#but fuck it's been bugging me for a long while now
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i got bit by the butch wolverine bug and trust me im in lov w her BUT have we considered futch deadpool???
(headcanons and upcoming fic snippets under the cut)
working on a big silly fanfic about this hot mess boinking logan in the odyssey. here’s some headcanons while the story finishes cooking.
- so. kept her first name as wade. i’ve seen a few alt names floating around for f!deadpool (big love for the winnies, winonas, and wandas of the ladypool extended universe) but genderfuck ‘not rlly a name’ just fits my vision for her. her parents were weird idk.
- deadpool is a woman in all variants except one in my personal headcanon. he is called dudepool. also her corresponding nicepool is male gaze-ified pre-mutation wade. she’s bleach blonde and her suit has a titty window.
- ex special forces turned mercenary whose life shit the bed when she was diagnosed with cancer. tried to be proactive about it long enough to get a mastectomy, then found out said cancer was pretty much everywhere else, and we know the story from there. since this predates her healing factor, she’s permanently single-boobed. has padding in her suit to even her out since it doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, wears big t-shirts and ignores it in her civilian life.
- bisexual disaster zone. spent many years in a very happy and deeply perverted relationship with a male stripper named van carlysle, until that went down the toilet. a solid 70% of the casual sex she has is with women.
- dresses like the shitshow nightmare we know and love, loves an awful t shirt and a pair of crocs. put little to no effort into her appearance pre-mutation and that hasn’t really changed, had a brief phase of screwing around with makeup and wigs and then decided it was basically - to use a line of internal monologue from the pending fic - rolling a turd in glitter.
- speaking of, has a real complex about the changes to the way people perceive her post-mutation, namely that they seem to find her super fucking irritating and odd in a way that they very much Didn’t when she was still conventionally hot. between her military background and the general company she keeps, she’s quite often the only woman in her circles, and has always been a dysfunctional mess of adhd and unfiltered word-vomit, but that was generally read as mpdg ‘cool girl’ behaviour prior to her transformation, and now people seem to just think she’s a lunatic. less ‘oh god im hideous’, although she *absolutely* has those moments too, more ‘oh god everyone i know has thought i was a weird pain in the ass this entire time and only tolerated me because they wanted to fuck me’
- wears a lot of poorly applied eyeliner and purposely sleeps in it because she thinks it looks cool. it does not.
- had absolutely zero plans to snitch to cassandra about johnny’s rant, right up until the ‘bald hell’ line. she took that shit personally (almost definitely didn’t need to but whatever. i support women’s wrongs.)
and some snippets from the fic, all of which are me wade objectifying logan. technically spoilers but also what else did anyone expect
#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool fanart#deadpool#lady deadpool#ladypool#Wade Wilson#x men#x men fanart#digital illustration#digital art#butch wolverine#poolverine#deadclaws#lesbian deadpool#f!deadpool#rule 63#marvel fanart#genderswap
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Hi! Would you be willing to write some rosekiller angst? Some hurt/comfort goes a long way :-)
tags: angst, torture, death eater rosekiller wordcount: 623
Evan wasn't even crying anymore. His body was almost numb from all the pain he'd been put through over the last hour. His throat was sore from all the screaming. And all that because he hadn't killed a child.
Eventually, they just left him lying on the cold floor, unable to move.
Barty made sure everyone was gone, before he snuck through the black doors, cowering next to Evan.
"Rosie? Baby?" He gently lifted him up into his lap, stroking his hair. The boy looked pale, exhausted. Barty hated them for hurting him. His lovely, brilliant, weird, beautiful Evan. Evan, who knew how to heal, unlike Barty. The bigger problem was, that Barty didn't even know what spell he would use in this situation. It wasn't like there was anything exactly wrong with him. Evan hadn't broken a bone or dislocated a shoulder, he'd just experienced a lot of pain.
He needed to get him help. Regulus would know what to do. He always knew what to do, he was always in control. Barty placed a soft kiss on his boyfriend's forehead, before carrying him through the manor. It was the kind of house that was so dark it seemed to swallow all the light and with it the joy. Just like his old home.
Halfway up the stairs, Evan began shaking in his arms. "It's fine. You'll be fine. We'll get you help", he whispered, holding him closer.
They both shared a room with Regulus, which had made things around here slightly more bearable. "Put him on his bed", the youngest Black instructed as he saw them walking in, placing his book aside and gabbing his wand.
"They took turns on him for an hour. I don't know what to do", Barty explained, voice not as steady as he would have liked. "I know, I heard him...." He swallowed, before sitting next to Evan on the bed.
For the next 20 minutes, Barty paced through the room, trying to help Regulus as much as he could. Then he waited.
Evan had stopped shaking and wasn't as pale as before, but it took him a while before he woke up again.
"Rosie... Are you okay? How do you feel?", he asked, softly taking his hand. "Feel like shit." His voice was rasp and barely audible, but he was back. Half-open eyes, a weak grasp, but he was back. And he was alive.
Barty gave him a glass of water, which Evan emptied in one go. With a quiet sigh, Barty lay down next to him, face buried in the crook of his neck.
"I was scared", he admitted after a while. "I thought I would lose you." "I was scared too", Evan whispered. "But I really didn't want to kill this kid. And it's pretty fucked up that they make us." "It is. But it's not worth you being tortured like this." "Yeah... Maybe." Evan sighed, pulling Barty closer to him.
He liked being alive. He liked a lot of things about it. Being with Barty, feeling the sun on his face, good food, all kinds of bugs and spiders, flower fields, his sister, spending time with his friends... But life like this... Spending most of his time in this dark, cold house, going out mostly at night, and when they went out it was to kill people. Time with his friends and with Barty had also become very thin because most of them were always busy and Pandora refused to talk to him.
"Bee?" "Hm?" He sounded like he was half asleep. "If I wanted to leave... would you come with me?" Barty looked up at him, but before he could answer, there was a loud banging at the door.
"Crouch. We need you for a mission. Now."
#ao3 down#ao3 is down#how do I upload this on my ao3 when my love is dead#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders era#fanfic#ao3 writer#barty crouch jr#evan rosier#evan x barty#rosekiller#slytherin skittles
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I'm gonna say it: there'd be a lot less vitriol towards Sydcarmy if it was an m/m ship, especially if it was another attractive white man. 😒 For example put a man like Luca (sorry for dragging you into this babe) and put him in a Sydcarmy scene like the one under the table or the panic attack without changing anything. I bet it'd SUDDENLY make sense to them. 🙄
#sydcarmy#clutch speaks#hitting the hornets nest with this one lads#but fuck it's been bugging me for a long while now#side note if these mfuckers really wanted great m/f friendships#Tina is literally RIGHT FUCKING THERE#she has such fantastic relationships with Ebra and Richie#this is really only aimed at a particular set of hateful antis btw
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acv hate on my dash and i can't even be mad about it because they make some good points 😶
#like yes it was extremely fucking weird to have us play as a viking with all the violence that entails#while conveniently sidestepping any real consequences for that violence or contending with the results of that violence#because you're too afraid that lingering on it for too long might make your protag look bad#it's like they suddenly decided that their audience is too stupid to deal with moral ambiguity. in the moral ambiguity franchise.#this is once again drifting towards my forever argument that making these games rpgs was a mistake#or rather making these games *half-assed* rpgs was a mistake#and weakens the narrative bc there's never any meaningful follow through for any decisions#including some of the decisions that we the player don't even get to make ourselves#like i think having a set narrative would eliminate a lot of the problems with this game's writing#because they clearly weren't willing to take the rpg elements all the way#also just... make it smaller. there's too many arcs and too many diversions from the main narrative#which while a lot of them admittedly have some fun character moments they probably should not have been required to advance the main story#and with no mission replay or ng+ it's just so prohibitive to replay unless you're like me (deeply mentally ill and in love with eivor)#the point being that dissonance has always bugged me about this game. i could fix her i could fix her i could fix her#anyway. hi i'm gonna go do that ask game now ajdgjhdsf#the nerve pain last night was making it difficult to be on the computer. tbh it also is right now but we soldier on 🫠#ky posts text#ac.txt
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The Lore/Cov RP is picking up again and I’m so excited I need to express the emotion here too. They’ve been separated for sooooo long and finally finally finally about to reunite I cry and scream.
#by bug#they’ve both endured so much bullshit#literal torture#carim sucks man#I can’t express how much their story means to me though and how much it has for the past year#I really should do those recaps again if not just for my own benefit of reviewing everything#the last one was from anor londo and I think we’ve been at least *headed* towards carim since like feb or march maybe a bit later but jesus#long-ass arc#or reply length got wayyyy longer too tho so that’s part of why it’s taken a while now I think#god lore was such a fucking badass in the last reply I adore her
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Experienced biiiig big plot twist things in tales of arise. I am fucking Reeling. That was so good but also so. So much. Oh my God...
