: the Alastor body pillow; Dry Humping? I think that's what it would be; Accidental Voyeurism; Cunnilingus; One-Sided Alastor/Vox; Vaginal Sex; improper use of electricity lol; maid outfit; a tiny bit of hypnosis but not regarding the sex

[this is almost a crack fic honestly I laughed way too much writing it xD this was inspired by a few pieces of art- as soon as I can find the artists I'll link them below!]

So technically, you weren’t supposed to be here. The entire cleaning crew knew that the main apartments of the Vees were off limits unless they specifically asked for them to be serviced- you, specifically, would not be a welcome sight, especially by the CEO.

But when Vox had spotted you outside his office he had barely spared you a enough of a glance to get his hypnotic eye swirling before he had very explicitly stated, “I want every single thing in here put back where it belongs,” and apparently, to your will-bent limbs that meant even the fucking throw pillow on the couch needed to be returned to his home.

The blue striped fabric clutched in your arms, cleaning supplies left in one of the numerous cleaning closets, your feet took you to the elevator, pressing the button for the elevator to take you up to the penthouse. You were sweating a bit in your uniform- despite how little fabric the damn thing had (courtesy of Valentino deciding “if we have to fuckin’ look at them they might as well be hot” when hiring a cleaning crew, apparently) you were still nervous about going against established orders for implied ones. If Vox found out you had been in his section of the penthouse, in his room, Satan only knew what he would do to you.

That shouldn’t have excited you a little as you thought it, but it does- your breath comes a little quicker as you had entered the key code to Vox’s sector of the penthouse floor, thankfully empty as you enter and where you now stand. The television is playing something from the news, Vox sat at his desk with some sharp toothed red deer demon in the frame with him, mouth turned down into a frown and spewing vitriol- you caught some snippets of speech from the low volume, something about him being a fossil, outdated, et cetera. It wasn’t surprising- Vox and all of the Vees were all about innovation, updates, upgrades. If this guy was into older tech it made sense that he would take personal offense to that.

When you try to toss the cushion onto the couch your arm freeze, unwilling to release the fabric- which meant it wasn’t a couch pillow but a bedroom one, and your feet turn to take you in that direction. The door opens without a lock, and the room that greets you is a little neater than you would expect from the CEO of the company, being as prone to outbursts that the staff had to clean up as he was. The bed was made up, and finally your compelled brain allows you to throw the pillow out of your grasp to bounce harmlessly on the bed. Order satisfied, you’re about to turn to leave when the lights snap out with an audible click.

You freeze in the darkness, worried somehow that you’ve been caught, but they flicker on mere moments later. Another tentative step towards the door, and that’s when you hear it- a crackle of electricity from the living room, not unlike an arc flash, one that you’ve heard enough times working in this building to know what it means.

Vox is back.

In hindsight, it was fucking stupid. You probably had better luck explaining yourself, telling him that his command earlier had forced you up here against your better judgment because of course, Vox, sir, you knew that the penthouses were off limits. But your prey brain reverted to instinct, doe ears dropping against your head, and you bolted to the nearest safety- the closet. 

You can hear him coming closer, his voice increasing in volume- “that ancient fucker, thinks he can just come back to my fucking town, in my fucking section like he never- fucking dammit, Bambi, I can’t believe-” He just keeps going and you shuffle further back into the clothing around you, the smell of his soft cologne enveloping you as you descend. You can see light peeking through the slats of the doors, and it vanishes as he quickly approaches. The door flies open and you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for a sharp clawed hand to land on your arm and haul you out but it never comes.

He grabs something close to you, something soft you had been inadvertently leaning against, and slams the closet door closed again so hard that it swings back open, another crack that light leaks through. Despite your better judgment you lean forward, peek through the slats of the door at what is happening in the room. He throws the item he had grabbed against the bed, and it bounces at an angle so that you can see what it is.

A body pillow- with that guy from the television on it, his red outfit unmistakable even not knowing who he was just from a quick glance. He wears a sly smile on his face, eyes half-lidded over a monocle, a frankly stupid haircut that came to his shoulders with tiny antlers peeking out of it. Vox is still bitching, and this time you catch a name: Alastor. Your boss kicks his shoes off, rips his jacket from his frame, and falls to his knees on the mattress, bringing the pillow close and slotting it between his thighs.

You stop breathing.

He falls forward and braces himself on one hand, the other scrambling at his fly to bring out an impressive erection that you can tell even from this distance must be painful, faintly glowing a bright blue at the tip before fading to the darker shade of his normal skin at the base. He strokes himself once, spreads what looks like a fair amount of precum over his length before he releases his grip and dips his hips into the pillow, now free hand clutching at the fabric between his fingers. 

“Alastor,” he moans, and the low timbre of it shoots straight through your core, thighs clenching together as you stand stockstill in the darkness of the closet. “Oh fuck, Alastor, Al- fuck, fuck,” and his hips are driving into the pillow all the while, the bright tip of his cock occasionally peeking into view from your vantage point. 

You bring a hand up to clamp over your mouth, to try and muffle your breathing as you watch the private act and shift closer to the wider gap in the doors for a better view- slowly, silently. His voice is dark and delicious as he groans into the seemingly empty room, unrestrained in his pleasure. The hand braced on the bed is shredding the sheets, bits of fabric floating up into the air with the force of his claws dragging into them- the one on the pillow is surprisingly gentle, clenched lightly where the hair is on the image of the demon that adorns it.

Your body aches at the apex of your thighs, slick and throbbing just at the sights and sounds before you- if you made it out of this, if Vox didn’t discover and immediately kill you for witnessing this, you were going to have the most phenomenal orgasm of your fucking afterlife the moment you could get yourself alone. You’ve never wanted to be a pillow so badly in all of your existence- Hell, you’ve never wanted to be a pillow period but Vox was making it look downright tantalizing to be shoved between his legs and thrust against. 

He’s still going, his lower body moving rhythmically against the pillow and still muttering under his breath- “Alastor, Alastor, Alastor,” like he’s in a trance, can’t stop himself from saying it. His voice catches in his throat, hips stuttering then stilling while shoved hard against the pillow, collapsing against the mattress with a frustrated groan.

