#i can’t write for god’s sake

[soleilsplanet]

I think that my brain needs to be studied because it’s baffling to me how whenever I start a project, after writing one or two wips I immediately get a writer’s block and then I jump on the next fixation, and as a consequence the next fanfiction, ending up with millions of wips and not even ONE full fanfiction that I could possibly publish.

[so-sick-of-17]

Seriously?! There is a chat gbt Anderperry fic on ao3? Gag! Get that away from me. No one wants to see your disgusting chat gbt story. I can’t call it a work because no work was done and I can’t call it fanfic because how much of a fan could you possibly be if you don’t write it yourself!? “I wanted to see a happier ending to the movie.” There are hundreds of stories you could have picked from that a real person actually created because they care about the characters. They are all infinitely better than anything a computer could have produced because they actually have a human connection and people who actually are capable of liking the movie and the characters. That tag is my happy place and it is tainted by that monstrosity. Normally I would be incredibly annoyed no matter the fandom, but for Dead Poets Society?! Really?! The movie about how art is tied with humanity?! Did you watch the movie?! Every single character would be disgusted by the use of ai to produce art. Art doesn’t exist without humanity and some cheep to imitation is an insult to anyone that actually works to make art.

[edelgardism]

the biggest missed opportunity of kara’s storyline is that it’s implied she had the same issue on the assembly line as short film kara did, meaning she was literally a deviant from day one. thats why it’s so easy for her to deviate, no matter how many times she’s reset she will always deviate because she was practically born a deviant. that genius david cage proceeded to do nothing with this but whatever

[ilikeevilblondes]

World’s Worst Chauffeur

18+ MDNI!

Summary: Joel Miller, your dad's best friend, ends up getting roped into picking you up from a party. Without the key to unlock your house or anybody to let you inside, Joel offers to let you sleep at his place for the night. Needless to say, the both of you don't do a lot of sleeping.

TL;DR: You convince old man Joel to dick you down.

W.C: ~6.2k

Warnings: dbf!Joel, unprotected p-in-v sex, praise AND degradation (whoops), big fat age gap (Joel is around 50, reader is 21), daddy kink for a sec soz, aftercare, slight size kink, cunnilingus through panties, cunnilingus, dry-humping, couch sex (no outbreak!)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62586064

Note: hey y'all, trying my hand at joel miller smut because i saw an edit of pedro pascal and literally licked the fucking screen protector, so i guess that's god's sign of telling me to write filthy shit. anyway, hope you enjoy! wrote this instead of a politics essay #yolo

“C’mon, Joel.” Your dad sighed, meeting his best friend’s eyes with a pleading gaze.

“Look, I—”

“Just this once. Please. I really can’t get out of this meeting, the board would kill me. Especially with the damn FTC breathing down our necks.”

You were visiting your hometown for Spring Break. Tomorrow night, there was going to be a party in a town fifteen minutes away from your own—one that you had been invited to. Your dad was supposed to give you a ride home, but as always, there was some last-minute work emergency. So, Joel was his solution.

The aforementioned solution frowned, crossing his large arms over his plaid torso.

“I got better things to do than chauffeur your little girl.” Joel shrugged.

That was, in fact, horribly untrue. His agenda for that night consisted of re-watching one of the Die Hard’s and drinking a nice, cold Coors.

“I’ll owe you one.” Your dad insisted.

“Desperate ain’t a good look on you, buddy.” Joel cracked a small smile.

Your dad ignored this jab.

“Joel, we’ve been friends for almost two decades. You’ve let me borrow your car, helped me paint my house more times than I can count, and even bailed me out of jail when I sped down the interstate.” He counted the feats off his fingers. “But picking my kid up is where you draw the line? Come on.”

Joel inhaled through his teeth.

The real reason he maintained his firm stance on not giving you a lift home was, really, a bundle of three smaller reasons.

One, ever since you turned eighteen you’ve made it painstakingly and increasingly clear you wanted to get in his pants.

Two, you were a huge flirt.

Three, he wasn’t so sure he could keep on resisting. But he had to. For god’s sake, what kind of a friend would bone his friend’s daughter?

Hopefully, not him.

“I–” Joel began but was shortly interrupted.

"I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. You’re picking up my kid. She has no one else, and I don’t trust her friends to be sober enough to get her home without getting in some kind of drunk-driving accident."

He levelled Joel with a firm look.

"So, are you picking her up, or should I expect to see her name in tomorrow’s obituary because one of her little buddies got behind the wheel after doin’ a keg stand, or a gazillion games of beer pong or I don’t know—fuckin’ ‘Cheers to the Governor’?”

Your dad stared him down with an expectant look.

Joel took a second to process this.

He rubbed a hand over his face, squeezed his eyes shut, and then met his friend’s stare with a sigh.

“Fine.” Came through gritted teeth.

Your dad patted him firmly on the shoulder. “Thank you.” He chirped happily.

———

And so, there Joel was.

Leaning against his old Chevrolet, idly spinning his keys around his finger, and staring at the front door of the party.

Several kids filtered out; stumbling into worn Honda Civics with disgruntled parents waiting in the driver’s seats, or with their arms interlocked and their sides almost melded together, giggling off to god-knows-where.

When you came out, you were part of the latter group.

Some blonde-haired boy—tall, but not too tall—was holding you close to him with a stupid smile on his reddened face. You mirrored it with a stupider smile of your own.

He whispered something into your ear that made you laugh and was promptly leading you in the opposite direction of Joel. But Joel was both keen and quick to intervene.

“Goin’ somewhere?” Joel called out, crossing his arms.

You froze and turned your head to lock eyes with none other than Joel Miller. Your neighbour, your dad’s best friend, and more importantly, your long-time crush.

“What are you doing here?” You arched a brow, slipping away from your friend and nearing him and his truck.

Your friend followed after you and settled by your side, resting an arm that hung a little too comfortably around your shoulder.

“Evenin’ to you, too, sweetheart. And to answer your question, I’m pickin’ you up.” Joel stated simply, then tossed a quick surveying look to the guy next to you. “Who’s blondie over here?”

“Daniel.” Blondie blinked and stuck out his free hand, glancing at you. Under his breath, he muttered, “you told me your dad couldn’t give you a ride.”

“He’s not my–” You started, but were immediately cut off by Joel.

“Get your hand off the girl, will you, Derek?” Joel narrowed his eyes at him, a dangerous look underlying his seemingly casual tone.

Daniel immediately did so, going so far as to step a pace back from you.

“It’s Daniel.” He coughed awkwardly. Then added, “sir.”

Joel ignored him—or, at least, didn’t show any sign that he had heard his correction—and turned around.

“Time to go home, young lady.” Joel said lowly. He opened the front passenger door, and upon finding you in the same spot as you were standing before he had turned his back, continued with, “that wasn’t a suggestion.”

You mumbled a quick ‘goodbye’ to Daniel and hopped inside the truck.

“Good girl.” Joel sighed, closed the door with a bit too much force and walked around the front of the car. He spared a few seconds to glare at your friend before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Suddenly, the engine thrummed to life and the two of you were headed down quiet suburban streets in the late hours of the night, leaving what's-his-name in the dust.

The air had been thick with a tension neither of you could describe and was further blanketed by a heavy silence broken only by the hum of the engine, the faint skid of tyres against asphalt, and your own rapid heartbeat pounding insistently in your ears.

Not five minutes had passed before Joel spoke up.

“Who was he?” Joel asked casually, his eyes still focused on the dimly-lit road ahead.

You sank further into the cracked leather of the front passenger seat.

“A friend.” You shrugged, not looking over at him.

Joel hummed a non-committal noise as he carefully took a turn into a side street, the truck slowly crunching over loose gravel. His grip on the wheel remained firm, but his eyes flickered over to you.

“Your daddy let you out of the house like that?”

You huffed out a short laugh and looked down at your choice of partywear; a low-cut top and some tight-fitting jeans. Not necessarily the most vulgar apparel, in your humble opinion.

“No, actually, he called the cops on me for indecent exposure, but I managed to escape.” You spat out sarcastically.

Joel didn’t find your comment funny. Or rather, there was no indication on his unwavering poker face that he had found it funny. Or was experiencing any emotion at all other than slightly tired.

The two of you sank into yet another silence.

“I’m not a kid, Joel.” You said after a minute or two.

“Like hell, you ain’t.” Joel scoffed.

“I’m in college, I can dress how I like.”

“Is ‘how you like’ a prostitute?”

You turned to face him fully, your arms crossed and your brows furrowed.

“That’s both slightly misogynistic and completely off-base, don’t you think?” You snorted, then smiled smugly to yourself. “Plus. Admit it, you like it.”

That threw him off-guard.

For the first time that evening, Joel showed a sliver of emotion. His eyes widened slightly as he opened his mouth, quickly closing it, and then opening it again to say, “what the fuck are you going on about, kid?”

“You were definitely staring at my tits.”

Joel was even more taken aback. First, by your absolute gall, and second, by your accuracy. He may have snuck a peek at your cleavage, but in his head, it was very discreet. But, fuck, did they sit perfectly.

“You’re drunk.” Joel shook his head.

“You didn’t deny it.” Your smile grew. “But yes, I am a little tipsy. Not drunk, though.”

“I noticed.”

“Just say the word, Miller, and I’ll flash you the twins anytime you like.” You leaned over the control arm, your eyes travelling along his tensing frame.

“Fucking Christ.” Joel breathed. He kept his eyes fixed on the road but released a hand from the steering wheel to rub the lower half of his face.

This. This was why he didn’t want to do this favour for your father. You were already a handful while sober. And you had been a handful ever since you started college—making throwaway yet entirely flirtatious comments, pressing your tits against his chest a bit too much while you lingered after a hug, and wearing the tightest clothes known to man.

And now drunk? You were literally throwing yourself at him.

The worst part was that he couldn’t control his body’s reaction to you. In fact, his jeans felt a little tighter the closer you got.

Fuck, he was more than twice your age and here he was getting a hard-on—

Joel was suddenly violently snatched from his internal monologue when he felt your hand ghost over his lap.

“That’s ‘cause of me, isn’t it…? I can help with that.” You whispered, your tone almost pleading as your fingers gently traced over the front zipper of his jeans.

“Honey, sit back down.” Joel said slowly. His eyes remained intently glued onto the road.

Jesus Christ, he was fucked.

“Joel,” You practically whined.

Jesus Christ, he was so fucked.

“You’re drunk,” Joel said, more to himself than you as some sort of ill-justified dismissal.

“Tipsy.” You corrected helpfully, yet not retreating back to your seat. “But not really.”

Before he knew it, Joel was pulling up in front of your driveway, his grip on the steering wheel deathly tight.

Joel sighed. “You’re home.”

You glanced out the window disappointedly.

“No shit, Sherlock.” You replied.

Joel muttered something to himself under his breath and got out of the car, quickly appearing by your side and opening the door for you.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” He nodded toward your house.

You got to your feet indignantly and marched up to your porch. Joel followed after you, leaning against one of the support beams of your front awning as he watched you dig through your purse.

After a few moments of your struggle, Joel cleared his throat.

“What?”

“Can’t find my key.” You frowned.

“I’ll call your dad.”

“Not home. And won’t be, ‘till tomorrow morning. He’s in the city for some work emergency, remember?”

Joel ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, visibly mulling something over, judging by the crease in his forehead.

“And you don’t got a spare key lying around somewhere? Under a flower pot or a welcome mat or shit like that?”

You shook your head.

