#handle likes Winston

[unproduciblesmackdown]

"winston quant billions: like anyone else, an entire universe" or "the good news is it's just that everyone's been terrible to you, the bad news is it's just that everyone's been terrible to you"

[paimt]

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[eupheme]

— double the pleasure, triple the fun

[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.6k

tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings

a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

(Or, your two becomes three.)

“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”

Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 

Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.

To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.

“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 

A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”

“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”

The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.

“Is that... Logan?”

“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”

There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”

“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“

Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”

“Definitely, maybe.”

Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 

“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”

He hums, head tilting.

“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”

Your brow furrows.

“You are talking about Logan now, right?”

Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”

And what a question it is. 

You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.

And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 

That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.

It was different. Special.

“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”

You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 

“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”

“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”

He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“

Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.

“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”

Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.

“Do you think he wants that, too?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”

You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”

“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.

“I’ll handle it.”

It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.

A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.

He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  

It will be nice to be able to take your time. 

They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 

Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.

How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 

"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"

"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."

And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.

The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 

Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.

"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."

Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."

"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"

"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."

At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 

Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.

It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 

But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 

And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.

"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."

"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"

It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.

Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 

"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"

Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.

"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"

He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"

"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."

That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"

"Yeah, baby." He grins.

"Really fucking good." 

The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 

Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 

Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 

And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 

More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.

It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 

Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.

Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 

“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 

It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 

“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”

“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 

A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”

“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”

Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.

“This is you handling it?” You hiss.

“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”

Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 

Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 

“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”

There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.

A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.

It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 

A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 

“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 

”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”

There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.

“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 

“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.

Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.

“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 

Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 

Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.

That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 

It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 

“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”

You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 

“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”

Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”

For us. 

Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 

Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 

Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 

They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.

There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 

“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”

Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.

“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”

Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”

Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”

Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.

“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”

Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.

Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 

Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 

“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 

A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.

Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”

Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.

“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”

“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”

Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.

Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.

“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.

His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.

“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”

Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 

Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.

“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”

Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.

“Fuck us into your tight ass.”

You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 

“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”

“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.

His fingers crook, and curl.

“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 

“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”

His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”

It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.

The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.

His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.

Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.

A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 

“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”

They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.

“Stop moving when I do.”

It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.

“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”

His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.

“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 

Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 

A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”

You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.

“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”

“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 

“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”

Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.

Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 

Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.

It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.

Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 

How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.

A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.

It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 

He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.

Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 

A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.

Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 

The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.

A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.

Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.

A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 

“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”

Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.

“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.

The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.

His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”

“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.

“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”

Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”

Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.

Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  

Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.

You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  

“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”

Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 

It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 

Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 

The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 

Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 

There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.

Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.

Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 

Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 

“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 

Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.

“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”

“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”

Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 

Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 

Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 

Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 

It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 

Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 

A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 

It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 

“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.

“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”

Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.

As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 

“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”

“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 

Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.

“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, by the way.”

Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 

Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 

Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.

The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 

Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.

You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.

“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 

Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.

“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”

“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”

A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”

“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”

Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 

That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.

There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.

Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 

Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 

“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.

“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”

He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 

“I’m good.”

thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )

[glitchkoi]

UWE is certainly turning out to be. Something!

[mixedbag-o-beans]

convinced the old man at the truck stop popeyes with the unleashed dog named Sir Winston Churchill that was grilling me about British history was one of the old gods. anyway, i remain unimpressed

[inezthefish]

My Outsiders Headcanons

Warnings: None, maybe some cursing, mention of Dally being a manwhore

Ponyboy Curtis

- He 100% has a gluten allergy or is lactose intolerant

-Trips up the stairs

-He puts ranch on everything

Sodapop Curtis

-Rip Soda you would have loved Takis 😞

-He can’t add anything past 7+4 without using his hands.

-He hates spiders and screams like a little girl if he sees one.

Darry Curtis

-Makes one of those huge, itemized shopping lists.

-Will put soap in your mouth if you say a bad word

-Type of guy to be on a date with a girl and be having a nice conversation and then it’ll just be like

Girl- “So what’s your family like?”

Darry- “Well, my parents died so now I have to raise two teens on my own, and one of them ran away when his best friend killed someone last year.”

Johnny Cade

-When Soda grows out of some clothes, Darry very discreetly washes it and gives it to Johnny.

-Hates socks that go past your ankles, like he will tweak if they are past his ankles

-Loves plants, when he grows up and gets his own house he’s gonna be one of those people with hundreds of succulents and plants in their home.

Dallas Winston

-Let’s be honest, Dallas Winston probably has a couple unknown kids because bro ejaculates and evacuates.

-Cat person. 100% had tried to bring a cat into Bucks and Buck was like “Nah dude”

-He has this one pair of boots he stole from a store that he gave to Johnny when Johnny’s tennis shoes stopped fitting him

Two-Bit Mathews

-Let’s his little sister (i headcanon her to be 5 or 6) paint his nails, the gang makes fun of him for it

-Actually fire at math but just doesn’t try

-Hates only the green apples, loves all the other ones

Steve Randle

-Has said “You can’t handle the randle” unironically.

-The amount of cavities this man has from chocolate cake and not brushing his teeth

-He definitely loves white girl music, this man can sing the whole 1989 (Taylor’s Version) set list and will do so.

[quizzicalwriter]

dally winston x virgin!reader who asks her boyfriend dally to be her first time

Sweet Thing

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Kissing, touching, fingering. Inexperienced and slightly innocent reader. Loss of virginity.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.8k (I got carried away.)

You’d always been Dallas’s favorite preoccupation, distracting him from everything else in life. The sweet thing he carted around whenever he hung around with the boys or found himself in the drunken den that was Buck’s on a Saturday night. You’d be there, propped on his lap with his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

Not that you didn’t have anything to say besides sitting there, hell, the guys loved you. You could hold your own when it came to their wit and it made you a worthy companion for Dallas in their eyes, not to mention your inexplicable ability to put up with his shit when nobody else had before - or seemingly nobody else had been given the chance.

Normally Dallas would’ve gone for girls at the drive-in, greaser girls, or any woman he could get his hands on or who could handle his banter for longer than a minute without giving him the back of their hand. You weren’t one of them, and frankly, that terrified Dallas. There was a part of him that wanted to pull away, push you away in hopes that he’d save himself the pain of heartbreak later on he’d convinced himself he’d suffer. But he always stopped himself whenever you found yourself in his arms, gazing up at him with your doe-like eyes.

It was a difficult thing, Dallas being intimate. He was born and raised in a constant battle for survival, not showing love or producing it, but you made it easy. The longer you two had been together the longer he found himself wanting to keep you close, protect you from dangers he seemed to see everywhere. The worries you once had about him leaving eventually faded, the look in his eyes as he gazed at you whenever you laid in his arms far outweighed any ill thoughts you’d suffered with.

The only way you could describe it was ardent, laced with a deep desire that you’d never seen before in his brown eyes. A deep desire that would show itself in the bounds of the night after the two of you had disappeared together, culminating in you on his lap in his bed, hips rocking together as he kissed along your throat and down onto your chest. Or with your legs wrapped loosely around his hips, him grinding into you, you whispering sweet moans into his mouth spurring him on to do more, touch you more, please you more.

Dallas never pushed, he was always understanding whenever you pulled away. Of course, he’d have to adjust himself in his jeans, but he’d quickly pull you to his chest and press delicate kisses along your face, murmuring how much you mean to him, something he didn’t dare do in front of others. That side of Dallas was for you, nobody else, so you treasured it whenever he showed it.

On one particular Saturday night in the midst of autumn, you found yourself propped up against Dallas’s side on one of the couches in Buck’s bar, legs bent up at your chest as you fiddled with frayed denim at the end of your pant leg. Dallas was in a debate with a random man, someone he seemed to know well enough to bullshit with, talking about how the two had snagged something good off a rich man’s car not too long ago.

If it hadn’t been for the incessant country music Buck played when it rounded two in the morning you’d likely have fallen asleep against Dallas, but the occasional jump of a new song kept you jerking awake, a tired pout situating itself on your features as you rested your cheek against Dallas’s shoulder.

“Looks like your miss is real tired.” The man stated, taking a long puff from his cigar before gesturing toward you with the end of it, a snicker following his words as he propped himself up against the end of his pool cue. Dallas quirked a brow, looking down at you where you were tucked into his side with a hidden smile.

“Guess she is.” He murmured, not saying anything more beyond that before moving to prop himself up straighter, hand smoothing down your back as he looked down at you. “Tired?”