Everything is quiet for a moment, the only sound your muffled breathing against your hand as you peek through the door at the VoxTek CEO. Your spare hand itches for movement at your side, but you refuse- absolutely refuse- to get yourself off in your boss’ closet with him less than five feet away. You fist your fingers in the poofy fabric of the Val-approved maid uniform that the crew was made to wear, and you wait.

When Vox pulls his head up from the mattress, his screen is tinted pink in embarrassment even thinking no one can see him- he looks down at the pillow with such an earnest expression of longing that you feel embarrassed and avert your gaze for a moment, until he scoffs and you look back up to a sight you’re more familiar with. His face is twisted in anger now, and his claws hover menacingly over Alastor’s face before he snarls in disgust- at himself? At the other man?- and clambers off the bed. You watch his body move across the room, lithe muscles flexing as he moves, and only when he exits the room do you heave out the breath you had been holding, taking your hand away from your mouth.

You hear the rushing sound of water that indicates that the shower has been turned on, and you make perhaps the dumbest decision you’ve ever made- you stay in the closet instead of taking these precious few moments of him being out of the room to book it out of the penthouse. You’re not thinking clearly, so preoccupied with the arousal that it wars inside your body with the logical part of your brain saying to get the fuck out. But you’re surrounded by the sweet, heady scent of his cologne, the rough sounds of his groaning still echoing in your ears, and with your eyes slipping closed you slide a hand up under your skirt; you didn’t end up in Hell by sticking to the concept of chastity, after all.

Your free hand fists in the fabric of his shirts that hang next to your face, bringing them closer to breathe in the scent of him. The sounds he made echo in your mind, your fingers brushing lightly against the dampness of your panties, hand dipping inside them to graze your clit-

The closet door flies open, the light falling across your body and illuminating what is clearly a shocking sight to the Overlord if the glitching of his screen is anything to go by- one hand holds the Alastor pillow in a death grip, obviously about to toss it back into the closet after wiping it down with a damp rag (the sink, you realize, not the shower), probably for one of your team members to properly clean later under an oath of secrecy. Your hand is up under your skirt, the other gripping his shirts for dear fucking life, and Satan’s fuck, he was absolutely going to kill you.

You both stand frozen for a moment, still too shocked to move your hands until you see the spark of static cross between his antennae. You let go of his shirts and remove your hand from under your skirt. “Sir,” you start, and your voice cracks on the word. “I’m-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, and even without the swirl of his hypnotic eye your jaw clamps closed. He lets the Alastor pillow fall to the ground, both hands free now to open both closet doors, and you close your eyes- this was it, goodbye Hell, nice knowing you. At least you were going out with a hot image burned behind your eyelids of the guy that was going to murder you.

Instead you feel the sensation of your floppy ear being rubbed between two fingers, gentle and inquisitive. When an eye peeks open again, Vox is staring at them, his gaze flicking between your ears to the tiny white spots that line the edges of your face that he can now see with the increased light. “You a deer?” He asks, his tone dark, and you heave a shaky breath.

“Yes, sir.”

He hums, a quiet noise as his other hand comes up to rest softly on your waist. “Didn’t notice earlier. Thought I told the head cleaning bitch I didn’t want any fucking deer in my tower.”

You force yourself to breathe slowly. “I had great recommendations and she said she would just keep me out of your way.”

“Great recommendations, huh? Any of your previous employers know you fucking touch yourself watching people get off in what they assume is the privacy of their own homes?”

Instinct- you try to run rather than face his questions, only getting as far as an abortive jerk forward before both  of his hands are on your hips, pushing you further against the back closet wall. His scent is fucking everywhere, a faint heat coming off his screen with how close it is to your face, and you feel the threat of claws where he grips you. “Please, I’m sorry-”

“This for me?” Vox takes one hand off your waist to grab your hand- the one that had been under your skirt- and moves it back to its prior position, just pressing against the front of your damp panties. “Or was it the fact that you were being a little pervert and I was none the wiser? Tell the truth now, dear,” he says, his eye going black rimmed and swirling, and you’re helpless to answer.

“A bit of both, sir,” you breathe, and he looks pleased at your answer, pressing your fingers harder against the heated skin under your joined hands. The words don’t stop- “I didn’t mean to come here, sir, there was a pillow in your office- and you said everything had to go back where it belonged, so-”

“Gotcha, gotcha,” he nods. “The downsides of hypnotism, huh? But it’s gotten us into an interesting situation- how much of that did you see?” He tilts his head towards the pillow.

Deep breath. “All of it, sir.”

“You must think I’m pretty pathetic now, huh?” 

His eyes still spins lazily at you. “Not at all,” you say, and the pixels of his eyebrows twitch upwards. “I thought it was… alluring. Sexy, to watch you let yourself go like that.” You glance down at the pillow, a grimace taking over your mouth. “Admittedly a little gross that you aren’t like. Properly cleaning that. Were you just going to throw it back into the closet?”

His screen tints and he lets go of you, taking a step back to kick the pillow out of your line of sight. “I have a dry cleaning lady that comes on Saturdays,” he says defensively, “it would have only been in there like two days max.”

“Sir, that’s still kinda-”

He tugs you out of the closet by the wrist and pulls you over to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling so that you straddle his lap. “You wanna keep calling me gross or do you wanna fuck me?” He grinds your hips down onto his and you feel the hard length of his arousal against you despite it being not more than a few minutes since he had finished with the pillow. 

“Can’t I do both?”

“Cause let me tell you,” he adds, talking over you, not picking up the barb, “the sooner I can get that fucker out of my head, the happier I’ll be as your boss. And a happy boss might not decide to kill or fire you for being a- what’s the lady equivalent of a Peeping Tom? Just a slut?”

“I’m not sure there is one, sir,” you say breathlessly, and his tongue snaking out of his mouth to trail along the length of your neck distracts you from his fingers reaching up under your skirt to slide your panties to the side, thumbing your clit with soft pressure.