If Joel were a better man, he’d have caught the glimmer of an ulterior motive dancing in your mischievous eyes. He would’ve brought up the spare key given to him for emergencies—this would’ve constituted as such. And he certainly wouldn’t have said what he had next.

“You can stay the night at mine.”

You blinked up at him, your hand frozen in the opening of your purse.

Joel straightened up, taking his weight off the support beam.

“Or you can sleep outside. Up to you.”

“I’ll take option number one.”

A few minutes and a trip across the road later, Joel had wriggled his key through the entrance lock and opened the door, inviting you inside.

Joel’s two-story craftsman was cosy and lived-in. The leather couch facing a moderately-sized flat-inch was slightly worn, the coffee table was cluttered with magazines and empty cans, and standing by its lonesome in a forgotten far corner of the living room was an acoustic guitar. More importantly, his house smelled like him; like warmth and vetiver and wood.

You had been a guest at his house on several occasions, but such instances had always been with the company of your dad.

That evening you found yourself free of his presence and, coincidentally, free of a conscience.

However fortunate your moral freedom was, it was only partially incited by your father’s absence. The four lukewarm cans of Lone Star you had chugged at the party may have had more of an influence on your risqué behaviour, because you sure as hell weren’t pushing Joel down on his leather sofa and straddling his lap with complete sobriety.

Joel let you take control, placing his big hands on your waist like they were always meant to be there while you moulded yourself against him, and met your lips with equal fervour when you smashed your mouth against his.

He sighed into the kiss and gripped your waist tighter as you slipped your tongue past his lips, ignoring the slight scruff of his greying stubble rubbing against your jaw.

But it was when you began slowly rocking your hips against the tenting figure in his jeans did he suddenly remember himself and wrench his face away from yours.

“Shit.” He panted, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving as he zeroed in on your kiss-swollen lips and your half-lidded, desperate eyes.

Why the fuck did he just do that? ‘That’ being the act of letting you kiss him, but he was just as equally angered with himself for stopping.

“We shouldn’t.” He shook his head, but his eyes were focused on your pretty, slightly parted lips.

“Why not?” You sighed, leaning closer.

Joel took your chin in his hand and held you at a safe distance.

“You know fucking well why.” Joel’s voice rumbled deep with frustration.

“Give me a reason.”

“I’ll give you three: you’re drunk, you’re barely eighteen, and your father is my best friend.”

You huffed out a noise of annoyance.

“I’m a little tipsy at worst, I’m twenty-one, thank you, and my father doesn’t have to know.”

Joel’s lip twitched. You were very persistent. He didn’t even know why he was arguing with you, he just knew he had to resist whatever fucking temptation this was.

“I’m old enough to be your father, too.” Joel frowned.

“But you’re not.”

“You should want someone your own age.”

“But I don’t.”

Joel inhaled through his teeth, subconsciously nearing your face once more. “This is so wrong.”

“Just once, Joel.” You pleaded, your eyes flooded with need.

“Fuck,” Joel shook his head, his brows furrowed as he once again lost himself in how pretty your lips looked; all puffy and raw. All because of him. “Honey–”

“Just this once.” You whined prettily.

At the sound, Joel unconsciously rocked up into you. Your hands immediately went to grab his shoulders to steady yourself; feeling a little lightheaded from the mere singular action.

Joel’s grip on your waist tightened.

“Fuck.” He said again, breathing slowly.

Being as old as he was, Joel never expected to relive the days of his brazen youth when his only major problem in life was cumming in his pants after a pretty girl had barely touched him.

His dark eyes finally met yours.

You held your breath.

“Just this once?” He said.

“Just this once.” You confirmed.

“You won’t … you won’t try anything again?” Joel’s eyes dropped back down to your mouth and his thumb gently traced your bottom lip. His other hand slipped from your waist to the bare small of your back from underneath your blouse.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, but you shakily nodded your head.

Joel didn’t believe you.

But, fuck it, he captured your mouth in another hungry kiss anyway, closing his eyes and holdiing you against him.

He was definitely going to hell, but he would gladly do so just knowing he had felt heaven against his lips.

And, fuck, was that an unforgettable taste.

Joel gently trailed his chapped lips down your jaw, your neck, and lingered on your pulse point, all while one hand held you by your nape and the other against the skin of your lower back, idly caressing the base of your spine with his thumb.

Instead of the white-hot passion that had initially been the catalyst for this heated night, this moment was charged with an underlying tenderness. And all you could do was throw your head back and accept his tentative indulgence.

Though by the way Joel unintentionally bucked his growing bulge against your clothed mound as he peppered the crook of your neck with open-mouthed kisses, you could tell his delicacy was largely imbued by whatever ounce of restraint he inexplicably retained and was, by no means, a testament to his true nature.

He was holding back.

“Joel?” You whispered, carding your hand through his hair.

“Mmm?” He hummed into your skin, his eyes closed in bliss.

“I want…” You began, the words dying in your throat.

What did you want?

Well, his cock, definitely. More specifically, inside of you, but you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“Words, baby.” He pressed a final kiss onto your neck and pulled away the slightest distance to meet your gaze. His eyes were wrecked with lust; half-lidded and almost entirely swallowed by his dilated pupils. He softly took your face in the hand that was formerly resting against your nape. And when he spoke, his voice was low and rich with that sweeter-than-molasses Southern drawl. “Try that again. What do you want, honey?”

“You.”

“And you have me, don't you?” Joel said distractedly, his thumb lightly tracing your lower lip. His soft, umber eyes momentarily dipped down to your mouth as if he was debating on kissing you again.

And he was. Fuck, those lips of yours.

“No, I…” You breathed, your hand coming down in between your two bodies and palming his rock-hard erection through his denim. Joel hissed. “Can I suck you off?”

Joel’s eyes widened. You certainly held no room for subtlety.

“Fuck, honey.” He huffed. “Really know how to get to the point, don’t you?”

“Can I?”

Joel hummed.

“Can I be perfectly candid, sweetheart?”

“You have my blessing.” You arched a brow.

“If you so much as breathed on my dick right now, I think this night would come to a quick and rather … anticlimactic finish.” Joel sighed, breaking into a small smile. In true dad fashion, he then added, “pun not intended.”

You granted him the reward of a snicker for his antics. Then, you leaned close to his ear, letting your breath tickle his skin.

“If I had known that all I’d get from you was a dry-humping makeout sesh, I’d have stuck with Daniel.” You sighed, as casually as you could.

Without even looking at him, you saw the jealousy morph onto his aged face.

“Get on your fucking back.” He said, his voice measured, yet somehow equally unhinged.

You stilled, not expecting that much of a reaction from him.

“I said,” Joel met your gaze, his eyes holding a dangerous promise. “Get on your fucking back, young lady.”

And that was how you found yourself lying against the arm of a sofa older than the Great Depression with your jeans discarded in a wrinkled pile somewhere and your legs spread around the owner of said ancient sofa.

Joel crouched down in front of you, with one of your legs perched on his shoulder. He pushed your shirt up past your belly button and kissed a path down to the waistband of your panties.

His hand slid up your knee, then your thigh, and then stopped right against a particularly damp spot in your underwear.

“This for me or Daniel?” Joel hummed against your lower stomach, his stare flickering up to your face.

You bit your lower lip.

“You.” You said softly.

And then Joel lowered his head and kissed the patch of arousal. And then he kissed it again and again, basically frenching your cunt through your underwear. You could feel the pressure of his tongue against your swollen clit, sliding, only by a small margin as restricted by your godforsaken panties, in between your folds—

“Say that again for me, honey? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Fuck–” You gasped at the feeling. “You, Joel!”

“That’s what I thought.”

To your displeasure, Joel stopped whatever the fuck he was doing and his eyes found yours once more.

“Need me to eat your pussy now, sweetie?”

Yes, fucking please.

You might’ve said that out loud, judging from the pleased chuckle Joel let out.

Before you knew it, Joel slid your panties off your legs (pocketing them secretly—only to wash them on your behalf, of course, nothing dirty at all on his part) and then consequently salivated at the sight of your bare cunt.

Fucking gorgeous.

“Oh, honey.” Joel sighed, barely hiding his eagerness.

“It hurts…!” You breathed, your eyes flickering down to your pulsating core; dripping wet and throbbing in anticipation of him.

“Aw, it hurts, does it? I’ll kiss it better, hm? Is that what my pretty girl wants?” Joel cooed in a falsely-sweet tone.

He then held you still by the firm grip on your waist and leaned down right in front of your slick seam.

Joel tutted as he took in your desperate scent.

“So wet for me.” He mumbled, more to himself than you.

Without warning, much less another word, Joel dipped his head down to plant a kiss directly on your swollen clit, lapping at the swelling bud.

You gasped and a hand flung down to grasp his salt-and-pepper curls.

Joel smiled against your cunt and moved further down, his tongue lazily sliding through your folds and flicking inside your velvety walls.

In response, your grip on his hair tightened and you whispered something close to his name. Or God’s. Or anyone’s, really, you were teetering on the edge of unconsciousness from the sheer intensity of the situation, you could’ve been reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, for all you knew.

“Mmm... fuck, you taste good, baby.” He mumbled against your heat.

Suddenly, Joel pulled away with a wet ‘pop’ and his eyes met yours. Upon seeing your lust-blown face, he smiled through his scruff—a slight shine evident around his mouth from your slick.

“Good?” Joel mused, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on your hips.

You nodded deliriously and pulled him back up by the collar of his shirt—why the fuck was he still fully dressed—to taste yourself on him.

His lips moved hungrily against yours as he licked into your mouth. You were so consumed in the kiss, you barely noticed the sound of his belt unbuckling or his zipper sliding down.

It wasn’t until you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your seam that you noticed you were, very possibly, actually going to fuck your dad’s best friend.

Or rather, he’d fuck you. As long as you were fucked, you were fucking happy.

Your eyes flickered down to his length.

“Shit.” You gasped.

You always knew Joel to be a big guy; from his broad shoulders to his massive hands—no doubt incredibly useful in his line of work as a contractor. But seeing his fucking cock? You were still somehow surprised.

“Joel, I…” You blinked. “You’re so…”

Big. He was so big.

“Oh, c’mon baby, I know you can take it,” Joel said against your lips, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll go slow at first. That sound good?”

You nodded.

In hindsight, he should’ve worked you with his fingers first. That would’ve been the first thing he’d done after tasting your delicious fucking pussy, but he got lost in how good you felt against his mouth, he was too excited to feel how you’d stretch around him.

“That’s my good girl.” Joel hummed, satisfied. “I’ve got condoms upstairs, if–”

“I have an IUD.”

The four little magic words which really meant, please Joel, fuck me raw.

Being ever the gentleman, Joel planned on doing exactly that.

“Then eyes down, sweetheart. Want you to watch how I fuck you.”

Obediently, your eyes dragged down to the sinful sight of Joel taking his cock and slapping it a few times on your pussy, before just barely sliding inside. His weeping tip easily disappeared inside you, along with an inch or two, aided by the arousal coating your entrance.

He wasn’t even halfway in, but the thickness of his cock was unlike any other you’ve felt before. And, possibly, too much for you to take.

“Too big.” You whined.

Above you, a wicked smile grew on Joel’s face.

“Too big? D’you just say it’s too big? Well, tough luck, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t stoppin’.”

Joel continued to push forward, thrusting shallowly in, retreating, and then feeding you a little more of his length at a relaxed pace.