#speculation nation#doesnt help that this came after probably the hardest boss of this game so far djfkshkfbd#i was fucking BLAZING through my items trying to keep up with how many people were dropping#and i made it. but having three team members down while the only one standing is pretty low on health#is VERY nerve wracking hdkshckd#i managed to turn the tides but hoooly shit lmfao. man.#and. GOD this plot twist is just. oh my godddd#im only level THIRTY WHAT DO YOU MEAN GAME CHANGING PLOT TWISTS ARE HAPPENING RN#I HAVENT EVEN REACHED THE LEVEL OF THE GIANT BUG IN THE FIRST MAP (level 40 ish)#hfkshfjdjjdfb i need to look up how long this game is bc this feels very endgame like but i am only level 30 😭😭😭😭😭#am i underleveled??!????! i was defeating the normal enemies with ease so i figured i was a comfortable level#but after that boss battle im not so sure... hfkshfkdb#and now i have to go without my primary healer for ??? amount of time#dear dohalim you have been promoted from secondary healer to primary healer. dont fuck this up.#yelling screaming crying i meant to go to bed an Hour ago but that really threw me for a loop#this game. this fucking game. hoooly fucking shit lmfao
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the setting itself can be the monster... but also... a lover? much to think about
#random thoughts#thinking about a house which is alive and is obsessed with you#and it has full control of whatever non-living items lay inside its walls#(with of course one of the horror aspects being 'if something dies it is now an object and can be controlled')#(which could be used for a 'the house kills your spouse and then takes control of their body to love you like it thinks your spouse should')#(and as long as the body stays inside the house it stays intact but if a long time passes and it leaves it fucking insta rots)#i think a lot of what the house does is just to keep you from leaving#from seemingly innocuous stuff like 'oh we're out of milk i should go buy some-nevermind i found a half pint in the back of the fridge'#to stuff like making fake phone calls so you think your friends keep canceling plans on you while you're seemingly ghosting your friends#to just straight-up making a fake outside. i imagine this would be very taxing on the house for long periods of time (su rose's room)#now i'm imagining the house possessing your spouse's corpse and remolding it to fit what it wants to look like better#either as a form of self-expression or from a place of perfectionism ('those slightly uneven eyes have been bugging me for MONTHS')#the house is a control freak perfectionist and likes you being inside where it knows everything and can control all#no privacy at all#i doubt the house's perception is all-seeing so let's say you can tell it's watching if things in the same room as you are being adjusted#a slightly ajar kitchen cabinet being gently closed. stuffed animals adjusting their positions to be in a perfect row.#and if it's feeling particularly ominous the stuffed animals could all be turned to look at your bed#imagine you sleep with a favorite stuffed animal and as you're drifting off you could SWEAR it adjusted itself in your arms#almost like it was getting comfortable...#horror#and of course the spouse doesn't believe anything you say and thinks you're going crazy so. accidental gaslighting#it would culminate in a screaming match between you and your spouse and your spouse moves as to hit you#and SNAP the house force-snaps their neck#or maybe there's a rube goldberg machine going on in the background of a gun magically loading and firing itself directly into their skull#spouse drops dead. pin-drop quiet. GETS up. brushes itself off. 'well that's a bit better'#imagining 1950s btw. something about the horror of your home being both your prison and your solace#you are a housewife and you and your husband just moved into this edwardian-era townhouse in the hopes of starting a family#your husband works a lot so of course you're the one who notices the house being fucking weird#maybe at first you assume it's a ghost and you're a bit scared until you find a way to communicate and then you just have a new friend#maybe your only friend in a new town
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I can not sleep
#this actually SUCKS#my back aches and i can hear the electricity whirring through the walls#and i can feel bugs on me but i know theyre not real but i cant because what if#i cant lie still#brain is going random places#lizzietalks#i am going.#mildly insane#this close to sleeping on kitchen tile rn#havent tdone it in very long time#however#tempting#last night was constant nightmares#and now its just no sleep at all#please heavens let me sleep#j think im probably just anxious#easter is over and its time for me to return tk the city#i hate the city#i have been aboiding about how anxious i am this week so much i forgot i was#so last nights nightmares (there were four)#makes complete sense#cause why was i getting literally murdered so much#god im so tired#and i am screaming into the void cause im too ancious to actually tell anyone else because like#im bothering them and also like wtf is anyone meant to do with this information of ther than#lizzie is depressed again#the only times i have left my house this past two weeks is because i made plans to make sure id leave#all the while being completely fine™#because i dont want anyone to know i am indact depressed again#because ill become sad lizzy is fucking sad again
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too sweet for me
Dp&W!Logan howlett x fem!reader
Summary: You've not been feeling like yourself, and you take it out on logan until one day he decides he can't take it anymore.
Content Warnings: established relationship | spanking | mention of safe word | dom/sub undertones | fingering | maturbation (male) | facials | so sorry if I left anything out. If you tell me I'll fix it.
Word count: 4.2k
Authors note: I'm still trying to get into the swing of writing. I hope you enjoy. Not proofread. My requests are open. Pictures used are not mine found on Pinterest. Divider by @saradika-graphics
My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact.
You had been in a foul mood all day, no better yet all week. Any little thing Logan did got under your skin. He used your shampoo, and suddenly, you were slinging the bottle across the bathroom. He made your coffee, and you snatched it away from him. He said good morning, and you responded with a roll of your eyes and a "good morning" under your breath. It seemed like all you wanted to do was pick a fight. And your attitude was aimed solely at him.
Logan noticed how relaxed and sweet you were with Wade. He watched as you laughed, and it he wouldn't lie it stung him a bit. You seemed to enjoy that annoying fucks company more than his. Logan had been trying so hard to get back into your good graces for the past couple of days now. When he spoke to you, he made sure his tone of voice was soft. He didn't want to trigger whatever animosity you had for him.
He didn't like feeling as if he were walking on eggshells around you. But he didn't know what to do - or what he did for you to act this way. The only thing he knows is that when you got this way, he hated it. Logan had a hard time controlling his temper, and you certainly knew how to test his patience. So much so that he had to leave the apartment you two live in and spend the night at Wades place.
Today, he had enough.
Logan had been trying to put your bookshelf together today. One you picked out at ikea, and he made a comment on building you a better one that would last much longer. You were hell bent on this particular shelf that could fit right in the corner of your living room. You bugged him all week to do it. But he had been busy working, and then by the time he came home, he was exhausted.
"Baby, can ya' grab me a beer while i do this?" He spoke up as he looked over the instructions. His eyes trained on the visual image on the flimsy piece of paper. His vision straining a bit.
"No," you snapped when logan asked you to get him a beer from the fridge. "Get it yourself. I'm not your maid."
Logan sighed and took a deep breath. He didn't want to snap at you, but you made it really fucking hard not to. "Fine."
He got up, tossing the instructions down and going over to the fridge. You were standing there as his shoulder brushed yours, and his hard gaze fell on you. You shrunk down a bit and went back to sit down at the table. You didn't know why you were being an asshole. You wish you weren't this way. You always seemed to get agitated with the people who never deserved it.
"Wanna tell me what crawled up your ass?"Logan popped his beer open and took a long swig. "I'm trying not to react but it's really hard dealing with your bitchy attitude all week and I've been trying my fuckin' best to please ya."
Logan regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Your nonchalant reaction to them only pissed him off more.
You didn't respond. You only shrugged your shoulders and went back to reading your book at the table. You couldn't tell him what was wrong, because you had no idea either. He didn't do anything. You were just not in a good mood, and unfortunately, logan was taking the blunt of it. You know his feelings were probably hurt. Especially after seeing you so upbeat and happy when Wade was around.
Logan took another sip of his beer and slammed the bottle down on the table right next to you, causing you to jump a little. He leaned over the back of the chair. his lips ghosting your ear. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and you didn't need to see his face to know he's mad. You've pushed him too far. He had been patient, and you kept pushing. You kept snapping and being mouthy.
"Go in the bedroom and get undressed." His voice is low and dangerous in your ear.
"But" you tried to argue back, knowing what he wanted to do.
"Don't." His voice was soft again. "No buts I've had about enough of your fuckin' attitude. Go in the bedroom, get undressed, and I'll meet ya' in there."
You turned to look up at him from your seat. Your eyes pleaded for him to change his mind. Yet you knew you deserved it. Everything you've done and said led up to this moment.
"Now." He commanded and picked up his beer and finished it off.
You quickly rose to your feet and carefully got up, trying not to look up at him. He could be intimidating when he's angry. He'd never actually hurt you. You and logan had this agreement since you began dating. Punishments were a pretty normal thing. Logan hated giving them just and much as you hated getting them. (Well, you and him didn't hate them all the time) they did help you, and he knew that. All of the times, when you were overwhelmed with emotions and didn't know how to handle them — this was an outlet for you to let it all out. You would ask for a punishment. Logan always gave you what you wanted and pampered you when it was all done.
You went into your shared room and stripped down until you were completely naked. You sat on the edge of the bed, hanging your head. Hoping logan would take some pity on you. The room was dark, save for the sunset peaking through your curtains.
Logan sat down at the chair you were in before leaving. He tried to collect himself before joining you. He really just wanted you to talk to him. He wanted to understand you. Understand what he did wrong. Understand why you seemed so angry, but he remembered your eyes. You looked so sad and unsure of yourself. All he wanted to do was scoop you up in his arms and protect you from your feelings. He knows doing this will help clear your mind.
He sat there for a couple more minutes, letting you anticipate what was coming, but also trying to calm himself.
Finally, logan walked into the room and saw you at the edge of the bed. You looked defeated. His eyes softened slightly, but he knew he had to go through with this. If you didn't want the punishment, you would use your safeword. You've used it many times before. Since you didn't say anything and you complied to strip off your clothes. He sensed you wanted this punishment if it made you nervous.
"Look at me, baby." He walked to stand above you. His finger lifted your chin up. Your eyes met his. You made it so hard for him to stay mad at you.
You were just so sweet even if you were a fucking pain in the ass to handle. Too sweet for someone like him sometimes.
You looked up at him, his touch was gentle on your face. His hazel eyes weren't boring into yours. He seemed remorseful for what he was about to do. He knew he had to. He couldn't let you continue being so rude and disrespectful towards him. He also knew you needed this. Your body language told him everything.
Logan let go of your chin and took off his white tank top, throwing it across the room. Your eyes ran up and down his body. Your thighs squeezed together. You could feel your arousal already pooling between your legs.
He ran a hand through his hair. "How do ya' want it, hand or belt?"
You hesitated to answer at first.
"Uhmm, your hand." Your voice was quiet.
Logan smirked, noting how quickly your little attitude was already changing. "Alright, it'll be my hand, and we'll do ten spanks. Sound good?"
You nodded and bit down on your bottom lip.
"Use your words, baby." Logan got closer, invading your space. He placed his hands on either side of your hips, his grip firm, but still gentle. He could feel his cock already beginning to strain against the cold metal of his zipper.
"Sounds good." You spoke again quietly.
"Okay." He leaned down and gave the corner of your mouth a quick kiss. "Get up and lay over my lap. You remember what to say if you want this to stop. Yeah?"
"I say red." You jump down off the bed. Logan reluctantly releases your hips but moves back slightly to give you some space.
He sat down in the same spot you were sitting in. You stood there in front of him, your body bare for him. He took you all in and licked his lips. If you weren't being such a brat he'd fuck you instead. God, the things he'd do to you right now. He had to fight those urges. Those primal urges to pull you in his lap and drive his cock deep in your weeping cunt.
You wanted to apologize. You knew it was too little too late for that. No amount of apologizing would help you now. The thought of logan spanking you sent waves of arousal and fear through your body.
"Good girl." Logan praised. His deep, husky voice made your clit pulsate. He reached out, yanking you by the waist, and threw you over his lap.
You gasped as you were now laying across his thighs. His belt buckle digging into your side. Your feet dangling over the floor as you tried not to fall off him. He probably would like that, though. Seeing you fall and watching you get embarrassed.
"Lo, are you mad at me?" You turned to glance up at him over your shoulder.
His quirked an eyebrow up at you. "Mad? Don't ya' think it's a little too late to be askin' me that?" He sighed. "Yeah, I'm mad, but we'll discuss all of that later. Right now, I want ya' to count every spank I give your ass. Okay?"
