#Or share all of my shitty shower thoughts

[fight-me-at-dennys-parking-lot]

I AM SO SORRY

Hello everyone. My loves. My lights. My everythings.

How long has it been?? 3 years??? Jesus Christ I am so sorry…I honest to God forgot this blog existed 😅

Right now I am really into TMNT, so I made a separate blog that I dedicated solely to it. It’s called, well, “!!! TURTLES !!!”, and my new account name is “obsessedwiththeturtles”. So, uh…I really don’t try to hide it, huh? 😭

I might start posting TMNT content here as well, if you guys are okay with it. Like personal stuff, not just reblogs of my favorite creators. But if you guys want me to continue with Miraculous content and my random ass thoughts, then I’ll try my best to provide lol

I’m honestly beyond flattered with all of the support I’ve gotten on this account; you guys are the absolute best. Thank you for being such a source of joy for my younger self, and I hope you have an incredible day ❤️❤️❤️

(PS: the URL is https://www.tumblr.com/obsessedwiththeturtles ❤️)

[chaos-coming]

I fucking hate the smell of frying bacon.

My roommate came in the kitchen and started frying bacon while i was cooking and now my clothes and hair smell like fucking bacon i am Not Happy

[aajjks]

Have A Baby By Me (m)

warnings: èxplïcït sèx, rïdïng hïs dïck, báby tràppïng, brèèdïng kínk, cöèrcátïôn, 18+ THÈMÈS, wràp ït bèfórè yôu táp ít, créàmpíe, yándèrè, èxplïcït thèmès, MDNÏ.

note: @looneybleus, I know it’s been so long but I finally got to finish this, forgive me if it’s shitty but I wrote this for you like you wanted 🥹🥹 ALSO SHARE FEEDBACK AND ENJOY! Ignore my mistakes. I’ll edit it later. I got sick. 💀♥️

note: Art by @/nada_ge on twt, this is not mine, cr to owner.

Geto just loves fucking you.

He loves being inside you, fucking you until his dick is aching and you’re full of his load. And now, he hates it when you’re on birth control,

He obviously hates wearing a condom.

And right now? He’s really fucking horny, he cannot stop thinking about fucking you raw, make you bounce on his dick the whole night and breed you like his little doll.

He’s sitting inside your shared bedroom, his shirt off, as he waits for you to finish changing, Geto is throbbing tonight, he will get a baby, he will make sure you get knocked up by him.

Because you’re such a good girl as well, Geto is so in love with you, he wants nothing more than to be with you forever and what is the best way to be with you forever than to have a baby with you?

He is waiting, eagerly. He’s freshly showered, his hair in a lazy bun as he stares at the LED. Even the TV is not interesting enough for him because he’s got some motives. He wants to fulfill tonight.

“Sweetie, where are you?” He suddenly asks, his voice a tad bit loud so you can hear him in the bathroom, he taps his feet on the marble flooring.

“Coming babe.”

He smirks, oh you definitely will be.

He smiles to himself, the thoughts only getting more intense in his mind, his patience is really wearing thin now you need to come here right now.

And it’s like God heard him because there you come all glory in pajamas, your face without any make up, but eyes freeze on you.

You are so beautiful, so pretty and so perfect, the sounds of your steps are enough to take his all of his attention.

“Hi princess.” Geto smiles lazily.

You give him your gorgeous smile, which makes you look 1000 times more pretty, and he pats his lap. “Why don’t you come here hmm?” He speaks in a low tone, his eyes filled with a haze.

A haze you recognize well.

You approach him, Geto wants nothing more than to feel your weight on him, he spreads his legs, “come on pretty girl.” He coos, you are definitely blushing now, as you slyly sit on his lap.

The weight of your ass on him is absolutely delicious, he groans. His arms immediately settling around your waist as he adjusts you.

“Better?” He questions, whispering in your ear like the good caring boyfriend that he is, you nod, and that’s when geto grabs your face and pulls you in for a slow kiss.

His lips move against yours, gently at first, as you register his advance, kidding him back, he enjoys and savors the warmth of your mouth on his.

The kiss only kicks away his sanity, oh he’s so horny. “Mhmm yeah, pretty girl, I really missed you today yknow?” He begins a decent conversation with you, after disconnecting your lips,

You begin talking with him, but all he’s focusing on is being inside you. “Hmm yeah, today wasn’t so eventful, anyways, yn.. let’s focus on the night shall we?” He caresses your face, his fingers tapping your cheek.

“You see? I’m really fuckin needy right now, I’m pretty sure you can feel it.” He winks, hinting at his boner pressing against your ass.

“You look so hot to me right now, please let me fuck you.” He pouts, his tone getting softer yet pleading, but his moves growing bolder, his lips find your neck, as he awaits your response, pressing open mouthed hot kisses against your neck.

He groans again as he takes in your scent, “mhmm fuck.” He moans, his hand sliding inside your shirt, his eyes darken when he realises you’re not wearing a bra.

He starts to tease your naked breast, “oh baby you’re such a naughty girl aren’t you?” His hips start to move, and that’s when you finally mutter a ‘yes’

Geto smiles wide, making you stand up as he immediately kicks his pants off. His muscular thighs soon unveil and throws the pants away.

“Straddle me.” Geto pushes his boxers off soon too, his hard erection painfully obvious, his cock hard and ready. “See that, ‘s all because of you.” He purrs.

“Come on baby ride me.” He takes your wrist and manages to lift you up by your hips, his fingers take off your pajamas and he practically rips your panties off, slamming you down on his cock.

And he cries out in pain, soon replaced by a sound of pleasure as he finds himself inside you, you moan in pain and surprise, “mhm fuck ‘m so sorry baby.”

He’s acting stupid right now.

“Fuck you geto ugh.”

“Yes please fuck me.”

He begs, his grip on your hips tightening as he waits for you to start,

A moan of ecstasy leaves his mouth as you begin to move, “mhmm oh fuck.” He’s always so vocal in the bedroom, he encourages you to go harder, faster.

“Please please please make me cum yn.” He whines, making your hips move faster using his hands to slam you down on his cock.

You moan, matching him as you both give into the pleasure, you settle your hands on his naked shoulders, Geto buries his head in your neck “oh baby mhm yeah please please keep g-going ugh.” He mewls, the feeling your hips slam down on him.

Your thrusts get more aggressive and it makes his eyes roll back. He’s going to cum soon, and inside you.

“Yn oh ngh- mhm.” He wants to kiss you so badly but his mind is frozen, too horny to actually think.

“My ugh- my love you always make me feel so good.” He kisses your neck, his tongue licking all over the skin, his hips bucking up, you keep on riding him.

You’re clenching around him so tightly it’s impossible to last.

“‘M gonna cum.” It’s all he says before he’s exploding inside you, his cum painting your insides white, his orgasm is strong and mind blowing.

The pleasure only intensifies more when he feels you cream all over him as well, you get so quiet during sex, it’s endearing.

His whole body is shaking as he rides the aftershocks, you both a panting mess.

He’s still inside you.

But what’s really got him panting is the knowledge that you’re not on birth control and you didn’t even realize that he just came inside you raw.

Geto smiles, kissing your neck again.

Soon, you’ll be pregnant because he will make sure.

“Oh you’re so good, mhm got me fucked up.” He moans against your neck. “We should continue this hm? This time I’ll be on top okay? I love you.”

Feeling satisfied and accomplished.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"i feel kinda ugly" ft. the monster trio!

in which the biggest dumbasses in the whole of sea comfort you when you fall prey to your shitty thoughts ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader set-up: you happened to utter out what you thought of yourself and these men are here to prove you wrong. (kind of a serious set of headcanons, but ill try being funny when i can) warnings: nsfw; somnophilia if you squint, oral f!receiving and m!recieving, boobjob, creampie; MDNI (thankyou very much)

luffy:

my fav little gremlin's in town ^^

- "i feel kinda ugly" you had muttered it under your breath, words dissolving into the chilly night air. you were laying on your shared bed, staring up at the uneventful ceiling as he snored lightly next to you. - he was supposed to be asleep, atleast that's what you had thought (how can you expect him to stay up after eating like 500kg of meat??) - but he stirs awake almost instantly, turning his head to look at your face. he stifles a yawn, mumbling through a half-lidded gaze, "why would you say that?" - "why would i say what?" you smile, waving it off as if it had just been a wayward thought - but lord knows the amount of nights you've tossed and turned, thinking about all the ways you were incompetent for this man who lay in front of you. you weren't pretty like nami or robin, you weren't quick-witted like them, god, what did he see in you? - "who said you were ugly?" his face is scrunched up, the crease b/w his eyebrows deepening "luffy let it g-" "no. who said it?" his violent undertone doesn't go unnoticed, as if he's threatening to take care of whoever made you miserable - you don't have the heart to tell him it's yourself. you convinced yourself you weren't pretty enough. - and so, you stay silent - but his arms are pulling you impossibly close. closer and closer till your chest is pressed flushed against his and you're staring at him confused - "luf-" "that's bullshit." there's conviction in his words that make a dull warmth cascade over your face and neck. - he is pressing his forehead against yours, hands gripping onto you tightly as if letting his grip loosen means he loses this argument. "you're beautiful. you're smart and kind and beautiful." - at this point, youre about to cry - but he inhales deeply, then says "not to mention you smell like a fruit. thats tasty." - yeah the tears dried up. they fucked off and went to sahara desert. - youre currently fighting off a smile because what the actual fuck prompted this man to say that??? and more importantly what fruit do you smell like? "what fruit do i smell like?" "mhm" he's deep in thought, "tangerines" "luffy everyone smells like tangerine. it's because of nami's tangerine trees." he shrugged, "still pretty tasty" - and now youre kissing his adorably stupid face. your fingers tug on the hair on his nape lightly and he whines into the kiss, sucking on your bottom lip as he does so - "you're so pretty" and so he's kissing your neck, nibbling and grazing lazily - two seconds later, he fell asleep. - like actually fell asleep. his mouth is on your neck, open mouthed and half-nibbling and he's snoring through it all. (i mean, what did you expect from someone who had eaten 500kg of meat??) - issokay though cause the second he wakes up, his fingers are hiking one of your legs over his hip. the same fingers then slip inside the loose folds of your shorts, playing with your pretty pussy till you stir awake, moaning his name - you're the one being toyed with and he's the one whispering and whining like he's gonna explode "does that feel good, ngh-" a grin, "god... fuck, cum for me, pretty" - he continues till your velvety walls are spasming against his fast-paced fingers and your teeth are sinking into his shoulder, muffling shrieks this early in the morning - "you're gorgeous" he whispers through a grin - you choose to believe him

zoro:

myhusband ^^

- this was the last thing you wanted. truly. - zoro had just stepped out of the shower with nothing but a towel losely tied around his waist (this was after he had succesfully ignored you and trained for like an eternity) - water droplets clung onto his broad figure, slowly trailing downwards as they glided over every ridge and scar - you probably should have pulled him onto the bed with you, straddled his hips and asked him to stop ignoring you to go spend time with his swords - you probably should have. - instead, you lay stomach-down on your bed, your head softly cradled beneath your arms and against the pillow - "what's up with you?" he asks, unfazed to your tactics "nothing" you mumble half-heartedly he gave you a double over, "you sure? you're sulking more than usual" "i-" you sigh, "i just idk... i just feel kinda ugly?" - this motherfucker laughs, "yeah i mean you kinda are" - he didn't know you were serious. he didn't know till you were softly crying against the linen sheets, your body shivering against your own cries and staggered breaths - "yn?" there's panic in his voice, "yn, baby, are you crying?! fUCK IM SORRY!" - he didn't know you were serious. i mean how wAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW?! HE THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING DRAMATIC FOR NO REASON LIKE ALWAYS - "hey" you've never heard the swordsman speak so softly as he does now. he's pulling you up softly, placing you in his lap almost mechanically, "yn, baby-" - he lets you sob into his chest for as long as you need to, his fingers are rubbing gentle patterns into your back, arms and waist. - once you've calm down, his hand tips your face lightly towards him. he silently wipes the tears away. - he doesn't say anything and somehow his silence brings more comfort than his words could. - "don't think stupid shit" his palm is resting on your face, pouring warmth across the stretch of your cheek, "you're gorgeous." "but you said im ugly" you lean into his touch "i also said i will return back nami's loans with full interest" a small smile tugs on his lips, "sometimes even i say stupid shit" "so, you don't think i'm ugly?" - his response comes in the way of leaning in and kissing you, one hand on your cheek as the other kneads your waist. - he's laying you down, hovering over you easily and pressing hot kisses to your neck and jawline. sucking, biting till you can feel bruises blossoming across your skin. his knee presses against your core, blinding you with delicious jolts " his agile fingers are hiking up your skirt, letting it pool around your waist, "let me show you how pretty you are, baby" - so, he's pulling your panties with his teeth, he's licking a clean stripe on your inner thigh, kissing and bruising the sensitive skin "and you're dripping wet already? want me to fuck you that bad, eh?" - he's running his tongue over your clit, tracing figures as he alternates between your drooling hole and the bundle of nerves - and so obviously you're now cumming on his face, letting your juices coat his lips, thighs shaking as he gives you kitten licks to help you ride your orgasm - he looks up at you; your hairline damp with sweat, eyes closed in bliss, a warm hue of red sprinkled across your face, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath "i've never seen someone prettier" he declares from between the plush of your thighs, smiling up at you like it was the first time he had truly seen you - you choose to believe him

sanji:

mhm, a fine specimen ^^

- you don't keep secrets from sanji. - or more like you physically cannot. - this man is your greatest cheerleader, there's no way you can hide something from him no matter how squeamish it makes you to say out loud - so after noticing your off behaviour the entire evening and pestering you for twenty minutes after dinner, he had successfully got you to say what you were thinking out loud "sweetheart, darling, the apple of my eye. what is wrong?" you shake your head again, "nothing." "yn, my love, 'fess up" - he said it so sweetly you had to fess up. there was no choice. - "i just feel a bit bad about myself today" "bad? how so?" "i just... just feel kinda ugly" - he looks like he's going into cardiac arrest (he probably is) cause there's no way you, his girlfriend, literally the prettiest girl in all four seas just said that out loud - honestly, i can just see this man tearing up and blaming himself "is it me, mon chéri? did i do something wrong?" tears are clinging on dangerously onto his lasheline "what?! no!" "i am sorry. i love you so much. i must have said something wrong because you're so gorgeous, so earth-shatteringly beautiful-" - honestly you had to calm this bitch down first, explaining to him that he was perfect in every way he can be, it's probably just your own fault - but he refuses to accept it as your fault. - this man, this beautiful, amazing man has to now cling onto you and pepper kisses onto you face like there's no tomorrow. like everytime you try to speak, he wont let you cause he needs to ramble about how absolutely gorgeous you are - he spoke for so long that you are now convinced that to the world you may not be the prettiest woman alive but to this blonde man (with a great ass), you mean everything - his kisses blended into soft whispers and whimpers as you forced him to rest against the headboard and straddled his hips - you can feel his poking erection through his dress slacks as you kiss him senseless with only one goal in mind, to let him know he did nothing wrong - you nudge his slacks downwards till his cock hits you lightly in your face - your lips encircle his tip, sucking on it lightly as your hand moves up and down his length, languid and slow "yn~" his voice is a choked whisper, "you- are killing me. faster, please darling." - now you're catching his dick between your tits, massaging his length with the softness of your breasts as your tongue laps up at his tip, licking any pre-cum that escapes him "fuck fuck fuck fu-" his moans are an incoherent ramble, "i'm gon' cum, fuck you feel- so ngh- good" - he comes on your tits and face and almost releases again when he sees you scoop up the sticky fluid from the corner of your lips and lick it away - looking at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes, "yn, you are the most gorgeous woman i have seen." - you choose to believe him

a/n: honestly cannot thank you guys for how much you'be blown up these posts in the past few days, so here, have a little treat m.list

[milo-is-rambling]

First shower in my shower at home,,,, vibes are not what they should be

[chvoswxtch]

hi my love, my sweetness!! congrats again on 4K you deserve it so much and I love youuu!!