“My good girl can take it, can’t she?” He murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. He mumbled indifferently in between tasting your sweet skin, “after all, you were the one begging me so sweetly to fuck you a little while ago. Would be a damn shame if you couldn’t follow through with your own request…”

“I can.” You affirmed, squeezing your eyes shut from the overbearing sensation of being filled by him.

“Attagirl.”

And then, to test your claim, Joel finally buried himself all the way to the hilt, his balls slapping obscenely against your ass from the movement.

“Daddy–!” You gasped, your nails digging into his back.

Joel’s lip quirked upward in a small, amused smile.

“‘Daddy’, huh? Should’ve figured.” He tutted, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. “You want daddy to stop?”

“N-No!”

“Then take it—” Joel thrust into you, his tip deliciously kissing your cervix. “—like a good girl.”

And then he began a steady pace. Not too slow, but fuck, did he hit deep.

You could’ve sworn you were seeing little cartoon stars dancing around your vision from the plane of pleasure you found yourself on; otherwise known as being dicked down by Joel Miller, apparently.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Joel winced, his hips stuttering.

He really should’ve stretched you out with his fingers first, but there was no way in fucking hell he was going to pull out now. Not with how perfectly your cunt was wrapping and crying around him.

In fact, you felt so good, Joel was starting to feel a familiar sensation in his lower stomach that alerted him of how close he was to prematurely spilling inside you. Turns out, his unintentional celibacy (circa the fucking creation of MySpace) had a bigger impact on him than he would’ve liked.

“Yeah? Do I feel good, daddy?”

Fuck.

Joel’s dick twitched.

If this really was going to happen ‘just once’, Joel was damned set on, firstly, fucking your brains out without coming early, and secondly, making you reach your end before he reached his. Ladies and gentlemen, chivalry was alive and well in the twenty-first century.

Thinking intently about the starting lineup for the Cowboys game that Sunday, Joel began to pick up the pace, reaching places you’ve never been aware of until that precise moment.

Mesmerised by both the slight outline of his dick in your stomach and the sheer sensation of his heavy length, you took it upon yourself to encourage a quicker speed and moved your hips in time with him.

“Mmm,” Joel inhaled sharply, locking eyes with you. “Look at you, prettly little slut. Tryna fuck me back too, huh?”

Your walls clenched around him at his words. Mean as they were, his tone was still as sweet as honey.

“‘S okay. You take what you need, babygirl.” Joel dipped his head down to suck at your pulse point as he continued sawing into your drooling cunt.

“Need more. Please.” You all but whimpered.

“My baby needs more, hm?” Joel muttered against your neck, nipping at a freshly-made hickey. You yelped in response, but Joel only grinned as he muttered to himself, “she’ll get more. Filthy fucking whore.”

And then Joel sped up his thrusts, going in and out, in and out, at a brutal pace. Salacious, wet sounds filled his living room every time he shoved his fat cock inside you. That, combined with the unabashed moans spilling from your mouth, made the whole affair seem borderline pornographic.

Not that Joel was complaining, because you sounded pretty as a peach.

“Joel!”

“Fuck, that’s it, Joel!”

“Oh, Joel, you’re fucking me so well!”

Your moans came in tandem with every stab of his cock, blabbering desperate words of praise as your walls fluttered around him.

Joel sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, scream for me. Let the neighbours hear who’s fucking you so well, hm?” Joel lazily kissed your jaw. “You close, pretty girl?”

Unable to sound anything other than nonsensical syllables or his name or ‘daddy’ upon nearing your climax, you simply shook your head in an eager nod.

So Joel kept on mentally listing the fifty states to keep from joining you, and maintained his rapid pace.

“Go on, sweet girl, come on my cock. Let go, honey, I’ll catch you. ‘M right here.” Joel murmured sweetly, caressing your flushed cheeks. A total juxtaposition to the ruthless pace his hips were setting.

In and out. In and out.

In. And. Out.

And then his hand trailed down your bare stomach, lightly spidering over the faint outline of his dick jutting in and out of you, and settling on your very sensitive swollen bundle of nerves. His hand then began generously swiping at your clit as whispered sweet words of praise into your ear.

You clutched his bicep with an iron grip as you felt your high approach.

“Joel, I’m…!”

“Yeah, come on daddy’s cock. You’re so close, baby, just let go.”

And so you did. With a scream that reached God in the high heavens above, your walls clenched around him and you were nearly knocked out from the overbearing sensation of your intense orgasm.

Joel fucked you through it, unrelenting in his devoted momentum, his tip finding your cervix with every other thrust. And he continued fucking you through it, even after the last waves of your high, letting out low groans of pleasure.

When he saw your eyes refocusing, he slowed down for a moment, as reciting the ABC’s backwards was hardly working to calm his hard length.

“Don’t stop…” You mumbled, a bit sadly.

“Baby, I got no plans of stopping anytime soon, don’t you worry.”

And to prove his point, Joel kissed your right ankle and hitched your other leg over his shoulder, practically splitting you in half as he reached deeper inside you.

If he was gonna come, so were you. If the last thing he’d get to do on this godforsaken planet was send the pretty girl bent in half underneath him into two soul-shattering orgasms, he’d die a satisfied man.

Did he also want to show off and possibly ruin you for all men? Maybe.

Fuck, yes, he did.

He wanted you to be fucking addicted to the way his cock stretched your velvety walls, because he sure as hell was.

Screw the ‘just this once’ bullshit. He was gonna fuck you every damn night from now on, if you’d let him.

“Feels so good, Joel…” You whined pathetically.

Joel hummed in a self-satisfied sort of way and began pushing up your shirt to reveal your bouncing tits and leaned down to take a pebbled nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking at the nub, and nipping at the surrounding sensitive skin.

“Oh!” You gasped, jerking your head back.

Joel took it as a sign to continue, showing the exact same attention to your other nipple and maintaining his deep and rapid thrusts, causing the springs of the couch to whine in protest with every jut of his hips.

You let out a strangled moan.

“Joel—! Joel, it’s so…!” You panted, tears collecting in your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Shh, it’s okay. Almost there. Almost there, baby.” Joel tutted, gently swiping away your tears with his thumb as he continued to fuck you like he was an interior designer from the way he strived to rearrange your guts. “You gonna be good and come around daddy’s cock a second time?”

Your walls tightened in response and you let out a breathy whimper.

“Good girl.” He smashed his mouth against yours and swallowed your moans, his lips moving in time with his hips. “Where do you want me to…?” He mumbled against your lips, his breath mingling with your own.

“Inside.”

“Fuck, babygirl, you sure?”

“Miller, I said, inside.” You made a point to fuck yourself onto him with deep movements of your hips, displaying your intent.

“Yes ma’am.” Joel smirked, absolutely fucking pussydrunk.

With that, Joel caught your lips in another searingly intense kiss, licking into your mouth as his thrusts continued to ram into your cervix while you held onto the couch for dear life.

And if that wasn’t enough sweet torture to your poor body, Joel moved one hand above you, gently laced his fingers with yours, and brought it back down to lay flat against your clit.

“Play with that pretty pussy, baby.” He whispered against your skin, his hand moving yours encouragingly. “Need you to give me another.”

With a shaky nod, you acquiesced, toying with your clit like you had a million nights before.

Except this time, instead of imagining it, you really had Joel fucking Miller in between your legs, sawing into your cunt like he wanted to break it.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel’s mouth twitched into a slightly proud smile against your skin.

It took Joel half a dozen more stabs into your slick mound before his hips began to stutter.

And then it took three more before he buried himself completely inside, and, with a gasp of your name accompanied by an appropriate expletive, painted your walls with hot ropes of his come.

“Fuck, daddy!” You moaned, your back arching off the sofa.

At the same time, for the second time that night, no less, you felt yourself reach another mind-blowing orgasm, your walls greedily sucking him in further and shaking around his thick length.

He continued to fuck his come into you with a few more slow, but deliciously deep rolls of his hips, before he stilled inside you and fell on top of your heaving chest, letting your legs fall back onto the beaten old couch, too.

It took a few moments for both of you to steady your breaths.

“Was that … okay?” Joel breathed, staring at you with furrowed brows, and gently tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I think I blacked out for a second there.” You smiled.

Joel laughed and kissed the corner of your mouth. Smug as ever, he muttered, “I take tips.”

“That’s funny, since I just took yours.”

You almost felt Joel roll his eyes.

Joel slowly sat up, gazing down upon the absolute fucking mess the two of you made; both your arousals leaking out of your mound and coating your thighs in a light sheen.

Tenderly, he began to pull out, wincing from both the feeling of leaving your warmth as well as the sight of your come and his collecting around his cock in a shiny ring.

“Sit tight, baby, I’ll get you something to clean you up.” Joel pressed a kiss to your collarbone, tucked himself haphazardly back in his jeans, and disappeared off into another room.

If he had stayed a second longer, you would’ve said something that testified to how hard he had fucked you, since you weren’t sure you could move anyway.

Joel returned a minute or two later with a damp towel and began to softly wipe away the remnants of your dalliance, delicately caressing your hip with his other hand.

“What a gentleman.” You purred, watching him with a stupid grin on your fucked-out face.

Joel threw the towel aside.

“You think so, sweetheart?” He hummed, leaning down to give you a quick, affectionate kiss.

“Never had this level of aftercare.” You admitted, laughing slightly.

Joel gently manoeuvered the two of you so you laid on your sides facing each other on his surprisingly roomy sofa.

“Still regret not goin’ with that Daniel boy?” He smirked, taking your chin in between his fingers and tilting your face toward his.

You swung your bare leg over his hip and pulled him closer. “Not at all.”

“‘S what I thought.” Joel hummed happily, bumping his nose against yours.

“And … y’know what I said about this being a one-time thing?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re definitely doing this more than once.”

“Thank fucking God.”

[crushmeeren]

heyy idk if this is where we put requests but by any chance could you do the mha boys reacting to you putting on the pheromone perfume and you smelling hella good possibly resulting in something freaky ( denki, shinsou or bakugo) or anyone is fine🙏🏾

⋆⋅ I love this idea! I did twist this a bit, it’s basically the love potion “amortentia,” from Harry Potter but as a perfume. Why the fuck it’s so hard for me to shorten things down when I write, I have no damn idea. So here, have this. (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.

All characters aged up/18+. ❲ ̽ ⋆ FEM READER ̽ ⋆❳

⋆⋅ Between the ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ symbols are memories of reader and whichever character!

Thank you @pastelbakugou for helping me figure what to write for Shinsou. ( ˘ ³˘(◡‿◡˶)

⋆ ft. kaminari, shinsou, bakugou, todoroki ⋆

..⃗. master list link

The sickly sweet scent of vanilla ice cream infused with honey is what overwhelms Katsuki’s senses first when he leans in and hugs you in greeting. You squeeze him back just as affectionately and he’s in the middle of nosing at your throat when he’s hurtled back in time through his memories.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Katsuki mutters hotly. He’s trying, key word trying, to wipe the sweat covering his phone screen onto his tank top but it fails miserably, seeing as how his shirt is soaked fucking through. He’s more or less just smearing it around and he’s debating on just obliterating the useless piece of shit phone.

He curses whoever the fuck is up there and uses sheer willpower not to tear his hair out from the roots because of this scorching heat wave.

Finally, he’s able to read his latest message from you. It tells him to meet you at the ice cream stand nearby his patrol route on his next break.

Katsuki wipes the back of his forehead with a glove free hand, but it slides right across his sticky skin and then sweat drips into his other eye with a harsh sting and goddammit, he’s royally fucking pissed off now.