You turned your head and looked down. You tried to keep your focus on a spot on the floor. It usually helped you deal with the pain and slight humiliation would feel. "Okay."
Logan rubbed his hand over the plush skin of your bottom. You heard him hum as you laid over his lap. Your ass reminded him of a ripe peach he wanted to sink his teeth into. Juicy, firm, soft all the things he liked.
"I hate doin' this. Punishing ya'. I'd much rather be balls deep inside ya' but you just had to hurt my feelings." Logan spoke from behind you. He wasn't really speaking to you rather than at you. He didn't care for your response or sorrys.
"Lo...I- I don't mean to." Your voice broke and your eyes blurred with tears.
You never thought how you were acting would actually hurt his feelings. Logan's never been good at expressing that before. Maybe your sudden mood swings were starting to really affect him. Even if it was your way of asking to be punished — or you were just not feeling like yourself and the sudden wave of sadness made you lash out.
Regardless, it wasn't fair to logan. You see that now. You always saw him as this invincible man where nothing could hurt him. Not even harsh words and the silent treatment. You were wrong. So very wrong.
"Start counting." He interrupted you. His hand, going back to connect with your ass with a harsh slap.
You whimpered, and tears fell from your eyes. "O-ne."
Logan rubbed over the spot he just spanked. You were already crying, and he's barely gotten started. He didn't give you much time to collect yourself before his hand was reconnecting in hard slap to your ass. He watches as the skin ripples from the impact. His cock growing harder watching your ass jiggle as you took your punishment. He had to bit his tongue and not make a comment on it, know how you'd you get embarrassed. Even if he'd love seeing you get that way.
"T-two." You cried out. Your tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor beneath you, creating small salty puddles.
Logan's hand reeled back again, spanking you over and over. He didn't slow down or go easy on you. Every swat felt like your ass all the way down to your thighs would go numb from the pain. You were a sobbing mess as you struggled to even count for him.
"Shh, shh baby, we're almost done." He soothed you and kissed your temple. "You're doing so good."
Your mind was in a haze now. You couldn't remember being upset. The only thing on your mind was logan and the stinging pain he was inflicting to your ass. His rough hands groping at your skin before delivering another harsh blow.
You could feel your juices running down your legs. You hoped logan wouldn't notice how turned on you also were getting. The more you cried and got it all out, the better you felt. As weird as it probably sounded to some. This made you feel at ease once it was all said and done.
Logan noticed you go silent. The only sound coming from your lips were soft cries.
"Do ya' know what number we're at now?" He rubbed down your back, avoiding your ass for now.
You shook your head. "N-no."
"We're at eight. almost done." Logan reassured, his hand slowly inching down your back and resting on the curve of your sore cheeks.
You took a few steady deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Repeating the action over and over again.
Logan observed the way you were trying to pull yourself together. He gave you a small smile before continuing on. He gave your ass a light little tap, signaling you he was about to start again. You braced yourself as your body hung over his lap. Your toes danced across the floor while you desperately tried to keep yourself perfectly balanced.
"Nine." You yelped a little louder. His hand came down again. The sounds that were made each time his palm connected to your skin sent a shiver down your spine.
"....t-ten." Your voice was raspy, barely even above a whisper as you counted the final blow.
"There we go, baby. We're done. We're all done." Logan went right back into soothing you. He looked down towards your ass watching your body trembling. "You're so strong, ya' know that? So good."
You tried to catch your breath as you choked back another sob. Your face was tear stained, and your makeup ruined.
Logan rubbed up and down the back of your thighs as well. His hand sneaking in between them. He bit his lip as he noticed how wet you got during your punishment. Your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He ran a finger along your wet slit, teasing you. Your nails dig into his strong thighs.
"Mmm, you feel so soft." He purred above you.
Your pussy was drenched with your juices. Your body was still shaking from your punishment. Your ass felt like it was on fire. Logan moved his middle finger up and down along your slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open your sensitive lips. You turned your head to watch as logan admired your sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as your walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill you up.
All that attitude, sadness, and feelings of self-doubt of yours were fading away.
"Logan, please," you begged him. Your voice, still raspy. He did a double take at your disheveled appearance. Your eyes bloodshot with your mascara running, smudging your under eyes.
Logan felt so bad for making you cry like that. He felt even worse for not taking it easy on you when he was spanking you. Even if it helped you get over whatever it was you that bothered you. But he couldn't deny how hard it made him as well.
He didn't respond as he spread your lips further apart, letting the cold air of your bedroom hit your entrance. Your face heating up while logan fully exposes you. Your clit throbbing as it goes ignored. He takes his thumb and rubs the outer part of your opening, getting it nice and ready. You moan, and logan doesn't stop looking at you.
"Ya' have the tightest little pussy." He commented, feeling how your entrance wants to take in his thumb, but he doesn't push it in. Not yet.
Instead, he pulls it away, and you whine; a small pout forming on your face. You began squirming over his lap, his erection pressing right against your stomach. You can see just how feral he wants to be become. His pupils blown completely until out, you can't see the color anymore. His nostrils flared while smelling your arousal all in the room.
"This is how it's gonna be. I'll let ya' cum on my fingers. That's all ya' get tonight. Jus' my fingers. You don't deserve my dick. " His tone was strong and commanding as he told you how the rest of the night was going to go.
That's when you knew your punishment didn't just stop once the spanking was over with.
"Will you still help me get cleaned up afterward?" You felt a little disappointed and on the verge of crying again when he rejected you. Logan usually always fucked you after your punishment. This time it was so different.
"Baby, I'm always gonna take of ya." Logan reassured. Which almost made you feel better.
He finally slipped a finger inside you. Your walls instinctively squeeze around his thick digit. You cried out in pleasure as you squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbing and pressing firmly on that spongey spot on your walls. You arched your back and dug your nails into his skin through his jeans.
"Hmmphf.... more lo— I need more." You begged.
Your head felt dizzy from all the sensations you felt. Your ass was still in so much pain but logans attention to your pussy kept your mind off it. Normally, he would tease you longer. Make you beg until you were a complete wreck. He couldn't bring himself to do that tonight. He felt guilty for spanking you the way he did. But still wasn't going to give you his cock.
Logan gently pushed another finger inside you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of you slowly. You felt his cock twitch in his jeans under you. His fingers knuckle deep in your cunt as he trusted them inside you. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to your g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Your walls clenching up and your toes curling.
"You okay, baby? Logan checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.
"Y-yes...m'okay keeping going" You stammered out, as you tried to keep focus.
He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making your pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds you've ever heard. Your slick soaking his hand as he fucked you. Your legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over your clit. You could feel your orgasm building up. That coil in your lower belly tightening as logan fingered you hard and deep.
"F-fu- logan, I can't hold it." You warned him. Your moans were getting louder and more desperate.
"Aaah! god! I'm gonna-" You mewled while your cunt was being spread open. His long, thick fingers working in and out of you.
That only spurred him on until you were cuming all over his hands. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hold onto his thighs for dear life.
Logan didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of you while his other hand payed attention to your throbbing clit. He milked your pussy as you rode out your release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick. A string of your juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.
Logan hummed at the taste of you. "You're so sweet. " You wanted to hide your face. Your eyes glossy from your orgasm.
"Come on, on your knees." He patted your ass gently. You didn't move at first. Your body was too weak, and your mind was still too cloudy think.
He noticed your hesitation and figured out why. He placed his hands on your waist and moved you gently to the floor to sit back on your knees.
"Jus' because I'm not sticking my dick in you tonight doesn't mean I can't get off, too." He grunted and unbuckled his belt.
Logan unzipped his pants and his cock sprung free almost smacking you in the face. The head of his cock leaking precum. You lick your lips and immediately try to taste him. He grabbed your jaw firm but not enough to hurt you.
"Ah ah, and what do you think you're doing?" He smirked, taking his cock in his hand.
"I thought you'd want me to use my mouth." You looked up at him, confusion written all over your face.
"Ya' don't get to blow me either. Ya' get to watch me jerk myself off and cum all over that pretty face of yours." Logan let go of your jaw and stood up straight. His form towering over yours as you kneeled in front of him.
"Oh." You wiped your eyes. You felt rejected yet again, but honestly, you understand why. You were a bitch to him for the past week. It was only fair and definitely part of the punishment.
"If you're good. I might let you ride me tomorrow mornin'." He looked down at you, giving you a small smile. You know him telling you no was just as difficult.
Logans abs flexed as his hand slowly started stroking his cock. His thumb pushing down on his tip, smearing in his precum. He let out a loud hiss and groaned. You watched from your position. You shift in your spot as you feel yourself getting wetter. Logan was taking his time. He was making a show of it – wanting you to see what you're missing. His body glistened with sweat. His mouth parted as he muttered "fuck" under his breath.
His hand moved up and down, pumping himself above you. Your eyes were in awe at how beautiful he was. You watched how his abs flexed and his Adam's apple danced. You wanted to reach out and help him. You wanted to apologize with your mouth full of his cock. He wasn't going to let you do any of that.
"Ahh, goddammit. If you weren't such a brat, I'd have ya' split open right now." He grunted again. "Make ya call me sir with my dick in the back of your throat."
"You still can." You reminded him.
He laughed. "Nice try, but no. Only good girls get my dick. Ya' haven't been good."
You frowned and kept your hands in your lap. Your juices were dripping down your legs and little to the floor. You've never been more frustrated and turned on in your life. You watched logan stroking himself. His eyes half lidded, and his muscles flexed with every movement. His pace quickened and you could tell he was about to cum. He cupped his balls with his other hand, making his knees buckle slighlty. Your clit ached at the sight before you.
"Goddamn," he whispered to himself while his hand moved at a faster pace. "See what ya' do to me? How hard ya' make me?"
You watched in awe as your pussy ached more for him. You were on the verge of pouting but remembered what he told you. "Ya can ride me in the mornin" his words echoed in your ear. That promise was enough to keep you at bay and kneeling down before him like a good girl. His good girl. That's what you wanted to be again.
His chest was rising and falling faster. Logan gave himself a few more long strokes, and he was finishing all over your face. He growled harshly and ropes of cum shot out onto your mouth and chin. He was careful not to get any in your eyes or hair. Logan kept pumping himself, milking every single drop he had left in him. You went to move away, but the hand that was on his balls grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer. Your face just millimeters away from his cock and heavy balls. His hand finally stilled.