You weren’t tired, tired. More so bored, the constant scent of smoke and alcohol wasn’t helping the boredom or the budding headache in the back of your skull. But knowing if you said anything other than ‘yes’ at that moment would result in another hour downstairs, you nodded, feigning a yawn as you let your eyes flutter deceptively.

Dallas caught on, but he didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to click his tongue against his teeth as he played along, shrugging as he moved to stand. “I’ll see you later, man.” He stated, causing the older man to shrug himself before dispersing off into the crowd. Dallas turned to you, helping you to your feet before leading you up the stairs.

“Lyin’ is a sin, y’know that right?” He chuckled out, quiet enough for only you to hear as he nudged open his bedroom door with the toe of his shoe, causing you to laugh yourself and avert your gaze from his as you moved into the familiar room.

“Didn’t lie.” You mumbled out, another pout crossing your lips as you kicked off your shoes, making your way to his bed. “Real tired, Dally.”

“Sure, doll.” He snickered from the corner of the room as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, the familiar metallic clang of his belt hitting the wooden floor echoing throughout the room soon after.

He moved beside you then, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your back flush with his chest. The sound of country music and clattering pool balls still echoed from downstairs, but the only thing you could bring yourself to focus on was the feeling of Dallas’s knee between your legs.

It was an innocent move, both of you slept with your legs intertwined, it felt comfortable given how small his bed was. As he shifted to get more comfortable his knee pressed harder against your clothed cunt, causing your cheeks to flush red as you choked back a whine. Dallas stiffened, breath catching in his throat as he took a moment to gauge your reaction before moving his knee again.

“Dal-“ You whined, hand moving down in between your legs as you buried your face into the pillow you two shared, his scent lingering heavily on the fabric doing nothing to quell the growing ache between your legs.

“What, doll? Feel good?” He whispered, words ghosting across the nape of your neck, causing your back to arch involuntarily as you slowly nodded. His hand smoothed down your front, bumping over the fabric of your shirt and jeans as he slowly moved to cup your sex, ever so gently applying pressure as he rocked himself against you.

You felt yourself soaking your underwear with arousal the longer he rutted against you, his fingers pressing against your cunt through your jeans as he did. A familiar sensation bloomed in your lower stomach, one that left you clenching your thighs around his palm as you tried to quell the growing ache.

“Gotta tell me what you want.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, trailing a litany of open-mouthed kisses along the curvature of your throat, pressure from his fingers increasing against your cunt. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, Dallas, just fuck me.” You whined, embarrassment over the prospect of voicing your needs soon being overweighed by the sheer need you felt for him, your hand moved to grasp at his forearm as you begged. “Please, Dal.”

That seemed to be all he needed as he moved to sit up on his knees, pressing another kiss to your jaw before pulling his shirt up and over his head. You laid there, lips parted as you watched him undress, feeling your blush spread from your cheeks to the top of your chest. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him - so you did. You moved to sit up, folding your legs underneath yourself as you moved to press a kiss to his lips, hands moving to cup his jaw, only pulling away when you felt that familiar pull to touch him elsewhere.

You’d seen him without a shirt, but you’d never truly been able to admire him until now. Your hands wavered over his body, fingertips dipping in between the rivets of his toned skin, along healed scars, a faint bruise that still lingered under the left side of his ribcage. Above it all you found yourself fascinated with the way his chest rose with each breath and the small freckles that lined his skin. They reminded you of the ones he’d gotten from his time in the sun that plastered themselves against his cheekbones and upper shoulders.

Dallas let you look, eyes fluttering whenever your hands would drift farther south than before. You could hear him taking in shuddering breaths, chest catching every few minutes as though he were teetering on the edge of self-control. He raised his hands then, looking to you for approval before he lifted your shirt up and over your head, bundling the soft fabric in his hands before letting it fall to the floor.

You reached your hands behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders until your bra collapsed into your lap, exposing your breasts to him. Dallas had seen women before, he’d seen plenty, but none of them had ever had the effect you currently had on him. He felt his throat dry, brown eyes flickering between your chest and your eyes before he moved to gently lay you back against his bed, situating himself over top of you.

“You want this?” His words were hushed as his hand drifted down over your bare stomach, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he kept his gaze locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort or worry. When you responded with a nod and a quiet, “I want this.” He smiled, a soft laugh leaving him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You’d envisioned losing your virginity hundreds of times, a perfect encapsulation of what sex had to be painted in your mind, vivid and blaring. But this was so different, the way Dallas was so gentle, not afraid to laugh if something awkward happened, both of you sharing the pure moment of intimacy with smiles on your face. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for it and that somehow made it all so much better.

As he slid your jeans off your legs he smiled up at you, a soft look on his face as he tossed the denim to the floor, moving back up to place another languid kiss to your lips. His hand moved between your thighs, fingers splaying against your cunt through your underwear, a groan passing his lips when he felt just how wet you’d become.

“Dallas, please-“ You begged, thighs trembling as he continued to tease you through your underwear. He relented, placing a gentle kiss to your jaw before moving to sit back up, slowly sliding your underwear down and off your body before discarding them to the floor as well.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, eyes wandering over your form laid in front of him, hands smoothing up and down your sides as he took it all in. “So fuckin’ beautiful, doll.”

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his jeans off, kicking his boxers off along with them. His length was bigger than you’d anticipated, only having felt the shape of it when you’d ground down against him during your frequent make-out sessions. As if sensing your apprehension he moved back over you, hand moving to cup your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“It won’t hurt, alright? We’ll take it slow, real slow.” He whispered, voice soothing as he helped you to wrap your legs around his hips, your heels subtly digging into the flesh of his lower back. He smiled down at you, eyes voicing a silent question if you were alright to which you quickly nodded back, a smile upon your face as well.

He braced himself on his arm, face close to yours as he slid a hand down between you, helping to guide himself inside before sliding his fingers up to slowly circle your clit. A moan left you at the feeling, leaving you clenching around his tip, the feeling causing him to bite back a grunt as he slowly began pushing in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned out, brows screwing together as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of your welcoming cunt, pausing in his movements to give you a chance to grow used to the feeling. “Doin’ so good, baby, so good.”

You’d heard horror stories from your friends, tales of how their first time had been painful and rushed, but this felt the complete opposite. While it took you a moment to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you, it was an incredibly welcome feeling. You could feel yourself clenching down around him, his fingers circling your clit only adding to the feeling building in your stomach.

“Dal- Dal, move.” You whispered out, voice hoarse as you grasped at his shoulders, desperate for him to move. He snickered at your pleading tone, slowly pulling himself out before pushing back in, slowly and deeply fucking you as he whispered words of praise into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses against your damp skin whenever he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him.

You could hear your wetness coating his cock with each thrust of his hips, his fingers slick against your clit. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, broken-off moans, and whispered words. Your thighs tightened against him as he adjusted himself, lifting himself a bit, unknowingly brushing against a spot within you that you’d never known existed - one that pulled a drawn-out moan from your chest.

“Yeah?” He asked through a smirk, hand moving down to cup your hip as he pushed back into you, hitting that very same spot. You could hardly think, let alone breathe as he fucked himself into you, fingers working at your clit as he angled himself to hit that spot over, and over. “Taking me so good, doll.” He grunted out, grip tightening on your hip as he picked up his pace.

Your hand shot down to his wrist as he continued toying with your clit, eyes fluttering shut as you felt your orgasm building to its peak in your lower stomach, the feeling causing you to rock your hips in tandem with his thrusts. The look on your face was enough to make him groan, his hand moving from your hip to your jaw as he tilted your face to look at him.

“Look at me when you cum on my cock, baby.” He murmured, voice soft yet authoritative as he slammed into you. As soon as you opened your eyes he moved his hand, pressing it against your lower stomach as he continued fucking himself into you. It felt as though he were pushing you down onto him, that spot that nearly blinded you with pleasure constantly being rutted against by his cock.

All you could muster was a weak, “F-fuck,” as you came undone, back arching off the bed as you whined out his name. He didn’t stop, stifling a groan at the way you writhed beneath him as he felt his orgasm building. Once you started swatting at his fingers that still circled your clit he moved his hand, choosing to grab the other side of your hip, effectively propping you up against him as he fucked you.