For your sake, he swallows his swelling rage and makes his way to you swiftly. The two of you have tried to make it a habit to meet a couple times a week when Katsuki has time during his shifts, he gets so busy that sometimes it gets hard to see each other as often as you’d like.

As always, his heart stutters when he lands a few feet from you. The tension drains from his shoulders even as he witnesses drops of sweat being flung off his jaw from the impact of landing and coloring the light gray pavement darker.

You look so, so pretty in your sundress and Katsuki’s stomach swoops when a sweet smile lights up your features. You reach out a cup of ice cream for him to try, teasing him for looking like he’s just taken a shower but he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and takes a bite of the treat. Katsuki practically moans when cool cream melts on his tongue. He feels infinitely better.

The sun beats down harshly on you both, but it brightens your eyes and the playful way you blow a coy kiss at him when you part ways leaves him with fingers crunching the empty cup and pants that fit a bit too snug. God, he’s disgustingly in love with you.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Kat?” Your concerned tone brings him back to the present. Katsuki can’t stand another minute with your clothes on and hauls you up with a rough grip to the backs of your thighs. You yelp in surprise and scramble to hold onto his shoulders as he strides towards your bedroom.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to smell this way, but you’re gonna keep your eyes on me and I’m fuckin’ you until you pass out. Understood?”

How could you ever hope to say no?

When you’re both naked and tangled in the sheets, Katsuki pushes one of your legs to your chest, curls his fingers around your throat, and pushes his forehead against yours as he stretches your tight pussy out completely with his thick cock. He stays true to his word, hand gripping your jaw and forcing your eyes to stay locked with his own ferocious stare when you grit your teeth and cum.

Then he kisses your forehead afterwards when you’re fast asleep.

Muscle memory tilts Shouto’s head to the side as he leans closer to sniff you curiously, an adorable habit that he’s never been able to break when he wants answers to something.

“What is that?”

“What is what, Sho?”

“You smell like the end of a campfire. Why?”

You raise an eyebrow and saunter closer to where he sits at his desk, his office quiet with most heroes currently out of the building. You step around the corner of his desk and hop up on the edge to sit next him, feet kicking gently.

“That’s important to you? A campfire? Huh I would’ve thought you’d smell something like soba,” you comment with a shrug, half smile tugging at your lips.

Now Shouto’s thoroughly confused.

“I don’t understand. Why would you smell of soba? Are you alright?” Shouto sounds as deadpan as usual, if not slightly concerned. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, staring at you as if he could find the answer by checking out your body. It makes you laugh.

Animatedly, you explain to him about the new “perfume,” Mina let you try. Apparently, whoever wears it prompts the object of their affections to smell whatever scent is important/attractive to them. And suddenly Shouto gets it

“Oh, I see,” he says with an understanding nod. He can narrow it down specifically as to why you smell of a campfire on a cold night.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Sho, are you sure we can’t just use your quirk to roast these marshmallows? It’s so much faster!” You protest halfheartedly, but you’re already stabbing one of the fluffy sweets with a stick, assembling a second one for Shouto.

“No. This will be more fun, I promise. I watched Touya-nii and the others do this once, it seemed as if they were very happy afterwards.” Shouto flicks his hand and fire shoots towards the pile of sticks, engulfing them until a decent fire roars.

This sobers you considerably, and Shouto sits down next to you, accepting the offering of marshmallow on a stick happily and oblivious to the depressing sentiment he just offered.

So, you roast marshmallows. You tease each other and laugh as you assemble the s’mores and then lean into Shouto’s left side to fend off the chill of the autumn night afterwards. The stars are brighter away from the city and Shouto has always enjoyed the quiet of the countryside. His heart is close to bursting from his chest every time you laugh and he blurts what’s on his mind.

“I love you.”

It comes out of nowhere and Shouto only feels nervous for a few seconds before you return his feelings. Shouto’s dragging you into the tent before you can blink.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

In hindsight, at least to Shouto, he understands exactly why you smell like a campfire. With slightly rosy cheeks and a matter of fact tone, he recounts the memory for you and he’s sure his hair’s about to catch fire from the way you’re looking at him.

Without caring to lock the door, the two of you end up reliving part of that memory.

Shouto pushes you until you’re flat on your back on his desk, sliding your pants off and making sure your ass is on the edge of it. He drops to his knees and eats your pussy until your thighs squeeze his head.

And when you beg him to fuck you, he bends you over the desk and presses his cock inside you roughly. The snaps of his hips are frantic, and when there’s a knock at the door, all Shouto does is cover your mouth with one hand and keep going until you’re seeing stars.

“Denki!”

Said blonde whips around at the muffled call of his name. Denki feels his smile aching in the apples of his cheeks as he watches you weave through the crowd of people on the dance floor to get to him. You grin in return and wave warmly, which makes his pulse run overtime.

“Baby!” Denki almost squeals, yanking you in for a crushing hug when you get close enough. “You made it! I thought you got lost,” he says teasingly against your ear and you lean back to laugh and punch him in the arm. You crowd into his space once again so he can hear you but an overpowering and delicious scent of coffee and rain pushes up Denki’s nose.

He startles, head jerking back and brows shooting up. Your expression turns questioning but Denki cuts you off before you can speak.

“Holy shit baby, you smell super good. Like, fucking amazing! What are you wearing? It makes me want to rip your clothes off,” He says enthusiastically, tangling your hands together in the process.

“Oh! It’s this new perfume. Well, technically it’s not a perfume but honestly I didn’t think it would work! I assumed it was a scam.” You give him a run down of how it’s supposed to work and he suddenly comes to the realization of why you smell like coffee and rain of all things that could be important to him.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Oww,” Denki whines, sticking his tongue out and fanning it quickly.

“Did you burn your tongue?” You bump his shoulder playfully, taking care not to spill your own coffee. “I told you it would be hot, it’s a latte Denki,” you scold him good naturedly, trying not to laugh. He pouts at you, blowing into the lid in hopes to cool it off.

“Well I didn’t expect it to be the surface temperature of the sun!” Denki protests, gingerly taking another sip and humming in contentment when he finds it’s cooled off enough to be drinkable. You laugh again, but then Denki almost runs into your back when you stop abruptly in front of the glass door exit.

“It’s raining! Shit, I didn’t bring an umbrella. How are we supposed to make it back to the station?”

Denki studies the way it’s pouring cats and dogs, before making a noise of triumph and pointing to a bench under an awning not too far away.

“We can go wait for a bus over there!”

You side eye him. “Fine, but if I spill my coffee, you’re buying me a new one.”

The two of you take off, and in true Denki fashion, he trips and spills his coffee everywhere. By the time you both make it to the awning, you’re both soaked to the bone and breathless from laughing.

“Here,” you offer Denki your coffee with a grin, water dripping from the ends of your hair.

“You don’t have to share baby, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. I love you, Denki.”

Your boyfriend short circuits.

“Dammit Denki! Those were the only two lampposts on this street, now I can’t see anything!”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Denki blinks the memory away and spins you, pulling your back flush to his chest. His body is a long, lean line of muscle as he moves your bodies to the beat and murmurs in your ear.

“Let me take you home and show you just how well this perfume works on me, my dick is hard as a fucking rock baby,” Denki giggles, squeezing your hips when you shove your ass back into his pelvis.

The two of you abandon your friends quick enough to race home, stripping carelessly in your living room until Denki can bend you over the armrest of the couch. He guides his cock inside you unhurriedly, pushing until his pelvis is nestled snug to your ass.

A breathy moan escapes him, and then he’s fucking your pussy as if he could never get enough.

He never will.

Hitoshi’s exhausted when he gets home from work late that night. Being an underground hero is rewarding, but it certainly comes with its downfalls.

He closes the front door delicately and toes off his shoes by the door. It doesn’t take long for him to make his way down the hall and into your bedroom, a tiny half smile worming its way into his expression despite his bone aching weariness when he spots you sound asleep in bed. He pauses to stare at you for a moment.

Hitoshi then showers as fast as humanly possible before crawling under the blankets and curling an arm around your waist, tugging you close until he can nose at the back of your neck. You sigh in your sleep and smuggle closer into his embrace.

Hitoshi trails his nose down the side of your neck and he freezes once he gets to your shoulder. You smell….good. Insanely fucking good, and he can’t quite pinpoint the specific scent but it’s soft and warm and maybe even a little musky. It sends warm blood rushing south and his cock twitches with interest.

He wracks his brain and the only thing he can associate with the scent is your cat, Kiko, when she was a kitten and you first brought her home.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi’s in the middle of playing a game when you return home that day, calling out for him to come to the living room for a second.

“Why?” He yells back. He’s just about to finish this round.

“Just come out here you dick!”

Hitoshi rolls his eyes, but is amused nonetheless by your slightly frustrated tone. He pauses his game and makes his way to where you wait, but stops in his tracks, lips parting in shock and eyes going wide when he sees what you’re holding.

You’re cradling an itty bitty, all black, fluff ball of a kitten in your arms. You grin delightedly at his shocked expression and hold her out almost as if you’re offering her to him.

“You wanted a kitten right? An all black one, like the one you had as a kid at Aizawa’s.”

Hitoshi manages to close his mouth and nod, cautiously reaching out to take the small creature and cradle her to his chest.

He…can’t believe you remembered. You remembered how much his cat had meant to him and went out of your way to find this kitten.

“Thank you,” he says softly, petting the purring kitten’s head with one finger. You step closer and do the same, scratching under her chin until she meows.

“What should we name her?”

“Kiko,” Hitoshi responds with no hesitation, glancing at you for approval and you smile back at him.

“I love it.”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi blinks back to the present, the fond memory lingering at the edges of his mind. He remembers how his heart squeezed against his rib cage in the best kind of way that day and how he knew then he wanted to marry you.

“Baby,” Hitoshi whispers lowly as he kisses your cheek. You stir enough to lazily flip over and hum in question. “I love you, so much.”

“Mm, love you too Hitoshi,” you mumble, sleepy rasp coloring your voice.

Hitoshi bends down to kiss you sweetly, encouraging you to throw a leg over his hips and straddle his waist. He settles you on top of him and wiggles a hand between you to shove his briefs down, cock stiff since he first smelled you, and slides your panties to the side.

Your limbs are still laced heavy with sleep when Hitoshi helps you sink down on his cock. You melt into his chest, face buried in his throat and arms locked around his neck.

He bends his knees and grips your ass to help you sensually ride him, rocking up into you at a leisurely pace until the warmth finally bubbles over the edge and you cum with a shiver and he follows right behind you.

When he asks you about it the next day, it all clicks into place when you give him the watered down version of how the “perfume” works.

He hums noncommittally before asking you to wear it again.

[stormsies]

Sexy to Someone

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

summary: reader attends her first Devils game as Luke’s girlfriend, though she can’t help but get a little self conscious along the way

a/n: i didn't intend for this to be this long but i just had sm fun writing it. there's a short lil epilogue at the end of this bc i was in a silly goofy mood! (also for the sake of this, pls pretend Jack did not get injured this season T-T)

warnings: insecure reader, allusions to sex, but this is mostly fluff!

wc: 2.4k

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

You had been to a handful of Devils games in your lifetime. It seemed only natural—and like a requirement to being a citizen of New Jersey. Plus, hockey was a sport you genuinely enjoyed - you could recall a number of evenings spent at The Rock, nursing an overpriced beer while sitting next to your girlfriends. 

But you could confidently say you had never been to a Devil’s game while dating one of the players.