All you could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. You waited until he came down from his high. His release had hit him hard, too, just as yours did. Logan had been pent up with so much frustration over these past couple of weeks because of you. You felt his hand letting go of your neck. You went to rub the sore spot where his fingers dug into your skin. He didn't speak to you yet. He was still trying to catch his breath after his release.
Logan dragged his hand down his face and looked you over once more. He gently took you by the upper arms and put you on your feet. Your legs felt wobbly, and the stinging pain on your ass returned. Logans eyes trailed up and down your body, focusing on your face.
You were a mess, cheeks all tear stained. Your makeup smudged and now his cum dripping down your chin. You were a beautiful sight. One logan wanted to admire forever. If he had his phone; he'd make this moment his lockscreen and jerk off to it when you weren't around.
Your tongue inched out to lick some of the cum off your lips. You loved the way he tasted and hated how he wouldn't let you have more. Logan felt his cock twitching again but chose to ignore it. He let out a shuddered breath and shook his head.
"Ya' alright? Was that too much?" He bent down, grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor. Logan carefully wipe off the mess on your face, starting with his cum.
"Not too much." You shook your head. "I'm fine." You tried to fix up your makeup, but it was really no use.
He leaned down and gave your forehead a sweet kiss.
"We need to get some aloe on your ass. It'll help sooth that burning feelin" Logan moved around the room as you stood in your spot. You wrapped your arms around your middle while you watched him hunt for the aloe and put his jeans back on.
Logan noticed how you were hugging around yourself. He cursed under his breath, fixing himself back in his pants. There was something still lingering in the air. He couldn't put his finger on it.
"C'mere baby." He took your arms from around you and pulled you to him in a warm embrace. You buried your face in his chest, taking in his scent. Logan could sense how you needed his comfort more than some lotion right now.
You two stood in eachothers arms for what felt like hours. He finally spoke up, breaking the silence.
"If ya' don't wanna talk about what's been bothering ya' I want pressure. Jus' know I'm all ears once you're ever ready to tell me"
You nodded and closed your eyes, not wanting him to let you go.
"Sometimes I don't know what's wrong." You whispered to him.
"And that's okay." He kissed the top of your head. "Let's take a bath together, and I'll cook ya' dinner."
"Are you gonna finish my bookshelf?" You moved your head away to meet his gentle gaze.
Logan chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. "Yeah, yeah, I'll finish that damn bookshelf."
The rest of your night was spent with you in logans arms after he helped get you all cleaned up. He got our your favorite sweatshirt and made you food. You sat on the couch watching him get frustrated with the instructions to your bookshelf that he had to remind you he could've just made you a better one. Logan did end up finishing it for you and joined you on the couch, pulling you into his lap where you both ended up falling asleep.
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𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲
Trucker!Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: 18+, daddy kink, pet names, breeding, unprotected sex, blowjobs, public sex, fucking while driving?? Little bit of fluff at the end xoxo
A very fun roadtrip with Joel
w/c: 3.3k
⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*
"What did I tell you about sticking those legs up on my damn dash," Joel mumbles.
You shoot him a playful scowl, wiggling your feet tauntingly. His eyebrows furrow in irritation, his eyes stealing annoyed glances as you disobeyed his orders. "I'm serious bug, it's not safe."
You pout, slinking your legs back down to the ground of his semi-truck. "M'sorry," you whisper.
A cigarette hangs loosely from his lips as the summer breeze makes its way inside. You hated the scent of those lousy sticks but he always made sure to let the fresh air in just for you.
You smile lazily as he switches gears, a soft grunt escaping his lips. He mumbles something under his breath, cursing at the Audi who attempted to cut him off.
But you hardly register the situation, eyes glued on the way his tank top hangs low revealing black ink tattoos and a tuft of chest hair. His arms were bursting from the sleeves of his flannel, every muscle dripping with definition.
Joel smirks to himself, rubbing his unruly beard as he glances at your distant expression. He knows exactly what you're doing. That glossy look in your eyes, the way your hands are wedged between your thighs. He knows precisely when his girl needs him, and right now you're practically pleading. He could see your brain churning, undoubtedly thinking of him.
"Wettin' my beard so pretty, baby. You see that? See what you've done to me?" He pulled back from your thighs, his beard stained and wet. You moaned his name, thrashing against his grip as he gazed pridefully at your soaking cunt. "C'mon, pretty baby. Let go for me, squirt all over daddy's face. He suckled your clit, balls heavy and thighs grinding against the sheets as he fought back the urge to cum. "Taste so pretty, baby. Fuck, gettin' me all messy. See how much I'm leaking? That's it, open those pretty eyes and look at what you’ve done."
"Been staring at me awfully long, ain't ya?" Joel grins.
You suck in a breath, quickly turning and facing the window. "M'not," you mutter.
"Ah ah, don't get all shy." He puts out his cigarette and you can hear the amusement in his tone as he reaches for your hand, breaking it from its position between your thighs.
You're too embarrassed to speak, afraid he'd tease you for getting turned on by something as mundane as watching him drive. Quickly, you cross your legs, "It's nothin'" you murmur.
"Nothin'?" He questions.
Joel raises an eyebrow, his right hand sinking towards the waistline of your denim shorts. They hugged your hips perfectly, a soft blue hue that left your asscheeks hanging free. He loved when you sat perched on his lap with them on, nuzzling into his neck as he palmed your ass.
You don't object as he leisurely pulls down your zipper, his hand sneaking down your groin. Instinctively you wrap your arms around his, grinding into his palm slowly. "Joel...you're driving."
He traces his thumb across your slit, groaning softly when he feels your wetness against your thighs. His eyes face the road, your sweet sounds are the only indication he has of what's going on beside him.
Your eyes flutter closed as he slips a finger inside of you, rubbing against your folds until you shiver. "You feeling needy, baby?" He coos. "Want my fingers stuffed in that pretty cunt? Cmon, baby, it's alright. You don't think I know how badly you wanna get fucked sitting all cute in that passenger seat? Always begging me to tag along just to sit there and hold your legs all tight together. Gawking at me and looking away as if I can't tell how desperate you are."
"P- pull over, Joel," you whine.
He scoffs before pressing hard against your clit. You shout, nails digging into his skin.
He remains stoic, a sick grin on his face as you refuse to let go of his arm. "Did I hurt you? Is your button all swollen and hard now? Daddy’ll kiss it better for you, pretty baby."
You nod against his arm, staring up at him with wide eyes. "Hurts, daddy."
He doesn't want to let up. You look so pretty grinding against his hand, your nipples hard against the Shania Twain shirt you cut up and hemmed. Your soft moans turn into full-out pleads as he strokes your clit. Coddling her until your eyes meet the back of your head.
You can hardly sit still, selfishly needing him to pull off the road so you can have him entirely. "P-pullover Joel. Please."
He knows neither of you will be satisfied until he's balls deep inside of you, so he does what he has to.
"Shh, I know, baby. But I've gotta work." Tears nearly fall down your cheeks as he takes his hand back. You pulsate against nothing, whining from the loss of his touch.
"That's not fair!" You shout.
He replies calmly. "Yea? You know what's not fair, Princess? Gettin’ me all worked up when I'm supposed to be focused on crossing state lines. Now sit back until we reach Tennessee."
Your jaw drops at his words, taking it personally. "Fine," you huff.
•••
One hour. It had been one hour of complete silence and you were going insane. Joel had lit another cigarette, the smoke dancing its way out the cracked window.
You were sulking. Angry that he had teased you and left you high and frustrated. A word hasn't escaped your lips in miles and while Joel still stole glances your way, your eyes were glued to the window.
"White..." you mumbled, counting the 25th milky white cow you saw grazing the fields. It was the quickest way to pass time since being entertained by Joel was clearly off the table.
He perks up upon hearing your voice, wishfully thinking your grudge was finally over. He hadn't intended on leaving you hanging, but the moment he felt your walls clench around his fingers he knew he had to stop. If it was up to him, he would've pulled off on the side of the highway and pulled you right onto his lap. Slide down those useless shorts and sit your pretty self on his cock. He could spend hours watching you drip down his length, your teeth sinking into his shoulder as he thrusts into you…
But he has a deadline. A small window of time to get this cargo to its destination.
You stare at the next set of cows, adding up to 28 white ones, and...shit. "A brown cow!" You squeal. "And it's fluffy! Joel, look at that. I've never seen a–"
You're cut off by the sound of heavy laughter. There's a lopsided grin on his face as he listens to your excited tone. He smirks, "It's very cute, bug."
"That was an accident," you grumble. "M'still not speaking to you."
"Yea? And how's that workin' out for ya?"
"I just thought the cow was cute goddamnit, Miller." You sink into the seat, staring daggers into the side of his head. "You're so annoying," you mumble.
"Speak up, baby. Couldn't quite catch that."
"I said, you're annoying."
He remains silent, licking his lips and gripping the wheel a bit harder. You eye him closely, your gaze traveling down to the tent forming in his pants. The corner of your lips up turns into a slight smile as he palms his erection, shifting his jeans around uncomfortably. "Damn it," he murmurs.
"Joel," you call out.
"Yes?" His tone is pained, voice airy with the need to bury himself deep inside of you. Fuck, just hearing you say his name made his length twitch against his thigh. No matter how upset you were, you still said his name with all the adoration in the world.
"I really gotta pee. It's been hours."
You watch as he checks his dashboard for the time, eyes widening after realizing just how long the two of you had been driving in utter silence. He shoots you an apologetic look, "Alright, bug. But you gotta be quick."
Joel drives until the next rest stop approaches, pulling into the parking lot that oversaw a grassy park area. A few cars scattered the lot, but otherwise, it was nearly deserted. You don't say anything as you hop down, slamming the door before he can get a word in.
Nobody ever slams his doors.
Hastily he unbuckles his seatbelt, opens the door, and takes long strides to your side of the truck. "You're still mad?" he huffs. He catches your arm before you can walk away, grabbing your hand and practically slamming you against his chest.
His eyes narrow as he stares down at you, daring you to rebuttal. But you're still forcing him into the silent treatment, lips shut tight as he waits for you to speak.
"Still not speaking to me, pretty baby?" He cocks his head, lips reaching dangerously close to yours. You shrug your shoulders, carelessly turning away from him.
A fresh wave of anger washes over him and suddenly crossing state lines was the last thing on his mind.
"Y'know what you do to me?" He grabs your hand, placing it on top of his growing erection. "M'so full sweetheart and it's all your goddamn fault. Fuck, you feel that? Practically dripping for you, Princess." He looms over you, watching the way your lips form into a desperate pout.