The pace was near brutal, moans forced from your body as your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn’t focus, still reeling from your last orgasm as he continued fucking you into oversensitivity-fueled bliss. You could feel his thumbs pressing into your hipbones, short curses slipping past his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He grunted, pulling out of you a second later, spilling his cum across your lower stomach. His chest heaved, cheeks flushed red as he pumped himself through his orgasm. You could only watch in a haze of your own, still catching your breath as he looked up at you, that familiar crooked smile taking over his features as he moved on top of you once more.

“Did so good, doll. Real good.” He murmured against your cheek, pressing a kiss to your skin between each sentence. “You feel alright? Need me to get you something?” He asked after a moment, a hint of concern evident in his tone that made you smile as you shook your head.

“It felt perfect, Dal. I’m alright.” You whispered back, turning over onto your side to face him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning up after to press a kiss to his waiting lips. “Perfect.”

A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, or even if you just skimmed it over - either way I appreciate the interactions! As always you can find my work over on my ao3 under the user “Unscriptural.” Thank you anon for the request! (Sorry for the late posting, or early? Wherever you are? I finished editing it and didn’t want to queue it, so here is your daily scheduled reading material.)

[agaypanic]

hi omg i got so excited when i saw you were doing egon spengler x reader aaaa! could you do egon and an personality opposite reader? he's all serious and deadpan while she's happy and upbeat (it'd be cool if she was the new girl in the team and had a crush on him). sort of like a "she fell first, he fell harder" situation?

The Sunlight On My Spores (Egon Spengler X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The new addition to the ghostbuster’s team is a ray of sunshine, and she has her sights on a scientist with an interest in fungi and the supernatural.

A/N: AHHHHH ive been waiting for an egon/ghostbuster request!!! since i havent written for egon before, i hope i get his character right lol also idk shit about science/paranormal jargon. and idk if eegs is spelled the way it should but it’s pronounced ee-gs, like egon but s instead of on

***

Joining the Ghostbusters definitely brought amusement and hecticness to your daily life. Although you handled more of the office work, you had seen your fair share of the paranormal action. Namely Slimer, who would get ahold of your lunch every now and then.

Ray was the first on the team that you had met, being the one to interview you. You liked to call him ‘Sun-Ray’ for his bright and positive personality.

You were pretty much hired on the spot, mainly because Janine had been complaining about the lack of extra help. But as long as you had a steady paycheck, you didn’t mind. Ray had immediately showed you around the firehouse. You met Peter and Winston on the main floor, the former being flirtatious and the latter being more polite in his welcoming. 

Then Ray took you up to the second floor, where the dining area, sleeping quarters, and lab were.

That’s where you met Egon Spengler. His tall frame was hunched over one of the lab’s many workbenches, doing some soldering work on a proton pack.

“Spengs!” Ray said with a wide grin, bringing you over to the scientist. The man in question set down the soldering iron and straightened up, adjusting his glasses as he turned around.

“What is it, Ray?” He asked in a somewhat monotone voice. He glanced at you, furrowing his brows slightly before looking back at his friend. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/n, our new recruit!” Ray replied enthusiastically, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Ah, so you’ve filled the new receptionist position.” He said, giving you a once-over. “Janine will be happy to hear that.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spengler.” You greeted with a smile. He outreached his hand, which you grasped firmly and gave a few shakes. His hand was slightly calloused, probably from his work, but still felt nice.

“Egon’s fine.”

“I’ve read a few of your papers on paranormal studies; I think the whole thing’s fascinating.” 

Some of his research papers weren’t the only thing of Egon’s you’ve seen. Ever since the Ghostbusters had gained some popularity, you couldn’t help but find him quite cute, spending an extra few seconds looking at him whenever a picture of the group was in your newspaper or on your television screen. 

And he was definitely even more handsome in person.

“Well then, you’ve definitely come to the right place.” Ray grinned, but your focus was still on the spectacled man before you.

“Thank you, that’s very flattering.” Although his voice was a bit monotonous, the response was genuine. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my spore samples.”

“Spore samples?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes. I collect spores, molds, and fungus.” 

“That sounds like fun!” Egon was a bit taken aback by your response. That wasn’t a reply he was used to hearing. And the fact that you sounded genuine and peppy was even more confusing to him. 

Ray, wanting to show you the rest of the firehouse, started to pull you away. You gave a quick goodbye to Egon before bounding down the stairs after Ray. Meanwhile, Egon needed to take a second to get his befuddled thoughts straight before he could tend to his samples.

***

You fell into a routine pretty quickly. The job was mainly making appointments and ensuring the boys were ready for a call, scheduled or unexpected. Occasionally, you filed paperwork or got coffee for everyone at odd hours in the day. But because the job was shared between you and Janine, you often had at least a little bit of free time.

“Got another one!” Peter announced as he stepped out of the Ecto-1 that had just rolled into the firehouse, holding up a slightly smoking trap. As Winston and Ray emerged from the car, you wondered if Peter had been wearing a poncho because he was the only one not covered at least halfway in goo. “He was a real slimy one, too.”

“I can tell.” You laughed as Ray and Winston peeled out of their uniforms with a grimace. 

“You’re back.” Egon’s voice almost made you jump; you hadn’t realized he had come down from the lab. He walked until he was standing next to you, holding his hand out towards the ghost trap. “I’ll take that, Peter. Ray, come with me, I want to discuss the containment facility with you.”

“What about it?” Ray asked as he closed his locker. Egon brushed past you to walk down to the basement, Ray close behind.

Not wanting to be caught staring at Egon’s leaving form, you whipped back around to the car. It seemed that Winston and Ray weren’t the only ones who got slimed. Poor Ecto.

“I think I’m gonna clean the car.” You thought aloud. “You guys don’t have any more calls until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Y/n,” Winston said. 

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” Peter interjected. “We gotta ride in style, after all.”

“Really, Winston, I don’t mind.” You insisted. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug.

Patting you on the shoulder, Winston went upstairs to take a shower. While Peter hung up his jumpsuit, you looked around in a storage closet for car washing supplies.

“Y/n?” You looked towards the sound of the voice, seeing Egon peeking out of the basement entrance.

“Yeah, Eegs?”

“You, uh-” He cleared his throat, cheeks going slightly pink, and you wondered why. “You can wear my jumpsuit, if you want. So your clothes don’t get dirty.”

You grinned, straightening up from your slightly bent position. Peter raised a brow at Egon, although you couldn’t see that because you were also looking at the tall man.

“Thanks, Egon!”

He nodded once before going back downstairs, Peter hot on his tail. 

“You sweet on her or something, Spengs?” He asked quietly, not wanting to gain your attention.

“Shut up, Venkman.”

***

Music blasted as you washed the soap suds of the Ecto-1. You were pretty sure everyone was out of the building, either getting lunch or just not wanting to be in the firehouse. You had taken Egon up on his offer, his jumpsuit fitting very baggy on you. You had to roll up the sleeves and pantlegs, but you didn’t mind. Especially when seeing the patch with his last name on your chest.

Over the music and your own voice singing along to Whitney Houston, you didn’t hear Egon walking down the stairs. When he reached the bottom step, he watched as you jumped around to the beat. 

“I need a man who’ll take the chance, on a love that burns hot enough to last.” You sprayed the last of the soap off the front of the car before turning the hose off. “So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls. Ohh- Oh!” You yelped in surprise as you turned around, seeing Egon, who was still looking at you. His eyes trailed up and down your form, but it was so quick that you didn’t notice. “Hey, Eegs! I thought you’d gone out with the others.” Even after turning down the radio to hear his response, you still danced a bit. Although, your movements were a bit more subdued.

“I was up in the lab, checking on my fungi.” 

“Oh! Was the music distracting you?” You asked, already sounding apologetic. “I can keep it down if you-”

“No!” Egon answered quickly, taking the both of you by surprise. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “No, the music’s fine. I wanted a snack and found that we were out of Twinkies, so I was going to get some.” 

You nodded in understanding, moving to put away the car cleaning supplies that you were no longer using. And then you noticed that Egon hadn’t made any move to leave. You looked over your shoulder, seeing that he was standing in the same spot with eyes darting around the room, and turned back around to face him. You tilted your head with a questioning look.

“Would you, ahem, would you like to come with me?” He seemed a bit shy to ask, and it made you smile brightly. “Wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone and all.”