I know the cafe is technically closed but I thought maybe if I flirt a bit with the owner, who’s such an amazing lovely person who writes excellent fics, I thought I might be able to order a drink or two (only if there’s time and of course fine if not<3)

so could I order a macchiato over ice for Frank or Hotch. how would they be/react if they saw you in their clothes? I think both are so territorial and like daddies and if they saw you just in their sweatshirt or jacket or whatnot in a completely innocent situation they’d lose it. Let’s not even get started on at home or bedroom related

love you thank you for sharing your writing with us <333

SWEET BABY D!!!!

oh i've missed you so. thank you so much my sweet. you can order anything you want <3

sjdkshdsjkd do you know how absolutely feral hotch would go if he came home after a shitty week & saw you wearing one of his dress shirts bc i'm going feral just thinking about it so let me paint you a lil picture

as a reminder, over ice means it's spicy ! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

aaron hotchner likes you in his clothes

let me set the scene for ya. it's been a long week for our bau daddy, dealing with narcissistic psycho killers & keeping all his kids in line (the rest of the bau), & the frustrations are high when he finally steps off the jet. he doesn't even stay back to handle the mountain of paperwork waiting for him, that's how fed up he is

when he finally makes it home, it's well after midnight, & he's so tired he doesn't even wanna take a nice hot shower like he usually does to unwind. he just wants to fall into bed & let the exhaustion take over

but when he passes by the kitchen, he instantly freezes, bc there you are standing by the counter, having a lil midnight snack (eating ice cream straight out of the tub), wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts. and when I say nothing, I mean hotch can tell you are wearing absolutely nothing underneath

his eyes quickly darken with pure lust & his cock is already half hard when he stalks over towards you with determined steps

the spoon is still in your mouth when you notice him, a smile stretching across your lips around it before you lick off the sweet remnants & slip it out of your mouth

"hey, how was the c-"

you don't even get a chance to finish that sentence bc hotch cuts you off by grabbing the back of your neck to capture your mouth in a heated kiss & he does not hold anything back as he pushes you up against the counter

his kiss is aggressive & needy, & the muffled moan that escapes you tastes delicious on his tongue. his fingers make quick work of unbuttoning the few buttons you'd had done, but he doesn't push it off your shoulders. oh no, he wants you to keep it on

his hands roam over your newly exposed skin, greedily grabbing at your breasts to squeeze them roughly, his thumb & index fingers toying with your sensitive nipples knowing it'll get you all riled up for him, & the sounds you make let him know it's working

he grabs your hand & guides it to his belt, & without hesitation you follow his silent command, your nimble fingers unbuckling it while he sheds his suit jacket & tie

in a flash he swiftly spins you around & bends you over the counter, bunching the bottom of his shirt up around your hips, & he spreads your legs further apart with his foot

he wastes no time pushing forward, burying his cock deep without warning, his hand quickly covering your mouth to contain your sharp moan. his other hand has a bruising grip on your hip as he leans forward & hisses in your ear

"be quiet."

the sensation of your warm, tight walls completely enveloping his cock makes his brain go blank. he can't focus on anything else other than how good you feel. he immediately begins snapping his hips, fucking you hard & fast while grunting in your ear

with every powerful thrust, the stress & tension built up in his body from this week starts to fade, & the pleasure rapidly builds. even though he's chasing a much needed release, he's not selfish, so he slips his hand between your thighs & begins to strum swift circles over your clit with two of his fingers

he lets out a quiet, wrecked groan in your ear when he feels your pussy start to contract around him, the muffled moans against his palm only heightening his arousal. as badly as he wants to hear you fall apart, he doesn't wanna wake up jack

when he feels your body seize up as you come, hotch squeezes his eyes shut & lets out a strangled groan, gripping your waist tightly with both hands as his hips start to stutter

"fuck fuck fuck."

he comes hard, spilling deep within your snug walls, emptying himself completely. the way your cunt continues to contract around his cock milks him of every drop he has to offer, & it makes him let out a shuddering breath

placing both of his palms down on the counter to steady himself, he buries his face into your hair, panting heavily. if he wasn't exhausted before, he sure as hell is now, but he's definitely more calm. a breathless laugh leaves your lips before you speak

"well, hello to you too."

letting out a breathless chuckle of his own, hotch smiles & wraps one of his arms around your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your neck

"sorry, hi."

reaching one of your hands back to caress his face with your hand, you hum softly with a grin

"missed me that much, huh?"

leaning into your gentle touch, hotch's smile turns into a full blown grin

"always. but I have to say, I love your choice in pajamas tonight."

glancing down at yourself, it clicks that seeing you in his shirt is what set hotch off, & a devilish smirk spreads across your lips

"i'll keep that in mind. sir."

in conclusion if you hear screaming from across the world it is me

[simping-on-the-daily]

Claws, Katanas, Compassion and Ketamine

Summary: You were the link between Vanessa and Wade during their breakup. They get back together, creating the perfect triangle. And then Wolverine shows up too, because you totally live in a suite apartment that can fit everyone.

Notes: God I love poly, mutant!reader, gn!reader, I wrote this in one day and thirty minutes last night and I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be obvious

Warnings: Gets real suggestive near the end but it's a fade to black, typical Deadpool content, from swearing to sex, reader does drugs and is very unhinged Wade’s just worse, not betaread we die like Worstie’s X-Men

The three of you ‘broke up’ in your shitty but homey apartment. Vanessa knew that her death caused Wade to try and kill himself numerous times, and dying shook her up a bit. After being rejected by the Avengers, Wade spent too much time hating himself and wondering where he went wrong, unintentionally neglecting his relationship with both of you

You were the red rope, the link, the buckle on the belt, it seemed. Shit got messy, Wade assumed too fast, but Vanessa wanted to be with you and you still loved Wade, vice versa. Vanessa tried to work stuff out herself, moving out, you stayed at the apartment, and Wade went to live with Blind Al again. You video chatted and texted everyday, and did your darndest to be by both sides.

Vanessa called you one day. She'd gotten the therapy, she said. Wanted to get back with Wade, try again at the least. You encouraged her to try and ask at Wade's surprise party, an extra present to add to the love in the late mutant’s life. Vanessa blew you kisses through the computer, and you mimicked catching them and placing the kisses on your cheek.

Then Wade got kidnapped, and came back two days later, claiming to have saved your entire universe, with some extra company.

“You must think saving the world's sexy, huh, Vanny?” You joked to Vanessa, lightly elbowing her after she and Wade made the promise attempted to try again over his second birthday dinner.

“Shut up and kiss me.” Vanessa put a finger to your chin in jest, and you accepted, embracing her with a gentle kiss to the lips.

“Already getting on it without me?” Wade interrupted, a metaphorical eyebrow raised in light-hearted query, poking in from the room you were in. Your response was simply to blow a kiss, which Wade quickly grabbed and pressed his hand against his cheek, swooning like a teenage girl. Vanessa simply giggled, and dragged you both back to join the party.

You all moved into Blind Al's apartment, in truth because you wanted to take Blind Al's coke. Wade said you couldn't, however, because that was the one thing Feige said they couldn't do. “What a pussy.” You grumbled, throwing the stash back into the floor where it belonged. And then Mary Puppins pissed on your leg, because apparently the nicest Deadpool hadn't potty trained his dog for some reason. Dick.

Oh, and the motherfucking Wolverine was here for some reason.

“Disney's gonna make him keep at this until he's 90, so we gotta give the senior citizen a house otherwise we'll get canceled for elderly abuse.” Wade 'explained’ to you in a whisper, and you nodded intently like you understood. Logan gave a middle finger in response.

He existed, that was for sure. You found him napping in the cupboard once because apparently Logan thought he was too good for the floor. He minded his business, staying out of the way. You accidentally caught him showering with the sweet smelling pink soap Wade and Vanessa shared and good god, those man’s abs were carved by Michalangelo. Fucking beautiful.

You, Wade and Vanessa sat down one night, Logan out at the bar that was full of football obsessed lunatics. And at the same time, you all spoke.

“I need that werewolf cock in me.”

“My god you guys, we need to get Peanut into bed with us, have you seen him?”

“We shouldn’t let him fourth wheel us, ask if he wants to be included.”

Vanessa glared at you both. You shrugged, while Wade did his best to look innocent.

The timing could’ve been worse, with you offering the deal with a Logan who was nearly hungover. Wade on the sofa like ‘one of those French girls’, Vanessa wore a casual hoodie with those really short shorts, and you were snorting heroin. Vanessa explained everything, and you’re pretty sure you hallucinated cartoon birdies as you spoke. Turns out, Wade did the same thing too, once. 

Logan accepted anyway, so he knew what he was going to get himself into.

Eventually, you grew to accept that Logan was a weasel, not a werewolf (which is so much cooler), and that you liked seeing him smile. Made you feel good, especially when he smiled because you were running his hands through his hair.

Like some fucked up hivemind, Vanessa and Wade shared your feelings too. However, unlike last time, Logan was the one who ‘confessed’, when the dude straight up purred in contentment when you tried to sit him down at your shitty table and well, you didn’t need to do much to gather the context as to why.

You and Logan shared the ‘Good’s Cabinet’, containing your most precious drugs and Logan’s more costly drinks, both saved for the most special occasions. You offered to take him to different bars that weren’t full of football frat-bros, and both of you found a new enjoyment in clubbing.

You would wear your best jewelry and drip, while Logan would wear an oversized jacket over his ‘wife beater’ shirt, worn over his Wolverine suit. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.

“They asked for no pickles,” He hovered above you like your evil shadow clone, the worker at the front desk sweating on their head and probably under the collar.

“Haha, reference.” You jokingly poked Logan’s chest, before turning to the employee. “Don’t mind him. Never worked a day of retail in his life, doesn’t get the struggle.”

“Fuck you.” Logan added compulsory, though with the vitriol of a man whose moments of swearing have entirely lost their impact. You did get a new meal, no pickles included, so maybe the guard dog privileges are necessary.

Wade and you would often go out to the park on weekends, chilling on a bench as you gave your very persuasive remarks on all the cars Wade would sell on his job. He’d challenge you to get more ridiculous, and you'd do so with a wink and excessive references to sex.

“Get the boss to add truck nuts to all your autobots,” You suggested as you and Wade both got ice cream cones from the greatest truck of all time. “Would add some blitz to your bis, yaknow?”

“You wanna have a fivesome with our Honda Odyssey?”

“Give the objectums something good.” You shrugged, and Wade responded with a look to the audience, cosplaying as a bunch of trees in Discount Central Park.

Vanessa liked to drag you shopping, and you were content watching her search for the perfume bottles with the most ornate casing. God, she was so pretty, her hair put into that messy bun and casual dress.

“This bitch is ugly.” Vanessa said, holding up a silver bottle with a diamond bottletop. You heard a crunch, and tears quickly welled up in your eyes.

“Oh, so sorry sweetie, I wasn’t talking about you-” Vanessa held up her hands and shook them in a panic, putting the bottle back.

“It’s not that,” Your voice was barely a whisper. “I think I stepped on a ladybug.”

Vanessa looked down at the red flakes on the floor near your foot. “Sweetheart, that was an M&M.”

“Oh.” You stood there in silence for a few seconds, before turning back to Vanessa in the unnatural, freakish sort of way. “You getting anything from here?”

Vanessa smiled. “I think we should have an early lunch.” And you grinned too, as she rushed you over to the food court.

Your nights were chill nights, all four of you curled up on the bed, Mary Puppins curled beside Wade’s leg as he kept changing his position every few minutes. You would braid Vanessa’s hair as she scrolled through her phone, and Logan would lie down and accept head pats and bellyrubs with a content purr. Apparently weasels can do that.

Movie nights were great, too. Logan always got the best popcorn and you all had your designated seats. With a combination of heroin and ketamine you called ‘ketarin’, you snacked on your stash while you were all forced to share two bottles of Pepsi.

“Try it, babes,” You gestured your bucket of drugs towards Wade and Logan, the former sitting on the weasel’s lap as he tried to get comfy. “You’ll be able to smell sounds and taste colors. Stereotypical, I know, but life changing.”

Logan glared at you. “Get this fucker off me and I’ll consider it.”

“Wade, get off, I want Logan to taste my ketarin.”

The mercenary huffed in exaggeration, arms crossed. “No can do, sugar tits. Peanut here needs to learn his lesson.”

“What lesson?” You huffed. “Anyways, I forgive Logan, now get off I need him to try it.”

“He was a very bad boy today, and you know this, Y/N.” Logan rolled his eyes.

“Get off him, Wade.” Vanessa spoke in that stern voice, and even though it was not directed to you, your collar was getting hot already. “We’ll sort it out later tonight, mkay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Wade gave a mocking salute before getting off of Logan with a grumble.

“She’ll be making ya say that seriously later, you know?” You raised an eyebrow at the mercenary, who made a heart symbol with his hands as he winked.

You thrust your special bucket towards the huge, jacked man (hehe), his demands met. Logan sighed before digging his hands in, and shoved it down his mouth.

“I prefer corn starch.”

“You fucking take that back, you little slutty shitter-”

You would’ve beaten him to a pulp for disrespecting your recipe, but Vanessa gave a mock cough, getting you, him and Wade to look at her. “Legally Blonde or Die Hard?”

“It’s August, the fuck are we suggesting Die Hard for?” You huffed, arms crossed, snatching your ketarin back.

“Yeah, too early for festive cheer, sweetcheeks. And I can’t miss out on international girlboss Ms. Woods, who do you take me for?”

“Die Hard is barely a Christmas movie,” Logan scoffed, but didn’t oppose when Vanessa selected Legally Blonde with the remote.