“S’nice that you’re a deer,” he murmurs, the tingly sensation of his lips tracing a path down your collar, letting his tongue slip between the swell of your tits, pushed on display in this fucking uniform. “Just like- shit, do you have…?” His other hand comes under your skirt as well, reaches around the back to cup your ass, and at the base of your spine-

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers when he gets a grip on your tail, fingers tightening around it in a way that makes you cry out, high and trembling. “Fuck, I gotta-” He shifts the both of you, a quick motion that ends with you bent over the edge of the mattress while Vox flips your skirt up, exposes the cute fawn spots that covered your ass and thighs, the fluffy nub of your tail above the red lace of your panties.

“Fuckin’ red,” he mutters, mostly to himself, “just like him- what is it with fuckin’ deer and red? Do you all use the same style guide or something?” When you look back, there’s a note that appears on his screen- “ask Vel about deer style magazine?”- before he sees you watching and grins. “Might wanna hold onto something, doll,” he advises, and before you can ask him why his face is pressed against your rear, tongue slipping between the slick folds of your cunt and diving in.

The shock of it makes you yelp, immediately devolving into a moan that’s lost in the sheets when you bury your face into them. The slick muscle is long and strong, reaching deep and flicking against your inner walls with a fervor you’ve never had from a partner before. You try to grind your hips against the bed, the motion aborted when Vox’s large hands come up to your waist and hold you in place so he can lick into your pussy more efficiently, keeping you firmly against his screen. He moans at the taste of you and keeps you still with one hand, the other coming down to rub forcefully at your clit. You groan into the sheets, fingers fisting in the fabric and fuck, fucking finally,  pressure and friction where you wanted it. “Vox, sir, please,” you whine into the mattress, and he moans against you, the vibration of it from his screen adding a nice edge to the pleasure. “Please, please, please-”

Tongue still inside of you, you can hear his voice, broadcast from the speakers on his head- “I’m not sure you get to beg for anything, baby,” he says, and his tone drips sarcasm and amusement. “I could leave you high and dry and I would be well within my fucking rights- maybe I decide that perverts don’t get to cum.” His tongue starts to draw back, and when your walls clench down on him in protest he fucking laughs. “I guess fucking any deer will do, though- helps that you’re fucking cute, even if you don’t really look like-”

Like him. Like Alastor. It should have been insulting, and maybe a little terrifying that possibly the only thing keeping you from having been murdered on the spot when he opened that closet was that you were a fucking deer.

Logic had no place in your body right now, though; you’d been aroused for the better part of Satan only knew how long, and you would take what you could get. Maybe if you were lucky he would just fire you after he fucked you stupid. “Please,” you ask him again, not caring if you sound pathetic about it, and he does pull off your pussy now, leaves your soaked entrance clenching down on nothing. “Fuck, sir, please-” 

He chuckles and you hear the clinking of his belt behind you, loud in the quiet of his room that’s interrupted only by your soft moans into the mattress. “Don’t worry, Bambi,” he said, using the nickname for Alastor that he had spit in anger when he first came into the room. “I’ll give it to you- give it to you real fucking good.” His hand reaches above your head and grabs the pillow that had led you in here like a lamb to the slaughter, shifts your hips up enough to shove it under them while pressing against your back. You feel the hard line of his cock against your ass and resist the urge to grind back onto it, staying put until he decides to move.

“Ohh, look at that! That’s fucking cute,” he says, and there’s a hard grip on your tail, making you aware of the faint shakiness to the appendage in his grasp. “All twitchy and needy- you always get like this when you want a cock in you?”

Your response is a drawn out whine when he finally pushes in, and fuck- seeing it glow faintly against the pillow while he rutted to completion couldn’t have prepared you for having his cock inside of you, filling your cunt perfectly and still fucking going. Vox presses in slowly, methodically, until he’s buried balls deep and breathing heavily against your back. “Fuuuccckkk,” he groans, and the rumble of it through his chest makes your inner walls spasm around the hard length of him. “Oh fuck, baby, do that again,” he encourages, a hand squeezing at your tail, and what are you supposed to do? Not listen to him? You clench down and he chuckles, low and dangerous, and there are lips nipping at your skin where the shirt of your uniform leaves you exposed. “God fucking damn, Bambi, you’re just-” He pulls back, the drag of his dick inside of you leaving sparks of pleasure that burn behind your eyelids, and shoves back in, the tip of him bumping something soft and sweet inside you that makes the evidence of your arousal drip from where you’re connected. He sets a steady pace, and you wish you could fucking see him- watch him use your body for his pleasure like he had used the pillow, mindless with it, bucking his hips with reckless abandon.

A hand wraps around your throat, gently at first before the feeling of it makes you moan and he tightens his grip, thumb coming up to brush against your lips and smearing the drool that he finds there, having fallen unbidden from your mouth as you panted with your mouth open while he fucked you. “Making a mess of my sheets, huh? I like the sound of that- fucking the drool out of you while I fuck my cum into you-”

The keening cry you try to let out at that is garbled and broken with his hand squeezing your throat, the other still having a grand old time pulling on your tail, and fuck, you think you could cum just like this. “V-Vox, sir,” you manage to get out with the pressure on the sides of your neck, “please, gonna-”

“Gonna cum, baby?” He lets go of your throat and you fall forward onto the mattress, face burying in the sheets again and muffling your sounds- he brings his fingers to your clit to circle it while he fucks you, still pulling your tail, and everything inside of you feels like its tensing and electrified around your cunt where you’re stuffed full of him. “Come on, show me how- how fucking sorry  you are for getting caught with your hand down your panties.” He brings his face down next to yours, teeth snapping in your ear and licking up the side of your face at the tears that have leaked out. “Wanna fucking call me gross now, Bambi? When you’re about to cum on my cock like a goddamn slut- fuck, so close, it’s almost fucking perfect-”

Static sparks off his antennae, and you can almost feel the thrum of electricity though his body before it ends at his finger tips, shocking both your clit and the sensitive skin of your tail where he still holds it in a death grip- that’s all it takes for you to almost scream with your orgasm and drag him over the edge with you, a soft grunt of “Alastor, fuck, Al-” as he spends himself in long, hot pulses inside of you. Static still tingles lightly at his fingertips, causing tiny jolts of pleasure that make your muscles twitch and your walls flutter around Vox’s cock, drawing your release out until you’re almost overstimulated, trying to shift your hips out from under his body.