“Sure!” You answered enthusiastically. “Lemme just put all this away.” 

Without asking, Egon helped you gather everything and put it in the storage closet. You unrolled the limbs of Egon’s uniform, and he couldn’t help but admire you in his attire, despite how much the fabric consumed you. It was hung back up in his locker with care before you grabbed your purse from your desk and skipped over to him.

“Ready?” You nodded, and the two of you walked out of the firehouse. Without thinking, you looped your arm through his. But before you could pull away and apologize for not asking, he was already pulling you along the sidewalk, the tiniest hint of a smile on his serious face.

[wilder7ess]

Random Dallas Winston headcanons!!

warnings: none!!

Would probably say that vaping is for pussies and tell people to smoke cigarettes "like a real man"

Sleeps in below 0 temperatures and if its anything hotter he cant sleep

Told darry he wanted to take ponyboy to see a movie... Dally thinking hes the funniest person alive, took pony to an ADULT FILM 😭😭 pony's ass never went to the movies with dally again

Was on of those kids in elementary/middle school who wore shorts to school while it was snowing outside

"you guy are a bunch of wimps this is nothin' " he says, while his lips are actively turning purple

D1 wyll warrior.

Can do pull-ups effortlessly and he shows off infront of girls

Looks & sleeps like a mf baby. Hes so cute while he sleeps!!!! Two bit pointed it out and Dally said "i dont look like a fuckin baby while i sleep i look tuff 😒🙄" he didnt sleep for like 2 days after that to avoid the "cutie pie" allegations

Has a random stash of playboy magazines in his room somewhere

He goes to school sick as if hes fine and not running a fever and looks like a zombie. "i aint gonna let some fuckass cold stop me from doin' shit"... then he succumbs to this "fuckass cold" and crashes on the curtis' couch and sleeps for the rest of the day

Makes fun of people who cant lift more than him

Cant handle spice at all. One cup of buldak noodles and he's mintues away from death

------------------------------------------------------------

first hc post might make a relationship hc with him but we'll see!!!!

[alittlebitofloveliness]

"You good, man?'

“I’m fine,” Dally scoffs, spitting a string of bloody saliva into the dirt, and wiping his mouth with the back his hand.

“See I would believe that,” Two-bit drawls, lounging against the hood of his car, “but you gotta goddamn knife stickin’ out of your leg, so.”

“Huh?” Dally looks down, apparently noticing the handle sticking out of his thigh for the first time. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah oh shit. C’mon, I’ll drive you to the Curtis’. ”

Dally snorts. “You’re drunker than I thought if you think I’m about to bother Darry with this.”

“Dal. You got a knife sticking outta your leg.”

“So? Ain’t like its the first time.”

Two-bit opens his mouth, about to ask for more details on that particular flippant statement, before deciding he really doesn’t want to know.

“Just…tell me somewhere I can take you where you won’t let yourself bleed out in the street in the name of being’ tough.”

“Take me to Shepards.”

“You mean the to the house of the guy who just put that knife in your leg?”

“Well he’s gonna want it back.” 

He says it likes it’s reasonable. No wonder Ponyboy’s been getting wilder lately, since he started spending so much time around him. If he was Darry listening to this whole spiel, Two-bit thinks he’d probably have an aneurysm. Luckily he ain’t Darry, so instead he just finds it all kinda funny.

“So, what? You show up, knock on the door, and when he opens it you pull the knife outta your leg and bleed out on his porch?”

“He ain’t actually mad.”

“He stabbed you.” Two-bit feels the need to point out. Just because it doesn't seem to have sunk in yet.

“Yeah, but not in the chest.” Dally snorts, “hell, this is practically a declaration of love comin’ from him.”

“I ain’t takin’ you to Shepards. End of.”

“Fine,” Dally huffs, “just bring me back to Buck’s then.”

“Fine.” Two-bit agrees, knowing full well he isn’t going to do anything of the sort. 

Ten minutes later he pulls up outside the Curtis’ house, and Dally lets loose a string of curses that would’ve earned two-bit the spanking of a lifetime from his ma not too long ago.

“You no good, lying’ dirty-“

Two-bit just grins, seeing the way Darry’s already crossing the yard towards them, those uncanny mother hen instincts of his having told him already there’s trouble afoot.

“Relax Winston,” Two-bit tells him, “ain’t none of us gonna ruin your street cred, and besides, you got be all fixed up when it’s time to return that knife tomorrow.”

Dally doesn't fight quite as much after that.

[lizzy019]

𝐼𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝐵𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝐵𝒶𝒷𝓎!

Dom!Dallas Winston x Petite!Fem!Reader

cw -> size kink, some mentions of drug intake (cigs), reader is a teensy bit dominant, doggy style to prone bone, ig a switch reader?, a semi-sweet ending

Word Count -> 2.5K

This idea thooo

Maybe it was the breeze hitting your face as you drove recklessly down the narrow roads Tulsa held open for you. Maybe it was how Dally was so calm and collected, laughing as if he wasn’t scared of accidentally crashing or getting hit by another angry driver.

Even though your seatbelt was strapped on tight, only put on because he asked (not really) for it to be put on you, he still used his arm to shield you when he hit a bump or stopped a little too fast. In a way, it made you feel oh so protected and safe.

You were speeding in someone else’s car, not even Dally’s, but it was thrilling.

Call it stupid, but maybe you had a bit too much tobacco for the night. Maybe you were picking up on Dallas’ poor habits.

“Y’know, if we crash, I’m not helpin’ you pay for the repairs. This is gonna be all on you!” You laughed, clutching the arm that held your chest to the seat.

Dally only playfully scoffed, taking his sunglasses and putting them on your sweet little face before speaking a proper answer.

“You know damn well I’m at least somewhat responsible, sweetheart.” He smiled. That stupid grin that always had you smiling back.

You had finally arrived at your destination; your place. A very teeny tiny bungalow just enough for you and your family. You had hurried him inside, your little hands grappling at his arms and pulling him along. God, you were just so sweet, so tiny but so mighty.

Once you had unlocked the door and shooed him inside, you locked the door once you both were situated inside and found yourself laughing when Dally accidentally bonked his head on the closet door’s inner hook. Even if he didn’t find it all that funny, he was warm inside from hearing your mocking laugh.

“Fuckin’ shit, what a menace. Laughin’ at my pain? What are you, a sadist?” Dally chided playfully, kicking his shoes off as he teasingly punched your shoulder.

His joke erupted a bark of mirth from you, causing you to fumble while you took off your coat to hang up. Call him stupid, but he secretly liked it. Your reactions made everything priceless, especially when you laughed like a sinister witch-cackling goof.

“Yes, I’m such a sadist, your pain brings me so much joy.” You teased sarcastically, hurrying off into the living room of your place while Dally followed behind you.

Your words squeezed a small chuckle out of him, a squirmy smile embedding itself onto his lips. Those pretty, pink and puffy lips of his that you just wished would crash onto yours. You shoved the thought away, letting Dally sit beside you while he tangled his fingers into your hair.

He simply adored the texture of your hair, it soothed him in a way with the way it tickled his fingertips. So while you sat watching your TV, with him mindlessly twirling away at your hair, he found it in him to come a bit closer.

Dally’s arm draped itself over the warm flesh of your shoulder, the relaxed muscle of his bicep pressing into the back of your head to provide cushioning was quite comfortable. You didn’t really think much of it anyway, you just kept your eyes focused on the screen in front of you.

Dally grew a bit discontented when you just handled his little physical contact like it was nothing, but he knew he shouldn’t overreact if he’s trying to stay smooth while doing this. So gently, his hand grazed your arm, pulling you closer to his body as if asking for something.

Your sweet eyes glanced up at him, the coy smirk teasing your lips was nearly enough to have the poor man short-circuit. Since when did you think you could look all tough and dominant and get away with it?

“What’re ya doin’, lookin’ all sneaky like that, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone holding a sarcastic malice as he tauntingly got a bit too close into your personal space. His breath hit your cheeks, that little smell of tobacco wafting through your nose.

You gave a playful shrug, looking at his eyes, down to his lips, and back at his eyes again. Good God, you were testing his patience and self-control.

“I’m not lookin’ at anythin’ sneaky!” You retorted, using a chiding tone while your lips dangled dangerously close to his. But Dally knew better, he knows he could pin those pretty arms of yours under him just to destroy you from the inside.