You all relaxed, in your own fucked up way. You and Vanessa arm-wrestled over who got to have a sip of Pepsi (she won, you were trying to hold your bucket in the other hand). Wade’s commentary was louder then the movie, causing Logan to punch him, and Wade let out a murmur of ‘harder, mummy’. You snickered at Logan’s look of repulsion and confusion, looking over to Vanessa, who was most likely the mummy in question. Unfortunately for Logan, she was going onto the balcony to let Mary Puppins piss, so he looked at you.

“Something something we’ll deal with you later, something something what would Elle Woods think?”

Wade seemed to think Elle Woods thought badly of him, standing upright and flopped onto his seat. You put your hands through Logan’s hair, watching him relax from your movement, before yelping when Vanessa came back and accidentally sat down on your hand.

“Shit, so sorry.” Vanessa gave a quick kiss to your hand, and you dramatically swooned as you watched Elle Woods be a girlboss.

“Forgiven, honeybuns, for I could never be mad at such an exquisite princess, who’s hair was made from silk that Willy Wonka once commissioned-”

“Shove your Shakespeare-ass monologues up your ass and get a room.”

Blind Al spoke up, and all four of you turned to see her standing behind you, having just come home.

“This is our room, Al,” Wade countered. “We rented it fair and square while you played poker with all the other little old ladies like you.”

“You’re early.” Logan noted, holding onto a bottle as he turned back to the television.

“Wilson’s clients took a car on a joyride and crashed into the club. Drunk on that high, I reckon.”

“Were they driving with the truck nuts?”

“How the fuck would I know, stupid?”

“Ah.” You hung your head in exaggerated shame, before Al grabbed the wall and let it guide her towards her room.

“Your clients?” You asked Wade with a raised eyebrow after she was gone.

“Karen, Kenny and Twinkletoes.” He ‘answered’. “Now, back to our regular scheduled program of Elle Woo-......and the movie’s over.”

Logan snorted, and Wade gasped, turning to face him. “I’ll have you know that it was a sacrifice I made, I tell you! I gave it all up!”

“You’d give anything up for a cornchip,” Logan shot back, but Vanessa gave a loud clap that stopped the conversation. You placed your empty bucket in the sink halfheartedly before turning to your girlfriend.

“Back to bed. We’ve got some behavior to correct.” Vanessa commanded, heading to your shared room.

“Yes, mummy.” Wade answered in his most ‘uwu’ voice, leading you to groan and Logan to shove him lightly as he followed Vanessa.

“A bit too early on the petnames, buddy.”

Wade stuck his tongue at you, and you flipped the bird before following Logan, who was following Vanessa, and Wade then followed you like some fucked up, freakish line of baby ducks crossing the road.

And you would change none of it.

[slushfaerie]

slight nsfw mentions. this was supposed to be more of a fun fucking around with stoner!art thing but then i started thinking about how art probably looked into pat’s eyes as he took a hits off his bong and how patrick would insist on lighting it for him and the way they’d let their lips linger on the joints they shared. canon artrick has its claws in my heart

art donaldson was no stranger to weed. in the college tennis off-season, he'd alternate between smoking pre-rolls and flower that he’d grind up in his little black grinder with a mustache on it. it'd come as a freebie with the ounce he had bought from the dispensary and he'd smoke it in his shitty bong.

the bong that was patrick's first. just like everything else.

the piece of glass that had become a pillar of art and patrick’s time at the mark rebellato tennis academy - windows cracked open, shower cap over the fire alarm, wet paper towels stuffed under the door. they kneeled on their twin beds, pushed together, blowing the smoke out to where it wouldn't be smelled (they thought, anyway. it always was.)

patrick had always offered to light it for art when he'd make him hit it, a smirk on his face, eyes playful, saying, "you're not even clearing it - focus on sucking it". always returning it to the top right corner of his desk, like a decorative vase.

it withstood the rhythmic movement of patrick's wooden bedframe against the desk as he had kayla - no - katie pinned beneath him, huge hand covering her mouth. it had bore witness to lingering glances, overhearing as patrick had spoken to art in dulcet tones, the sounds of the friction of fabric and hands as he taught him how to jack off.

it had been art's sole company in the many nights following the Junior US Open finals. it limited his mental bandwidth to fixate on where patrick was, what patrick was doing those nights he spent with tashi after he'd gotten her number. what they were doing with each other - to each other - without him. instead he turned on sufjan stevens, seeing the little grey hexagons on the back of his eyelids as his thoughts melted into something plush.

patrick had given the bong to him. a parting gift as their chapter as roommates came to an close.

art brings it to stanford with him. one semester, you and art were were paired up together to work on a project for your general education class on greek mythology. as a student athlete, he had access to tutors who would all but give him the answers to the tests, but instead, art insisted he'd rather study with you.

even in the weeks after the project ends, you two get close enough for him to invite you to the parties his frat was throwing. the last time you had studied, you'd mentioned you'd never gotten high before, and art gave you a crooked smile and sweet crinkled eyes, joking that he'd love to be your first. told you to find him at thursday’s party.

eyes hazy, art spots you in the crowd. he takes you to his room, walking over and reaching for a vase-like object perched on the corner of his desk. he said because of water vapor or something, a hit from his bong was a much nicer to the throat compared to a joint or dry pipe.

he could even light it for you.

[dolcekissy]

tattoo galore , ღ

: ̗̀➛ rafe dating reader that has multiple tattoos and is also a tattoo artist.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ masterlist

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes mentions of sex, titty fucking, and yeahhh.

✎ i'm a beginner tattoo artist and love tattooing myself and people! but girl i just did a tattoo on myself and randomly thought about this. i loveee doing line work on myself, i'm working on doing a sleeve on my arm rn of butterflies and flowers and girlllll 😮‍💨. but i also love doing dope ass tattoos on people too. okay that's enough i just love sharing my love for tattooing! anyways hope you enjoy <3

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rafe dating a tattoo artist would definitely consist of him getting turned on just from looking at your tattoos. you could be fresh out the shower, fresh ink barely peeking through the towel and right off the bat he wants to fuck you. he's obsessed with your naked body to begin with but your naked body filled with some sexy ass ink? whew.

me personally i love me a good tattoo down the valley of the breasts and so does rafe. rafe goes absolutely feral when you come home from your shop and he sees your tits halfway out and some fresh ink right in between them. he's already sooo obsessed with your tits and now this? are you trying to kill him?

once that tattoo is healed and all pretty again (which were the longest few weeks of his life), don't be surprised when he's fucking his dick into your breasts and watching his cum drip down it.

rafe loves watching you work. whether that be you practicing on fake skin or sketching something out or watching you do tattoos on some of your friends. one time you did a tattoo on sarah and he was amazed by how steady your hand was and how beautifully done it was.

"how do you keep your hand so steady? that line is straighter than sarah's priorities." sarah whipped her head around, threatening to get up and slap him just for you to yell at her to sit still. "girl fuck him but please! sit still!" you say trying not to laugh at his corny comment.

rafe also loves watching you work on yourself. whether it's a small tattoo or a big one he'll watch you work for hours. he's so fascinated with how you can do them on yourself, knowing it's extremely difficult to learn.

you two are sitting in your shop, him stealing a chair and sitting close enough to be able to watch you while you set up and start printing out the stencil.

"what're you doin today?" you grab the stencil from the printer and hold it up showing it to him. he observes it before asking where you're doing it at, almost shitting himself as you point to your inner thigh. immediately thinking about how good that's going to look and all the open mouth kisses he'll give it before lapping up your sweet, sweet juices.

rafe is totally in awe looking at your work you've posted on your socials or when you show him the work you did that day. he's so quick to show people your work or refer people to you. he could hear the word 'tattoo' come out of someone's mouth and he's automatically jumping to tell them that his girlfriend is an artist.

he'll be out in public and hear someone talking about how they want a new tattoo and will literally walk up to them and start showing them your work. his beautiful girlfriend is just so talented. why wouldn't he?

"yeah, my girlfriend did this on herself. oh and this one on my friend just a few days ago. i'll give you her info." he'll go on and on about you, "those other artists are just shitty if i'm being honest."

rafe would immediately go to you if he wants a tattoo. no matter how many times you tell him it's free of charge he'll still pay you.

"baby, you're literally my boyfriend. you don't need to pay me for this." you say as he's shoving hundred dollar bills in your face.

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[magpiepills]

Made Me Love You

Chapter 1

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing Joel Miller x f reader x Tommy Miller

work count: 4.0

Summary: you’re Tommy Miller’s girlfriend, you’re on vacation with him and Joel. Tommy likes it when you’ve got an audience, Joel prefers being an active participant!

Warnings: PIV, oral (m and f receiving) dirty talk, voyeurism, male masturbation, jealousy, cuckolding, big dicks, bigger dicks, praise kink, cream pies, no use of Y/N, no physics description of reader, fingering, infidelity, size kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cum eating, feelings, angst, girlfriend sharing, age gap unspecific everyone is 18+ and consenting, terrible editing, shitty formatting. etc., etc., so on and so forth.

A word from the author: This is a repost! The ol’ bangfest! I don’t know what else can be said.

My Masterlist

You and Tommy are very handsy. He’s always got an arm slung around you, a hand on your hip, his fingers laced in yours, his head on your shoulder, or his lips peppering you with kisses. Even in front of family and friends. Most everyone was used to him hanging on you every moment you were together now, if not a little grossed out by the nonstop PDA.

When you were with his brother, Joel, though- he seemed like he was waiting his turn, watching expectantly when Tommy kissed you and squeezed your ass. Following Tommy’s hand with his eyes as it rubbed up and down your thigh on the couch. He never said anything, never touched you, but you got the feeling he might’ve wanted to. If you were honest with yourself, you wanted him to want to. He was gorgeous, charming, funny, friendly, and if the ever present bulge in his pants was any indication, he was hung. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be pinned under him, stuffed full and panting. Sometimes when it was Tommy on top of you, you let your mind transform him into his older brother. It was a dangerous thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Now, for five days you’d be sharing a hotel room with Tommy and Joel while Tommy had a conference and you had meetings. Joel had free time between projects of his own and came to meet you, insisting that your downtime could be spent relaxing together on the beach, going to dinner, and seeing the sights. His enthusiasm was infectious, and Tommy was adamant that you all share a room for as much time together as possible.

Nothing was planned for the night, you had late meetings and you assumed Tommy and Joel would go out together. You were surprised to walk into the room and see they were both in bed, under the covers, Tommy with a book and Joel scrolling on his phone. They looked like they were in for the night, suitcases open and half unpacked, snacks and cups on the table, tv on the corner tuned to a soccer game with the volume too low to hear. It was nice walking into such casual relaxation. You kissed Tommy hello, then went to the shower, taking your time to wash and condition your hair, shaving your legs, slathering on lotion and oil, before going about an abbreviated version of your skincare routine. You brushed, flossed, and flicked off the bathroom light on your way out, ready to fall into bed, hoping for deep and dreamless sleep.

You expected Joel would vacate your spot and get into the empty and unrumpled bed not three feet away, but he was still firmly in place when you stood beside them, phone and sleep mask in your hand, big t-shirt covering your ass, but not by much. You were the picture of bedtime readiness. Joel didn’t even glance up from his phone and you gave Tommy an almost audible look, expecting him to oust his brother. Instead he pulled you closer, wrapped an arm around your hips and down onto him. “You smell so good, baby. I’ve been thinking of you all day.” His voice was low and sweet, and if you were alone you’d have pressed your hips down into his and shown him that you’d had some thoughts of your own, but…you weren’t. Joel still scrolled on his phone, oblivious. Damn him. Tommy was undeterred. He pulled you tight against him, kissing your neck, rubbing his warm hands down your back, pulling the hem of your shirt up enough to squeeze your ass. You wiggled in protest, very much aware of your company. “He doesn’t care.” Tommy assured you. “Do you care, Joel?” Now he looks up from his phone. Of course. He looks at you, sprawled over your boyfriend, panties exposed, neck shining where Tommy had been kissing and sucking up and down from your ear to your shoulder. He took in the sight before answering “I don’t care, baby.” You knew he was teasing, but the pet name and the proximity gave you the tiniest thrill.

With his older brother’s blessing, Tommy resumed his groping. If they didn’t care, why did you care? It felt unreal to be thinking such a thing, let alone be doing it. You relaxed a bit. Returning his kisses, deepening them, seeking his tongue with yours, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth, giving it a nibble. “Missed you today.” You cooed at him before kissing his neck the way he’s kissed yours, knowing how he would respond.

As predicted, you felt him shift under you, the fell-tale bulge growing against your hip. He groaned and bucked up gently, then surprised you by rolling you onto your side next to him, into the middle of the bed. You felt Joel’s firm shoulder and arm against your back, but he didn’t move. He only shifted onto his side to face you when Tommy threw off his blankets and sank down next to you, leaning into your kiss, one hand at the back of your neck, fingers twining in your hair, and the other on your naked hip, pressing you down into the mattress and rubbing with his thumb. “Show me you missed me. I don’t believe you.”

His words moved you, flipping a switch in your brain that needed to prove yourself, to claim him, to make him love you best. If he wanted to play this game, you’d play and win. You still didn’t know why his brother was in your bed watching all this, but you didn’t care anymore. Maybe he wanted to play the game too. Tommy certainly didn’t seem to mind the company. Not if his fully hard cock was any indication. You wondered if Joel was hard too, but you didn’t dare look at him to see. Not yet. You wanted to see how far Tommy would let this go first. You pulled your shirt over your head and let it fall to the floor, pulled him closer with your leg over his hip, and reached into his boxers to take his length into both hands, squeezing and gliding over the fat head and thick, velvety shaft. You kept his gaze, and stroked him slowly.

“Thought about doing this. Thought about your cock in my throat, too. Stayed wet the whole day.” Your voice is somewhere between a whisper and a moan, meant for Tommy’s ears, but just loud enough for Joel to hear and imagine you’re talking to him. Tommy responded how you knew he would. “Suck it for me? Hm? Just a little, baby. Let me see how you missed me.” He laid on his back again, one leg straight, the other bent, foot planted on the mattress to open himself up to you. You scoot down, leaving kisses in a trail down his chest and stomach. You kissed his thighs, and heard blankets ruffling beside you. You ventured a peek over your shoulder , and were met with his Joel’s dark stare. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or enjoying your little performance. As if he could read your mind, though, he rubbed the blankets over what you can only guess was his erection. This was new. You let him see you watching him, then you flick your gaze back to Tommy, but he had already caught on and was looking at his brother too. You didn’t wait to see his reaction, you bit his thigh, licked down to his balls, and took one in your mouth while you languidly stroked him, watching the sensation wash over his face. Tommy isn’t a very vocal lover, but you can tell when he’s enjoying himself by the flush of his chest and cheeks and the way his chest expands with every breath. You wonder if Joel is still watching, admittedly excited by the idea of him getting off on the sight of you.