The hand on your tail tightens in warning. “Stay the fuck still for a sec,” he mumbles, and he presses his face against your back- you can feel the heat of it through your shirt. “Just fucking- came twice in the span of thirty minutes, let me catch my goddamn breath before you try to go again.”

“That’s not-” He presses hard against your clit and your body jerks in his hold. “Not helping,” you finish feebly, and he laughs against your flank before he lets go of your body and pushes back, pulling out with a loud, wet noise that brings a flaming blush to your face. “And not what I was trying to do.”

There’s a shuffle of movement and then the bed dips in front of you- you raise your head up from the mattress to see Vox eagle-spread across the sheets, his chest heaving. “No, you were just trying to get off in my closet after watching me fuck a pillow like a fucking loser. Not sure if that reflects worse on you or me.”

You flush, and prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him- he didn’t seem like he was as angry now, less likely to murder you probably. “It’s not great for either of us, but probably a little worse for me.” You take a deep breath, tense despite the orgasm that made your bones feel like goo. “I… I don’t think you’re going to kill me now? But I do understand if you would still like to fire me, sir- this was… lovely, but I was still unprofessional, and-”

“God, just- shut up, damn, is that also a deer thing? Never being able to stop talking? I’m not gonna fucking fire you.” He throws an arm over his screen, his internal fans whirring and blowing hot air across your face. “Are you any good at your job or do you hide in closets on a regular basis?”

“First time transgression, sir.” He chuckles, and you shift a little bit higher up. “Besides- you know, this, I do a good job.”

He hums, turning on his side to look at you- or more specifically, to look at the valley between your breasts where they’re pushed up from your position on your elbows. “Fuck,” he mutters, then actually meets your eye. “Can you get a cum stain out of a pillow?”

You resist the urge to laugh. “I can do more than just wipe it down with a damp cloth and throw it in the closet to sit for two days.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he says, his screen tinting pink, but he doesn’t actually seem upset about it. “It would have gotten cleaned eventually. The point is- you’ve already seen it, I don’t think there’s any reason why anyone else needs to.”

“Your dry cleaning woman hasn’t seen it before?”

“What, you think I make a fucking habit of this?” He sits up, crossing his legs on the bed to turn and look down at you. “First time transgression, doll. Fuckin’ Val bought me that thing as a joke a few years ago, I forgot about it entirely until he came back, and all this fucking tension came along with it that I obviously couldn’t do anything about with him. No one else has seen it, no one else- no one else knows.”

“I can keep a secret,” you find yourself saying. “And yes, I can get a stain out of a pillow like that.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “I’ll take your word,” Vox says. “Tell you what- you work your magic on that fucking thing, we toss it back into the closet- properly cleaned this time- and we can discuss some kind of arrangement between the two of us. A personal contract with me, instead of the collective like everybody else. You won’t have to wear that uniform anymore,” he adds, “but I can’t say one that I come up with would be any better. I’d keep that cute tail on display though.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You stand from the bed and enjoy the way that his eyes trail down your body, even if they do hover a little longer on your ears. “Do you keep any hydrogen peroxide in the apartment?” He blinks at you. “Bleach? Rubbing alcohol? Fuck, baking soda and vinegar?”

“I’m the CEO, what the fuck do I need any of those things for? Everything I need other people will do for me.”

“God damn it- okay then, you wait here and try to keep your hands off the pillow- I’ll be back.” With a grin rivaling the one on the soiled cushion's image you turn your back to the still grumbling demon. You couldn’t believe your luck - not only had Vox not killed you but you got a good fuck and the promise of some sort of a promotion out of the situation as well. With newfound confidence, you flipped your skirt up and wagged your tail at him before you disappeared through the door to look for the necessary supplies, chuckling to yourself as you heard the grumbling turn into a needy groan.

[tell-me-when-ur-ready]

Bikini Collection

Summary: You want to film a YouTube video with your boyfriend JJ reacting to your bikini collection, but he only makes it through three swimsuits before something not fit for YouTube takes place.

Warnings: Smut. (unprotected sex don’t do that)

Word count: 1,200

Author’s note: Inspired by this video!

“Can I open my eyes yet?” JJ yelled from the living room of the Chateau.

“No!” you hollered back. Turning slightly, you adjusted the pink bandeau-style bikini top over the top of your boobs. Finally satisfied, you opened the door and walked into the living room, where JJ was sitting with his eyes obediently closed. You’d tidied the house as much as possible and set up your phone to film a “boyfriend reacts to my bikini collection” video.

“You know, I’ve seen all your bikinis a million times,” JJ was saying as you came out. “I don’t see why we have to do a whole—holy fuck.”

You preened, turning in a circle so he could get the full view. “Like what you see?”

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Any thoughts on the style?”

“Uh.” JJ’s eyes raked up and down your body. “It makes your ass look good?”

“Shut up,” you giggled. “I’m not putting that on the Internet.”

“Well, what am I supposed to say when my girlfriend walks out looking like that?”

You gave him one more twirl before heading back to the bedroom to change. “Final rating out of 10?” you called back over your shoulder.

“Uh. 9 out of 10. 9.5.”

As you shut the door behind you, you heard JJ mutter again, “Best day of my frickin’ life.”

Next you grabbed a pale blue pair of thin-stringed bottoms with a halter top.

“Hot damn,” was JJ’s reaction back out in the living room. He shifted in his seat. “Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?”

You frowned at him. “J, stop. I’m going to have to edit all of this out. What’s your rating? And say something family-friendly.”

“Mmm…” He craned his neck to look at your ass as you struck a pose. “8 out of 10 for the legs?” When you glared at him, he immediately backtracked. “Okay, okay! Uh, you look good in blue?”

Good enough. You headed to change again, shaking your head.

“You know I like you for you,” he yelled after you into the bedroom. “How kind you are and how hard you work. Your sense of humor.”

“And my ass and boobs?” you called back. The resulting silence confirmed your suspicion. You smirked at yourself in the mirror.

“Those, among other parts,” JJ called back after a minute.