So he waited. He waited for you to have your fun.

“Fuckin’ tease.” Dally snarled, using his grip to keep you up against the door of your bedroom.

Long story short, you went a little too far. You teased him too much, gripping his cock through his jeans, running your hands all over his body and tugging on his St. Christopher. Poor Dallas was hanging onto a thread, a sliver left of self-control. Now he was almost bare as he molested your neck with fierce kisses.

His teeth grazed across the major artery on your neck, feeling that little pulse. Oh, he’d love to feel it in your pussy with his dick being squeezed, the little repetitive pulse of your heartbeat that got all fast and overworked from how he would handle you.

No, he had to have patience.

Sure, his neck hurt a bit since he had to lower himself to reach you, but it was worth every ounce of pain that jolted through him. Maybe he was a bit of a masochist for you.. not like he’d ever say anything about something as embarrassing as that.

The soft sounds of your whimpers that just seemed to bounce off the walls of your room was like an intimidation attempt, something to throw you off. But could you really be intimidated when Dally’s soft lips just kept sucking hickeys into your neck? No, you couldn’t find it in you to lash out and push him away.

Your hands mindlessly tugged at the hair mounted on his head, the soft little waves of his hair making your fingers shiver. Your hands needed that stimulation of touching something soft, and it allowed you to let out more soft moans and whimpers. His lovely kisses, God, this was gonna be where you died, wasn’t it?

Dally finally pulled away, a little string of saliva connecting him to your neck until he broke it to move you onto the bed. He didn’t waste any time taking off the last of his clothes before aiding you in taking off your own, his nimble fingers working fast to take off your shirt while you got your pants off.

Soon, you were both bare to each other, and Dally was practically stunned speechless. You had such pretty breasts, they’d fit into his hands so nicely. Such a lovely figure, such warm and radiant skin. God, Dally couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Dry, cracked hands came to massage those lovely breasts of yours, holding the supple skin and caressing it like they were two precious jewels. Jewels in a thief’s hands, what irony. Yet he didn’t have to steal these jewels either, they just waltzed their way into his palms.

Soft tugs to your nipples was what really got a whimper out of you, the stimulation causing your chest to tingle and respond to his actions. Dally was just in love with all of you, so once he was done consentfully assaulting your nipples, you were being manhandled onto your own bed.

God, he loved it. You were so tiny, so easy to throw around and use like a toy. His hands were tight around your waist as he heaved you and almost threw you onto the bed, flipping your body in a slightly rough manner so you were on all fours for him.

Jesus Christ, that ass.

That pretty fucking ass.

Dally’s hands were on it in no time, squeezing the soft flesh with his roughened fingers to feel its plushness. Good lord, you were such a snack. With his two hands still holding your asscheeks, he gave them both a simultaneous slap, chuckling at the little recoil they did at his action.

Poor Dally didn’t know how to handle himself, and he certainly didn’t wanna give you any prep if you were already so soaked from the previous moments. So he palmed needily at his greedy cock hidden away under the soft of his boxers, grinning almost maliciously as he took them off. He found it almost erotic how you were just backing your hips into him, to find some release.

“Oh sweetheart, you really that needy? You fuckin’ slut, you don’t have patience? Good girls don’t get what they want.” Dally chided you teasingly. He was taunting you, to get you to whine for his cock.

No. For someone so tiny, you were as stubborn as a mule.

So you waited as he fondled the tip of his angry cock against your soaked pussy lips, the lovely liquid arousal that doused the pink of his cock’s head was all warm and sticky. He knew you wanted it, but some teasing wouldn’t hurt, yeah?

You were so pent up, practically drooling in anticipation for his dick to be shoved to your core. But no, Dally just wouldn’t let it happen yet, would he?

“Dal- Dal, I wan’ it. Please.. I’m good. I’m good, right?” You finally managed to mumble out, a bit embarrassed by your straightforwardness.

These words that tumbled from your lips made poor Dally sit upright in shock. A light squint of his eye, a small smirk on his lips, made it all too clear how flummoxed he was at your sudden submission. While he wasn’t all that adamant before, he certainly was now!

“Yeah.. yeah, sweetheart, you’ve been good. You wan’ it? Whaddya want, baby?” The little bit of genuine emotion mixed with a harsh overlap of condescension was all you needed to get all prepared.

You were so ready to take his cock, anticipating the moment the hard length rammed itself into your cunt, but you suddenly lost your expectation when it seemed he was taking too long.

Was he staring at your cunt like a creep? Maybe he was putting a condom on?

You couldn’t tell from your current position, so you adjusted your head just a bit before Dally stopped all of your thoughts with a harsh rut of his hips. Soon, you weren’t even focused on reprimanding him, simply engulfing in the pleasure he doused you in every time his cock kissed your cervix.

The mewls and whines that escaped your loose jaw was already enough to get him off, but seeing your tiny form under him taking his cock that looked just a size too big for you?

Fucking god, he was gonna die on this bed and he knew it.

Dally was having the time of his life ramming the girth of his hardened length into your sweet little core, pounding relentlessly into you, using his strength to counter whenever your little hand flailed to try and push him away. Maybe he was a bit too kinky for this, or maybe you were just a bit too tiny and cute looking.

Your legs were getting weak with every deliberate rut of his hips, only serving to further weaken your knees and calves as well as the muscles in your inner thighs. You were going to collapse, you were sure of it. Your body grew more unstable from his weight pressing on you, but you couldn’t find it in you to tell him to stop when he just kept making your cunt cream and gush around him.

It wasn’t long until your legs gave up, your body crashing into the plush of your mattress which honestly felt a bit better than the relentless and merciless thrusts of his cock to your core. Dally was quick to accommodate, the weight of his own body pressing lightly against your back as his hands caged your arms that flailed about. Your wrists were soon pinned to the soft plush of the mattress.

Your poor cunt was just gushing for him, trying to lubricate itself to accommodate to his repetitive and thoughtless rutting motions, and you were gripping the fabric of your sheets for dear life as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, jaw slack and a little daze in your head. There was an orgasm bubbling up within your stomach, it was getting intense too but you were sure Dally could feel it.

Oh, he could fucking feel it.

The throbs of your pussy walls, the sweet little pulse of your heartbeat whenever he paused for a second or two for his stamina to build up again, the lovely fluid that released itself from your achy cunt. He was in heaven.

But soon enough, you were teetering off of the thin line of pure ecstasy. Your body practically trembled as you fought to hold on, but you knew it wasn’t enough. You were unable to control the clamp of your pussy as you screamed when you came.

Long, pulsating squeezes of your cunt were delivered to Dally, causing his hips to falter in pace as he allowed your climax to wash away. It was only a few moments, and you were barely hanging onto your consciousness. But soon, once most of the tingling nerves settled and Dally, he was back at it again to chase his own orgasm.

Though, it didn’t take long either since he was already close when you came. Now it was just a matter of getting that rhythm back to climb the steps of ecstasy. His thrusts were at a reasonable pace, faltering here or there until finally, Dally came.

Thick spurts of his babies filled the latex sheath he wore to protect your lovely womb from a possible unwanted child, his breaths growing ragged and uneven as his body weight crashed atop you. This seemed to startle you awake, as instantly you wheezed out a puff of air and squirmed about to try and get him off.

“Dally! Dally, you’re crushing me! Get offa me, you fatass!” You heaved in for air, trying to get your oxygen back while he laughed and rolled off of you, taking his cock out of your cunt simultaneously and sighing happily.

Dally took the condom off, tying the open end and chucking it to wherever on the floor, designating it as an item to deal with later. Now it was all about some lazy makeout session to end off your pleasant evening with stupid Dallas fucking Winston.

At least his kisses weren’t sloppy.