"But you were only worried about yourself. So inconsiderate," he hums. You whine as he lifts your chin, kissing your forehead softly despite the frustration gleaming in his eyes.
"M'sorry daddy. I just...I needed you."
"And you don't think I need you too? Couldn't stop thinking about burying myself between those legs. I Need you so badly, baby."
"I'm sorry," you whimper.
"Shh, no more sorry's. You know how to apologize correctly."
You nod, sinking to your knees without further questioning. He allows you to do all the work, unzipping his denim jeans until his thick length bobs free. He grasps his throbbing size and spits on it, meshing it with the precum dripping from his pulsating head. "Make it up to me," he states calmly, towering over your form.
He takes his length, slapping you across the face roughly. His cum stains your skin and mercilessly he repeats the action until he's practically pulsating with need. He's leaking viciously, drooling across your cheeks. "Two taps against my leg if you can't take it," Joel mumbles. "Otherwise, M'gonna fill that pretty mouth until my seeds drippin’ down it."
He palms the back of your head, pushing you down against his length until you gag. He adores the way you tried your hardest to make him fit, drool and precum coating your chin as you whimper against him. You even open your mouth wider to suck his balls, whining when you realize you couldn't fit both.
He laughs at your poor attempt to wrap your lips around them before finally putting you out of your "misery." He smirks, "Let me help you, sweetheart." You groan as he stuffs his balls into your mouth, sputtering out a small "thank you."
"Look at my pretty baby," he grunts. Joel grabs your cheek, squeezing it tightly. "Fuck. You like sucking daddy's fat cock, don't you? Just asking for someone to walk by and catch you suckin' me off. Bet that's what you want, isn't it, baby? You want to get caught? Show everyone how much of a fucking cockslut you are for me."
Joel throws his head back, leaning against the warm exterior of his truck. Your mouth feels so good around him, enrapturing him in a blissful warmth that only you could provide him. Words escaped his mind as you went deeper, uncaring of how messy you were being.
"B-baby," he shudders. "Just like that. M'not gonna last. You gotta stop. Fuck."
You take that as a sign to go slower and deeper, pausing for a few seconds before continuing your descent. You loved when Joel’s eyes rolled backwards, his hand desperately pushing you as far as you could go. He was always vocal, cursing and grunting all while murmuring your name in between. It didn’t matter that he was standing outside at the peak of sunset. He was gonna let everyone know exactly how you made him feel.
"I didn't tell you to slow down," he groans.
Before you can make out an apology, Joel slams your face against the base of his cock. He thrusts into you, fucking your face and unleashing all the pent-up frustration in his system. "Gonna let me fuck my seed down that tight throat? I'll make it all nice and pretty for you, baby. Fuck, M'cumming baby. S’all for you.”
Ropes of cum spurt into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You whine as he pulsates against your tongue, his teeth grinding together as he fights the urge to shout. So full for you, baby. Hurts. “Take daddy's load. Make me feel better, sweetheart."
You drink him down until he's spent, smiling happily as he slips his cock from your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, sucking him clean.
He carefully tucks himself back into his jeans, paying little attention to how it was dripping on his front. "Beautiful, sweetheart. That was perfect."
He crouches down, swiping his thumb across your lip before kissing you gently. "Now let's get you all cleaned up. Just wait right here for me.”
You watch as he jogs into the building to ask for the restroom key. When he returns you’re in a blissful daze, smiling happily as he places another sweet kiss to your lips. He takes your hand, helping you up and leading you towards the bathroom. You nuzzle into his side, fearful that people would see you in such a vulnerable state.
"Look who's all shy, now." Joel laughs. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in close until the two of you make it to the bathroom. He locks the door behind him, taking you towards the sink and wetting a paper towel.
"Will you get in trouble?" Your voice is hushed, the repercussions of your teasing coming into full perspective.
"Been working for them nearly half my life," he shrugs. "A little tardiness won't cost me the job."
You nod, still feeling the need to apologize. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, bug. I know how you get when you're all worked up."
You break out into a smile, "And how do I get?"
Joel scrunches his eyebrows, his eyes glimmering with warmth. "Mean."
"I'm not mean!" You giggle, playfully punching his side. He swats your hand away, bringing the warm paper towel to your face. He wipes you clean, placing one last kiss on your lips before throwing it away.
"Oh, you're very mean. Hurts my heart sometimes." His voice drops low and quickly you recognize the dark gleam in his eyes.
"Can you believe how mean you are to me, baby? Don't know what I've done to deserve it."
"Joel..."
"Yes?" He hums, closing his eyes briefly before making his move. He flips you around, pushing you against the counter and forcing you to stare into the mirror.
"Hate when you're mad at me, baby. But you know what I hate more? When you shut me out. You get all mean and suddenly I'm scrambling to make you feel better."
"M'sorry, daddy. I don't mean to make you feel that way." You stare into your reflection, meeting his heated gaze.
"Thought you were smart, didn't you, baby? I have to pee." He mocks your remark. "Knew what you were planning before you even said it," he scoffs. "But I'll still give my pretty baby whatever you want."
He unzips his denim once again, his length springing free. It looks heavier this time, veins inching their way up to the tuft of hair at his shaft. "Come on. Take it."
Your shorts slide to your ankles as he guides himself to your entrance. "Look at that..." he murmurs. "You're leaking' baby. Made a mess all over yourself. No wonder you were so whiny, been gushing the whole ride."
The moment his glaring tip breaches your entrance, you're a mess. Whining and begging him for more.
"Tell me how much you love my cock."
"I love your cock, daddy. Love how thick you are, fuck." You repeat the simple sentence until he's fully inside of you. He's so huge, spreading you wide until you have no choice but to bite your bottom lip to hold back your moans.
His hand rests on your hips while the other reaches around your front and slides beneath your shirt. He grips your tits, "You feel so good, baby. You feel me inside of you? Can hardly move, grippin' me so hard."
His hips slam against your ass. "Look at me. Fucking look at me." Joel lifts your head, forcing you to stare into the mirror as you feel yourself begin to unravel. You knew you wouldn't last long, not with how he's murmuring into your ear about how he wants to take you apart and paint every inch of your skin with his seed. His beautiful baby.
You squeal as he slaps your ass and rubs it gently to mend the pain. The sting lingers as his fingers make their way to where you’re conjoined. He groans as he feels your wetness, drawing it down your thighs and back up towards your now parted lips. “Good girl, already knew what to do,” he coos.
Joel can’t get enough of you. His free hand makes its way around your entire body. Down your throat, caressing your breasts as they fought to be released from your top, guiding your hips as you bounced against him. You were entirely his.
"Gonna fill you with my cum, pretty baby. So next time you get all stupid and desperate you can just spread those legs in the seat and fuck yourself with it. "Rub your clit for me, baby. You're almost there. I can feel it."
His heavy balls slap against your ass and if you had a camera, you’d see just how much Joel was leaking for you. Pre-cum coated his base, so much that he couldn’t tell the difference between yours and his. It dripped down the tuft of hair around his base and down his thighs. “Driving me crazy, sweetheart,” he moans.
Tilting your head back, he slams his mouth against yours.
And you lose it.
You gasp as your high hits, thrashing against his hold as his base becomes coated in your spend. "That's it, baby. I've got you. I've always got you.” He fucks you through his orgasm, groaning your name as he fills you up as promised.
He groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating your body and sending another wave of pleasure through you. You shake against his hold, mumbling his name repeatedly until you finally feel him pull out.
“C’mere.” His soothing voice vibrates against your ears. He scoops you up, prepared to clean you once again. You hardly recalled the rest, in and out of sleep as he washed the both of you. Joel carried you back to the truck, legs swinging around his waist while he rubbed your back. You remembered waking up briefly as he buckled you in. He kissed your forehead softly before making his way to the driver's seat to which he leaned over for one last kiss.
You were addictive and the absolute love of his life.
He smiles happily as he continues his drive, the pastures of cows greeting you two once again. Your tiny snores fill the air, so quiet that he refuses to put on music just to hear them. Joel’s eyes wander to the open field, crinkling with joy as he spots another brown cow.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal#trucker!joel#joel x you#Joel miller fan club#the roads long but his dicks longer
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Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.
Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:
She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.
She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.
Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.
She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.
She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.
She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.
We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)
She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)
She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.
She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.
I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.
anyway shout out to my mom for being neat
Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale#gale of waterdeep#astarion#gale dekarios#laq talks#I talk#she stares at me real hard after she makes a choice too#like squinting to see if my expression gives anything away#if it was a good or bad call#I keep my face blank as shit it’s hilarious#I have not told her I’m writing fanfic for this game#nor will I ever#jesus christ
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intermission || joel miller x f!reader
shout out to @dinandwhiskey for feeding into my delusions for this one and to @skrunkly-scrimblo for the beta <33
pairing: daddy dom!joel miller x f!reader summary: movie night with joel doesn’t go to plan, or joel fucks your mouth while you’re sleeping. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rating: 18+ MDNI warnings: [No Outbreak], established relationship, age gap [reader is 24, joel is late 50’s] , dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, somnophilia [no explicit consent in this fic but she’s cool with it, therefore dubcon], oral [m receiving], face fucking, deepthroating, finger sucking, praise kink, pet names [little bug, little angel, baby, the works lol], references to tummy bulge, references to unprotected p in v sex, mentions of creampies, cum eating, reader can be carried [tho in my mind joel is huuuuuge so size kink as well], Joel’s POV. word count: 2.3k a/n: happy father’s day (iykyk) :3
series masterlist | masterlist | ao3 | playlist
dividers by @saradika-graphics
He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t.
I don’t fall asleep during movies, daddy, you had sassed him.
Whatever you say, little bug.
That was an hour ago and now you’re resting your pretty little head against his belly, your hand tucked beneath your head. You look so peaceful. So pretty. So soft. So – pliant.
He really shouldn’t.
But then your hand slips from under your head and falls to rest a hair's breadth away from his clothed cock, it jumps in his sweats. You’ve practically pavloved him to react like that with just a mere graze of your fingertips.
“You got no idea what you do to me, sweet girl, drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy over here,” his voice a low rasp, reaching for your fingers and gently pulling them from his lap, squeezing your fingertips twice before resting them atop his thigh.
You’re completely limp, deep in your sleep and Joel is unable to control himself.
He snatches up the remote, hastily turns down the TV, shoves his gray sweats down to the middle of his thighs and frees his semi-hard cock. He wraps a hand around the base, gives it a firm tug, and rests the tip of his length on your lips.