Joel is older, and if you were being honest, better looking than Tommy. They had the same smile, but Joel’s eyes were kinder and his dimple made him look boyish. His shoulders and arms were thick with muscle and his chest was broad. He wasn’t lanky like Tommy. He looked stronger. Bigger.

You shift onto your knees, ass in the air, guiding his length into your mouth and against the back of your throat, lips tight around the base of Tommy’s cock. You use your free hand to maneuver him onto his back to get him deeper and to give Joel a better view. When you started sucking up and down the full length of Tommy’s cock, slurping and gagging obscenely, Tommy spoke. “Look at this. Look how good she takes a cock. Fuck. So fucking deep.” You smiled around him at the praise and looked up at him, batting your lashes innocently. You heard more movement from beside, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Joel moving a bit closer, and watching you intently. Spurred on by their attention, you reach between your own legs, rubbing your clit through your panties. “You like when he watches?” Tommy asks, astonished and amazed. Your hum around his cock was your answer.

Joel’s head was spinning. He didn’t see this in the cards for tonight. Didn’t expect to be watching his little brother’s girlfriend sucking him off and touching herself, but he was pleased with this turn of events. He had been watching you all week, loving how you looked in your dresses and how you were always touching Tommy, holding his hand, grasping his arm, kissing him, hugging him, and he didn’t feel at all guilty when he came into the room yesterday afternoon and saw him rubbing your pussy under your swimsuit. You were on the balcony and when you didn’t notice him coming into the room he watched shamelessly, growing hard with jealousy and desire. He had showered in the middle of the afternoon just to give himself some relief. He had soaped his body, paying special attention to his heavy, aching cock. His grip was firm, like he imagined your cunt would be. He held his breath when he came, eyes squeezed shut, leaning with one hand on the shower wall to keep him upright, the water was hot, but the water pressure was low and the water carried his spend down the drain slowly as he watched it disappear, thinking how he’d rather it be painted across your heaving chest.

Watching you now, knowing that you knew he was watching, knew he was touching himself, and that you were into it sparked something intense in Joel. He watched you, rapt as you pulled off Tommy’s cock and turned your head, freezing under your gaze, only to melt again when he felt your hand on his hip, dangerously close to his growing erection.

Tommy’s voice was lower now, urging you on. “You should suck his cock.” You smirked at the older Miller as you repositioned yourself to make room for him to get even closer, then held Tommy’s hand and you leaned up to kiss his brother. Joel’s lips were soft and warm, opening for you easily to deepen the kiss before he let go. He threw his own blankets off, giving you your first good look at his sizable erection straining around his obnoxious neon green boxers. “You want this, sweetheart? I’ll let you take it. Look so pretty with a dick in your mouth.” You looked back to Tommy. His eyes were dark and his lips were parted, stroking himself and watching his brother make you blush with his dirty suggestions. “Do it. Let me see. Take it all.” You kissed Tommy once more before turning your attention back to Joel.

You stroked his length over his boxers, your touch making his hard cock twitch and his hips jolt up into your hand. You stroked him lightly with your fingertips, then slipped his boxers down. You couldn’t help how your jaw dropped. Fuck it’s big. Easily seven inches long, and thick. Bigger than you’d guessed just from the times you’d noticed how it bulged in his slutty, tight pants and bounced against his shorts. Joel closed his eyes and moaned softly. “Take it out. Go ahead. Want you to feel it. See what you’re doing to me.” It was a sight to behold. His cock was beautiful. It was tan and had a vein on one side, the throbbing, weeping head a pretty blush under his foreskin. For Tommy’s sake, you tried to hide your shock and delight, but Joel smirked. You set back to work, taking his turgid member in hand, pumped his shaft with a loose grip and slowly bent to lick from the underside of the base to the top, where you gave him another small flick of your tongue. You sucked his head, tasting his precum, salty and mild. The more of him you worked into your mouth, the more you wanted, the further your mind wandered to the possibilities of having them both. Deep in your throat now, Joel was groaning softly and babbling encouragement. “Yes. Yes, just like that. Fuck. Fuck. Suck it. Doing so good…” he was getting closer, but you wouldn’t get to feel him spill into your throat.

You felt a hand fan over the curve of your ass and land a heavy swat on it, followed by a gentle rub Tommy slid his thick fingers down to find your panties wet and clinging to the swollen lips of your pussy. He dragged his fingers over the damp fabric a few times, letting the fabric tease your clit before pulling your panties down to lick firmly up your seam. The sound of his moan collided mid-air with Joel’s whine at the loss of your warm, wet mouth. Tommy knew exactly how to take you apart with his tongue, licking a slick ellipse around your clit, flattening his tongue to cover your vestibule, and teasing your entrance with one, then two thick fingers. Your pussy thrummed for him, and you were lost for a few moments in bliss before he buried his digits to the knuckles and set a steady rhythm, pumping them in and out while sucking your clit, bringing your climax down around you like only he could. You were suddenly shy, realizing you’d just come while still holding your boyfriend’s brother’s cock in your hand.

Joel looked wrecked. He couldn’t get enough of you. He’d take whatever he could get. He didn’t let the hope of sinking his own cock into you and making you cry his name take him out of the moment unfolding before him. “Look so beautiful when you come.”

“Are you going to let him watch while I fuck you?” You considered for a moment and gave him your most devious smile. “Dirty man. I think you’d love it if he watched I bet you want to watch me fuck him too.” Tommy stilled for a moment and you worried you’d said too much, and you wanted to swallow your words, take it all back, but then a smile broke across his face. “Me first, though.” You knew Tommy was an exhibitionist, he loved how people looked when he kissed and squeezed you. This was on another level, though and you had never been more turned on. Two strong, tan arms wrapped around you, pulling you upright and snug against a rock hard cock. Fingers splayed over your pussy, spreading your slickness around, then smoothing it over his cock before positioning himself at your entrance and guiding himself in slowly. You sighed and dropped your head back against Tommy’s shoulder, your hand finding Joel’s bent knee to steady yourself as Tommy’s thrusts grew harder, doing your best to meet them. His arms were still around you, one banding across your stomach, the other using your shoulder for leverage. Your eyes focused when you felt pressure on your clit and saw Joel, left hand cradling his balls, right hand over your mound, thumb against your swollen clit. His eyes were locked to yours, lusty when he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked it before replacing it, his saliva giving him better slip to rub you with. “Taking him so good, baby. Look at you. You’re loving this, aren’t you? You like letting us share you? Going to let me fill you next?” All at once it was too much and you reached your climax, waves of pleasure washing over you and making you feel light and dreamy. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so cock drunk.” Tommy sounded awestruck and proud, he beamed at you and stroked your thighs as you came down from your high. “She looks like she needs more.” Joel’s voice was deeper and raspier than before. He looked at you now with open desire, so many more words unspoken and threatening to spill forth.

Tommy is still thrusting gently as you come down slowly from the high of your orgasm. “Come here, baby.” Joel is at once silky and firm, enticing and demanding. He pulls you toward him. “Can I fuck you next, sweet girl? I want to.” A pang of guilt fires in the back of your mind and as you lean into his pillowy lips, you turn and search Tommy’s expression for disapproval, but you only find hunger in his dark pupils as he nods, picking up his own pace, barreling into his own release. He’s really into this. With his blessing, and the feeling that he wants to push further, you let go of any remaining hesitation. You want to give him something to remember.

Locking into Joel’s soft, warm kiss, you situate yourself over him, holding yourself up with one elbow on the mattress and the other hand on Joel’s broad chest. He was unyielding beneath you. Tommy neared his finish and watched glossy-eyed as your ass is squeezed and your tongue is sucked by another man.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, letting us have you like this. You’re incredible. Keeping you all to himself all this time. Tan tacaño.” Joel groaned, his praise shot right back into your pussy and you clenched hard, giving Tommy just what he needed to come. He thrust harder, three, four, five, six times before stuttering his hips and spilling into your cunt. Joel pressed his length into the soft skin of your belly, and reached up to cup your breasts, pushing, pinching your nipples, rolling them under his flattened fingers, your nerve endings firing all over your body. When Tommy pulled away, he sat back on his heels to watch his cum dripping out of you, and lovingly pushed as much as he could back in.

You broke Joel’s kiss to press your lips to Tommy’s when he laid down back in his original spot, next to his brother. “Love you.” You sighed between kisses. Not to be forgotten, Joel began to slide his fingers along the folds of your sensitive pussy. You moaned into Tommy’s mouth. For the first time you sensed something of jealousy or maybe competitiveness and while you should probably be giving Tommy extra attention, making sure he knows he’s your one and only, you decide instead to stoke the flames. You let Joel push you back onto the bed, you’d head now at the bottom of the bed as he started a trail of open mouthed kisses from your mound, over your hip, across your stomach, to the underside of each breast, before stopping to suck your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking, gently palming the other before switching. He knew exactly how to work you into a needy mess for him, even after two orgasms. He dropped his hips between your thighs and brought his left knee up to wedge under your ass, opening you up for him. He pulled off your nipple with a pop. “Do you want me? Want this?” He said as he stroked his dock, rubbing it against your clit. “You can say no. I don’t think you want to, though. I think you’ve wanted this for a long time. I've seen you looking, sweetheart. Thought you were being sneaky. Dirty girl. One cock’s not enough, is it?” “Need it. Need you, Joel. Want you inside.” He huffed a cocky chuckle into your neck. “Knew it.” He notched at your entrance and inched in, letting you adjust to his size. You sighed at how full you felt already. “It’s a lot. I know. You can take it.” His reassurance didn’t help you relax as he pushed in deeper, working himself and Tommy’s cum further and further. You couldn’t stop the pathetic cries that left your lips as he set a slow but steady rhythm. Each thrust drove him deeper until he was fully seated.

Tommy was entranced,sitting up to watch from behind his brother. He had recorded the two off you before, and together you’d watch him fuck you senseless, but this, seeing you up close like this, hearing your moans and cries, the wet sounds of your willing pussy, seeing your cunt stretching and fluttering, his cum leaking out with every thrust, he was mesmerized and growing harder. He had thought of this before, wanting to share you, see you from the outside, he wondered if you’d agree, imagined it when he jerked off, never getting up the courage to ask you to give him this. Now that it was happening he wanted more. Wanted to see you desperate and cock hungry, a slut for him and whoever he’d let try you next. Of course Joel would be the one to make it happen. He was magnetic and disarming and everyone loved him. He had seen how you’d looked at his brother, how your eyes widened when you caught a glimpse of his dick in his pants. He had seen Joel looking at you, too. Eye fucking you across rooms. Now here he is, ruining you right before his eyes. He wasn’t sure this could be topped.

Joel was warm and sweating, cheeks flushed under his scruffy, graying beard. His hair was a tousled mess, and you raked through it, wanting to see if he looked as devastated as you felt. His eyes were dark and sharp and his lips were parted as he panted. He dipped his head to nip along your neck. “Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you like this. So tight. So perfect. Beautiful. Look so good taking my cock.” You slipped your hands between your bodies and gathered wetness- either yours or Tommy’s, and rubbed your clit in tight circles, feeling your release approaching fast, egged on by the vulgar things Joel was saying. “Harder, Joel. Fuck. Harder.” He let go and slammed his hips against yours, making you cry his name again, white light blurring your vision, and you felt Tommy grab your hand in his, whispering in your ear “Come for us, sweetheart. Come on my brother’s cock for me.” That was it. Your hips jerked and your back arched, eyes squeezed shut. Joel didn’t falter until he found his own release, filling you as promised with thick ropes of hot cum. No sooner than he had pulled out and sat back to see his handiwork seep out, Tommy was above you, jerking off over your pussy, lacing his cum on top.

You’d collapsed breathlessly onto the top-small bed for countless minutes before Tommy got up to fetch a couple washcloths and Joel held you against his chest, kissing your hair. “Are you ok?” He sounded nervous that you might regret your trust already. His eyes were big and soft and concerned, and your heart ached a little for him. “I’m good.”

Once you were all cleaned up and nourished with cold, leftover pizza, you turned in for the night. Tommy fell asleep fast, but you turned on your side trying to get comfortable. You met Joel's gaze across the short distance between the two beds, and when he reached out, you took his hand, wondering what would happen in the daylight, what might happen while Tommy was away.

Chapter 2

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 13) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Daddy and Mommy Issues Galore; Arguments; Crying; Angst with a Dash of Despair; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You show Jake the envelope and set off a bomb in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

A.N. It's Chapter 13 y'all. What else did you expect?

Jake returned home after work, expecting you to be up and walking around. But when you didn’t call out to him as he shut the door behind him, he went looking for you. 

Jake walked further into your shared apartment and paused when he saw you sprawled out on the couch, asleep with the small fan blowing cool air straight onto your face. You were still wearing the clothes that you wore to work that morning. 

He stopped in front of you, taking a moment for himself. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say to you about the promotion. But now that he was home and you were asleep meant that he had more time to think over those words. 

Because it was not going to be an easy discussion. 

Telling you about what the promotion meant for the next few months was not a conversation that he even wanted to think about. The absolute last thing that he wanted to do was stress you out. And the second that you started to look upset or if you started to cry, he’d crumble into dust. He couldn’t think about your broken expression. He couldn’t. It’d haunt him for the rest of his days. 

So, he decided to start with the easier audience. 

“I got promoted today, little one,” he began softly, keeping his voice low as he squatted down in front of your bump. “You shouldn��t be surprised. It was overdue, actually.” The joking smile slipped from his lips as he glanced up at your peaceful sleeping expression. “But there’s a risk that I won’t be here when you finally arrive in a few months. There was always a risk but now it got a little bigger.”

Jake bit his lip and looked down at the floor, trying to keep his own fears and emotions stable. He deserved the promotion he got. He wanted it. He craved it. He earned it. 

But the timing couldn’t have been more shitty. 

“How do you think your mom would take the news?” he whispered to your bump, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Not well, right?” After a moment of silence, he nodded and added, “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” 

Jake turned to look up at your face, his heart stabbed by the image of how calm and rested you looked laying there. He should have been celebrating. He was the first to get promoted among the Dagger Squad. Cyclone seemed to think that he had a long and successful career in the Navy ahead of him. 

But why did it have to come at the cost of the biggest moments of his personal life? Ones that he would not be able to get back if he missed them. 

“Let’s just keep it between us for right now,” Jake whispered to your bump. “I'll break it to your mom slowly, okay?”

Standing up, Jake leaned over and slowly removed your shoes in an effort to make you more comfortable. There wasn’t much else that he could do without moving you and risking waking you up. So, he got up, changed, and moved to start making dinner. He knew that you would probably be starving when you woke up.

Jake was in the middle of stirring the sauce when he heard you move. Looking over his shoulder at you, Jake removed the pan from the heat and walked over to you as you sat up, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Jake sat on the coffee table in front of you as you glanced out the window, noting the setting sun.

“What time is it?” you yawned.

“Not too late. I’m making dinner,” Jake replied, causing you to smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock, apparently,” you mused, sitting up more. “My back’s going to kill me in a few hours, I know it.” 