Luke and your relationship was still a fairly new, delicate thing. So new, that you still found yourself pinching yourself at the realization that he was really yours. And so new, that you honestly felt nervous when he personally asked you to come to one of his games. Although his shy little grin had tugged on your heart strings and melted away any cause for concern.

So, you had agreed, starting to feel the excitement of being able to cheer for your boyfriend in person. 

Luke had breathed a sigh of relief when you told him you’d come, “Thank god - I already bought the tickets.” 

“So, where am I sitting?” his eagerness had made you laugh.

“Right at the glass,” he smiled down at you.

Now it was your turn to breathe a sigh of relief. When Luke had popped the question, your immediate anxiety had been prompted by the prospect of possibly sitting with the other WAGs. You felt like you still didn’t even deserve to call yourself one, and the idea of being introduced to any of the women sounded like the most intimidating trial you could possibly be faced with. 

“Oh wooooooow,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect, teasing Luke. “Never been that close before.” Which was true, you were used to cheaping it out in the nosebleeds.

“Only the best for you,” Luke wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, “besides, wanna see my girl up close.”

You could get used to being called, “his girl.”

Now you stood in your apartment, getting ready to support Luke in person against the Columbus Blue Jackets. Standing in front of your full-length mirror, you pulled his jersey over your head, recalling his reaction when he first discovered you owned it. That had been back when you were only friends, still tiptoe-ing around your feelings for one another.

Luke had been over at your apartment, rifling through your closet when you told him you’d had a spare rain jacket he could borrow on a particularly rainy spring day. It was an oversized, well-loved thing that used to be your dad’s; but in his pursuit to find the jacket, his eyes skimmed over a familiar white jersey sporting the number 43.

He couldn’t contain the shit-eating grin that slowly spread across his face (or the light blush that tinged the tips of his ears) at the realization that you owned his jersey. You had worn his name and his number. The thought was enough to make him delirious - though, he’d never tell you that seeing as you were only friends, much to his dismay. 

Carefully, he took his jersey off the hanger and called to you from the other room, “Y/N! Think I found it…is this it?”

When you entered your room and saw him standing there, holding his own jersey, your face turned beet red. Suddenly, you wished that your floor would open up and swallow you whole. 

“Luke…” was all you could think to muster up. 

“Didn’t know you were such a fan,” he laughed, “I can sign it for you if you want!”

“Get out.” you deadpanned, though there was no bite to your words.

It only made Luke throw his head back, laughing even harder.

Now, instead of feeling astronomical levels of embarrassment, you could look back on the memory and laugh too. 

Surveying yourself in the mirror, you straightened out the white New Jersey Devils jersey that you were now wearing. The sweater was accompanied by a simple pair of black leggings and a pair of red converse, though you felt there was something missing.

“Oh,” you murmured to yourself, rummaging through a drawer to find the pièce de résistance.

You placed the devil horn headband atop your head like it was a crown, careful not to ruin your meticulously braided hair. 

The headband was something you wore to every game you attended with friends, one of them claiming that it was the statement piece that pulled the entire ensemble together. You had laughed then, sure that you all looked ridiculous in your devil horns, red and white striped overalls, and red heart-shaped sunglasses. But that was just your group’s thing - going all out for the games. It had become somewhat of a tradition that you didn’t wanna break, even if you were attending this one alone.

You heard your phone chime, perched on your nightstand, announcing a text from the man of the hour:

Lukey ♥️: Excited to see you ;) 

You feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, picking up your phone to quickly shoot a text back before his pre-game warmups begin.

Y/N: Excited to watch you play! About to leave, see you soon 🫶

Though you’d have no way of knowing it, your words warmed his heart and sent a wave of motivation coursing through Luke. He’d be sure to give you a show.

Closing your phone, you took one more look at yourself in the mirror before deciding that you looked good enough. It wasn’t like you could spend any more time mulling over your appearance if you wanted to make it in time to see warm-ups. Turning on your heel, you quickly grabbed your keys and purse, mentally preparing yourself for the Tuesday evening Newark traffic.

Prudential was buzzing, much like your thoughts at the moment.

The atmosphere of the stadium was electric, just like it had been during every other game you’d attended. But as you walked through the concourse in search of your section, you found your attention being drawn to the other attendees - mainly, the other women.

As you made your way to your seat, you passed by several stunning women, many not in jerseys, but in figure-flattering, red dresses paired with custom-made NJ varsity-style jackets. Others donned sleek black bodysuits and sparkling red boots, while some sported white and red-accented sweaters paired with black leather pants.

It was then that the earth-shattering realization settled upon you that you didn’t look like a WAG, you looked like - well, just a fan. 

Were you supposed to dress up like them? Of course you were, you were Luke’s girlfriend now. You had become so accustomed to wearing your usual spirit wear that you hadn’t even stopped to consider what Luke would think. Would he be embarrassed by you? You felt your face heat up, thinking about the hip-hugging black dress you had hidden in the back of your closet. 

Why didn’t you wear that? It would have gone nicely with that red cardigan…

As your mind was filled with all the possible outfit combinations you could be wearing besides the one you currently found yourself in, you quickened your pace, eager to find your seat and settle in. 

When you finally find it, just behind the glass as Luke had said, your nerves ease for a moment, replaced by the thrill of sitting so close to the ice for the first time. Before your mind has the chance to wander again, warm-ups begin and the team begins to trickle out onto the ice.

You feel your heart quicken as you spot Luke, his tall figure effortlessly gliding across the ice. He’s followed by Jack, who spots you before his brother can. Jack gives Luke a nudge to the shoulder, nodding his head in your direction as you offer up a shy wave.

“Oh wow, she actually came!” he teases.

Luke rolls his eyes as he skates towards you, “Of course she did…”

You watch as Luke draws closer, first making a pit stop to throw some pucks over the glass to a group of kids near you. Your heart warms at their shrieks of glee and Luke’s subtle smile.

When he reaches you, Luke’s grin only widens as he takes you in. You feel your face warm again, once again remembering your less than glamorous outfit as Luke's eyes rake over you. There’s something unreadable in his eyes, though he breaks eye contact to toss a puck over the glass to you, “Got something for you,” he calls.

You reach up, catching the sleek black puck with ease, “Luke, you could get me one of these anytime,” you laugh, “And you better go! Get your head in the game!” you tease, but his lingering presence makes you glance over your shoulder, growing more self-conscious under the curious eyes that watch your interaction. You couldn't help but worry about the potential rumors circulating about your relationship—though Luke seemed completely unbothered by it.

“Just tryna give you the whole experience,” he replies, beginning to skate backwards towards his team once more, “Meet me outside the locker room and I’ll sign it for you.” he winks, turning on his skate and leaving you once more.

You bring the puck closer to you, smiling to yourself over his antics.

Maybe it was the fact that you had the best seats in the house, or that Luke scored both a goal AND an assist—sending you jumping out of your seat—or even that Mrs. Fields won the dessert race for the first time all season (you honestly couldn’t believe your eyes). Whatever it was, you could confidently say this was the best hockey game you’d ever been to. And being able to call one of the star players your boyfriend? Definitely a nice bonus.

The crowd was brimming with excitement at the conclusion of the game, beating the Blue Jackets healthily with a final score of 5-3. You hung back in your seat for a while, waiting for the stadium to empty a bit more before you made your way to the locker room as Luke had instructed.

Now, you stood in the hallway outside the room, fiddling with your puck while you waited for Luke to exit. You were filled with a strange mix of nerves, excitement, and pride. 

Being able to watch Luke do what he loves in person was like nothing you’d seen before, and the fact that he wanted you there–really wanted you to see him–made your heart swell.

But then, you began to remember the look he had given you upon seeing you at the glass–that unreadable expression. Was it embarrassment over you? Your appearance? He had definitely expected you to be wearing something different–something nicer.

As you start to contemplate whether or not you should take off your head band, you hear the locker room door swing open. Luke steps out, and any exhaustion from the intense game he’d just plays feels like it leaves his body upon seeing you standing there, waiting for him eagerly. 

“There you are, you did amazing tonight! I mean seriously, you-” your praise is cut off by Luke, who quickly breaches the distance between you two and pulls you into a hug, lifting you up off the floor.

“S’cause you were here.” he mumbles against you

You giggle, “No come on, that was all you Luke.” You feel him grin into the crook of your neck.

He sets you down, pulling back to look down at you, “Maybe, but seeing you in the stands is definitely a huge motivator,” he brings a hand up to fiddle with your devil horns, “You look adorable, by the way.”

“No- I,” squirming, you scoff at his words, “I’m sorry I didn’t wear something…I don’t know? Sexier? I kinda look like a dork…especially compared to some of these other women.” Your voice grows quieter, losing more and more confidence as you ramble on. Your eyes find your feet, focusing on your red shoes–though the color just feels gaudy now. Luke laughs.

“Baby, are you kidding me?” You feel a hand grasp your chin, Luke gently pulling you up to meet his eyes. “You’re already wearing the sexiest thing you could be–-my name on your back.”

You shake your head as if it will rid you of the blush settling across your face, “Luke…”

“Seriously Y/N. When I saw you at the glass during warm-ups I had to get out of there quick!” he chuckles, “You have no idea what seeing you wearing my jersey does to me.”

You swat at his arm playfully, because you are still in public after all. Though you’d be lying if you said hearing his words didn’t give you a boost of confidence. It was exactly what you’d needed to hear. 

“These horns are a nice touch too. Always thought that was cute…kinda your thing.” he smiles down at you, and you can tell by the look in his eyes that you mean it.

“Alright alright,” you take his large hand in your own, “I get it…you ready to go celebrate?” You were fully anticipating Luke would want to go out with Jack and his other teammates to keep the good vibes going. He blows out a puff of air and grips your hand, leading you down the hallway, “M’ready to go home baby. Just wanna celebrate with you.”

You hum, feeling the cool air fan over you as you two exit the stadium, “I think that can be arranged.”

“Good, I need you all to myself tonight.” Luke leans down to pepper a few kisses to your face while you giggle. “Maybe you can keep this on too,” he runs a hand through your hair, touching the headband again, “think you’d look pretty sexy wearing it while we-”

“Luke!” you squeal, covering your face with your hands, the two of you laughing the entire way to your car.

Epilogue:

Pulling into your apartment’s parking garage, your ears perk up at Luke’s voice, who had opted to take a short nap while you navigated the late night traffic.

“We could hear the crowd going crazy during the second intermission, what happened out there?” he asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

You smirk at the realization you’d be the one to tell Luke this earth-shattering news, “Oh…Mrs. Fields won the dessert race.”

You can practically feel Luke pause, his entire body turning towards you, “What?!”

“Yup.”

He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, “No wonder we played so good.”

“Hey! Thought it was because of me,” you poke at him, teasing once more.

“Oh of course babe,” he grins, “You AND the cookie.”