Next you walked out in a purple triangle bikini with foldover bottoms. You were barely into the living room before JJ was sitting on his hands, physically restraining himself.

“I vote we finish the video another day,” he said, eyeing you hungrily.

“Today is the only day where no one else is going to be here. You don’t want John B sitting on the couch while we’re doing this, do you?” You stopped in front of him. “This bikini is new. I just got it the other day. What do you think?”

You revolved in a slow circle. The next thing you knew, JJ was up and moving, lunging toward your phone. “Turn that thing off. Ain’t nobody else gonna see my girl.”

Before you could react, his hands were all over you, running up and down your bare sides while he kissed you hard on the lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands slid down lower. In the back of your mind, you had to admit that part of you had hoped this would happen when you asked JJ to film this video. Maybe it wasn’t fair to tease him—but now you were both getting what you wanted, so what did it really matter?

“How do you get this stupid thing off?” JJ mumbled into your mouth. He was fumbling with the tie at the back of your bikini. You giggled and took pity on him, untying the top and letting it fall to the ground. “Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered, looking down at you.

“C’mere.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the couch, gladly falling into the cushions as he propped himself on top of you, powerful biceps bracketing either side of your head. He kissed you hard, tongue parting your lips as you automatically rolled your hips up into his, making him groan. You grabbed the hem of his ratty T-shirt (of course he couldn’t be bothered to dress up for the Internet) and tugged it over his head. He sat back on his knees briefly to get rid of the foldover bottoms you’d been so happy with and to pull down his cargo shorts.

“Just want you, princess,” he said, breath coming heavy and hard. You reached up your arms for him again.

“Take me, J.”

Both of you hissed as he slid into you, stretching you out. You dug your nails into the bare skin of his shoulders and briefly closed your eyes as JJ paused, giving you a moment to adjust despite how far gone he was. When he started to move it was slow at first, the burn so deep and delicious you couldn’t hold back a quavery sigh. JJ turned his face into your neck, lowering his mouth to kiss your soft skin again and again.

Slowly he sped up until he was panting with the effort of each thrust. The two of you had been dating for a couple of years at this point and you had sex often, yet every time, you were still blown away by how good it was. You’d never really understood the phrase “best I’ve ever had” until JJ. He knew what he was doing in bed. And the more he got to know you, the better and better it got.

“JJ,” you sobbed out. You’d be embarrassed at how needy you sounded, except it was him. Your J. The boy who was goofy and tough and vulnerable all at the same time, who knew you inside and out, better than anyone else ever had or ever could.

“I know, princess,” he panted, his breathing laborious. “I got you. ‘M gonna make you feel good.” Without breaking his pace, one of his hands slipped between your bodies, his rings cool on your skin. Within a few more thrusts, you were done. Your fingers twisted painfully hard in his blond hair and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell over the edge, body jerking.

“Shit, shit, baby, holy fuck—“

JJ let out a guttural groan into your neck as he came, shaking hard as he finished in a few final thrusts as you clenched around him. Finally he fell limp against your body. He was heavy on top of you, but you didn’t care. You wrapped your arms around his back as your chests rose and fell together, breathing heavily as you came down from your highs.

At last JJ raised himself up onto his hands, his arms shaking a little with the effort, and smiled sweetly down at you. He ducked his head to kiss your lips and you kissed him back, wondering how you’d ever gotten lucky enough to find a guy like him.

“So…” You propped yourself up on your elbows and smirked at him mischievously. “You wanna see another bikini?”

[sturniololoco]

Shy

Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

SLS x Nathan Doe

Warnings: kissing, language, etc. Pure fluff!

SLS/N's POV

I woke up in Matt's bed, alone, unlike last night when I fell asleep with him watching a movie. I fell asleep in a pair of Chris's boxers and one of Nick's hoodies, looking like a train wreck. I throw my hair in a messy bun and then check the time.

11:15 am. Damn, I slept in.

Yawing, I quickly stood up and made my way to the kitchen. I heard my brother's voices coming from the couch as I walked in.

Only it wasn't just my brothers.

Sitting on the couch were Nick, Matt, Chris, and Nathan, who I completely forgot flew in from Boston this morning. He gave me a small smile as I met his eye.

They all turned and stared at me. I immediately felt my face turn red as I looked down at my feet awkwardly.

"Oh good! Sleepy head his up." Nick said. I gave a fake little laugh as I backed out of the room, mumbling something about getting ready. Once I rounded the corner, I sprinted to my room.

I cannot believe I just walked into a room with Nathan Doe, looking like absolute shit.

-

I changed into some cargo jeans and a crew neck, I also curled my hair and added some light makeup to my face. I was desperately trying to revive my first interaction with Nate.

I walked downstairs again, trying a new technique, rather than boxers and a baggy sweatshirt.

When I got downstairs, everyone was still on the couch, but now they had bagels. I grabbed one and sat next to Chris, who just so happened to be a couch cushion away from Nate.

"Well didn't someone dress up all fancy? Big difference compared to Matty's boxers." Chris said, nudging me in my side. I punched him lightly in the shoulder, giggling as my face turned red again. Nate laughed with us, meeting my eye again.

"So, what should we do today?" Nick asked the group, all of us finishing the last of our bagels.

"Top Golf?" Matt suggested. We all nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good to me!" Nate said cheerfully. He stood up to throw his plate away, but as he passed me, he said,

"Lemme get that for you." As he took my plate for me. I smiled at him for a split second before looking away and mumbling thanks, my cheeks feeling hot.

-

As the smallest, I usually sit in the middle back whenever we have company riding in the car with us. Only this time, I was squished between Nick and Nate, our legs constantly touching.

I felt the butterflies rise in my stomach with every little movement, my heartbeat quickening its pace.

But we soon arrived at top golf, our legs separating as we got out of the car.

-

About halfway through a basket of donut holes later, it was my turn to swing again. I placed my ball on the T and swung, barely missing the little red one. My brothers have always been better at gold than me.

"Oh, that was so close SLS/n! But here, try more like this next time." Nate said, walking towards me.

He wrapped his arms around me, grabbing my hands and helping me swing. He was talking, but I wasn't comprehending. The only thing I could think of was how close we were.