Shoutouts to:

@johnnycadesslut @raycravens116 the pookies fr

[grlsinterrupted]

kiss me beneath the milky twilight ♡ ‧₊˚

inspired by the party scene in 10 things i hate about you 𖦹₊ ⊹ | dallas winston x soc ! reader

-

the air was thick with the scent of cigarettes, coors beer, and sweat as the sound of music blasting through the speakers and chatter overlapped one another. to say that this was out of your nature was an understatement— you weren’t much of a party girl to begin with, but you especially weren’t the type of girl to attend a party buck merrill was hosting. sure, the parties that your soc friends hosted were absolute chaos, but this? these kind of parties on the other side of town wreaked a different level of havoc.

as soon as you stepped in through the door, it felt as if there were a million stares of disgust and confusion watching your every move. with your voluminous french twist updo and your hands tucked into the cardigan over your a-lined dress, you stuck out like a sore thumb compared to all the heads of grease you were engulfed in. however, there was a particular head of grease that appeared to be making his way towards you.

dallas winston, also known as ‘that hood with the headache-inducing accent’ by your friends— but even though your friends had a deep hatred for him, you could never seem to care that much about what your friends thought of him. maybe it was his scruffy brown hair, or those gorgeous puppy-like eyes that you couldn’t help but lose yourself in, or maybe it was the way he embodied an adrenaline rush— just what you needed to distract yourself from the stress of reality.

“what’s a prissy ol’ princess like you doing ‘round these parts?” he says with his signature smug smirk that drives you head over heels. dally leans against the wall with a cigarette placed between his rosy lips, taking a drag out of his cigarette before blowing the smoke into your face.

you cough as the smoke invades your airways, your hands fanning away the smoke into another direction. god, you hated the smell of stale tobacco. you then grab a shot of cheap vodka, downing it and slamming it back down onto the table. coming to this party undeniably one of the most impulsive decisions of your entire life— you could barely handle staying at one of bob’s ragers for more than 30 minutes before it got too barbaric.

you choke on the bitterness of the vodka slamming onto your tastebuds, scorching down your throat.

“i’m getting wasted, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at a party?”

dallas lets out a chuckle of amusement as he watches you down that vodka like there’s no tomorrow. he shrugs, removing the cigarette from his lips and crushing it onto the floor with the heel of his combat boots. “i dunno, i say do whatever you wanna do.”

“funny,” you mutter in a monotone voice, your words laced with sarcasm. you grab another shot from the table, downing it as you walk away from him, your hand in the air waving ‘bye.’

after one too many shots of vodka, your mind is practically on autopilot. in the blink of an eye, you found yourself on top of a table dancing to the song ‘jailhouse rock’ for an audience of hoods and greasers. it felt as though you’d been set free, your inner wild spirit was finally breaking through your ‘soc princess’ image. your hips swayed to the beat of the music with not a thought in the world, completely unaware of the ceiling light dangling right above your head. just as you raised your heels and shifted your weight onto your toes, your forehead collided with the light and knocked you down. just before you could land on the ground, you felt a pair of firm, veiny hands wrapping around your waist.

“at this rate, you’re gonna give yourself a concussion,” uttered an oddly familiar voice. that new york accent was instantly recognizable and belong to a certain greaser that you just ran into.

“‘m fine, dal..” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper. all of that screaming and singing must’ve done some real damage to your vocal chords— your voice had a rasp that sounded as if you smoked 5 packs of cigarettes a day.

“sure, you’re fine ‘til you throw up all over my boots.” he huffs out a chuckle, leading you towards the front door as your arm his over his shoulder for balance.

dallas seats you at the curb in front of buck’s house, taking a seat with you. there’s a glint of admiration in his eyes despite your disheveled appearance. your updo is now holding on for dear life, your hair at the verge of falling down your back altogether— not the mention the sweat sticking the front pieces of your hair onto your forehead.

you slowly look up into his eyes, your lips parted and practically screaming for him to kiss them. you never seemed to notice how beautiful he was under the milky twilight, his features glowing in the moonlight. you cup his face, letting out a soft giggle.

“your eyes have a little green in them,” you mutter under your breath, at a loss for words as you scramble for ways to describe the beauty in his eyes.

dallas simply shakes his head, a light chuckle escaping his lips. although he tries to seem nonchalant and unaffected by your captivation, he looks just as head over heels as you are.

“cut that out, princess.” he playfully nudges your shoulder, scooting himself closer next to you. when he tells you to cut it out, he really means to keep on going. keep telling him how tantalizing he is, keep telling him how irresistible he is.

'you wear those shoes and i will wear that dress, oh.. kiss me, beneath the milky twilight' .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[listofwhyyouloveher]

can you write ab what the greasers (separately) would do if their gf told them that some other guy asked for her like number or snap//

Summary: The Outsiders react to a guy asking for your number

Warnings: jealousy

Author's Note: been thinking abt rewriting some old fics that are really bad

PONYBOY CURTIS

Pony isn't the type to get jealous, he knows that your relationship is stable and even if a guy gives you his number you won't call

However, every once and a while he reaches his breaking point and just can't stand it anymore

It was like this when someone in your class asked for your number, Pony was furious. How could that stupid kid not know you two were together???

Interrupts your conversation abruptly and tells him to get lost because your taken, it doesn't go farther than that though.

JOHNNY CADE

Johnny isn't the type to get jealous, or at least not show the fact that he gets jealous.

He puts a lot of trust into you and he knows that you won't be swayed by the guys that hit on you

However when it's a little too close for comfort, he gets angry, for example of they're a close friend

He'll get mad and pull you away, telling you that you shouldn't hang out with these types of people

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop gets hit on all the time too, he knows it's annoying and it's not something a person can control

So he avoids being jealous and is rather calm unless you flirt or talk to the person that's flirting with you

If you open your mouth to even say "no", instead of just ignoring them he'll get mad and tell the person off

He'll be a little upset at you too but he doesn't show it and a good cuddling session will fix him right up

STEVE RANDLE

Steve is a cocky guy, he needs to have you infatuated with him and only him, he doesn't tolerate other guys

He's always instructing you to never look or talk or move in the direction of a guy that's hitting on you and to always tell him

Steve usually gives guys who are bolder than the most a run for their money, giving them his phone number instead of yours

If they're brave enough to slip their number into your pocket or your bag, they will be receiving a very ominous and threatening phone call from Steve.

TWO BIT MATHEWS

Two is lax about your relationship, you can have guy friends and stuff because he trusts you a lot

He's never really had to put up a fight for you except once when a guy smacked your ass and then asked for your number

Two Bit was livid, he turned around and grabbed the guy by the collar and asked him what the hell he was doing.

Safe to say you went home with a beaten but victorious Two Bit, joking about how the only number that guy should call is the hospital.

DARRY CURTIS

Darry doesn't get jealous easily either, well he does but he knows that he shouldn't so he doesn't talk about it until it blows over.

Darry also holds himself to a pretty high standard and knows that no one is as well built as he is so he doesn't get insecure easily.

If someone asks for your number he'll laugh at them but continues what he's doing and let's you handle it.

If they're really persistent he'll just get up and use his sheer size to intimidate them away.

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas is an on and off kind of person, there's days that he couldn't give a shit if you were being hit on

But there's also days where he'll pull out all the stops and beat the guy who's flirting with you to a pulp

His mood is never predictable and he often switches throughout the day so you can't tell.

One time a guy simply asked for your number and Dallas pulled them outside and left a nice cut near his jaw.

[em-ontv]

Heyy, I'm obsessed with your writing, so I was wondering of you could write some more about Newt from the maze runner? Anything really, I love your style of writing and i'd love to hear more about a charcter I love! Thank you, <3

Hey there, thank you for liking my writing <3! And yes, I will write more newt because he is an absolute sweetheart. Hope you like it ◡̈ !

Fix me up.

Pairing: Newt x medjack!reader

Summary: Newt got hurt when the new greenie accidentally dropped a garden-hoe that scratched him and he only wanted you to patch him up.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, Newt being a bit dramatic, a few Glader language?, use of y/n, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, apologies beforehand

Word count: 552

———————————————————————————

It was another normal day in the Glade. The familiar hum of activity filled the air as the boys went about their routine tasks. As you got up for the morning, Frypan waved you over from the kitchen area, a heap of fresh vegetables in front of him.

“Y/n, mind giving me a hand with these?” Fry gave a smile, gesturing at the pile while you walked over.

Although you were a Medjack, you often found yourself helping around in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and stirring up pots by Frypan’s side – he really enjoyed your company, since you knew how to handle food with decency instead of almost burning the whole kitchen down like the greenie he tried to train two months ago.

You picked up a knife and started chopping, the rhythmic sound of the blade hitting against the wooden board created a comforting background noise.

But suddenly, a commotion broke out near the garden. Raised voices and loud chatters made you look up, and without a second thought, you dropped the knife and rushed towards the noise.