[outoftheseine]

- AZRIEL “THE SHADOWSINGER” FIC RECS 2 -

my broody husband | note: please be aware of the authors’ warnings before reading. fics include canon tw’s like: violence, death, grief. some fics have 18+ content so minors please DNI.

part one | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

my heart has wings • azriel x reader

↳ by @kymawrites

i got cursed like eve got bitten • azriel x rhysand’s sister!reader

↳ by @daycourtofficial

birds of a feather | we should stick together • azriel x reader

↳ by @serpentandlily (very angsty, unrequited love, death)

cauldron-born | part two • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @itsswritten

only in my dreams • azriel x reader

↳ by @really-fanny-longbottom (angst)

stranded • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @mcuamerica

exiled by fire • azriel x vanserra!reader

↳ by @acotar-writing

and i wouldn’t marry me, either | part two • azriel x reader

↳ by @bluetimeombre

farewell, my love • azriel x reader

↳ by @allhopesforlove

blessed mistakes • azriel x reader

↳ by @mellowmusings

despite the hatred, despite the love | part two | part three • azriel x reader

↳ by @lidiasloca

scattered vows | part two • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @azrielslightintheshadows

betrayal • azriel x oc

↳ by @liahaslosthermind

can’t bring myself to hate you • azriel x reader

↳ by @tadpolesonalgae

the spymaster’s secret • azriel x reader

↳ by @liahaslosthermind

silence | part two | part three • azriel x healer!reader

↳ by @azmageddon

sunlight in burgundy | part two • azriel x reader

↳ by @svearehnn

god’s game • azriel x oc

↳ by @toodelusionalforreality

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

anything for you • azriel x reader

↳ by @kymawrites (hurt/comfort, fluff, bad periods)

not me • azriel x reader

↳ by @azsazz (smut, angst but fluff at the end)

at the sake of you • s&r officer!azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @websterss (angst, car accident, fluff)

a helping hand • azriel x reader

↳ by @inkedinshadows (angst, comfort)

he’s my mate • azriel x reader

↳ by @moosesarecute (angst, torture, fluff, comfort)

paper trail • azriel x reader

↳ by @acotarxreader (fluff, angst, comfort, tw: dv)

i only pray, don’t fall away from me • azriel x reader

↳ by @ceoofyearning (hurt/comfort, anxiety, nightmares)

centuries coming • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @parkerslatte (angst but happy ending)

dinner and dessert • azriel x pregnant!oc

↳ by @ninthcircleofprythian (smut)

drifting away • azriel x reader

↳ by @solbaby7 (angst, mental health issues)

“i think you are pretty attractive yourself” • azriel x reader

↳ by @narnianflame (fluff)

here without you • azriel x reader

↳ by @readychilledwine (angst)

until the last breath • azriel x reader

↳ by @inkedinshadows (angst, death)

i love hate you • azriel x reader

↳ by @mika-no-sekai-blog (angst, jealousy, fluff at the end)

the other woman • azriel x necromancer!reader

↳ by @tadpolesonalgae (angst, violence)

confession • azriel x reader

↳ by @harrystylesfan2686 (very fluffy)

is it love, or just the fear of loneliness? • azriel x reader

↳ by @lidiasloca (angst, doubts, fluff)

love in ink • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @itsswritten (angst, rejection, blood)

his shadows • azriel x reader

↳ by @cyripticchronicler (fluff, slight angst, a little possessive!azriel)

no damsels here • azriel x reader

↳ by @olive-main (fluff, pining)

in every universe • azriel x reader

↳ by @illyrianbitch (fluff)

by the candlelight • azriel x reader

↳ by @manicmanuscription (suggestive, pining)

flicker out • azriel x reader

↳ by @thelov3lybookworm (angst but happy ending)

healing • azriel x reader

↳ by @cyripticchronicler (angst, torture, comfort, tw: sa)

warm • azriel x reader

↳ by @redheadspark (fluff)

weight in gold • azriel x seraphim!reader

↳ by @yiiyiiwrites (hurt/comfort, angst)

frosted hearts • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @moonlitstoriess (angst, comfort, smut)

a raging storm • azriel x reader

↳ by @svearehnn (angst)

lay your hand in mine • azriel x reader

↳ by @kymawrites (violence, hurt/comfort, smut)

escaping • azriel x reader

↳ by @eviesaurusrex (fluff)

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Got Jealous Of His Twin Brother”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, slight Yuuji x Reader but we all know who you’re really here for, Sukuna is down bad, narration is mostly from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.80k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna is a fucking geinus.

His plan is full proof. His brothers put him in charge of buying the tickets for some stupid ass movie Yuuji wants to go see, and you always write your work schedule down on the calendar taped to the fridge. Sure, yeah, maybe he had to call out sick for today because this was the only day that Choso had work and you didn’t, but now he knows that his plan will fall perfectly into place. Yuuji is already at the apartment, you’ll come downstairs eventually, and Yuuji will invite you to come to the movie in Choso’s place, making it look like a total coincidence and definitely not something he’s been meticulously planning all week.

Could he have just, I don’t know, asked you to go on a date with him? Of course not, that’s fucking ridiculous. This makes so much more sense.

I mean, you absolutely loved The Human Centipede, definitely weren’t covering your eyes in terror and disgust when he showed it to you, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll just adore Human Earthworm. Hah! What a fuckin’ joke, you’ll be dragging Sukuna out of the theatre within five minutes and begging him to take you out somewhere else without his annoying twin brother.

It’s perfect.

Him and Yuuji are lounging on opposite ends of the couch while Yuuji is going on and on about an Elden Ring boss he can’t beat. Sukuna has his boots propped up on the coffee table and his arms resting behind his head as he half listens to his brother, and more so keeps an ear out for your footsteps upstairs.

“I was gonna try and beat her without summons but she’s kicking my ass, how many tries did it take you?”

“One.”

“Ugh!” Yuuji flops backwards on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and shoving it over his face, his defeated whines muffled through the plush cotton, “She’s so impossible!”

Footsteps, finally. As you walk into the living room Yuuji uncovers his face, and you stop dead in your tracks, pointing at him, and then his brother, back and forth a few times before rubbing your eyes.

“Holy shit, there’s two of you?”

Oh yeah, I never mentioned my family huh?

Sukuna just gives you a smug smirk, “Three, but the emo one couldn’t make it.”

Yuuji perks up, jolting upright on the couch and giving you a bright smile, “Hi! I’m the normal one!”

You pull a chair out from the kitchen table, plopping yourself down into the wooden seat, “I think I’m gonna faint.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Sukuna is… a fucking idiot.

He knew his brother had a bubbly personality and could get along with literally anyone, but how was he supposed to know that you two would hit it off so well? Yuuji is pulling out all the stops, holding the door open for you, offering to pay for your popcorn, god it’s like he’s trying to get on Sukuna’s nerves.

Granted, it’s not like Sukuna told him that he likes you, but I mean for fucks sake that’s his twin brother! Shouldn’t he have some sort of sixth sense for this kind of thing?

That pink haired fucker has you wrapped around his little finger, you’re looking at him with googly eyes and cheesing like it’s fucking picture day. Ridiculous. Why don’t you ever smile like that for him? He’s funny!

I’m never letting him in the apartment again.

The three of you walk up to the top row of the nearly empty theater, Sukuna making sure to sit right between you and Yuuji. Previews are rolling on the screen as Sukuna is trying his damndest to hide the scowl on his face, his large arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the way the large screen reflects different colors into your eyes. He didn’t really think this far ahead, he’s got you next to him at the movies but… what now? He’s mentally kicking himself enough as it is for not considering his overly charismatic brother, and now he’s realizing that he doesn’t even know what his own intentions are.

Did he just want to take you somewhere? Is he trying to sleep with you? Does he want to be… romantic with you?

God, what has he become? He’s supposed to be the tough fucking scary guy and he’s not only getting shown up by his nerdy brother, but also getting nervous at the thought of making a move on you.

Yuuji flings popcorn in your direction, making you squeal out a giggle as it gently lands in your hair. Sukuna groans, hardly paying attention as he’s deep in thought, running his finger through your hair and flicking the popcorn away. He’s so consumed in his own head that he completely misses the blush that tints your cheeks at his tender touch.

Should I have even bothered with this? I feel like staying at the house would’ve been better at this point.

A piece of popcorn flies into his eye.

“Ugh,” This is so stupid, Sukuna rubs his eyelid with his thumb, “Watch it, brat.”

Yuuji tosses his hands up defensively and you giggle again, leaning over the armrest and placing your pointer finger on Sukuna’s cheek, tilting his face to turn towards you. Have your eyes always been that bright?

“Ooh, bullseye.” He can feel your breath fanning on his face, you’re so close, but just as abruptly as you leaned in, you lean back into your seat. God, he wants more than anything to tell you to come back, but the words wouldn’t be able to escape his lips if he tried. Unfortunately, all he manages to do is glare down at you and make you shift awkwardly under his gaze, mumbling out a quick apology.

Fuck. I think I scared them.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

From what you’ve been able to gather, this movie is weird. Is it horror or romance? You’ve been having trouble paying attention, far too distracted by Yuuji leaning over the very annoyed looking Sukuna to excitedly whisper tidbits about the movie to you. But every time you look over to Yuuji your eyes can’t help but wander to Sukuna’s profile, the flashing lights of the large screen illuminating his tattooed skin, his bottom lip tutting out to blow the loose strand of his pink hair resting on his brow out of his eyes-

Ah dammit, I’m doing it again.

You’re so confused. Sukuna has been giving you mixed signals all night, sweetly running his fingers through your hair one moment, then glowering at you like he wants you dead the next. He’s so unpredictable, and you’ve been so distracted by him all evening that you’ve hardly been able to pay any attention to poor Yuuji, giving him bright smiles and fake laughs while your mind is completely consumed with Sukuna.

He’s been so grumpy the entire evening, you’ve been feeling like he’s… disappointed? Is he mad his other brother couldn’t come? Is he mad that you took the emo one’s place? Would he rather somebody else have gone to the movie with him? It was Yuuji’s idea for you to tag along, so it’s safe to assume that if Sukuna wanted you here he would have just invited you, right?

But then every now and again his eyes flicker to you, watching. Why is he looking at you like that? With his gaze so uncharacteristically soft, scanning your face like he’s searching for something, from the corner of your eye you can catch him looking at your lips.

Is there something on my face?

You’re ripped from your thoughts as a blood curdling scream erupts from the speakers, making you jump in your seat. You catch the tiniest glimpse of a smirk creeping on the corner of Sukuna’s lips as he sits like a rock, completely unbothered as per usual. You gently kick his foot under the seat, and he presses his large boot onto the top of your sneaker, pinning your shoe under his and keeping your foot locked in place under the sole of his steel toe boot.

You cross your arms over your chest, letting out a frustrated huff at him that only makes his grin grow wider, his face still pointed towards the large screen as he flashes his canines at you. He props his elbow on the armrest between you, resting his chin on the ball of his palm as he peers down at you with a smug grin.

“You ready to get out of here yet?”

Cocky fucker, I swear he gets off on making me mad.

“No.” You snap back defensively.

Unbeknownst to you, his question was not rhetorical. But you’re in it now, determined to sit through this entire movie even if it kills you. You’re bothering him enough just by being here, the last thing you want to do is make him feel like he needs to leave.

His smirk shifts into a grimace as he taps his boot on top of your shoe. You slide your sneaker away but he loops his calf around yours and pulls your leg towards him, gently kicking your foot. If you didn’t know better you’d almost think he was… trying to play footsies with you? You’re not really sure what he’s trying to do, all you know is that he’s still leaning on the armrest between you and probably unintentionally pulling you closer by your leg.

Your arm brushes against his as you try to maneuver your elbow onto the armrest, quietly muttering to him “You’re hogging up all the space.”

He leans down slightly to whisper in your ear, “Tragic. Use the other one.”

You nudge his forearm with your elbow, “Just move your arm.”

He lets out a quiet “Tch” and raises his arm to rest over the back of your seat instead, “This better, brat?”