"...Got it, SLS/N?" Nate finished.

"I-Um... yeah, thanks," I said, quickly averting my eyes from his perfect smile. He stayed up at a matt since it was his turn, while I bolted to sit next to Nick. I could feel the heat all over my face.

"Someone blushing again," Nick said, nudging my shoulder. I gave him a Please don't say a word look and he just chuckled and then stood up, going to take his turn. But to my surprise, his seat was filled by Nate moments later.

And the cycle continued.

-

It was late. 1:04 am to be exact.

Everyone came home exhausted from our day of fun, showered, and then hit the hay. Except for me.

I woke up thirsty, so I walked down to the kitchen, turned on the overhead lights, then filled a cup with water.

As I was taking small sips of my water and scrolling through my notifications on my phone, I saw someone's hands being placed on the counter on both sides of me.

I quickly spun around, almost spilling my water and dropping my phone in the process, and came face to face with Nate.

I let out a breathy laugh, saying,

"Holy shit, you scared the fuck outta me!" He laughed lightly, giving me a lazy smile, his arms still on either side of me, trapping me.

Butterflies.

Our noses were only centimeters apart, and Nate was only leaning in closer.

God, I hope I don't have morning breath, I thought as he gently laid his lips against mine. He smelled amazing and tasted even better.

After a couple of seconds, he started to move his lips along mine, deepening the kiss. Just when I was starting to get the hang of it, he pulled away.

My face got hot and turned beet red as I rested my forehead on his chest, hiding my face.

"No, no, none of that. Don't get all shy on me baby." he said, laughing lightly as he used his index finger and thumb to lift my chin. I looked into his eyes, and just as I thought he was about to kiss me again, he backed up, moving his arms.

"You should go back to bed, you need rest." He then reached behind me and grabbed my water glass, taking a sip, and then handed it to me. I took it, staring at him dumbfounded as he walked back to Chris’s room.

Shortly after, I did the same. But as soon as I laid down, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Nick.

I fucking knew it.

-

Pt. 2????????

Lemme know!

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls 14 part 1/2

masterpost

“Hey, what’s up? Just checking in. Any luck so far? I finished my books!” Danny read mockingly off the burner phone with only one contact. He felt his eyebrow twitch. “What is this guy’s problem?” He got up in a jerky motion and started pacing around his one room apartment like the world’s most broke-ass tiger. It took three steps to get off the rug and onto the 3 tiles in front of his front door. He wheeled on his heel and did it again, and again, and then he forcibly collapsed back onto his couch in a huff. “What a bitch,” Danny complained. He kicked at the cushion. “Where does he get off talking to me like he doesn’t know…”

His voice trailed off as he accidentally had a thought. The thought happened to him entirely against his will. He really hated the thought.

Like. What if, just as a guess. What if he supposed that Jason the hapless performance-art biker tough guy rough guy had not found his secret identity? What if he had just like, gone out to a dark coffeeshop to read a new book? And from his perspective, some weird guy had yelled at him and made a funny face like a pissy toddler?

Shit. Shit, fuck, and damn. Danny groaned. Was Jason just a local??? Had he walked into that place by chance- oh. Holy fucking shit.

“I am the dumbest engineer I know,” Danny marveled. He looked up at the ceiling and sort of wished it would fall in and kill him instantly. “Jeremy is in Arkham. That implies he committed this crime in Gotham. That would imply his victim was from Gotham.”

Honestly… He had kinda just thought that Jeremy was in Arkham because it was convenient for him. But of course not. No one knew he was in Gotham. If Jeremy knew that Danny Phantom was on Gotham he would have been taking out creepy billboards to beg for his attention and damnation or something.

‘So Jason just thinks I am a total weirdo.’

Pain. Pain. Psychic damage. Danny threw his arm over his face and muffled a scream into his forearm, fucking mortified. Why was he so embarrassing? 

‘I don’t actually know that this happened in Gotham; Jeremy could have gone outside of city limits for his little ritual. Jason didn’t ask me to take him to Gotham from the GZ,’ Danny clung to in faint hope. ‘Maybe he really did hunt me down. Or maybe he looked up ectobiologists, learned about my family, and just sought out the geographically closest Fenton.’ 

…Get real. Come on. Jason wasn’t a detective. The straightest line between two points was the most likely path of events.

He unlocked his phone with numb fingers and started searching for any proof that this guy was a Gothamite. 

Jason Gotham

A bunch of Linked in profiles, a bunch of articles about rich people, and a flood of bookface profiles. It was a common name.

“That figures,” Danny huffed, feeling a little stupid for thinking that would work. He blew out a long breath. “It’s not like there’s ever just one guy in the world. There’s a billion Dannys out there for chrissake. There’s a Danny in my Econ class.”

Jason Gotham big strong guy

There was a wrestler from Gotham whose agent was named Jason. Danny clicked through the article to look at the photos just in case. No dice. His Jason was built prettier than the agent or the wrestler, Danny thought absently. Oh. He did have something that a wrestler didn’t, though.

Jason Gotham guns

Weirdly, the Linked-in profiles came back up. Danny was baffled and curious enough to read through a couple. “Gotham is such a goddamn place,” he marveled, eyebrows traveling up. “I thought you weren’t supposed to talk about things like…” Then the penny dropped. “Henchmen get hired off Linked-in?” He sat up explicitly so that he could shake his head in disbelief at the state of this city. “Wild.”

Well. The mission was not a success. Danny buried his face in his hands and accidentally smacked himself with the phone still in his hand. He ignored the stinging of his cheekbone to wallow in self-pity. It would heal up fast anyway.

“I think I need to answer his message,” Danny said. He felt real low. He felt like such a silly bastard. “I have to be smart and feel out if he knows I’m Danny.” He paused. “Danny Fenton, not Danny Phantom. Because I introduced myself as Danny Phantom.” Danny groaned. That seemed like an unnecessary clue, now that he really thought about it.

‘I need to avoid Jazz,’ Danny thought grimly. ‘If she sees me, she is going to sense weakness and find out what I did.’

He mulled over his options for a bit, trying to plot a response that would reveal all of Jason’s secrets and also make sense in conversation.