As you neared the garden, you yanked past the small crowd of boys that surrounded the person in the middle – Newt. You were greeted by the sight of him, clutching his arm as blood slowly bled through the gaps of his fingers.

“If you’re wondering, the greenie dropped a hoe and scratched him,” Winston gave you a nudge, his eyebrows raised slightly.

“That doesn’t look like a scratch to me, where the shuck is Clint and Jeff?” you shot Winston a glare after seeing the hint of amusement in his eyes.

“They’re–” Winston started but got cut off when Newt caught sight of you and immediately let out a dramatic groan.

“Ughhh… it hurts!” Newt groaned again, his eyes flickering to you every couple of seconds, making sure that you paid attention to his… uh, ‘pain’.

Newt started wincing and grimacing, exaggerating the pain of his arm. Clint and Jeff were there long before you, and they attempted to approach him once again, to try and help him with his injury. However, Newt kept swatting their hands away, shooting them glares and complaining loudly about the pain.

“Stay back, you’ll only make it worse!” Newt declared, throwing in a loud sigh for good measure. It rendered the two Medjacks speechless.

“Oh, the agony! The absolute agony!” he clutched tighter on his arm.

To be fair, the cut was bleeding pretty badly, but you didn’t expect a whole outburst followed by a meltdown from him. What did you expect? Perhaps more maturity from the second-in-command. And if the greenie wasn’t already klunking his pants, he sure is now.

“Alright, move… move.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and finally decided to step in.

Newt sighed in relief, visibly relaxing and letting his guard down. “Finally, somebody who knows what they’re doing.”

Clint and Jeff exchanged an amused look, some of the boys standing around rolled their eyes and chuckled before scattering about, returning to their tasks now that the theatrics were over.

“Come on, let’s get you to the Med Hut,” you shook your head while Newt started repeating a bunch of ‘ow, ow, ow, ow’ over and over again, seeking your sympathy. Hiding a little victorious smirk from your sight.

[2knightt]

not necessarily a request but who (out of the greasers/curtis gang) do you think handles spice the best

i’ve never gotten an ask like this omg i think i’ve reached peak fame !!!! <3

—we’re going from best to worst on who can handle spice!

1. two-bit mathews

i feel like he can HANDLE spice. he’s the one guy on tiktok that shoves all the hot things he can get his hands on to eat it all at once. GIVE THIS MAN PLUTONIUM 9 AND HE’LL DRINK IT LIKE WATERRRR!!! spice connoisseur, dare i say.

2. steve randle

i believe he grew up in a household that had a cupboard of pure spices. steve’s the type of guy to eat those chicken burgers people sign forms for and come out fine. but sometimes he cannot handle spice. but that’s only like once every 6 months.

3. johnny cade

johnny cade has a higher tolerance but still can’t handle like those sandwiches you have to sign a waiver to eat. like he’ll eat something that most people are dying after one bite and only his eyes will water with the occasional cough.

4. sodapop curtis

him and steve used to eat hot things for fun, so i imagine it built his tolerance!! but not by much. he eats hot takis without a reaction but anything higher than it—he’s coughing so hard

5. darry curtis

i imagine he COULD handle it well in theory, but in practice? HELL NO!! darry could build his tolerance quickly if he tried, but he doesn’t bother. i don’t think darry would even likes hot things tbh

6. ponyboy curtis

coughs and immediately starts crying after biting into a hot cheeto. peak white boy teenage behaviour. curly downs spicy things like it’s nothing, so he tries to convince ponyboy to eat some. tried it once, and he swears he seen heaven.

7. dallas winston

don’t even bring pepper in his vicinity. he’s the guy that needs milk on standby whenever he eats anything other than salt. WILL NEVER EAT ANYTHING HOT.

[quizzicalwriter]

dally Winston x reader smut

Reader is a lightweight and gets too drunk at a party and her friends drop her off at dallys but she is rllly horny

Heaven

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve never handled your liquor well, good thing you have Dallas there to deal with your drunken stupors.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Tipsy sex (consensual!), fingering, slight degradation and rough themes.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.6k

It was supposed to be a small get-together. That’s what your friends had assured you when you’d all walked the near-mile trek to a random guy's house. Surprise, surprise - it was not small. Cars lined the street outside the multi-level estate, music loud enough to be heard the street over. Your friends didn’t seem to sense your apprehension, either that or they simply didn’t care, all of them giggling and pulling you in after them.

You’d partied, sure, but this was way out of your realm of comfort. People you didn’t recognize flooded the house, the air thick with the scent of marijuana and an absurd combination of cologne and perfume. Usually, whenever you partied you’d be with one of the guys, always with Dallas by your side at the minimum - but tonight it was just you and your friends.

“C’mon!” Shouted one of your friends, her hand firm on your wrist as she tugged you toward the kitchen where a man you didn’t recognize poured a clear liquor into a plethora of solo cups. Your friends scrambled for cups, one of them handing you one, all of you clanking the plastic together before tossing it back.

Vodka, that was vodka. You could feel the burn encompass your throat as you choked down nearly four mouthfuls, your stomach wordlessly cursing you to hell and back for even attempting to drink on an empty stomach. You’d never been known for smart decisions when it came to alcohol, it was something that bonded you with the guys and irritated Dallas to no end whenever he’d have to hold your hair back after hours.

“Fuck-“ You coughed out through a laugh, slamming the now empty plastic cup down on the counter, the motion soon followed by your friends. It would be the first of many drinks if any of you had a say, but in all honesty, you didn’t feel comfortable getting flat-out drunk without Dallas by your side. You trusted your friends more than words could express, but Dallas was like your own guard dog, it’d have been stupid for you to test fate on the one night he wasn’t by your side.

Your closest friend of the group, Connie, looped her arm around yours, pulling you toward the center of the living room where everyone seemed to be dancing to the music that blared overhead - or attempting to, anyhow. You both danced together, laughing loudly at those around you who were too inebriated to walk away from the massive crowd. It wasn’t long until you felt the liquor you’d chugged earlier working its way through your system, glossing your vision over and slurring your words together.

Time went muddy as you danced, the liquor doing its job ensuring your inability to formulate coherent thoughts or hold a conversation that didn’t end in bounds of laughter. The only thing you hadn’t accounted for was your tipsy mind realizing you didn’t have Dallas by your side, and you didn’t like that in the slightest.

It was nearly three in the morning when Connie pulled you out onto the front porch of the house, striking up a match to light the cigarette she claimed she desperately needed after dancing for hours. You moved to sit on the front steps, sighing loudly as you looked out to the lawn, mind convinced if you thought of him hard enough he’d appear.

“I miss Dal.” You whined, looking back to Connie who only laughed, taking a lengthy drag off her cigarette before moving to sit beside you, arm wrapping tight around your middle as she rested her head against yours.

“I’ll take you to his in a bit, just let me finish my cigarette.” She replied, flicking off built-up ash from the end of her cigarette. “I’m going to tell him that you haven’t stopped talking about him for two hours, by the way. You’re lucky you’re my best friend, I’d have put tape over your mouth earlier if you weren’t.”

You leaned against her side, silently thankful that you hadn’t done more shots alongside your other friends and had instead chosen to dance with Connie until your feet were sore. The scent of her perfume calmed you, the same one she’d worn for years, it reminded you of your early teenage years and how the two of you would get into countless amounts of trouble together.

“Ready?” You asked after a few minutes, having passed the time by peeling chipped paint from a nearby banister. Your question brought another scoffed-out laugh from Connie, who simply motioned to her half-smoked cigarette, but as soon as she saw you pout she rolled her eyes and moved to her feet. You moved beside her, a giddy smile on your face that made her irritated facade crack, knowing she couldn’t stay frustrated with you for too long.

“He lives-“ You started, quickly being interrupted by Connie as she covered your mouth with her free hand. “I know where he lives, dammit.”

You chuckled into her hand, pushing it away as you two continued down the sidewalk and toward Buck’s bar. With each step, the sound of the party grew fainter, until all that surrounded you was the sound of nearby crickets and the train yard. You’d taken up kicking a rock, whenever it’d steer too close to the road Connie would kick it back.

The walk had helped you to sober up, the cold air causing goosebumps to cover every inch of exposed skin. You’d’ve given up on the trek twenty minutes ago if you weren’t so determined to see Dallas, your fingers fumbling with his necklace that hung snugly around your neck, occasionally placing the cold silver against your lips.