You nod your head as a blush creeps onto your cheeks, luckily hidden by the darkness in the room. When you relax back into your chair you can feel his arm pressing into the back of your neck and his fingers lightly graze against your shoulder. It feels… kinda comforting, you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lean into his touch and your heart starts to pound at the thought.

You don’t dare to look at Sukuna, deciding to quietly enjoy the moment. Which is a real shame, because if you did look at him there’s a chance you’d catch the way he’s gnawing on his bottom lip with a face that looks almost as flustered as your own.

He might be enjoying this more than you are, and he might even be thinking that having to sit through this movie might not be so bad after all.

A/N: POV you and Sukuna are two idiots who are into each other but neither of you have the balls to do something about it. Also writing Sukuna’s POV for the narration was SO FUN!!! We love our delusional king who sees you god forbid smile at another person and immediately assumes you’re in love with them Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[shotmrmiller]

A/N: I simply had to join on writing for John 'just the tip' MacTavish so. Here goes. Unedited, its horny its explicit yall know the deal. It was supposed to be a drabble and i got completely carried away. got me out the writing slump tho. any mistakes please ignore. CBF!Johnny because I say so.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.6K

Flipping through Netflix, you hear a rapt at the door. You turn to look at your dad, who gets up quickly as if expecting someone. 

“Johnny, my boy! I’m glad you could make it! Had me thinking you forgot all about us. Come on in!” Your dad pulls Johnny in for an affectionate embrace that he returns immediately.

“Och, yer aff yer heid! As if I could ever forget my second family!” Giving your dad a final pat on the back, Johnny steps back. “Now where’s my girl?” 

Lifting the hand holding the remote, you call out. “Present!” 

Johnny almost trips over the coffee table, rushing to you. He doesn’t wait for you to stand up, just snatches your wrist and lifts you for a hug— your socked feet dangling by his shins. With his strong arms wrapped around you, he pulls you close, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie,” he murmurs, “missed ye so much.” 

As you exhale a wheezy breath, you tell him, “I love you too, Johnny, but I can’t breathe.” One last squeeze, and a squealed “Johnny!” he finally relents, setting you down. 

Hands resting on your shoulders, his striking blue eyes lock onto your face, flicking across your features, as if he was re-memorizing what you look like. His intense gaze rushes blood to your cheeks, but don’t shrink under it. It wouldn’t be the first time your best friend teases you like this. “Somethin’ on my face, Johnny boy?” and bat your lashes at him, “I know I’m staggering to look at, but now you’re just being shameless.” 

He lets out a huff, a small smirk gracing his lips, and mumbles, “Don’t I know it.” Your taunting smile falls off your face at that. What? Before you can even ask him what he means by that, your dad calls him into the kitchen. 

“Johnny! Come get a beer, it’s about to be movie time!” Without breaking eye contact, he answers him, “Aye! Comin’!’ and with a finger tap to the underside of your chin, walks away. Heart pounding against your chest, you head towards your bedroom to get a blanket, hoping the little walk calms the butterflies in your stomach. 

What?

The movie is playing, and Johnny is curled up behind you on the reclined sofa, roughened palm resting on your thigh, occasionally squeezing it. You’re mortified at the slight arousal you’re feeling just at being caressed by Johnny. Johnny. Your best friend. Who has consistently had girlfriends, who will never look at you that way. You’ve never thought of him that way either, granted, but that’s what makes this so embarrassing. Maybe you’re ovulating, biology simply reacting in the presence of a virile male, or something. 

And then you feel the unmistakable bulge of his stiffening cock, faintly pressing against your arse. Gods. Heat radiating off of your face, you bite your lip and try to discreetly wiggle away, for his sake and yours. However, Johnny seems to disagree with your thoughts because he moves his hand from your thigh to grab your hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging into your hipbones, forcing you to be still.

He leans into your ear, warm breath tickling your cheek and softly whispers, “Dinnae move, hen,” and sluggishly starts to rock his hips, erection now firmly rubbing against your sleeping shorts. Johnny’s movements are imperceptible, nonexistent underneath your blanket. Not that it would matter, because the movie is reaching its climax, and all eyes are glued to the screen.

But your mind is solely focused on Johnny— the heat of his hands scorching against your skin, his prominent length hidden underneath his pajama bottoms grinding on you. 

“Lift yer leg a wee bit, hen.” Keeping a watchful gaze on your parents, you silently plead that they won’t notice as you hide your compliance under the guise of trying to make yourself comfortable. Once settled, you lowered your leg and had to bite your tongue with force, to keep the moan from slithering out of your throat. 

His cock, bare, right in between your thighs. Like warm velvet wrapped around steel, thick, heavy, tip pushing against your core with every minute thrust. Johnny moves even closer, arm tight around your waist, hand sliding into your bottoms, heading straight towards your soaked, swollen clit to rub feather-light delectable circles on it.

“I’m gonna stick just the tip in, a’right? I swear,” he says in a hushed tone, as he pulls back to lower the waistband of your shorts to rest on your upper thighs, “just,” he thrusts once, “the”, again, “tip.” and his leaking head slips into your hole— pushing it in until your walls flutter around it. 

“Ye feel incredible, squeeze that tight pus—” your dripping cunt cuts him off, drawing out a hiss of surprise from him. His subdued voice in your ear is so seductive, so bewitching, that you can’t help but clench around him. 

For most of the movie, Johnny languidly thrusts into you, truly keeping to his word. Just the tip— teasing you, making you drip onto the sofa, muted squishy, gooey noises coming from under your blanket, and you couldn’t be bothered by any of it. Flared, ridged head catching on your slippery lips with every drag of his cock. You’re drooling on your hand that covers your mouth beneath the snug blanket— struggling to hold back the mewls and whimpers threatening to escape. 

All of a sudden, Johnny mutters, “The movie’s about ta end, close yer eyes and keep completely still. Stabilize and deepen yer breathin’, hen.” Without hesitation, you do as he says, body going limp in compliance, the only tell-tale sign of your excitability being the rapid pulsing of your jugular on the delicate skin of your neck. 

The TV is turned off, and the living room goes completely silent, apart from the deafening sound of blood rushing in your ears. Johnny behind you feigns quiet snoring, so believable that if it wasn’t for his throbbing cock still at your entrance, you’d think he actually fell asleep.

Your dad’s poor imitation of a whisper cuts through the quiet.��

“They’re asleep, let’s just leave them here.” Footsteps shuffle as they tip-toe around you both, and as they get farther away, Johnny slowly moves his hand to cover yours, truly weighing down on it. The instant their door clicks shut, he uses his other hand to pick up your leg and throw it over your shoulder, and thrusts hard, deep, until his bollocks are flush against your arse. Your nails claw at the hand over your mouth as you scream, your gummy walls stretching against his assault— a burn so exquisite, pleasure teetering on the edge of pain, achingly delicious, it sends tendrils of ecstasy directly into your veins.

He lets out a guttural moan, one only you could hear, private, intimate. “It’s about time ye let me have this sweet pussy, hen.” One vicious thrust that punches the air from your lungs and rattles the sofa, and then another, when he finally speaks again. “Fuck, we hae ta do this when we are nae restricted, hm?” His hips start a slow rhythm, long, unhurried undulating thrusts, and every time he bottoms out, he grinds his pubic bone on your clit, the tip of his cock giving your cervix a lewd kiss. Every time he reaches the entrance of your womb, it feels like he wants to go in further, to go past the dead end, and your cock drunk mind only thinks about how you want him to do it, too. 

“Yer slobberin’ all over my hand, hen. S’that good, is it? Oooh, I ken it is. Only the best fer my girl, hm?” He hisses through clenched teeth, “I’m fuckin’ close. Come f’me. I’m not comin’ until ye cover my cock with yer cream, leave a white ring at the base.” His hips have been moving at the same exact speed he started at, not a stutter in his pattern. As if him fucking you into a puddle of arousal wasn’t taxing on his part. 

Then he does something different, something that threatens to snap that coil in your lower tummy, and along with it your sanity. He starts giving shallow thrusts, never pulling out more than halfway, and makes sure to rub against your clit, giving you that heavenly friction you need. It has you delirious, fervent, and you start moving your own hips, uncaring of how you must look.

Johnny moves his thumb down to your nub, drawing tight, precise, merciless circles on it, and you are thrown over the edge— more like kicked off by a spartan kick from how gut-wrenching your orgasm is ripped from you. Your pleasure is so acute, so powerful that there are needle-like pricks on the shell of your ears. Your body shakes underneath Johnny, pussy throbbing and pulsing with the aftershocks of your blinding climax. 

Drool escapes under Johnny’s palm, dripping down your cheeks and into your hair as you fall back, going completely limp, utterly spent. Finally getting back some coherency, you realize that Johnny’s gone soft inside of you, also drained, as he catches his breath holding himself over you. He removes his hand, uncaring that it’s sticky with your spit, and noses your cheekbone, nudging you to slant his lips over yours, curling his tongue against yours. He swallows the pathetic mewl you let out and presses one final kiss onto your lips. 

“I’ve missed ye, hen. I’m so happy to be here, with ye. Let’s move to your bedroom, and in 10 minutes, I’ll give ye a proper fuckin’.” 

Your eyes close shut as you let out a resigned but elated sigh. 

“I love you too, Johnny.” 

@rookiesbookies and forgive the tag but i had you in mind too @brewed-pangolin ill never do it again unprompted

part 2

[heesimp]

hiiii omg can you write about maybe an older heeseung and a younger reader

short lil scenario for you

-

“This feels wrong.”

“But so right, hm?”

You kiss just underneath his chin before looking back down at Heeseung’s lap where his cock has been taken out of his black slacks. He sits in the middle of his conference room with his door locked shut and window blinds drawn. He’s so turned on that he can’t think straight.

“You’re so young…”

“I’m twenty-one.”

“Yeah.” Heeseung chokes when you swipe his slit. “And I’m much older than you, for God’s sake.”

“Don’t older men like younger pussy?” you ask him with faux innocence, kissing his jawline until he’s shuddering beneath you. “I hear stories about that all the time, you know. You must like it too since you’re hard for me.”

Well, he can’t deny that.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” he makes you promise. Your eyes light up and you push yourself until you’re kneeling at his feet. “If the company finds out I’m screwing an intern, we’re both fucked.”

You lick him from his balks to his tip. “Don’t worry, Heeseung. I know how to keep a secret.”

[starcrossedslytherin]

The Marauder's Map

James Potter x Reader

WC: 6.9K

A/N: I feel like every few months or so I rise from the dead to post something, so here is a James fic I started, gods only knows when and have finally finished! Let me know your thoughts because I liked writing for James, I want to more.

Summary: James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter need help for a special resource for their pranks, so who better to go to than the best charms student Hogwarts has to offer- also the girl James seems to be in love with.

---

James was staring at you; you could feel it. 

You’ve always had a pretty good sense at telling when people were staring at you, but as you look up to meet James’ eyes for the fourth time today during breakfast before he quickly looks away, your stomach was swimming in nerves. 

“Lys, do I have something on my face?” You ask your friend Alyssa as you run a hand across your face, hopefully knocking away whatever has pulled James’ attention from the Gryffindor table to the Slytherin one. 

Alyssa furrows her brows but shakes her head. “None that I can see, why?” 

You frown. “Potter keeps looking at me.” 

“James Potter?” 

“Is there another Potter at this school that I haven’t met yet?” You press your lips together as Alyssa rolls her eyes. “Yes, James Potter.” 

She rolls her eyes before looking over at James. “I dunno, maybe he fancies you.” 