He stills and swallows hard. He shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this, it feels selfish to take what he’s been desperately wanting from you — for the better part of an hour — when you’re unable to respond. He should wake you.
But then, almost as if you’ve made the decision for him; your lips part and a soft moan releases from you, mmm, daddy. His cock twitches against your lips, opaque droplets already gathering at the slit. Your lips stay parted and the glistening tip slips between your plush lips.
“Fuck– ” He groans at the sensation, eyes rolling back into his head, hand flying up to the back of yours, cradling your skull in an attempt to anchor himself as he slowly rolls his hips up into you. He stiffens fully at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him. It feels fucking incredible.
How the hell did he get here? A rare lazy sunday night with you on his lap, taking a man almost three times your age in between your lips, letting him use you in your sleep.
He remembers first laying eyes on you. You showed up on his porch one night, not too long ago, with sparkling eyes and a shy smile on your face. He didn’t even hear what you had said to him, too distracted by the soft skin of your exposed thighs just below the hem of your pale pink dress — barely covering the plump shape of your ass — and the flow of your hair as a wave of muggy summer heat swept past. He thinks it was something about the leftover cake from your birthday. He only guessed that from the sad, fat square slice of funfetti birthday cake held up in a flimsy paper plate before him, the letters jaggedly cut down the middle of the celebratory phrase.
Joel is a strong man; at least that’s what he tells himself. He knew you were too young for him. The split letters that barely spelled out twenty-four on your birthday cake told him as much. Trouble, he’d muttered. He still mumbles that occasionally when you push his buttons, though hours later, he often finds himself burying his length deep inside of you, tears pricking your eyes while he stretches your needy cunt.
But then you glanced up at him with wide, curious eyes and flashed him a big, toothy smile — the prettiest little thing he’s seen in all his long, hard years — and he cracked; his cement walls came crumbling down. He brought you inside his home, into his too-small bed, and fucked you until you cried, until you asked him for a break only to climb on top of him minutes later, begging him to feed you his cock again.
His cock pulses on your tongue at the memory, your voice high-pitched as you cried, Daddy, please, I want it. And Joel couldn’t resist his special girl. How could he? When you softly gasped into his mouth as he pushed the blunt head of his cock past your puffy folds — nuzzling in and making a home for himself — where he belongs. Your warm, drooling cunt sucking him in to the hilt, sheathing the entirety of his hard length inside your messy little pussy.
Joel is a strong man, but not when it comes to you.
Please, please, I need to feel it inside me. All the way up here, daddy, you whined, one hand gliding up your belly, the other fisting the fabric of your lace-trimmed dress. He just couldn’t resist you. So he fucked you and fucked you deep, until he was in the soft pouch of your tummy and poking through from the other side, just as you had asked of him. He fucked you full of his spend, until your poor, tiny hole couldn’t take any more of his cum.
He’d damn himself to hell before he’d refuse you. He only hopes you don’t deny him if you wake.
His deft, roughened fingers brush the hair out of your face before settling his hand back on your head. He sits up and leans over; marveling at the stretch of your lips around him, sweat beginning to pool at the nape of his neck and the corners of his temples.
He feels filthy. A dirty old man. He’s never taken you like this before. But it doesn’t feel wrong. He’s only missing those pretty sounds you make —
You stir and let out a soft moan around him. Sweet Jesus, there you go. Your head dips lower down his belly, nestling more of his length into your hot mouth. Atta fuckin’ girl. Let me in, baby. Open up real big for daddy.
“Such a naughty little thing, lettin’ me fuck your throat while you’re sleepin’, just needed to be full o’me huh?” He whispers softly, and at that, you hum. Joel can’t help when he bucks up into your mouth in response, saliva pouring past your lips and onto his graying pubic hair.
“Fuck, baby, you like gettin’ daddy all messy? Like chokin’ on daddy’s big cock?” He taunts, a grin tugging on his face.
Once again, as if you can hear him, you hum.
You’re so damn responsive. Or maybe you just like having his dick in your mouth.
“Fuck, yeah, you do,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. His free hand glides down to the swell of your ass — the softest skin he thinks he’s ever felt — and hikes up the frilly hem of those pink sleep shorts that he likes a little too much — the ones speckled with tiny red hearts — over one cheek, grabs a handful of your plush flesh, and squeezes. You moan, and Joel feels your tongue twitch, feather-like, beneath the heavy weight of his cock, then pressing up against the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft. He bites down on his lip to muffle the loud moan that sneaks past his lips, the back of his head hitting the couch behind him.
“Goddamnit, takin’ me so damn well, even in your sleep, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he babbles, his eyes shut tight as he revels in the feeling of himself in your mouth, the action movie silently playing on the screen flashes against his eyelids, measured shaky breaths escaping him. The strong hand on your head easing you lower and lower to take more of him, your lips now grazing the drool drenched hair at his base.
Your mouth feels like velvet around him — warm and soft and so perfect that his hips cant upwards unconsciously, the pace of his thrusts increasing. He’s losing himself in the haze of his fast-approaching release, a deep-seated tension building in his gut, teetering on the edge until—
You splutter around him and Joel’s head snaps up to peer down at you, your eyelids flutter open against the soft glow of the television.
“Shit, baby. ‘M sorry,” he rasps and quickly retracts his hand from your head. Yet, you don’t pull yourself off him, instead you curl your weak fingers into his thigh. You don’t want him to stop.
“You want me to keep going?” He asks gruffly, he knows you can take him, you’ve done it countless times since you have met. He’s trained you well. Yet, he needs to be certain he’s not reaching your limit.
You drag your lips off his cock, an obscene wet slurping sound fills the too still air, letting off him with a pop and maneuvering yourself to sit up on your knees. “Yes, please daddy,” your voice still thick with sleep, peering up at him with an innocence to your needy gaze; a mixture of drool and precum coating your pouty lips.
“Christ,” he mutters, under his breath. Such a pretty fuckin’ sight. One he reckons he’ll never get tired of seeing. He can’t deny you. Not when you look at him like that.
“Okay, baby, here,” he murmurs, his hand retakes its place on the back of your head, guiding you toward his aching cock, your lips latch onto the fat head — all angry and red — and he inhales a shuddery breath as he watches your face contort at the stretch of him in your mouth.
Your tongue flattens underneath him and he presses himself deeper into your willing mouth, filling you up and messaging the walls of your throat with the wide head of his cock.
His grip in your hair tightens and a low groan rumbles in his throat, “There you go, baby, hold still.”
Fucking hell. He could keep you here forever.
“So goddamn pretty like this, baby,” Joel grits, “Love havin’ your mouth stuffed full o’ my cock, huh?”
You make a low muffled sound around the length of his cock.
“S’right, you do,” he answers for you.
His free hand trails down the length of your body, instinctively gripping the meat of your ass, dull fingernails digging into your skin, just barely grazing your puckered hole. You whine around him, the vibrations from your throat has him flexing his fingers your hair in response, and with shallow, quick thrusts of his hips, he fucks himself into your mouth.
Fresh tears begin to sprout in your eyes as you gulp hard, your throat constricting around him. Joel feels his throbbing tip choked tight at the small opening at the back of your throat. The warm walls of your throat so tight — so good for him — the muscles in his belly tighten, and the hand on your ass is quick to join the other on your head, gripping your skull. “Shit— that’s it, angel. M’comin’.” His dick pulsates on your tongue, and a loud, guttural groan spills from him as hot, thick spurts of his cum coat your throat. His hand holds you there, firmly pressing your mouth flush to his spit-smeared balls. He feels you swallow around him again, and he whines quietly. The muscles in his jaw go slack, and his head falls back onto the couch while he lazily thrusts upwards, his leaking head bruising the back of your throat as he empties the last of himself into your mouth and filling your belly, his chest heaving from exertion.
He lifts his head when he feels you pull off him; you cough softly against him, the warmth of your breath brushes against his now softening cock, and his hooded gaze meets the sight of a thin string of saliva and cum dribbling from your wet, puffy lips, tears dripping from the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks. “Oh, c’mere, little bug, lemme see.”
Just as he taught you, you plant a small, wet kiss on each of his heavy balls. Joel sighs through his nostrils. Fuck. What did he do to deserve you? You’re too good for him. You scoot over to sit up in his lap. Joel feels the slick between your legs through your tiny shorts when you press against his soft cock. He lets out a little groan; if he hadn’t just come, he’d be getting hard at the sensation.
His hand reaches to grip your jaw, angling your face up as you present him with your open mouth, the corners of his lips twitch at the sight of the walls of your little throat; empty, swollen, and used.
“My filthy girl, you did so good f’me,” he cooes, coaxing away your tears and swiping your glistening lips clean. He pushes the pad of his thumb — covered in slobber and cum — into your mouth and presses it onto your tongue. Your wet eyes lock with his as you enthusiastically suck his thumb clean.
Man alive. Maybe you’ll damn him to hell.
You release his thumb and giggle, biting your lip and smiling up at him dreamily. “Thank you, daddy, I liked it,” you rasp quietly.
“Yeah?” He breathes, both of his hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking your wet cheeks.
Your wide, glassy eyes meet his gaze, “I like when you do things that make you feel good, it makes me feel good,” your voice hoarse and small, fingers toying with the collar of his t-shirt.
“Well – you always make daddy feel good, little angel,” he praises, leaning forward to lay a long kiss to your forehead that elicits a breathy sigh from you, your eyelids fluttering closed.
“You tired, baby?” He whispers, tucking your soft hair behind your ear, fingers stroking down your hair and twirling the end of the gathered strands between his fingers.
You yawn quietly and give him a slow, small nod, a sleepy smile to your face as you sink down in his lap, your weeping cunt throbbing against him. He’ll play with your perfect little pussy in the morning. Maybe your other little hole too.
He chuckles at that. “Alright, little bug...” he starts, tucking his soft cock back into his sweats. He scoops you up into his arms; his weak, achy knees pop, and a low grunt spills from him as he stands, “Bedtime.”
#*screeches and hides*#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#daddy!joel#tw daddy kink#tw dubcon#tw somnophilia#wazoo!!!#noelle's workshop
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Commission for @madamsnape921
Request: You have period sex for the first time with your monster bf.
Reminder that I offer commissions here!
Monster bf whimpers helplessly, the smell of your pheromones even more potent now that you’re on your period. Your smell and his aching cock, dripping with pre-cum, is sure to make him go insane the longer you keep yourself from him.
He presses his face into your neck, surrounding himself with your scent and marking you with his as he kisses along your warm smooth skin. Hoping to slowly lull you into acceptance, distract you from your uncertainty about letting him fuck your sweet drooling pussy while on your period for the first time.