Buck’s place was packed, as it usually was on a Saturday night. Connie begrudgingly helped you through the hoard of cars, cursing under her breath whenever you’d tumble over your own two feet and inevitably slam into the side of some beat-up pickup truck. As soon as you two entered the bar Buck looked over to you, laughing to himself before motioning toward the back staircase.

Connie’s arm looped around your middle, all but holding you up as you made your way upstairs. On the walk there you thought you’d sobered up completely, but the stairs slapped that confidence right out of your mind. If you hadn’t had her holding you up you probably would’ve passed out on a couch downstairs, but she helped you to the best of her abilities.

You could tell Dallas wasn’t awake, the lights were off and the door was shut tight. Whatever peace he’d had while sleeping was abruptly snatched from him when Connie kicked the door open, causing the man to nearly jump out of his skin as he looked to the door.

“Delivery.” Connie stated, nodding her head to you as you smiled over at Dallas, waving like a child who’d seen a cute cat on the street.

“Hi, Dal.”

Dallas looked to Connie, aggravation written clear across his face as he moved up from his bed, walking over to you two before scooping you up.

“Couldn’t have knocked?” He asked over his shoulder, earning him a snorted-out laugh from Connie who’d already begun making her departure. “You wouldn’t have answered.”

He couldn’t argue with that, instead giving Connie a goodbye under his breath as he helped you into his bed. You were being incredibly touchy during the whole ordeal, hands moving to cup his jaw, to splay against his chest, before somehow weaving them underneath his shirt and against his abdomen.

“Quit.” He grumbled, pushing the bedsheets down as he began taking off your shoes. But, as always, you didn’t listen. You kicked your shoes off, narrowly missing his knee in the process, causing him to glare up at you. Although he couldn’t stay mad at you, not with you flopping back onto his bed and lifting your hips to shrug off your jeans, kicking the fabric to the floor along with your underwear.

“Doll-“ He started, averting his gaze to the nearby window as you peeled your shirt off. He took in a shuddering breath, hands fumbling with the fabric of his boxers as you moved over to him, staring up at him through your eyelashes like a siren amidst a bay of water.

“What?” You cooed, one hand smoothing down between his thighs as the other held you upright on the bed, a coy smirk upon your lips. “Missed you all night.”

He cleared his throat, eyes fluttering as your hand made contact with his cock. Even while tipsy, you still knew how to touch him. You brushed your fingers along his shaft, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited for his reply.

“You’re drunk.” He responded, gently pushing your hand away as he looked over at you, moving forward only to press a kiss to your forehead. He moved from the bed, grabbing your legs to push them underneath the covers, moving to lay beside you after.

You pouted, clearly not happy about not getting your way, so you turned over to face him. He immediately sensed your rebellious attitude, his brows furrowing together as he looked down at you, wordlessly scolding you.

It didn’t work.

Your hand wove down his front, resting over his hardening cock as you kissed along his throat, humming against his skin. Sure, you were tipsy, but you knew what you were doing and you damn sure knew what you wanted. Dallas groaned, head falling back against his pillow as his hips pressed up to meet your touch, cock twitching against your palm.

“Want you-“ You murmured against his skin, nipping against his pulse point, causing him to whine as his hips twitched. You smiled to yourself, slinking your hand into his boxers, gently curling your hand around his cock. You could feel his precum dripping down his shaft, coating your fingers as you slowly pumped him.

Any resolve he’d had faded the moment your thumb swiped across his tip. With a quiet groan of your name, he moved over you, lips finding yours in a heated kiss as his free hand moved between your thighs, fingers finding home against your soaked cunt. You kissed him back, savoring the faint taste of tobacco on his tongue as he sunk his middle and ring finger into you, plunging the digits in and out as he sucked at your bottom lip.

“Dal-“ You whined, brows screwing together as your cunt squeezed around his fingers, pulling a groan from deep within his chest as his eyes focused on yours. “Need you inside of me.”

He swore under his breath, almost toppling over you to push himself upright as he all but tore his shirt off. You spread your legs before him as he pushed his boxers down, kicking the fabric to the floor before positioning himself between your legs.

His hands smoothed up the underside of your thighs, coming to rest against the back of your knees as he shifted himself closer to you. You looked up at him, clenching around nothing as he pressed your knees to your chest, his free hand moving to grab his cock. The position was exposing, leaving you spread and on display for him, something he couldn’t help but admire with a satisfied grin on his face.

“You’re dripping.” He murmured, moving his hand from himself to trail his index finger between your slick folds, causing your hips to twitch. You watched with bated breath as he brought his finger to his lips, gaze meeting yours as he sucked the digit clean. A groan reverberated in his chest as your saccharine taste coated his tongue, leaving him craving you in a manner so carnal it felt like a sin.

“I’d make you cum on my tongue-“ He drawled out, words sighed halfway as his hand grasped the base of his cock, slapping his tip against your clit. “But you were so needy. So desperate.”

Your lips parted in protest, the words cut off by a sharp moan as he slipped his tip between your folds, pushing into your soaked cunt with a harsh thrust of his hips. You felt as though you were being split apart, his girth dragging along your walls in a way that left you grasping at his forearms for mercy he wouldn’t grant.

“Wanted this-“ He grunted, eyes focused on your flushed face as he fucked you, only adjusting himself a fraction to circle your clit with his thumb. His cock pounded into you, the lewd, slick sound of your cum coating him with each thrust echoing throughout the room. “So fuckin’ tight.”

You could only manage a strangled-off moan in reply, cunt squeezing around his cock with his relentless pace. Every movement forced air from your lungs, leaving you breathless and dizzy, mind reeling from his thumb expertly circling your clit as you tried to focus on the way Dallas stared down at you, grunting out words of praise intermingled with degradation.

“Drunk on my cock?” He asked through a laugh, loving how fucked-out you looked. Your appearance was flushed, hair plastered to your forehead, lips parted as drawn-out moans fell from your lips. He nodded, answering for you with a hissed out, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

“I-“ You whined, nodding as you babbled. “I am.”

Each word was interrupted by a short gasp, a desperate attempt to fill your lungs as he pressed himself down onto you, practically folding you in half. The closer he got, the deeper he felt. You could only whimper, feeling your cum dripping down your inner thighs and onto your ass, surely wetting the sheets beneath you.

You could feel your orgasm building in your stomach, your eyes conveying the feeling in a way words never could. He watched you, his thumb continuing to circle your clit as he fucked you. Every roll of his hips brought you closer and left your thighs tightening as his tip brushed against your cervix. You gave yourself over to the feeling with a broken cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as your cunt spasmed around his cock.

“Good-“ He grunted, hardly able to finish his sentence as he fucked you through your orgasm, relishing in the feeling of your cunt twitching around his cock, coaxing him deeper inside of you. His hand moved to your waist, grasp so tight it’d surely left bruises in its wake. You watched on in oversensitivity-fueled abandon as he chased his release. “So fuckin’ good.”

His chest heaved as he pulled out of you, short groans leaving him in droves as he fucked his fist, cum spilling over his knuckles and onto your lower stomach. From his furrowed-together brows to the way his cock twitched in his hands, you couldn’t help but clench around nothing at the sight.

“Fuck-“ He panted out, bending over the edge of the bed to grab his discarded shirt, wiping his hand clean before shifting to wipe your lower stomach. “You alright?”

You nodded in response as he moved to lay beside you, arm encircling your waist. You’d both need a shower in the morning, and a fresh change of clothes, but you’d deal with that later.

“Stop goin’ to parties without me, doll.” He murmured against the shell of your ear, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Or at least tell me when you’re goin’, pain in the ass.”

His words pulled a laugh from you, his protective nature shining through even in the afterglow of sex. Knowing he was being genuine, despite his crude nature, you replied with a quiet, “Alright, Dal.”

“Thank you.” He huffed. “Now go to bed, drunkard.”

A/N: Whoever requested this, I am so sorry for making you wait so long! I promise I’m getting to all of my requests, sometimes they just take a bit - I swear I haven’t forgotten or abandoned any! I hope this made up for the wait, thank you guys again for the support you’ve shown me and my work - I appreciate you guys so so much!! As always, you can find my work over on my AO3 under the username, “Unscriptural.” Thanks again!!