He failed. “I’m not a smart man,” Danny said conversationally, and sent,

You finished all those books already?? You unemployed, dude???

Jason must have been waiting on him. His response was pretty fast. 

Self-employed, actually. 

[bumblesimagines]

Love to Hate, Hate to Love

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Rivalries are supposed to be fun and motivating, maybe even a little brutal. Just the way Jordan likes it. Except, they fucked up and things are so much more complicated.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

~~~

Jordan can hardly hear their thoughts over the booming music, let alone whatever conversation Andre and Luke were having across from them. They strain to hear better but they only manage to catch a few words before giving up and slumping back on the couch cushions with a huff. Their eyes drag around the room where classmates and strangers danced or mingled around them, some grinding and others shouting into their friend's ears. They suddenly find the room too stuffy, too crowded for their liking, and they stand up, snatching a beer can off the table and shoving their way through the party until they find the sliding door leading to the backyard. 

Jordan stumbles outside and tilts their head back, taking a deep breath in, pleased to be inhaling something other than smoke, even if they yearn for another hit to silence their thoughts. The substances they took were enough to get them high, enough to make their mind hazy and movements sluggish, but the combined buzz of the powders and shrooms are worth it. 

"Well, if it isn't my little Li?" A voice coos and their head turns in the direction of it, finding (Y/N) (L/N) watching them with a lopsided grin. A scowl forms on their face immediately and they shift into the masc form, a somewhat genuine sounding 'awe' leaving his lips. Jordan tries ignoring the way it makes their heart twist. Not many embrace their fem form unless it's a guy trying to get lucky. 

"(L/N)," Jordan intends to sound annoyed but they end up sighing the last name and feel a flush creep up their cheeks. (Y/N) giggles, and it sounds adorable, before striding over to them and placing his hands over Jordan's cheek. (Y/N) sways slightly and Jordan catches sight of their blown-out pupils, the black so wide it almost completely covers the color of their eyes. The beer can slips from their fingers and falls to the ground with a clatter but neither pay it any mind. 

"You're warm." (Y/N) murmurs and Jordan feels their skin cool, a heavy sigh of relief escaping their lips. God, the house had grown so hot and stuffy with all the people crawling inside it, that Jordan had failed to realize how hot they'd gotten. They hum lowly, eyes fluttering shut and fingers curling around (Y/N)'s wrist. How nice would it be to have a walking AC for a-

Their eyes fly open at the interrupted thought, meeting (Y/N)'s half-lidded ones. If it were anyone else, Jordan might've considered the thought, entertained it even with some flirting, but (Y/N) fucking (L/N). No. No. Unless... No. They were supposed to hate him, and they swore they did! But (Y/N) had a knack for making things oh-so complicated. 

It all started their first year at God U during one of Professor Brink's lectures. Jordan had been listening intently, scribbling notes, and answering questions that earned them praise from the professor. Everything had been peachy. Jordan soaked up each praise and approving nod from Professor Brink while smirking at the annoyed glances their classmates shot them until Jordan answered a question, and was rebuffed by a classmate. 

"Actually," Jordan's head had whirled around to look at the source of the voice, their eyes locking onto Luke Riordan and then moving onto the figure sitting beside them. (Y/N) grinned lazily, one arm propped on the back of his chair and legs extended out in front of him as if he owned the damn building. (Y/N) (L/N), cousin to Luke Riordan and the beloved nephew of Ted and Janet Riordan. Where Luke controlled fire, (Y/N) controlled ice. Polar opposites but as tight as brothers. "I think Li is wrong."

It was war from then on.

Luke Riordan dominated the social scene and rankings, easily ascending to the number one spot. At the same time, (Y/N) and Jordan battled over being number two: completing homework and doing extra credit, doing extracurricular activities after school, engaging in class, and putting on quite the show during training where they practically tried killing each other. And things got dirty, of course they did. Jordan once locked (Y/N) in the sauna after luring Luke and Andre out and in retaliation, (Y/N) laced their weed and made them miss half a day's worth of classes. When (Y/N) deleted an essay off their laptop, Jordan snuck into his dorm and soaked his fancy clothes with alcohol the afternoon of the gala. Things continued like that, with tension only growing and the bickering intensifying. 

Jordan would never admit it out loud but they enjoyed being challenged, even if it infuriated them when it happened in public. (Y/N) consumed just about every waking thought of theirs, their mind constantly wondering what to do next and what to expect from him. They hated him, obviously, but slowly... things changed. Jordan never pinpointed when, but they had some idea as to the moments that changed their relationship with (Y/N).

Like the time Jordan had caught (Y/N)'s father lecturing him, putting him down despite his spot in the top ten and demanding more from a guy who worked twice as hard than the average student. The scene had felt nauseatingly familiar. From the way (Y/N) stared at the ground silently with a frown and occasional flinches to the fact his mother made no moves to defend her son and only watched. Jordan had lost count of how many times they'd found themselves in that exact spot, especially after coming out to their parents. They knew the feeling of constantly being questioned and pressured, being brushed aside in favor of others' feelings. The disappointment from a parent stung like no other, and when they'd ensured his parents had left, Jordan went to the Jitter Bean on campus and got some donuts. (Y/N) had accepted them, with some mild suspicion, but it'd been worth it when (Y/N) smiled after eating the sweet. (And no, Jordan didn't want to think about the fact they'd stared hard when (Y/N) licked his fingers clean or the low noise that emitted from his throat when he bit into the warm, glazed donut.)

And when that moment flickers back to them, they try squirming out of (Y/N)'s hold to put some distance between them. The last thing they need was a distraction, especially with exams coming up fast. But, they find (Y/N)'s hands tighten and pull their face closer. Jordan doesn't fight it, and only melts again when (Y/N) kisses them. His lips are cool, and it makes Jordan flinch at first, but then they find it's exactly what they need. They latch onto (Y/N), hands leaving his wrists to wrap around him instead, and (Y/N)'s arms drop from their face to coil around their waist. His hand slips under Jordan's shirt and they hiss softly, feeling (Y/N)'s lips curve up into a mischievous grin. 