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll just shower,” you stated, moving to get up. 

Jake offered you his hands and you let him help you up. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you turned and headed for the bathroom. You returned a few minutes later, dressed in one of his shirts and a loose pair of shorts, as Jake was placing a healthy portion of food on a plate for you. 

“Thank you,” you told him softly as he handed you a fork. “How was work?” 

“Fine,” he responded, his voice low. 

“Just fine?” you asked, dropping your voice low in an attempt to match his own. “You know that makes me think that something bad happened.” 

“Well, something did happen,” Jake stated, causing you to set down your fork. When you looked up at him expectantly, he continued, “I got promoted. You’re looking at Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” 

“Oh, Jake,” you praised, getting up from your seat. Walking around the island, you pulled him in for a tight hug. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You deserve it. You’re an amazing aviator,” you replied, releasing him from your hug. You pressed a loving kiss to his lips before smiling up at him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He nodded and gave you another kiss, lingering, and promising more later before pulling back. Resting his forehead against your own, he cupped your bump, gently rubbing his hands over your belly.

As if it was going to be the last perfect moment that the three of you were going to share. 

“Thank you.”

You retook your seat and the two of you chatted some more. You were in the middle of telling him about the crazy lady who called your office earlier when you remembered the weird envelope. 

“And something came in the mail,” you stated, getting up again. Jake watched you curiously, a little confused. You grabbed the blue envelope and returned to the island, holding it out for Jake to take. “It’s from your mom, I think.”

The sharp clatter of Jake’s fork against his plate caused you to wince. 

Studying Jake’s expression, you frowned. Your boyfriend’s warm and comfortable demeanor was gone in a flash and now he was staring at the envelope in your hand like it was a stick of dynamite that he only had three seconds to diffuse before it blew up in both of your faces. 

“Jake?”

“I’ll take it,” Jake replied firmly, taking the envelope from your grip. 

You watched as he walked around and tossed it into the trash, ignoring your incredulous expression. He closed the trash can and returned to his seat, as if nothing ever happened. 

“Jake,” you stated, a bit scolding with your tone. “What the hell?”

You were tired of just pretending like it didn’t bother you that he didn’t share anything about his past with you. You let it slide what felt like a thousand times in the name of keeping the peace and keeping Jake comfortable. Especially when he just shut down and acted out like this at the drop of a hat. Frankly, it scared you, how quickly he could just change.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jake,” you stated more firmly as you walked to the trash can. “Why are you just throwing it out?”

“Just leave it,” Jake grunted, not looking up. 

“Why?” you challenged him, opening the trash can. 

“Just drop it,” Jake replied definitively, still not meeting your gaze. 

“Jake, I’m not one of your ensigns. And you don’t get to order me around like one,” you snapped a bit, pulling the envelope out of the trash can. Tossing it onto the countertop in front of him, you stared Jake down. “Your mother sent you a card. Why is that causing you to shut down like this?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ve got enough to worry about and I don’t want to stress you out about it.”

“Can you stop using kiddy gloves with me?” you growled, folding your arms over your chest. “I’m pregnant. And ever since we told everyone, people have treated me differently. Acting like I’m weak, like I’m going to fly off the handle, or have some massive medical episode if they have a serious conversation with me. Just tell me, Jake. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“I’m not trying to treat you differently,” Jake defended himself. “There are just things that I don’t want to discuss.”

“Jake, we’ve pushed off this whole conversation for months now. And I would like to have it before the baby comes. And if not now, when?” you asked, him before pointing at the card in front of him. “Why is a little card causing your whole personality to change like this?”

“It hasn’t.”

“Then why can’t you even look at me right now?”

Jake turned to face you with an annoyed expression that made you grind your teeth together. The two of you had a bit of a staring contest before Jake sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t want to fight about something so stupid and stress you out unnecessarily—“

“—You avoiding this conversation is unnecessarily stressing me out,” you interjected, causing Jake’s expression to sour again. “Every time I try to learn about your past, you shut down. A switch just flips in your head and you’re not you anymore. And that terrifies me, Jake.”

“It shouldn’t,” Jake insisted stubbornly. 

“Well, it does,” you snapped back at him. “I mean, if our baby asks you about your parents in a few years, are you going to shut down then? Are you going to storm off? Are you going to yell at them?”

“That’s not fair,” Jake growled, turning back to you. 

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not. Don’t bring the baby into it.”

“Jake, the baby is the whole reason why we’re here,” you stated, causing his expression to shift again. 

“So, you never would have actually wanted to be in a relationship with me if I didn’t get you pregnant?”

“That’s not what I said, Jake," you snapped back at him.

“Then what are you trying to say?” Jake asked, annoyed as he stood up. “That I wasn’t worth the trouble of telling your brother and Maverick that you’re your own person if I didn’t get you pregnant? That I was only worth it when you had to deal with me?”

“So you get to bring my family into this conversation but I had to learn your mother’s name from an envelope that you would have thrown out if I didn’t see it first?” you shot back at him. “And it’s not my fault that you and my brother and Mav had shit go down before I even moved to San Diego.”

“I’m not saying that it’s your fault,” Jake stressed. "But I'm getting really fucking tired of having to prove myself to them. Nothing I do is ever going to be good enough for them, would make me good enough for you in their eyes."

"What did they tell you?" you asked, frowning.

"Jesus Christ, what didn't they tell me? Your brother thinks I'm still going to walk out on you. That I'm going to be a shit father. Mav doesn't say anything but don't tell me that he doesn't have a plan to get rid of me," Jake stated, causing you to stare up at him with an expression like you didn't know what to do.

"I'll talk to them about it, Jake," you stated quietly, causing Jake to sigh and look away. "What?"

"Are you actually going to talk to them? Are you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you snapped, getting steadily annoyed.

“I’m just saying that your family isn’t perfect. And sometimes it feels like you need a reminder.”

“At least you know who my family is," you replied defensively. "I couldn’t tell you anything about your life prior to when my brother met you. And that’s weird, Jake!”

“Why do you care so much about it?” he pressed, causing your temper to flare up. 

“Because we’re having a baby together! And you’re making me feel like I’m insane for asking you questions about your past!”

“There are things that you don’t want to talk about, and I respect your boundaries. Why can’t you respect that I don’t want to talk about my parents?” Jake demanded, turning away from you. 

“Jake, I’m not asking for every little painful detail about your childhood. I’m just asking for an explanation for why you shut down like this when we talk about your family."

“Because my parents are assholes and I have no intention of talking to them ever again.”

“Why are you never going to talk to them again? Help me understand that, Jake,” you practically begged him for some kind of emotional depth. “I don’t understand, so help me, Jake. Because I would give a hell of a lot to have my parents back. What happened that made you feel this way? What happened that made you feel that cutting them out of your life was the only way to protect yourself?”

“I’m trying to protect you and our baby at this point,” Jake replied after a few moments. 

“Why do we need protection from your parents?”

“Because they’re snobby assholes who would never consider you part of their family. And I know that you’ve built up this image of our kid having loving family on both sides and grandparents to spoil them, but that’s not going to happen. My family isn’t going to want anything to do with you or the baby regardless of anything that you do.” Jake shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Is that a good enough explanation for why I don’t want to talk about my parents?”

“It’s a start,” you stated, causing Jake to scoff and shake his head, turning away from you.

“Is everything fair game now?” Jake muttered sarcastically, earning a glare from you. 

“What have I ever kept from you, Jake?” you asked calmly, glaring over at him. "Really, what do you want me to tell you about?" 

“Why’d you break off your engagement to Connor?” Jake asked bluntly, causing you to stare at him incredulously. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?”

“No,” Jake returned, causing your temper to raise quickly again. “If you broke up with a guy that you were with, got engaged to, after five years together and your family seemed to love, adore, and respect the guy, what’s keeping you here with me? Besides the fact that I knocked you up.”

Grinding your teeth together, you took a breath to settle yourself. You turned back to Jake, who waited expectantly for your response. Your mind made up, you straightened, and stared him down.

“I broke up with Connor because he was an asshole who kept things from me because he felt that I didn’t deserve to know them, even though we were getting married, belittled me when I tried to call him out on it, and made me feel like shit because he knew that I loved him, and he took advantage of that to keep me there.” You paused for a moment, your lips wobbling a bit, before you added harshly, “But I’m really fucking glad that I learned from that mistake.”

Jake’s annoyed expression broke, but you didn’t stand around to watch it fall. Turning on your heel as tears started to gather in your eyes, you walked away from him. Grabbing your phone, purse, and keys, you moved to slip your shoes on as Jake walked over to you. 

“Where are you going?”

“This is your apartment. So, I’m going to get some air.”

“You shouldn’t be driving when you’re upset," Jake insisted, a bit frantic as he gently reached for your arm.

“I can take care of myself, Jake,” you snapped, pulling your arm out of his grip. 

“But you’re pregnant.”

“Congratulations, Seresin, you have eyes.”

“Wait—”

You turned and shot him a look that made his blood turn cold. Reaching for the doorknob, you yanked it open harshly and stepped out into the hallway. 

“Don’t follow me.”

The door slammed shut behind you, causing Jake to wince and lower his head. 

~~~~~

Maverick was sitting on his couch, watching a baseball game when his phone started to buzz. Rolling over, he raised an eyebrow when he saw that Jake was calling him. Answering it, he held his phone to his ear. 

“Jake?”

“Mav,” Jake returned, his tone sounding off. 

“Something wrong?” When Jake didn’t reply immediately, Maverick sat up, concerned, and alert. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“No. We . . . we had a fight and she stormed off and she’s not answering my calls and I’m pretty sure that she never wants to see or talk to me ever again, but I need someone to go and look for her and make sure that she’s okay,” Jake rambled, starting to get more and more hysterical as he went on.

And Maverick only felt his concern grow when he heard the emotion in Jake’s voice. Hangman was never the type to panic. Maverick had seen other members of the Dagger Squad panic in the air and on the ground, even just for a few seconds, but never Hangman.

If Jake was freaking out, Maverick was going to freak out.

“And I didn’t know who else she would turn to and I didn’t even want to think about calling Rooster—”

“—No, I can handle it,” Maverick agreed, walking over to the door. Sliding on his jacket, Maverick adjusted the phone in his hand as he reached for his keys. “Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

“What set her off in the first place?” 

“We were talking about my family.”

Maverick knew that wasn’t the whole story and that Jake was probably avoiding saying specifics to keep Maverick on the phone, but he didn’t press it. You were out there somewhere, alone, upset, and pregnant and that was Maverick’s priority. He could deal with whatever set the whole situation off in the first place once you were found safe and sound. 

“She took her car?”

“Yes.”

“What direction did she head in when she left?”

“She’s heading towards base or you or Rooster.”

“Alright, well . . .” Maverick trailed off when he saw your car pull into his driveway. 

“What?”

“She’s here,” Maverick stated, hanging his keys up.

Sliding his jacket off his shoulders, Maverick paused for a moment, thinking about what else to say to Jake. Was Maverick shocked that the two of you had a fight that resulted in one of you storming off? No, not really. But he needed the facts. And he first and foremost needed to know that you were okay.

As did Jake.

“I’ll make sure that she and the baby are safe. You don’t have to worry about them here.”

“Thank you,” Jake croaked out quietly. 

The two men stood on the line in silence, both knowing that there were more conversations to be had, but both also knowing that their priorities were elsewhere at the moment. 

“I’ll call or text you if she’s ready to talk to you.”

“Alright,” was all Jake replied. 

“Bye, Jake.”

Maverick hung up the phone and opened the door, taking a step out as you slowly walked down the path from the driveway. Tears had already dried on your cheeks and fresh ones appeared in your eyes when you saw Maverick waiting for you. After a moment, you broke down and Maverick rushed forward, gathering you in his arms and quickly leading you inside the house. 

“Jake and I had a fight,” you cried as Maverick closed the door behind you.

“It’s going to be alright.”

~~~~~

Jake sat with just the kitchen light on, giving him just a little bit of light to see. Looking at the blue envelope on the coffee table with his mother’s scrawl written on it, Jake slowly picked it up. Ripping the envelope open, Jake pulled out a simple card like the ones that people would buy in a store.

It was a simple card that just helped destroy your relationship. 

Opening the card, Jake paused when he saw the cartoon baby on the left side of the card. With his heart beating harder in his chest, Jake turned to read the paragraphs that his mother wrote to him.

Jake,

I hope that this card finds you somehow, unlike my other messages. I miss you, sweetheart, and hope that you’re being safe flying around and not pushing limits like you usually do. Though I guess you get that from your father. He asks about you still. I know that the two of you have your differences, but maybe this new phase of life that you’re entering will change your perspective a little bit. 

I heard that you’re having a baby with a girl out in California. I hope that everything’s going well with her and that she and the baby are healthy. And that you’re getting married, which is the right thing to do. And I hope that the two of you love each other and your child with everything in your hearts. 

I’d love to meet her, Jake. And give her a beautiful gift. She’s the mother of my grandbaby and if you love her, I love her too, honey. You’re going to be a wonderful father. I hope you have a strong, sweet little boy to carry on the Seresin name. 

I haven’t told your father about what I heard, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t heard it. Please, honey, call me. The number’s the same. I just want to talk.

Love,

Mom

Jake set the card down and held his head in his hands for a moment. His mind was racing and his hands were starting to shake. There was too much going on and he had control over too little of it for him to feel calm and collected. He felt like the world was spinning and he was just getting thrown around. 

Angrily tossing the card away, Jake got to his feet and stormed off, heading down the hall to his bedroom. But when he stepped inside and saw your pregnancy pillow there, mocking him, a batch of hot, frustrated tears slipped down his cheeks. 