“Please, my heart, I can smell how much you need me,” he growls against your skin, licking and nipping at your throat. Attempting to control himself as more of your addictive scent flows into his senses.
His claws slowly rake down your body, feeling the soft curves and contours of your form that he treasures so deeply. Stopping once they reach your thighs and spreading them for his broad build. His actions filling your mind with a haze of lust as he starts to grind his thick cock into exposed panties.
“But-but… fuck!” You exclaim, hands wrapping around his neck as you begin to rock with his movements. Seeking more, seeking relief. Monster bf snarls, rolling his hips harder into you as he sees your resistance weakening.
“Let me take care of my mate. Don’t deny me such privileges. Allow me to smooth your aches and cherish you as you deserve,” Monster bf rumbles, hands caressing you tenderly as his girth has your pussy pooling with arousal.
The last of your resolve snaps when Monster bf loving massages right where your cramps have been bugging you all day before dipping down and rubbing circles into your clit. You gasp as your hips jolt from the sensation.
“Need you,” you beg, forehead against his, and still meeting his every movement. Monster bf grunts, loving the way you sound when you’re so desperate for him as moans spill from your lips.
The pressure on your puffy clit deepens. A dark look passing over your bfs face, craving to see you fall apart for him so damn easily. You let the pleasure consume you, crying out, and rutting into your bfs body until the cord breaks. Your orgasm washing over you and drowning you in ecstasy.
Though you can feel the pain of your cramps lessen, it’s not enough. Not now that you know how much it’ll help; how good it feels when on your period.
“Want more,” you whimper through heavy breaths, all second-guessing having long since gone out the window. Monster bf chuckles and helps you get his clothes off before helping you with your own.
With your body all prepped he slides inside your hot wet cunt with ease. Sighing in relief as groans of satisfaction rip from your lips.
“I know, I know. That’s it, take my cock. Maybe a bruised cervix will distract you from the cramps…” Monster bf teases as he plunges inside your dripping and needy pussy. Despite his words, he attempts to go easy on your sore body.
But you squeeze tightly around his steady rhythm, sucking his cock back in with each thrust. Monster bf growls, seeing just how badly you need him. Without a word he picks up pace, pounding his length roughly inside you. Never letting up for a second, giving you everything he has.
His arms wrap around you, keeping you in place as he fucks his length into you. The melodic squelch of your hips meeting makes him feral, salivating at the thought of you coating his cock your release.
He doesn’t stop until he’s done just that, even as your body trembles, your climax bursting out of you. He works you through it, joining you a moment later and filling you with his seed.
Keeping you wrapped up in his embrace, he shifts you both onto your sides. He proceeds to pepper your face in soft kisses and massage any remaining aches out of your spent form. Wanting to make this monthly experience as bearable as possible for his mate.
#monster fucker#terato#monster fuqqer#monster#monster lust#monster romance#monster fudger#monster fluff#monster fic#monster imagine#monster boy#monster bf#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x y/n#monster x you#monster x female#monster x girl#monster x fem!reader#reader x monster#human x monster#x reader#x fem!reader#monsters#monster boi#monster man#monster character#monster enby
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This was not in Dick's plans today. Seriously, it was his one day off and all he wanted to do was bug the shit out of Jay and relax in the comfort of his own home before heading to the manor and practically beg for Alf's good food.
All Dick got was being kidnapped with another person and Riddler's goons. No blindfolds, hands cuffed and tied with a rope. Wow, they really didn't want them to escape today. It's time to just wait for his brothers... maybe B, too.
"So, is Fashion Disaster #3 gonna do something with us, or are we just sitting here to look like two pretty birds?" Dick didn't recognize the voice, but he did snort.
"Quiet." One of the goons demanded as he hit the other guy in the face with the gun.
"You know, you told me to talk once, and now you're telling me to shut up? How does that work? Cause I can totally make an echo." Oh god, this civilian is taunting the goons. Sir, we are still tied, and they can kill us.
Is he... he is! He's humming, Baby Shark! OK Dick, don't laugh. Don't laugh. Hold it in. You can do it. Fuck. No, he can't. Dick took a deep breath as he attempted to regulate his breathing to not laugh at all. Cause, oh my god, this guy is making him want to laugh!
"So... how's it going? Besides being tied up like a domninatrix waiting for us to loosen up." Dick looked at the other guy. He was cute and fucking hilarious. Warm ice blue eyes and shaggy crow black hair.
"Oh, you know hanging out. Trying not to die from laughter. Could be worse." Dick grinned.
"See! That's what I'm saying...! People need to loosen up around here. How do you feel like breaking out?" The smirk on the other man's face screamed menace.
This is the type of person who Dick watches out for while being a cop. The other guy gave him a look. He had said that aloud. Whelp. Too late now.
"Bro. My record is clean-ish. But like sometimes my family is all kind of crazies. Mad scientists types. Genetics, y'know?" Dick still didn't know this man's name.
Dick cackled, "You're a scientist?"
The other man smiled widely, "Engineer for WE actually." Dick noticed the man's hands were free now. The cuffs and rope weren't cut, but he somehow got out anyway.
"Oh, really? How long have you been working at WE?"
"Hey! I said, be quiet! Now, shut up and stop talking!"
The smaller man huffed, proceeded to grab the goon by the gun, flip him forward, and then kicked him in the face, knocking him out.
Dick blinked, "How..? Wha-"
"Like I asked, do you wanna break out? I'll forgive you for being a cop and a date?"
Yeah... "You know what, why not?"
#dc x dp#dick grayson#danny fenton#danny is not the ghost king#dick grayson x danny fenton#danny is vibing being kidnapped#like this dude is literally just rolling with it lol#dick is having a wtf moment#they 100% went on that date#dick's brothers are confused on where they're at
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neighbor!sukuna x singlemom!reader. Sukuna picks up your daughter from school, he makes quite the impression and we learn more about his background.
cw: None really here except I guess this is low key becoming a slow burn, idk.
You were stuck at work and didn't have anyone else who could go get your daughter so you had asked Sukuna. The tattoo shop was usually slow in the evening this far into winter anyway, and he couldn't imagine saying no to you even if he'd been fully booked.
It felt strange to be going outside when it was still light out but Sukuna took in the sights as other people walked around, other parents clearly in the process of picking up their children from school.
Not that Bug was his kid, at least not as far you knew. Yet.
Sukuna didn't do things halfway, just wasn't in his nature. He knew he was moving fast, he had put up with his little brother Yuji's nervous protests at dinner the week before when he had explained his new living situation, but he wasn't going to slow things down when they were going so well.
For a long time, it had just been him and Yuji. There had been other relatives, like Yuji's grandfather and his freak of a mother, but the two had mostly bounced around foster homes and made due until Sukuna was old enough to take care of them both. Yuji was graduating college in the spring and Sukuna had been alone since he left for the dorms and now he had an apartment with some friends from school. Sukuna was proud of his brother, he was one of the only people he really gave a fuck about. Their lives had been hard and that had made Sukuna even harder. Yuji had never been like that, he had come through even kinder than the average person and Sukuna could admire the strength that showed in it's own way.
The point was, Sukuna had paid his dues. He had done right by his brother even when the world had done them so wrong and now he was ready for his reward. You and the little girl he was about to go get.
The daycare was inside of a little beige building, decorated with those tacky outlines of children playing and some fucking mural with birds that always seemed to cover the walls of places like this. Parents, mostly moms, walked out with their children in tow, asking about their days and zipping up coats. Sukuna noticed the double takes as they took him in, the way the adults seemed to pull their little ones closer. That was fine by him, he didn't want any of these fucking rugrats near him except his own.
"Ryomen Sukuna, mom should have added me to the pick-up list," he told your daughter's teacher, showing her his ID. She didn't react to his tattoos or general aura with anything but a smile and he supposed that childcare workers must be aware more than most that they really do let anyone be a parent.
"Of course, I'll go get her while you sign here," she said handing over a clipboard with the names of all the kids in the center along with blue pen with a fuzzy pompom attached to it. While he was signing his name he heard a familiar squeal and looked to see your daughter running towards him as fast as her little legs could carry her.
"Sukuna!"
She tripped on some particularly tricky air and Sukuna moved forward to pick her up before she could face plant on the hard tile.
"Careful there bug, told mom I'd bring you home in one piece."
She ignored him and started babbling nonsense about her day that Sukuna could only really catch half of, but he nodded and hmmed as he finished signing her out and with a quick nod to the amused staff member, he headed out.
He shifted her on his hip so he could finish zipping up her coat. What was it with kids and their refusal to just zip up their damn coats? He remembered Yuji had been the same.
Bug continued to regale him with tales of her day until she eventually squirmed on his hip, the universal signal for "put me down until I get tired and whine for you to pick me up again" and Sukuna put her down on the sidewalk but took her backpack which he slung across his shoulder and then grabbed her hand with his. He could see people take second looks at the two of them and he supposed they cut quite the picture. The tall scary guy with tattoos carrying a pink princess backpack and the little girl pulling him down the sidewalk.
"We in a rush or something?"
Your daughter laughed and said something about being hungry for dinner with mommy which he could get behind. You both had only been living with him for a week but you already had a bit of a routine. He made breakfast in the morning while you got the kid ready but you always made dinner that was ready when he got home. It was nice, domestic. It felt like what he imagined life was like for people who had normal families when he had been a young kid. Holding a crying, hungry baby Yuji on his lap while they ate whatever he could scrounge up in whatever shithole they were in that week.
He remembered when Yuji had been the same age as your daughter and the idea of her ever living in the places they had, or going through the things they had made him pull her a little closer.
He wasn't going to lie to himself and say he was a good man or that he wanted you, the both of you, for some pure love nonsense but he knew he wanted you all the same. He had done terrible things and he would do them all over again if it led to this moment where he watched as your daughter cooed over the neighbor's dog. Said neighbor looking at him in confusion and fear as he told your daughter they needed to leave the fleabag alone and go home.
Later, when Sukuna was working on dinner and your daughter was sitting on the counter, "helping", he heard the sound of a key in the lock.
"I'm home," you called out and Sukuna called out that they were in the kitchen.
"Hey, thank you so much for getting her. I just wasn't going to make it in time," you said, picking up your daughter.
"No worries, we weren't busy at the shop today anyway." You hummed and smiled at him.
"Still."
"You can go ahead and change," he told you and you looked ready to protest when he went to grab your daughter from you but then Bug went willingly and he saw how you melted at the two of them. Good.