"Asshole," They whisper.

"You love it." (Y/N) chuckles, his grip tightening around them before he propels himself into the air with a gust of cold wind and takes Jordan along. They land on the balcony of one of the bedrooms, and Jordan can't help the giddy laugh that escapes them as their high keeps a tight grip on their mind. (Y/N) staggers again and leans back against the railing, only having a few seconds to steady himself before Jordan's hands find the collar of his shirt and they jerk him forward, crashing their lips back together. (Y/N) grunts and nips Jordan's lip for it but the shapeshifter hardly pays it any mind and walks backward into the dark room, pulling his rival along until they both collapse on the bed. 

"(Y/N)," Jordan exhales, shifting back into their fem form out of habit, their hands still gripping his collar to keep him close. (Y/N) hums into the side of their throat, too occupied with suckling a mark onto their neck to properly speak, and while Jordan would typically raise hell about being marked, they oddly don't mind now. "Do me a favor."

"What?" His voice is muffled and a shiver shoots up their spine when his teeth drag across their skin. Heat pools in Jordan's stomach and their hands drop to reach down, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and lifting it. (Y/N) digs his knees into the mattress and leans back, fingers hooking around the back of the shirt and tugging it over his head. Jordan lights up like a Christmas tree and (Y/N)'s snicker is cut off with another rough kiss.

"Fuck me," Jordan demands.

A wolfish grin spreads across (Y/N)'s face. "Will do." 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘༓∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Things change, obviously.

(Y/N) continues to consume Jordan's every waking moment, but only it somehow intensifies after their hookup. Jordan finds themselves lingering by the door after class, waiting for (Y/N)'s slow ass to finish packing his things or wrap up his conversation with Luke, and they spring out at him with half-hearted taunts or jabs that they end up stuttering through when (Y/N) holds eye contact with them and gives them that godforsaken chesire grin. They ensure to check (Y/N)'s assignments first and provide genuine, helpful feedback when they previously would've deducted points for the smallest of things. 

It's not as if they've never slept with anyone before. They had their own little roster of classmates they hooked up with depending on their mood or who was available but as time passed and (Y/N) began answering their texts more frequently, their former flings went ignored in favor of going to (Y/N)'s dorm. Maybe it wouldn't have such an effect on them if (Y/N) were like the others, the flings who preferred one form over the other, but (Y/N) doesn't mind, doesn't care. And while it was the absolute bare minimum, it makes Jordan feel all the more woozy. 

Especially in the summer when their parents call almost weekly, asking when they're going to visit them. The university lets students linger during the class-free summer months, for a surprising amount of supes have estranged relationships with their families. The heat becomes unbearable some days, and it makes Jordan feel all the more thankful when they wake up, roll over, and press against (Y/N). They only have to sigh for (Y/N) to make his skin grow colder, and Jordan nuzzles right into him with a pleased smile. Sure, the dorms have perfectly fine ACs, but it's all the better to be cuddled up to the human version of one. 

"I'm gonna start charging you." He says, yawning and rolling over onto his side. His arms pull Jordan into his chest, eyes fluttering shut again and cheek nuzzling into the pillow. Jordan smiles despite themselves, their eyes taking in every detail of (Y/N)'s face. Most mornings, they have classes to attend or other things to do, only having a brief time to see each other. But summer put a brief end to classes and the hustle and bustle of student life, giving them all the time in the world with (Y/N). 

"Yeah?" Jordan chuckles. "What'll it be? Five bucks?"

"Mmm." (Y/N) makes a noise akin to 'shut up' and Jordan grins, lips parting to speak again but the Supe seems to anticipate it and mushes their mouths together. It's lazy and slow and clumsy but it works at getting Jordan to stay quiet. They immediately relax, and it's embarrassing. They hate how their skin flushes or how giddy they feel. He's like a drug they can't quit and it's infuriating. But the moment doesn't last long, interrupted by a phone vibrating loudly against the nightstand. 

"God, is it my parents?" Jordan gives an exasperated sigh, missing the coolness of his skin when (Y/N) rolls away from them to check. 

"Nah," (Y/N) replies, sitting up in the bed with his phone in hand. He yawns again, eyes still squinty with sleep, and he types away on the screen. "I told Andre we could train in the gym today. Hand-to-hand combat and shit." 

"Oh." Jordan sits up as well. Well, there went the cozy morning they'd hoped for. 

Jordan spends the rest of the day working on summer assignments, most of it things Brink personally assigned to them to keep their mind working. While they typically enjoy working on personal assignments, their thoughts drift and weave until they find themselves changing and heading to the gymnasium. There are other classmates around, some using the basketball hoops or running laps, but Jordan searches for the combat room until they find it, until they find him. The fluttery feeling that invades their stomach turns into something bitter. 

(Y/N) successfully pins Andre down on the floor, something that isn't much of an achievement considering Andre spends half his time partying or placing bets with Luke, but it's the way Andre's hands land on (Y/N)'s hips that makes a bitter, resentful feeling bubble up in their chest. Andre grins up at him, lazy and almost flirtatious, before (Y/N)'s chain necklace levitates and drags him off Andre. The Supe grunts when his back meets the floor and Andre's laugh echoes in the room. A surge of hot anger rushes through Jordan, not from the cheating but from the look on Andre's face.

"That was dirty, Anderson." (Y/N) says and Andre shrugs as he hops up onto his feet and walks toward his water bottle. In an instant, it becomes frozen solid and Andre groans softly while (Y/N) chuckles. Jordan steps into the room with a clenched jaw and an ocean of feelings swirling around in their head. Andre greets them with a smile. 

"Hey, Jordan." He seems pleased with their sudden appearance, almost as if he'd been expecting them. "Mind stepping in for me? I've gotta call my dad real quick." Andre doesn't even wait for a response, slipping his gloves off his hands and tossing them at Jordan before leaving the room. 

"What's up with you now, Li? Who pissed you off already?" (Y/N) laughs.

"You did." Jordan snaps, tossing their things aside and shoving their hands into the gloves.

"'Course I did." (Y/N) exhales heavily and tilts his head, the amusement still etched on his face. "What'd I do?" 

"You made me love you, asshole."