Dropping to his knees, Jake slammed his fist onto the carpeted floor, before holding his head in his hands and breaking down. 

~~~~~

You laid on your side in Maverick’s spare bedroom, staring out the window. You were in no emotional state to go back to see Jake and talk about your fight and you didn’t want to make it worse. Maverick told you to stay as long as you needed, and you were taking him up on his offer. You told him not to tell anyone else about what happened for now and he agreed. And after giving you some dinner and a thousand pillows, Maverick left you alone with your thoughts. 

Looking out the window, you rubbed your hand down your bump, hoping that you’d at least feel your baby move tonight. But when they didn’t move like normal, you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped your lips nor the tears down your cheeks. 

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[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being A Fire Supe

Requested: Heyy can I request the boys preferences to dating the reader that's a fire supe, maybe they radiate alot of heat so they like hold them for warmth? (I hope you see my vision lol) - anon

A/N: I see the vision my love!!!! Thank you for requesting!! I really love this idea!!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher hates sharing the bed with you, especially in the summer. You're a million degrees, and you just make the heat and humidity of the night worse. He does, however, love that when you're engulfed in flames, your clothes burn off. You always make sure you have another set of clothes, or at least Butchers jacket, to cover you up. He whistles and hollers and cheers you on and, after you're safe and covered, makes tons of jokes, many of them sexual. He needed to warm up to you at first, no pun intended, but after he got to know you, he was able to overlook his own bias against Supes and fall for you. His favorite thing is holding your hand. Your hands are so warm, especially when you're nervous or excited your skin can get so much hotter. Despite some of the discomfort he knows how powerful and necessary you are, to the team and to him.

Hughie blushes uncontrollably when he first sees your clothes burn off. You've gotten a lot more comfortable with it over the years, so you're not as fazed as you used to be. Hughie's never cared that you're a Supe. He knows there are good ones out there, and you're one of them. Still, he's getting used to you. Your relationship is pretty new, and he doesn't want to overstep, but he's got a lot of questions. Sometimes, it's uncontrollable. You'll boil just about anything you're holding. The shower steams as soon as it touches your skin. You rarely wear a jacket even in the dead of winter. For the most part, it's under control, but if you're really scared or worried, that's it. You're up in flames. He tries to help you when you're in that state, talking you down, offering support, and making sure you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You apologize profusely, but he shrugs it off. He loves you even if you burn through every piece of furniture. You'll figure it out together.

Annie met you when you were in The Seven. You and Lamplighter were a bit of a duo. Thank goodness Vought had the technology to make you a suit that wouldn't burn away every time you used your powers. That's about the only thing you liked about Vought. When Annie left, you were right beside her. In the beginning, she was afraid you'd be like everyone else, but you quickly proved that theory wrong. She fell for you instantly. She doesn't mind that you run hot, especially in the winter when the insulation in the apartment is shitty. She knows you have a lot of insecurity attached to your suit, something you held on to, all those years you spent with Homelander and the team, so she tries her best to talk it through, to get you to see just how powerful you are. It takes a long time before you start believing her. You work on your confidence together. You aren't anyone's sidekick. You're a superhero.

M.M. has a lot of issues with you at first. He doesn't like any Supe. You really have to prove your goodness, which is even harder because you like him so much and end up saying the wrong things. After he gets to know you a little better, he warms up to you. He still doesn't love the whole Supe thing, but you're a good asset for the team and you make him laugh. Once you start dating, you're a little more open about your abilities. You boil the pot when you're cooking with your hands and you light candles with the tips of your fingers, you let go of some of the control you had over your temperature and radiate as much heat as you like. When you're protecting him, you're while body is engulfed in flames. He's never seen you like that before, powerful and unapologetic. He's definitely left speechless, thought you can't tell if it's showing off your full abilities or the fact that you burned your clothes off. Either way, you don't mind.

Frenchie loves your abilities. He thinks you're powerful and dangerous and definitely a huge help in the fight against Homelander and Vought. It does help that, whenever you go all out, he gets to see you naked, though he's working on creating undergarments that don't burn away. He knows you have a lot of self-blame about being a Supe, wondering how your life could have looked had you not been able to burn through every chair you sat in or was able to feel fear and rage without bursting into flames. He thinks you're perfect just the way you are and reminds you of that constantly. He loves giving you nicknames. His favorite is Petite Flamme. He wants you to be proud of yourself, not insecure. You might think you're destructive, but he only sees power when he looks at you. Homelander should be afraid when he's up against you.

Kimiko never knew you without your powers, at least not for long. You were both held captive, both injected with Compound V. Whoever you were before then no longer exists. It was hard to control. They'd put you in separate cells. You had nothing that would catch fire. Just you and the concrete. Still you became friends and later a couple. She was never afraid of you. Where others saw destruction or uncontrollable power, she saw strength. She doesn't blink twice when you burn off your clothes or become a human heater, making the room twenty degrees hotter than it normally would be. She tells you she could never be afraid of you and she means it. When you unleash your full abilities she's awestruck, not scared. You're so much more powerful than you give yourself credit for.

[hunny-bean]

Too Close For Comfort

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank comforts you after he is forced to kill a man in your shared motel room.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Gun Violence, Dead Body (Not Frank's. Don't Worry), Explicit Sexual Content, Little Pinch of Angst, Long Ass Flashback, Porn With 3.5k Words of Plot

A/N: This is the first fic I've ever written! I've been wanting to write for the JB fandom for a while and I finally decided to go for it. I'm planning to write for a lot more of his characters in the future, but I figured Frank was a good starting point. Hope you like it! I'm open to feedback if you've got it. XOXO.

Read on AO3

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After almost three months of living in an old stolen pickup truck and a series of shitty motels, you had learned to count your blessings. An important one, you quickly came to realize, was good water pressure. You were in the middle of your forth shower in the three days you and your new travel partner had been in this town, and you were trying your best to savor the moment. Since the closest companion of long showers is long trains of thought, you allowed your mind to wander back to how your adventure first began.

You took a step back in the cereal aisle in your local grocery store to examine the top shelf and ran directly into someone trying to pass behind you. Startled, you dropped the basket you were carrying full of frozen veggies and canned soups, and watched them roll in all directions. You whipped around so quickly you almost joined your soup on the floor, but luckily a strong hand shot out to steady you before you could.

"Whoa. Sorry 'bout that," the stranger said. And that was how you met Frank Castle. Surprisingly, your first impression of him had nothing to do with his gentle giant aura or his warm, gravelly voice. Your first impression happened before you even laid eyes on him, and that was how backing up into him was like hitting a brick wall with your car. He didn't stumble or falter. He didn't even flinch.

"No, sorry, that was my fault," you replied, your cheeks flushed from creating a loud noise in a public place. The stranger removed his hand from your arm and glanced down at the floor where your bags of peas laid, slowly thawing.

"You, uh... You want some help with those?"

"Oh, I got it, don't worry."

The man mumbled an "alright" and you watched him start to walk away, expecting him to leave the aisle, but he only took a few steps before his foot brushed a stray can, and he bent down to help anyway.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that," you said when all the groceries had been collected.

"No problem," he muttered. You weren't sure why, but there was something off-putting about him. Later you realized it was the stark contrast between his gruff outer appearance and his quiet way of speaking. He was so intimidating but he seemed so trustworthy. "You have a nice day, ma'am."

Before he could walk away, you found yourself calling out to him, too curious to let him leave without asking any questions.

"Hey, I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you. . . new in town?"

He seemed amused by your attempt to start a conversation, but decided to indulge you anyway. "I'm just passin' through. So you, uh, you really know everyone that lives here?"

Although he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, he kept subtly glancing around like he was about to cross the street or something. When he turned his head, you noticed the remnants of a week-old bruise on his jaw.

"Pretty much, yeah," you responded. "So, life on the road, huh? Sounds pretty exhilarating."

He let out a friendly chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it can be. If exhilarating is what you call lukewarm showers and buying all your food from the gas station."

You smiled back, happy the man seemed to be warming up some. He seemed less on edge, and you weren't sure why, but that made you feel accomplished in some way.

"Well, this isn't a gas station," you remarked, playfully contradicting his earlier statement.

"You're right, it's not," he said. "But I had to make an exception because-" You watched as he pulled a round object from his jacket pocket, holding it up and waving it slightly as if to show it off. "-gas stations don't carry mangoes."

You mock gasped, unable to fight back a smile. "Pocket fruit? I hope you were planning to pay for that. Or are you 'just passing through' because you're on the run from the police?"

You expected him to laugh at this, but instead you saw him staring intently over your shoulder at a man who had just entered the aisle. He seemed to identify the new arrival as some sort of threat. You saw that they were looking directly at each other, and you suddenly felt uneasy. Before you could ask what was wrong, several things began happening at once.

The man at the end of the aisle pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at the two of you. No, not at you, just at the kind stranger, who immediately pushed you behind him as the first shot rang out, followed by a second one. Thankfully, they both missed the two of you, but the second bullet grazed the basket you were still holding which was sticking out from behind the stranger's leg. Instantly, you dropped the basket and began sprinting for the nearest exit with the stranger close behind you.

You ran through a door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY,' which the stranger quickly barricaded with a tall shelf packed with bulk boxes of paper towel rolls. As the shooter banged at the door, the two of you found an exit at the back of the stock room, which you flung open and rushed through into the building's side alley. The stranger pulled you behind the building to where his vehicle was conveniently parked, almost as if he'd been anticipating an emergency escape. Too terrified to argue, you didn't protest when he ordered you to get in the passenger seat and jammed his keys in the ignition. He tore out of the parking lot and onto the main road, carrying you away from your home and the man who had tried to kill you both.

It took you half an hour to work up the courage to ask questions.

"Who was he?" you asked, softly. You're sure he heard you, although he seemed happy to pretend he didn't.

After a few long moments, when he realized you weren't going to stop staring at him until he answered, he begrudgingly responded.

"A bad man."

"Why did he wanna kill you?"

"I, uh, took something from him," the stranger said, studying his rear view mirror to see if you were being followed.

"Are you a bad man?" you asked, tentatively.

At first he just sighed, and for a moment you thought that's all he was going to give you for an answer, but then he spoke.

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're asking."

"Then. . . can you take me home?"

"I can't turn around yet, not 'till I know we're not being followed. Then I might be able to take you back so you can pack a bag or two."

"Pack?! For what?" you exclaimed, dreading the answer. There was another awkward silence while the man planned his answer. "Why do I need to pack? Tell me!"

"That man, the one with the gun? He has a, uh, habit of targeting his enemies' loved ones."

"But we barely know each other, why the hell would he-"

"He doesn't know that."

"Besides," he continued after a while, "I don't really. . . have any loved ones. So he's kinda grasping at straws to find somebody I'd want to protect."

"So, he thinks you would care if I died, and now we're both in danger?" You stared at him in disbelief.

"Pretty much, yeah," he mumbled.

After that, the truck was silent for a long while. The only time you spoke in the next two hours was to give the stranger your address. You watched the trees and road pass by beside you, trying to figure out what you would pack when you finally made it home for possibly the last time. You were lost in thought so long that you were pulled out of your head by the truck's tires bouncing over the dip in your driveway. You didn't even know you had turned around.

"You get ten minutes. We're traveling light, so don't go crazy." You began to hop out of the truck before the stranger's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned around and saw that he was looking at you for the first time since you escaped the grocery store. "For the record," he began, contemplating what to say next, "I would care if he killed you."

You just stared back at him, not knowing how to respond to that.

"I'm gonna keep you safe, alright?" he promised, and you believed him.

You nodded, and went inside to gather your belongings. There was just something about this man that made you want to trust him. You managed to fit everything you needed into a large duffel bag and a back-pack. Looking around you, you realized something. You lived alone and all your friends lived out of state. This town had nothing to offer you except a shitty restaurant job. Most likely, the only person who would even notice you were gone was your boss. You took a deep breath before returning to the truck, putting your life in the hands of someone you just met.

You hopped back in the passenger seat, and the stranger helped you toss your bags in the backseat after checking that they were of a reasonable size. "You ready?" he asked.

"Fuck, no. Lets go."

The two of you took off down the road in a different direction than before, hoping to throw the bad man off your trail. After about an hour on the road, you looked over at the stranger to find him smirking slightly, lost in thought.

"What?" you asked, happy the mood seemed to be lightening despite your situation. He glanced over at you momentarily, and instead of providing a verbal response, he just reached into his pocket and handed you a slightly dented but still perfectly ripe mango. You took it from him with a smile.

"What's your name?" you asked.

He looked at you for a long moment, before seeming to make a decision. "Frank. What yours?"

You were brought back to the present by a torrent of freezing cold water, telling you you had been in there too long. You were thankful that Frank seemed to prefer morning showers. As you stepped out and dried off, you thought about the man chasing you. Eventually, when Frank opened up to you, he revealed that his name was Jordan Carlisle, and that his father was involved in the murder of Frank's family. You also discovered that the thing Frank had taken from him was his father's life. It had been so long since that day at the grocery store, and you wondered if you'd ever see him again. Maybe by this point, he'd given up on his revenge, and decided to leave Frank in peace. But Frank said Carlisle wasn't the type of man to just give up, and that if you ever wanted to stop running, someone would have to die.

During your few months together, you also learned that Frank wasn't the type to run away or avoid confrontation. The only reason he hadn't met Carlisle half way and taken him down was to keep you safe. That and the fact that he had been forced to leave behind some supplies shortly before you met and was left with nothing but a handgun, two bullets, and a pocket knife. (All things you could use to kill a man, but probably not a trained assassin).

You were both anticipating the end of the chase, however, because Frank had recently acquired various new firearms and a respectable pile of ammunition, and he was getting a little tired of running. Also, there's only so much distance you can put between you and your attacker before he realizes he's moving in the wrong direction. You had just pulled your favorite cotton nightgown over your head when-

*BANG*

You heard the unmistakable sound of the motel door being forced open. You heard a gunshot and something hit the floor. The sounds of a physical struggle just behind the bathroom door simultaneously relieved you and caused your heart to slam against your rib cage. At least you knew Frank was still alive. Unfortunately, so was the person who broke in. You couldn't see him, but you were pretty sure you knew who it was.

Two more gunshots shocked you into motion. You slid under the bathroom sink and tried desperately to remember what Frank told you to do on your first night together in case of a break in. He told you to get outside and find a hiding spot or barricade yourself in a closet or bathroom and wait for him to come get you. His voice in your head was commanding you, "Do. Not. Move." You tried to do as you were told but the urge to make sure Frank was alright was growing stronger. The muffled grunts and thuds were scaring you. You couldn't tell who had the upper hand and you didn't know enough about guns to determine which shots came from which man.

A loud cry of pain from Frank was your final straw. There wasn't a single thought in your head, let alone a plan, but you couldn't keep hiding while someone you cared about was potentially getting himself killed. You ran to the bathroom door, unlocked it, and threw it open with as much force as you could manage. The door slammed into the wall beside it with a loud crash. A distraction.