"Okay, but when I get back I'm taking over dinner."
Sukuna agreed and he watched as you walked away, admiring the way your clothes hugged your frame. He was glad the only witness to his hunger was a toddler who was more interested in poking his cheek than observing social cues.
The rest of the evening passed peacefully and Sukuna felt what he could only describe as content. When your daughter started to nod off on your shoulder, you got up from the couch to take her to bed, telling Sukuna he should stay and that you got it. With your daughter on one hip, you used your free hand to press against his shoulder and lean down to where he was still on the couch. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips pressing gently against his cheek and then with a quick goodnight, the two of you were in your room, the door closing with a quick 'click'.
The gesture had been so innocent and Sukuna would have mocked anyone he knew who got so flustered over a gesture as meaningless as a kiss on the cheek.
But how could any gesture be meaningless when it came from you?
#jjk sukuna#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna x singlemomreader
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Part 8
You had planned to spend Sunday morning nursing a hangover with Mere and Tabitha, but after last night’s events you had decided to catch up on organizing the shop while putting your phone on do not disturb.
You had turned your location services off in hopes that for a few hours the world would just leave you the fuck alone.
A few hours was all you were given before a tapping came on the front door of your shop around noon. Peering through the glass window, you spotted him.
He was holding a huge brown paper bag looking at little worse for wear since the last time he showed up. You debated on ignoring him. He had missed the early morning shower otherwise you really would have left him outside.
Bastard.
"John-" When you opened the door, he entered immediately. No doubt guessing you planned to slam the door immediately after telling him to fuck off.
He would have been right.
"Please," you say flatly before closing the door. "Do come in." After last night, after this week, the last thing you wanted to do was see anybody. Him, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, fucking Meredith or Tabitha. Why was it so hard for a person who had very few people in her life, all of which were on the skirts with her, to leave her alone for a single day?
"Well?" You asked when he said nothing. He cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for a long, drawn out speech.
Instead he handed you the bag, the smell hitting you. Warm and welcoming. Price was the only one out of the four who could cook a damn good meal, which made him extra picky when it came to eating out. “Wanted to check in.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do with them now. “Simon said you had a rough night.”
You scoffed at the understatement. "Yeah," you hated this. You didn't want to tell John about your shitty night with your even shittier friends. "It wasn't the best night out."
"So you know that bloke who got handsy or was he just some random prick?" Your mouth fell open in shock. You didn't expect Simon to be such a fucking gossip. And how fuckin' dare John for thinking he had any right to know who was grabbing your ass and your involvement to that person.
No. Fuck that.
"We're not doing this," you said putting the bag on an empty display table. Fuck. You need to go ahead and unbox that shipment in the back.
"What?" He asked, oblivious as to what he said that was wrong. You push heel of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the headache that was threatening to form. "Some prick took a feel of ya' and I want to see if-"
"If what?" You cut in. "If I need some comfort at being utterly fucking humiliated at Simon going all caveman in front of everyone and dragging me outside like a child? Or do you want to finish want Simon start with almost killing him!"
"From what I heard, he didn't kill him," John's audacity to correct you as if Simon's restraint was remarkable baffled you. "There's something to be said about that."
"He held him by the neck in the air like a ragdoll. He choked him out in the middle of the pub."
"But," he held up a finger. "he didn't break his neck. He knew you'd be upset."
"You're not seriously defending him right now." You could feel your blood pressure rising. Your lid ready to blow like a fucking kettle.
"From what Simon said it didn't look like the attraction was mutual." That gave you pause. Simon told John it didn't look... mutual. Could Simon tell you were uncomfortable? Did he hear everything Percy said?
Where the fuck did Simon come from anyway?
why the fuck was he at the pub in the first place???
Your mouth hung open for several beats. Any longer and a bug could fly in. But fuck if it didn't feel like cold water had been dumped on you. Why and how did Simon think it wasn't mutual? Why did he care??? Why was he acting like he didn't?
"He-" You began, trying to think of what to ask only to simply screech out "What?" John held his hands up in surrender. Your kettle whistled. You were pissed. More pissed than John had ever seen you and it was still a miracle you hadn't hurled the take out at his head.
"All I'm saying is if he grabbed you without an invitation and Simon saw, the prick is lucky to be alive, much less still walking around with hands."
"Si-" you started. "He-" You clinched your fists so tightly your nails painfully cut into the palm of your hand. "UGH!" You stomped your foot. It was childish, but you didn't care. "I don't need him rescuing me goddamit! I don't need any of you pissing on my legs like a fucking dog and-" you didn't stop. You weren't sure how long you carried on verbally lashing John nor did you give a single flying fuck.
Fuck him. Fuck Simon. Fuck all of them. They didn't get to stalk you and relay information like gossiping fucking school girls. They didn't get to break your heart and believe that you would let them piece it back together. They didn't get to neglect you only to realize you knew your worth. Only giving a shit until you walked away.
You went on and on until your throat ached. You weren't sure what thoughts had left your lips. You weren't entirely sure all what you said. All you knew is that you didn't feel any better. The look on Price's fallen face didn't give you any relief. You took it out on him and you were still hurting.
"Why?" Your voice was hoarse and pleading. "Why won't you guys just fucking leave? You were barely staying in it when we were together? Why now?"
He took a tentative step forwarding. His hands started to reach out to touch your arms before falling back down at his side. He knew he had lost the right to touch you. To comfort you.
"I miss you, Dove." He confessed it as if it would somehow make it all better. "We miss you." You try not to let it phase you, but fuck you were made of flesh, not stone. No matter how angry furious disgusted absolutely devastated you were with everything that happened, with what they did and didn't do, you still, or at least had, loved them. That love didn't vanish over the span of a week. Lord know your broken heart hadn't. "We'll do better."
"It's not that simple." You shook your head, your palms covering your eyes as they began to prickle. You hoped the motion would come across as tired frustration, but John knew. It was your tell. You were close to crying. You always rubbed your face when you were upset.
"It is." He said, finally taking the chance to touch you. Even if it was just to hold your hands in his calloused ones. "We mucked things up, let us fix it. Give us at least the change to be better."
"How?" You asked. "Stop fucking yelling at me for a couple of months until something makes you blow your fucking lid and I'm left feeling like a little kid who's in trouble?" You were surprised not to see him flinch away, but the soft look in his eyes was enough to break your heart all over again. "Or Kyle actually showing up for dates? Johnny not treating me like a fuck buddy?"
"We haven't been good to you." He admits and you still don't feel better. Leaving them hasn't made you feel any better. Only angrier. Yelling at him didn't. Fucking Johnny and breaking his heart didn't. Maybe Mer had a point. Just not with Percy. "We all wanted you and slacked off in doing right by ya."
"So what?" You press. "You want to resume where we left off? I just take you all back and work through the fact of how shitty you all were and hope that you make it up to me?
"No," he shook his head. "Not like that."
"Then what?" You asked.
"I'm fighting for me and you. No one else." You didn't know what to say. The four of them had always been a part of the deal. All or nothing. I mean, the fact that you even entertained the idea of being with all of them was the reasoning that if one of them had went down on the field, three more were there to take care of you.
"If the others can get their own shit together great." He shrugged his shoulders. "If I can't and they can, that's fine too." He stared in your eyes and for a moment, you thought about the first time John apologized for getting angry. Not at you, just in front of you. How he had gotten on his knees and told you the last thing he wanted was for you to be afraid of him. To look at him the same way recruits looked at him. "But I think where we failed was all of us was expecting another one to pick up the slack."
That much was true. Where others failed, others thrived. Simon always stayed after sex, Johnny never raised his voice, John was insistent on going on dates, and Gaz was emotionally available... when he was around at least.
"I know I wasn't the man I needed to be. I wasn't the man you deserved. I took things out on you that weren't your fault. I spoke to you in a way that if any other man did, I would knock him right the fuck out." He shook his head before giving your hands a squeeze. "I'll do what I need to do to set things right between you and me. I'll put in the work to do whatever it takes to have you trust me again."
"It wasn't about not trusting you." You counter
"But it is now." He said. "You don't trust me to respect you; to show kindness, patience. And I know I have my own shit to sort out before even thinking about us being like we were. When things were good, I mean."
You don't know what to say, but you can't say he's right. You don't trust him. Not with your heart. Not anymore.
Moments of silence pass before John lets go of your hands and takes a quick survey of the boxes around you. Your background music of Van Morrison still playing softly from the speaker near your computer.
"You seem busy, so I'll let you get to it." He takes in a deep breath. You're expecting another spiel about how he promises to work on it. Just to give him a chance. You're actually worried you'll consider it. "I picked up your usual. Figured things haven't changed that much since we last went to our spot down by the river."
"Haven't been there in a minute."
"You wouldn't." He said. "Closed the place and moved shop. It's over by the park."
"The one with the asshole geese or the one where Johnny and I were flashed by that guy strung out?" That makes him laugh. You can't remember the last time John laughed. The way his eyes crinkled and his smile shifted his whole face into something entirely joyous.
You missed it.
"Asshole geese." He answered before turning and heading to the door. You didn't speak until the chime of the bell rang.
"What if the others don't?" You ask before he had the chance to close the door. "Get their shit together, I mean."
He turned, giving you that signature closed smile that makes him look like a quokka. You told him that once and he had to googling before arguing that he didn't look like the world's happiest rodent. "That's on them. I have my own work to do." His smile dropping into something softer. Something pleading and pitiful. "But, we still want this. We all still want this. Want you."
You shook your head. The threat of tears returning as you realized how wrong he was. Maybe he did. But not all of them. "Simon doesn't." you huffed, arms crossing over your chest. "He's made that much clear."
"That I don't believe." He shook his head. "Not for a minute."
"Believe it." You sucked in air through your nose as if trying to clear it. Price knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn't see you cry. He knew you wouldn't want him to even if he wanted to stay and make up for all the times he was the reasons behind your tears.
"I didn't do what I needed to and I'll do whatever it takes to get you back." He promises. "But if it came down to it... if you want to settle down and just chose one of us to have you, to keep you," he took in a deep breath. The next words like a knife twisting in his chest. "I wouldn't truly love you if I didn't tell you that Simon is the only one of us who deserves you."
"Why?" You knew in that moment Simon hadn't told John about that night. About his cruel words and your realization that he was right. There was never a true happily ever after with them.
"Because he's the only one willing to hide in the shadows and let you live your life," his smile now gone completely. "I'm sorry that I'm too selfish to do that."
#simon ghost riley#call of duty#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#angst#angst with a happy ending#grovel
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