Just a few feet in front of you, Jordan Carlisle was caught off guard by the sound and he twirled around to find the source. Almost instantly, his gun was trained on you. Suddenly, you felt consumed by fear unlike anything you'd ever felt before. You heard the gunshot and flinched violently backward, as if you could somehow escape the bullet, stumbling back onto the bathroom floor. You screamed and squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for the impact, but it never came. You hesitantly opened your eyes just in time to watch Carlisle collapse onto the dirty motel carpet, eyes open and unseeing. He was dead. The chase was over.

Almost immediately you burst into tears, unable to get the image of his lifeless body out of your head. You knew you should be relieved, but there was something about almost dying that made you prone to emotional outbursts. You gazed up at Frank across the room, who still had his gun pointed at the spot where Carlisle had been standing moments before. He slowly lowered it and looked over at you where you were sitting on the floor, sobbing. He seemed angry, like every cell in his body was infused with a furious energy, and he had just shot the thing he was taking it out on.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Guess now it was your turn. "I TOLD YOU IF SOMEONE BREAKS IN, YOU FIND A PLACE TO HIDE AND YOU STAY THERE."

"I was j-just wo-horried about you," you hiccuped.

"I HAD IT COVERED."

"I'm sorr-"

"YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED. THEN ALL OF THIS RUNNING BULLSHIT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR NOTHING."

You turned your head away from the shouting and found yourself looking directly at Carlisle again. This time, you were unable to turn away. It was like you were completely frozen, tension locking all your muscles in place, rendering you incapable of even the slightest movement. Your tears began falling harder but you were barely making a sound. Your lungs were tight and burning. You couldn't even draw in a full breath. Frank's reprimanding faded into background noise. You found yourself wishing desperately that you were anywhere but in that room.

"Oh, fuck," Frank muttered when he saw you damn near hyperventilating. He calmed down considerably when he realized yelling at you was only making things worse. "Shit, I didn't want you to see this."

He made his way over to your side of the room and knelt down to be at eye level with you. You barely acknowledged his presence.

"Hey, look at me," he asked gently. You didn't move your head. Softly, Frank cupped your cheek, the one farther away from him, and used it to turn you in his direction.

"You're gonna be okay," he promised. "Can you stand, sweetheart?"

Seeing Frank alive and calm helped you come back to yourself. Slowly, you nodded. Frank stood and held out his hand to you, which you used to pull yourself up with a little effort. You managed to get upright, but your legs were shaking so hard you weren't sure if you'd be able to walk. It was pathetic, and you were quite sure Frank would agree, but he didn't say anything about it. He just took one look at you and scooped you up into his arms. You were embarrassed by your incompetence, but you had finally stopped crying, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.

Frank carried you over to your bed on the far side of the room and laid you down carefully. On your way over, you passed his bed which was closer to the bathroom, and saw two bullet holes in the pillow Frank had been laying on when you left to take a shower. That was when the relief hit you. You felt no more grief or fear or regret, only solaced by the fact that you were both alive and safe at last.

"Stay here, alright? Don't move," Frank murmured. He turned to walk over to the body again but you grabbed onto his arm before he could leave. He looked back at you questioningly.

"I heard you get hurt," you mentioned shyly. "What happened?"

Frank's eyes revealed that he was happy you were talking again. He seemed touched that your first concern when the shock wore off was for him.

"Ran into the nightstand," he admitted, rubbing his side. "It's just bruised, nothing to worry about."

You had a feeling he wasn't telling you the full story, but you decided to accept his answer. As far as you could tell, he wasn't bleeding anywhere and he didn't seem to be in much pain. Satisfied, you let go of his arm and turned to face the wall. You had a feeling you wouldn't want to see what was about to happen.

You laid there for a while, listening to Frank working behind you. You heard something being dragged across the floor, several grunts of effort and a sickening thud. You heard the faucet running in the sink and the sound of the bathroom door closing. There were footsteps moving around the room. . . the sound of someone changing clothes. You smelled the air freshener left in the bathroom cabinet masking the scent of blood.

Finally, after God knows how long, you felt the bed dip slightly as Frank sat down on the edge. You sat up and moved next to him, resting your head on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation. He put his arm around your shoulder and held you closer to him. The two of you weren't usually this affectionate, but you had certainly grown closer during your time together, and you figured the situation called for it.

"Do you think the police are on their way down here?" you asked.

Frank shrugged. "Probably not if they haven't shown up by now." Frank tried and failed to fight back a small smile. "Either that guy behind the front desk is a really heavy sleeper, or he did something to piss off the jackass in our bathtub. The only other people in this dump checked out yesterday," he said. You couldn't help but smile at that along with him. You were just so happy to be alive.

The more you let that thought run through your head, the more you wanted to be close to him. You needed more than an arm around your shoulder after you almost got shot in the head. You wanted to be held. 'Oh, sue me,' you thought. 'Who wouldn't?'

But you tried to let it be enough. You weren't sure how Frank would react to more than what you were already doing and you were too nervous to find out. You felt Frank shift next to you and realized that overthinking had caused you to become tense. The silence between you grew slowly thicker and you were worried he was about to pull away from you. In that moment, Frank standing up seemed like the absolute worst thing in the world that could happen to anyone, and you weren't about to let it.

'Fuck it', you thought, and with one quick movement, you were straddling his lap with your arms thrown over his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He was caught off guard for a brief moment, but a second later his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in and savoring the feeling of his pulse against your cheek.

"We're okay, Frankie," you breathed. "It's over."

"I told you I was gonna keep you safe, sweetheart. I don't make promises I can't keep."

The two of you stayed like that for a while, content to just hold each other until the sun shone through the curtains. Well, you thought you were content, but it wasn't long before the closeness started to affect you. He was just so warm and solid, and suddenly you felt like he was wearing too many clothes. You wanted to feel him. Feel his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin on yours.

Your stomach was tight with desperation and you felt tears forming behind your eyes. You needed to be closer. Your thighs tightened around Frank's hips and he felt your breathing get heavier against his neck. You shifted your position slightly to ease some of the wanting in your veins but you froze when you heard Frank's breath hitch.

As you settled your weight on his lap again, your new position provided a new sensation. There was something warm pressing against your inner thigh. Even through Frank's impenetrable denim jeans, you could feel it heating up.

Frank was just as aroused by your position as you were. He wanted you, too, but you knew he would never admit it because he cared about you too much to do anything that could potentially hurt you.

The worst part was, you could feel it getting bigger and pulsing softly right next to where you wanted it the most, and he knew you could feel it. He knew, and he knew you wanted it, but he still wasn't saying anything about it because he was too damn stubborn. He probably thought you weren't in your right mind and would regret it in the morning but that was just such bullshit. You could never regret him, and you were going to make sure he knew that.

There was still some part of you that was afraid to make a move, and that part of you really wanted Frank to break first. So, you decided to make him unable to ignore it any longer. Pretending to adjust your position again, you settled down directly on top of his bulge, making sure it was exactly where you wanted it. The feeling of his cock hardening against you sent another wave of desperation through your body, causing you to tighten your limbs around him again. Still feigning innocence, you rolled your hips once for good measure, grinding down on him to see his reaction.

You didn't see it so much as feel it, when his arms tensed up around you and he turned his head away from you in frustration. You could feel your blood pumping hard, and you were sure your face was flushed. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat the same way you could feel his pressed up against your clit. You felt his cock twitch again, even through three layers of fabric, and you could barely take it any more. You rolled your hips again, purely on instinct, and accidentally let out a soft moan.

Frank exhaled sharply and slid his arm from around your waist to pull your head away from his neck.

"What are you doin', sweetheart?" he asked, looking at you sympathetically when he saw your wrecked face. Suddenly, it was all too much for you, and there was nothing you could do to stop a rogue tear from sliding down your cheek.

"Please," you whispered, and that was all you had to say.

He put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you toward him before lightly brushing his lips against yours. You pushed forward, wanting more, but Frank pulled away before you could really kiss him. He just sat there for a moment, searching your eyes for any signs of reluctance or any lack of clarity whatsoever. In the end, he found nothing but pure desire and maybe, just maybe, love.

This time, when he leaned in, you met him half way. This time, it was more than just a brush of lips. Frank kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. Gentle, yes, but also tortuously deep. You felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and gently coax your mouth open to kiss you harder, and it was warm and wet and perfect. As your need got worse, you began to grind down on him again, sighing into his mouth from the friction.

The hand he had on your neck moved up to tangle in your hair, tugging gently, while the other one shifted to settle on your lower back as he encouraged harder, slower movements of your hips. As he forced you down against him, the feeling of the rough denim on your clit through your thin panties caused you to whine quietly. Every slight movement sent sparks shooting up your spine.

You shifted your body backwards and reached down between you to tug at his zipper, but it didn't want to come down. Frank let you struggle with it for a moment, but just as you started getting frustrated, he took over for you.

In one swift movement, you were on your back underneath him, your legs still hooked around him. He sat up for a moment to pull off his shirt (revealing his fucking perfect abs that seemed completely unfair and you were about to LOSE YOUR MIND BECAUSE HOLY SHIT) and then he was back on top of you, pressing one last kiss to your lips before pulling away to look you in the eyes.

"You sure you want this, sweetheart?"

"Don't you fucking dare leave me like this, Castle."

Frank snorted, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Yes, ma'am."

With one hand, he reached down to unzip and tug down his pants and underwear, freeing his flushed cock from it's uncomfortable confines. It was bigger than you expected it to be, which is saying something because you already knew he was big from rubbing against it. He was so hard it looked painful, and he gave himself a few tugs to take the edge off. Just watching it drip onto the bed had you feeling dizzy. You were unbearably wet and all you wanted was to feel it inside of you.

Luckily, Frank seemed to tell as much, because he slid his hand up your thigh, kissing your neck gently and pushing the hem of your nightgown up to your stomach. He hooked the fingers of one hand in the waistband of your underwear but he paused there, waiting for some sort of go-ahead. You nodded at him, and he sat back again to tug your panties down your legs and pull them off.

This time, instead of immediately climbing back on top of you, Frank took a moment to admire you from an upright position. He gazed hungrily at your exposed cunt before swiping a finger through your folds and brushing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You jolted at the feeling, whimpering when he did it again just to watch you shudder.

"Frankie, please," you whined.

Frank decided to have mercy on you, and he came up to kiss you as he lined the tip of his cock up with your aching hole. He pushed slowly until the thick head was all the way in, surrounded by your soft, fluttering walls. It was a stretch, and it wasn't even half-way in. You appreciated Frank giving you a moment to adjust, but you didn't want one. You wanted to feel all of him, even if it hurt.

Hooking your legs tighter around him, you tried to push him into you. It didn't work, obviously. You didn't think you could move Frank if you barreled into him full-force, but he got the message.

In one smooth thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, grunting loudly and whispering an "Oh, fuck" into your neck. Your back arched up off the bed and you moaned loudly as his cock hit sweet spots inside you that you didn't even know existed.

Having Frank hovering over you, connected to you in so many ways, was easily the best thing you'd ever experienced. You were both breathing heavily and shaking as you waited for the initial pleasure shock to wear off.

Once you adjusted, you shifted slightly under him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. Whatever stimulation you managed to get from that was nothing compared to when he actually started moving. Each thrust was slow and deep, sending waves of bliss coursing through you. You couldn't stop the gasps and whimpers that kept escaping, nor did you want to.

Franks arms were on either side of your head, closing you in so all you could see and feel was him. You had never felt so safe in your entire life. Every movement was so complete and perfect. Nothing was rushed or forceful, but it was still all pure pleasure. You were sure you had never been this wet before.

Feeling Frank's back muscles shift under your fingertips as he thrust into you was mesmerizing, and hearing him moan softly and curse against your pulse point was sending shivers through your body. Every time Frank pushed his cock back inside you, you felt yourself ascending further, rapidly approaching your peak. Every time he pulled out slowly so you could feel it dragging against every part of your sensitive walls, you wanted to sob from feeling so good.

It wasn't long before you were crying out from your release, tightening your grip on every part of Frank and leaving long scratches down his back. When your climax finally hit, you swore you were having an out-of-body experience.

"Attagirl, that's it," Frank whispered as he felt you spasm around him. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart. Where-" he began. Reluctantly, you rubbed your hand on your stomach. You hadn't had access to birth control in almost six weeks and shitty motels don't provide condoms. Even the ones with good water pressure.

You rubbed the back of Frank's head gently as his thrusts grew more erratic, grabbing onto and playing with his hair. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and jerked his cock barely three times before he was finishing on your stomach with a quiet groan, painting it with his cum.

Breathing heavily, the two of you collapsed next to each other, coming down from your highs and processing what just happened. Idly, you began playing with the mess on your stomach as you thought about what was next for the two of you. There was no way in hell you were letting Frank drop you off at your house and just take off after that. You know you said "It's over," but it couldn't really be over, right?

"Stay with me," you whispered.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, baby."

"I'm not talking about tonight. When you take me back home, stay with me."

Frank pushed himself up on one elbow, looking at you in disbelief. "Sweetheart, I don't think I can-"

"Then I'll stay with you. My house is a family heirloom, I've only gotta pay for water and electricity. It'll still be waiting for me whenever I need it."

"I can't let you do that. You have no idea how much I want to, but I'd get you killed."

"Then stop moving for a while. No one would find you in that town. Just stay with me. Please. If you hate it, you can leave."

Frank sighed, glancing around the room before settling his gaze back on you. He brought his hand to your face, brushing his fingertips down your cheek like you were a precious artifact. You both knew he wasn't ready to let you go.

"Okay."

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[bloodlinesgirly]

Somewhat off limits~Roman Reigns

warnings: smut

word count: 1593

lowercase intended

not proofread

He doesn’t enjoy arguing with you, he doesn’t mean to yell and reprimand you. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but notice the way you make his dick stand everytime he hears your voice. So what else is he supposed to do? You’re off limits to him. You’re Seth Rollins’ sister, his former sheild brother, a man roman respected in the ring and was even friends with outside of it. Roman promised himself you were the one line he would not cross. no matter how tempted.

You’re sitting at a table alone, waiting for your brother who promised he’d go over some ring stuff with you. after a few minutes you finally hear the chair across from you move, “seth you’re late” you mumble before looking up to realize the man sitting across from you is not your brother, but of course, it’s roman reigns “can we just…not do this right now?” you huffed at him, a shocked expression appearing on his face. “i just thought you’d take some constructive criticism” he shrugged at you, leaning back in his chair. “i really don’t wanna hear it.” you groan, knowing his idea of constructive is just telling you how shitty he thought you did. you know you botched the moonsault, you don’t need to hear it from him too. “you know, if you would’ve-“ he starts to speak, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “i said fuck off roman, i don’t want to hear it.” you cut him off, raising your voice a little. “why are you always such a bitch? can’t take some damn pointers without screamin” roman rolls his eyes, his muscles flexing against the black long sleeve he’s wearing. You get up from your seat, preparing to storm off. before you’re even upright his hand is gripping your wrist.

“where do you think your goin?” he huffs a laugh.

“can you leave me alone for 1 fucking day?” your tone was evident, he knows he’s making you angry, but he just can’t stop. roman tugs you closer to him before he speaks.

“actin like i don’t see you posted up around my locker room daily” he laughs, your noses almost touching as he talks. “yeah? maybe im just trynna fuck on jimmy.” you shrug. Roman’s eyes darken at your words, a new anger creeping up inside of him.

“maybe, but i think you just wanna fuck me.” his tone is annoying, the way he cocks his head at you, how close his lips are to yours. it’s all annoying. what’s even more annoying is how right that man is.

you’d give anything for him to finally take you, show you how much he really hates you. you push those thoughts to the side, looking down as you speak. “i guess i could say the same about you.” you gesture to the tent forming in his sweatpants. roman shrugged, “well that’s not fair is it? i bet you’re fuckin drippin f’me” He whispered, his lips almost grazing yours. you wanted to test the waters, push yourself a little closer but he released his grip on your wrist suddenly. just in time as your brother appeared from around the corner. “hey roman!” Seth runs over and gives him a fist bump. They chat for a while, giving you time to escape back to your locker room.

~later that night~

With becky on hiatus you found yourself sharing your hotel room with your brother, his suitcase laid open, pieces of different sets of ring gear thrown about from this morning when he couldn’t decide on one. You were starting to clean around the room when your phone pinged a few feet away from you.

~text photo here~

you feel your heart start to race, “am i seriously doing this right now?” you mutter to yourself. you start looking for something to wear and settle on your favorite matching set with a silk nightgown over top. You throw on some makeup using your phone camera and smooth out your hair with your hands. Seth was in the shower so the bathroom was off limits.

“Seth i’ll be back later tonight” you yell at the bathroom door and hoped he heard you. Taking one last deep breath you leave your room and head down the hall to roman’s, praying no one sees you on your way.

One knock and the door swings open, roman stood there, his muscular frame almost taking up the whole opening. his hair was wet, your eyes followed a droplet down his chest and abs, settling at the band of his sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“it’s not nice to stare, is it?” his voice brings you out of your trance, you feel your cheeks go red as you look up at him.

“are you gonna let me in or are we gonna stand here all night?” you huff and push through him into the room.

Immediately your backs pressed to the door, one of roman’s hands resting on your throat. He bends down slightly, lips resting on your ear, his soft breaths sending shivers through your body” see this why you’re here…we’re gonna fix that attitude right the fuck now.” you’re breath hitches as he speaks. “why don’t you take this off for me hm?” he pulls at the hem of your nightgown. you hesitate before pulling it over your head, leaving you only in a bra and underwear. “mmm…there we go” he groans. his hands wandering to your ass, squeezing it harshly. you moan at his touch and wrap your arms around his neck. finally his lips crash onto yours, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. you moan into the kiss allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. roman’s hand cups your pussy over your underwear, fingers wandering over the wet spot he’s created.

“mhmmm that’s what i like to see baby…you gon let me fuck this pussy?” he let out a breathy moan as he spoke. “yyyes…roman..fuck-“ you whimper as he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your folds. you move your hips against his hand wanting nothing more than his dick inside you, or at least his fingers. he smirks as your hole hungrily sucks in his 2 fingers. your body complying with him completely. “roman please baby…need you so bad” your whines go straight to his dick, painfully hard in his sweats. he curls his fingers inside of you hitting your spot, he grunts as you gush down his wrist. “where’s that attitude now sweetheart? this really all it takes to shut you up?”

“fuck you” your words come out shaky and not at all how you wanted them too.

“oh you’re about to” roman laughs, you whine as his fingers leave your pussy.

roman reaches behind you and unclips the bra you're wearing before laying you down on his bed. the mattress dips as he kneels by your legs, dragging your underwear down your thighs. completely bare in front of him you watch as his eyes travel up and down your body, committing the sight of you laid out for him to memory. you watch as he stands up to get rid of his sweats and boxers. your cunt drips at the sight of his cock. it’s long and the perfect thickness with veins in all the right places. its pretty. roman’s hands sit heavy on your thighs, spreading you open. You sit up on your elbows and watch as he slides his dick along your folds.

“stop teasing” you gasp as his dick presses hard on your clit. finally he presses tip to your hole, you hiss at the stretch. within a couple thrust he sinks completely into you, quite grunts falling from his lips. “ss-so fucking tight” he grabs your legs, the bends of you knees sitting perfectly in his arms. he pulls out almost completely before thrusting back into you. “oh shhit daddy mmm” your moans drive him deeper, thrusting harder into your pussy. the sounds of your wetness and his thighs slapping your ass was loud throughout the room. he’ll definitely have a noise complaint waiting for him. he bends down a little, pressing your thighs almost to your stomach allowing him to hit deeper. your lips clash sloppily, your moans filling his mouth as much as his are filling yours. he slows his movements, thrusting as deep as possible before grinding his dick into you. his abs rutting against you clit sends you over the edge “i’m cumming daddy fuck, i’m cumming…please” roman let’s out a sound almost like a whimper as he feels you clenched around his cock. “mhmmm gon’ make me nut, squeezing me like that” his words come out in heavy breaths, his thrust slow and deep becoming shallow and fast, working himself towards his own high. deep grunts and quiet whimpers fall from his mouth. with one last deep thrust he buries himself inside of you, spilling ropes of hot cum deep in your pussy. you moan as he fills you, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. he pulls out, watching his and your cum drip from your pussy down to the sheets below.

“you’re brother is gonna kill me.” roman says and you both laugh.

“i should probably get back…i told him i was coming home.” you sigh softly. roman grabs your chin and kisses you tenderly, playfully pulling your bottom lip.

“call and tell him you’re stayin…im not done with you yet.”

[questionableratatouille00]

𝘖𝘯 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 (𝘖𝘧𝘧 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend had only gotten better. At least, until a new part of the equation came along.

Warnings: unwanted erections, discomfort, past SA (no graphic descriptions), hurt/comfort, shame/humiliation, fluff. As always, let me know if more needs to be added.

[Series Masterlist]

It had been a month since your shared shower, and things were going great. You and Bucky hadn’t been intimate, but there was an insanely higher amount of intimacy between you.

He held your hand, rested against you. Hell—the two of you even cuddled most nights. And you reveled in it.

And part of you knew he did, too.

You walked into the kitchen, your phone and some other random items in your hands. Bucky was always astounded by the fact that you could hold so many things in one hand. You were positive it came from a lack of pockets for so many years.

“Hey, Buck.” You greeted as you set all of your junk onto the island to be later forgotten.

“Hi.” He said awkwardly as he shuffled around.

You felt your brows furrowing. “You good?”

He nodded, but shuffled off into another room quickly. You didn’t follow, positive he was just having an off day. It happens.

And that was the end of that.

Your arms slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck and resting on his shoulders as his hands stayed planted on your hips.

The kiss was loving, and downright passionate—like it came straight out of a fanfiction, regardless of if those kinds of kisses were even real.

It lasted a while, both of you pausing for split seconds just to breathe before returning to the kiss.

Until he pulled away suddenly, a strange look in his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked softly.

“Nothing.” He rushed the word out. “I think I left the oven on from when we made that pizza earlier.” He said as he pulled away and walked out of the bedroom.

You stood there, entirely unsure of what you did wrong.

You snuggled up against him as he wrapped his strong arms around you. Your back was pressed against his chiseled chest, one of his knees resting on top of yours as he clung to you like a koala.

You closed your eyes, just about to fall asleep. In that same moment, he pulled away and rolled over.

“Woah—are you okay?” You were startled by the sudden movement.

“Yeah. It’s just hot tonight.” He murmured, not turning to look at you.

“Bucky, it’s cold tonight.” You couldn’t help the frustration that leaked into your voice. You instantly regretted it.

“Listen—I’m sorry. It’s just that you’ve been randomly running away and I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong.” You confessed.

He sighed. “You’re not doing anything wrong, dollface.”

You paused, waiting for him to continue.

“I—God, this is stupid.” He rubbed at his face.

“It’s not, baby. Just..can you tell me what’s wrong?” You gently prompted.

“It’s not you. I swear.” He assured you, before taking a breath. “It’s—I’m hard.”

You blinked. “What?”

He rolled over to face you, the blanket pulled up on him, resting just under his ribs. “I mean I’m hard, honey.”

“Okay. That—I’m lost.” You told him.

“It’s another shitty thing HYDRA ruined for me.” He began to explain. “Whenever I got—I got like this, there was like, six ways it could go. Sometimes they’d get me like this on purpose then shame or beat me for it. Sometimes they’d do it to me and then fuck me—as a reward, I guess. Sometimes it’d just happen naturally and it could go either way.”

You frowned, letting him continue.

“So..I think now that every time it happens, I just assume..there’ll be some kind of consequence.” He finishes his thought.

“There won’t be,” you murmur, offering your hand. He takes it. “I will never lay a finger on you in anyway that’s not gentle. And I’d never touch you in that way without your explicit permission.”

“I know,” he hummed. “I know that. I don’t think my brain does.”

“Me and your brain will just have to have a ‘stern talking to’ session.” You teased, instantly lightening the mood. He cracked a small smile.

“Can..can we still cuddle?” He asked. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable—“

“We can.” You chuckled. “That stuff doesn’t bother me. It’s just your body doing what it knows to do, babe.”

“I feel like a preteen boy.” He grumbled as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

You chuckled, not at all bothered by what’s pressing against your thigh. “Womp womp.” You said in a goofy voice, one you knew would make him smile. And he did.

“I love you, Buck.” You hummed into his hair.

“I love you too.” He answered back. And then you shut your eyes, and began to fall asleep.

A/n: another part! I love this series. If you enjoyed, please REBLOG. likes do nothing 😊

graphics by @saradika-graphics

[dixons-sunshine]

Pull Through | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While you were injured with no way of knowing if you'd make it or not, Daryl let the group in on his feelings. He shares some of his memories with you, as well as some of his worries.

Genre: Angst.

Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU, but can be read as a standalone. However, some call backs are made to previous parts in this.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/n: I've had this idea in my mind for another part to the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU for a while now, but I just don't know how to put it into a proper fic. This is more of a filler than an actual fic, but anyways. Hope you like this!

“Ya know, Shane wasn't the first person to tell me tha' I dun' deserve her.”

Rick looked up from his daughter to look at the archer, Daryl holding his own five month old baby girl in his arms. Rick's heart broke at the sight of his found brother's clear distress evident on his face. He was staring off at nothing in particular, thankfully lucid enough to keep Hazel in place on his lap. It was clear that your recent injury had taken its toll on Daryl, and Rick knew that if you didn't wake up from your little coma, Daryl would be a mess; he would be a bigger mess than Rick was when he lost Lori.

“My whole life, even 'fore I grew the balls to confess to her, people were tellin' me tha' I dun' deserve her, tha' I ain't good 'nough fer her, tha' she'll see it herself and leave me.” Daryl stopped for a moment, his attention temporarily being diverted to his daughter who was starting to fuss a little. He whispered sweet nothings to her in the hopes of calming her down, slightly bouncing his leg and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. “But she never left. Even when things weren't all sunshines and rainbows, she stayed. She loved me regardless of all of my flaws, and god knows I have a shit ton of 'em. She ain't ever even thought 'bout walkin' outta the door, even when she could'a, and I wouldn't have blamed her.”

By now, a few people in the group has stopped to listen to the usually quiet archer. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, Hershel, Michonne, Carl and Carol stopped to listen to him. It was extremely rare to hear Daryl talk about anything outside of the usual “formal” work talk—who would go on runs, who'd work on the fence, etc.—so everyone was intrigued to hear the brooding huntsman speak his mind.

“She deserved so much better than me, and I know tha', but she didn't think so. She stuck with me through everythin'. Through most'a my childhood, through highschool, through Merle and his bullshit, everythin'.” Daryl inhaled sharply and let out a shaky exhale, trying to keep his emotions under control. “She always managed to make the most outta everythin'. When I saw a glass tha' was half empty, she saw a glass tha' was half full. Ya know, our first apartment we lived in after movin' outta her mom's trailer was so shitty.”

“Yeah?” Rick replied, just letting Daryl know that he was listening.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a broken chuckle, nodding his head and allowing Hazel to play with his fingers. “Hot water didn't work most'a the time, the oven only worked when it wanted to, the pipes made this weird screeching sound whenever it was cold, and the window to our bedroom was jammed shut. It never opened, so it was hella hot in the summer.” He sighed again and shook his head. “We lived in tha' crappy place fer years 'fore either of us had 'nough money to move into a better place. But she never complained, never threatened to leave me if I didn't find a better apartment, never once blamed me when she had to take a cold shower in the winter. Hell, she even planned on proposin' to me 'cause I was takin' too long.” For added emphasis, he lifted his left hand to show off the silver band he proudly wore every day of his life since that day in your apartment. “I beat her to it, though. She's jus' so amazin'. I love her. I can't lose her. I'll die without her.” And with that last sentence, a sob finally broke out of the archer's chest.

Within seconds, Rick had gently grabbed Hazel from Daryl's arms and passed her over to Carol—who had been on her way to offer her own support to the huntsman—before wrapping his arms around his unofficial brother. Judith had been passed over to Beth during Daryl's speech to be put down for the night, so it made it easier for the former sheriff to jump up and hug Daryl. The archer never once displayed any forms of sadness in front of the group that had to do with crying. His sadness was usually handled through anger, but this wasn't a usual situation. You—the love of his life and the mother of his baby girl—were clinging on for dear life in your weakened state. The attackers that ambushed the group of people who went on the run the previous day made you suffer the worst of the attack. Hershel did his best with the supplies he had, but there was no telling if you'd recover until you woke up, if you ever woke up. And that scared Daryl beyond belief.

Rick didn't hold Daryl long, maybe two minutes at most, until he pulled away. Daryl furiously wiped at the tears in his eyes, mad at himself for displaying such weakness in front of everybody. However, nobody made any sort of comment towards him, their own understanding and worry towards you preventing them from doing so.

“If there's one thing I know,” Rick began, standing up and allowing Daryl to have some space. “It's that you Dixons are fucking stubborn. She'll pull through, I know it.”

Daryl sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes one more time before getting up and gently taking his daughter from Carol. “She needs to be put to bed soon. She, uh, needs to see her mama 'fore it, though, jus' in case...”

Just in case you didn't make it.

Rick nodded sympathetically, and with that, Daryl walked away from everyone's empathetic gazes. He walked up the stairs and made his way to the makeshift medical cell, expecting to see you asleep, like you had been for over twenty-four hours at that point. However, he was instead met with the sight of you sat up and crouched over to the side, heaving and clutching at your chest, awake and alert, and he didn't hesitate to call for help.

“Hershel!”

Within seconds, the old man had hobbled himself over to the cell and was by your side in an instant. He was helping you put an oxygen mask over your mouth to help you breath, and once you weren't struggling to breathe anymore, he sent a frightened looking Daryl a reassuring smile. He beckoned him closer, and with Hazel still in his arms, he walked over to you and sat down on the bed, hugging you gently and quickly before pulling back—there would be time to crush you to him and never let you go when you weren't sat with a recently shot stomach and a few broken ribs. Hershel patted his back reassuringly, and he sent a very awake, lucid you a warm smile.

“Welcome back.” He turned to Daryl and nodded. “She pulled through.”

“S'a good sign, righ'?”

For the first time in twenty four hours, Hershel gave the archer good news. “It's a damn good sign.”

You were grunting and reaching out to Daryl, and your husband instantly knew what you were requesting. With a nod from Hershel, Daryl slowly transfered Hazel into your arms, and your little one instantly recognized her mama's touch. Her mood instantly brightened, right alongside her father's.

You were okay. However, the same definitely wouldn't be said for the son of a bitch held prisoner as soon as Daryl was done with him later—he was going to pay for hurting you, and Daryl wasn't going to go easy on him, either.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.