Her words cause your laugh to escape. “Are you mad? You think James Potter fancies me? James Potter?” 

“If we keep saying his full name like this, he’s bound to hear and look at us more.” Alyssa says before her eyes find the Gryffindor table again and a frown appears on her face. “Or rather they all will?” 

You pause in eating as you keep your eyes on Alyssa. “All of them?”

She tilts her head. “Well, James and Sirius are because they’re sitting on the side of the table that lets them, but Remus keeps turning back every once and while. The only one who hasn’t is Peter- oh, he’s doing it too. Yeah, it’s all of them.” You groan at her words, scooping the last bits of your breakfast into your mouth before hurrying to grab your things. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere they are not.”

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter watch as you practically run from your table. “You really think she’d help us?” Peter asks as he turns back to his food. 

James doesn’t look away from you until you were at the door of the Great Hall, looking at his table in confusion one last time before you’re gone. “I don’t see why not.” He finally says.

Remus chuckles under his breath. “Maybe because you just stared at her throughout her entire breakfast?”

Sirius took a bite of his cereal before pointing his spoon at James, talking through his food. “Yeah, that was creepy.”

James smacks his arm as Remus mumbles a ‘close your mouth’. “Well, I’ll just convince her then.” Remus, Sirius, and Peter all share a look as James leaves the table, knowing this could either end very well, or be a complete disaster. 

---

You end your escape in the library, finding a quiet table in the back as you finally let out a large breath and fall into the seat. You weren’t truly finished enjoying your breakfast, but you suppose at least now you can study in the library for a bit, hoping James and his friends focus their sights on someone else for the day.

Unfortunately, by the sight of James Potter sticking his head around the bookcase to your left, you realize that won’t be the case.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” You mutter to yourself and bury your face in your book. When you bring your head up, James stares back at you from across the table, shining his pearly white teeth as if this interaction between the two of you was normal. 

“Hello!” He says. You can’t help but just stare at him, blinking in confusion, but you don’t say anything. James’ smile slowly fades, and he clears his throat and furrows his brows. “I thought this would go easier.” He mumbles and you can just barely hear him.

You scoff, dropping your book on the table in front of you. “Okay, I think you’re going to have to try someone else if you want to add stalking to the list of hobbies of you and your merry men.”

James can’t help the upturn of his lips as he leans into the table. “Merry men?”

“Robin Hood?” You roll your eyes. “Robin Hood and the-”

“No, I uh, I get the reference. It’s just- you think I’m Robin Hood?”

This had to be the weirdest conversation you’ve ever had with James.

This had to be the weirdest conversation you’ve ever had.

“Why are you here?” you say slowly and cross your arms, choosing to lean back in your seat to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. 

James sat up, suddenly remembering why he had “stalking” you, as you put it, all morning. “Oh, uh,” He sucks in a breath. “How are you?”

You groan, throwing your hands in the air. “James Potter, we are 5th years now and have barely talked more than 20 times since day we met. I know you do not care how I am. Now. What. Do. You. Want?”

“We want your help with a prank.”

Now this sounds like James Potter and his “merry men”.

“A prank?” You ask, already skeptical of how you can be of help. “What kind?”

“It’s more of a resource, really.” He rubs the bottom of his face, staring off at your books in front of you in thought. You slap your hand over your books, causing the boy to finally meet your eyes. Your eyes flicker between his two hazel ones. 

“Why would you need my help with a resource for your prank? If it’s my house, there are loads of Slytherin’s and some of them might actually be willing to help you.”

“It’s not your house.” He shakes his head. You can’t stop yourself from watching the sight of his curly dark hair falling in front of his face. “You’re the best in our class at charms.”

“Any one of you is just as good as me.”

James shakes his head again, running a hand through his curls, ignoring the curls getting caught on his fingers as he pushes through. “No way. Remember last week? You were the only one in the class who didn’t walk out looking as orange as a pumpkin that lasted two days.”

“That’s because I was the only one who read the book.”

“No, it’s because you’re brilliant.”

You don’t have a response to James’ comment. It was obvious he was just trying to get on your good side so that you’d help with whatever this resource was. You hated the fact that it was working a bit. 

You sigh and push your books closed in front of you. “What is the resource?”

James’ face lights up and he quickly moves to the seat in next to you, pulling out a journal from his book bag. “That part is still a work in progress.” He flips through the pages, giving you a few quick glances at pranks he and his friends had come up with previously. You chuckle and shake your head. “Basically, what we are hoping for was a way to find anyone in the castle, wherever they are.”

He must be insane.

“What makes you think this would be something I knew how to do? I’m brilliant, Potter, but I’m not a bloody miracle worker.”

James was about to object as he turns to face you, but instead he just stares at you. Before you turn your head, James takes a sharp breath and pushes his glasses higher on his nose. “Well, we can work on it together. We’ll come up with something.”

“Potter…” you trail off, looking at the scrawled messy handwriting of the boy’s quick thinking on the page in front of you. You close the book. “Look, it sounds interesting. A challenge even, and I love challenges, but I don’t have time to waste with your silly little Gryffindor pranks. You’ll just have to find someone else or do it yourself.” 

James wants to object, saying you’re the best person for the task, but you were packing your things into your bag, and it wasn’t until you had almost left the table before he finally says, “We can use it to prank Snape.”

That got your attention.

It wasn’t a secret to everyone in Hogwarts that despite being in the same house, Severus Snape and you hated each other.

Your hand clenches and for a moment, James thinks he might have you. That is, until you turn around with a frown. “Sorry, Potter. Still not interested.”

---

“I told you she wouldn’t go for it.” Remus says, barely looking up at James over the book in his hand. 

James just grunts, keeping his glasses from slipping of his nose as he hangs upside off the couch, his curls reaching to the ground. “I don’t understand.”

“Why would she say no?” Sirius asks. He head was laying across Remus’ lap and he tries to annoy the boy while he’s reading by pushing the book away, but Remus is far too used to his antics as he slaps Sirius’ hand away without missing a word on the page. 

“Why would she say no!” James’ dramatic throw of his hands causes the other three boys to laugh at him.

They sit in silence for a moment, silently brainstorming where to go from here before Peter speaks up. “You didn’t flirt with her, did you?”

James stays silent. 

Remus, Sirius, and Peter can’t help themselves this time as their laughter filled the room, gathering the attention of other Gryffindor’s in the common room as James’ cheeks turn the darkest shade of red that they’ve ever seen.

“Blimey mate, what did you say?” Sirius chucks a pillow at James, and he can’t catch it in time, letting it smack his chest before he moves to sit up. 

“Nothing! I swear! I didn’t- I didn’t… I may have flirted just a tiny- a teensy tiny bit.” His voice is quiet at the end of his sentence out of embarrassment. 

If James thought his friends laughing at him earlier was bad, it was nothing compared to now. He does nothing but cover his face in his hands, waiting for the sounds to stop.

“What did you say?” Sirius jumps to the couch next to James, throwing his arm around his shoulders and bring him closer to his side. 

“Nothing!” James claims, but even he knows it was a lie. He sighs in defeat. “I just- I called her brilliant, that’s it.”

“Oh, Prongs, you might as well have gotten down on a knee and proposed!” Sirius claps him on the back before laughing at his best friend’s humiliation once more. Remus and Peter’s laughter grows with Sirius’ comment. James just shakes his head and heads out of the common room throwing his middle finger up to his friends.

He’d dealt with his friends joking around about his crush on Lily for years, but it was different with you.

That might be because James never told his friends about his crush on you, they just figured it out. Even before James knew.

Walking toward the black lake, wanting to get some fresh air, James stops at the sound of a familiar voice. He ducks behind a pillar.

“Snape, just leave her alone!”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that was your voice. He glances out, watching as you jog over to two other people. One of them obviously being Snape. The other James could barely make out, until Snape takes a step away from her and he realizes that she was your friend from breakfast. There’s an argument that James can’t hear from where he’s standing between you and Snape and Alyssa ducks behind you. You turn around, wanting to walk away with Alyssa before Snape pulls out his wand. 

James’ eyes widen and he reaches for his own, only to realize he left it in the common room in his quick leave. He curses himself, hoping you turn around before Snape curses you behind your back. Instead, Snape aims for Alyssa and before you can stop it or before James can sprint out from behind the pillar, Snape is holding Alyssa in the air above the water.

“Put her down!” you yell and point your wand at him. Snape can only snicker before he lets Alyssa fall right into the lake. “Lys!” You yell, knowing your friend isn’t the best at swimming. You jump in to help her out, and by the time you both are back on land, soaking wet, Snape was gone and James was helping you both out of the water. 

Once Alyssa was out first, you take James’ outstretched hand soaking his sleeves, but he doesn’t care. He makes sure you’re okay, but he’s stopped when you grab both of his arms, getting him to look you in the eyes.

“I’ll help you with that resource.” You tell him, tired of Snape bullying your friends and you. “I want this to be something that’s going to haunt Snape for years and years to come.”

James can only smile at you.

You smile back.

---

“Ok, just start again from the beginning.” You plead the four boys in front of you as you crowd around a table in the library as the 6th hour of reading resources starts. You’ve never really seen the group of friends really in action of planning their pranks, but keeping up with them as you flip through the library books you’ve all read from the shelves has been really hard.

“We want to be able to know where anyone is at any time.” Sirius says as he lays across the table, kicking his legs up in the air. You nod, looking down at the book pile in front of you as you pick up a book and toss it behind you where Remus is standing to let him put it back on the shelf.

“It only needs to be in the castle.” Peter points out, earning hums from his friends. No use for a prank resource outside of the castle, apparently. You toss two more books back.

“Oh!” You hear Remus say as you flip through pages, he glances over your shoulder, looking at the books you have. “We should have all the secret passages marked on it too!”

You sigh and add 4 books to your discard pile. You’re left with 3 books, each of them potentially having information you knew would be useful to the friend group, you just had to figure out what information. 

James slides into the seat next to you and you quickly meet his eyes. James’ sucks in a breath, not having expected to meet your eyes as he sat down. There’s a moment where James almost forgets his friends are in the room and you’re not just helping him. He only grounds himself back to reality when you turn your head, chewing on your lip nervously. “We uh, we were also thinking it can be something only we can use.”

James’ voice was quieter than he normally was, but it didn’t matter. 

You knew the perfect spell to use.

“The Homonculous Charm.” You tell the group, turning your book around and showing the marked charm to the others. “You cast it onto a blank parchment, and it tracks where everyone is around the castle, whenever, wherever, and whoever.” The group of boys in front you have different looks of astonishment. 

But, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that Remus, Sirius, and Peter were looking at the book in your hands and James, well, he was looking right at you.

You clear your throat, hoping to push the boy’s attention off of you. “All you have to do is cast the charm on a parchment and map the place.”

“Easy!” Sirius yells, giving Peter a high five. “Let’s cast it and get to pranking Snivellus!”

“Doesn’t look like its that easy, Pads.” Remus puts his hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he reads over the page you show them.

You nod your head. “If you want a place to show up on the map, you have to actually cast the charm in the place.” There were 4 groans from the boys, and you hold back a laugh. 

“That could take weeks.” James sighs, leaning his head back in the chair. “Do you know how big this castle is?”

“It wouldn’t take weeks, maybe just a few days and I’m sure you guys can do it.” You tell them, pushing on James’ shoulder. James’ frown turns up a little at your playfulness and you’re quick to pull your attention of him. You start to pull your things together and stand up. “Now, if we’re done here-”

“Wait, where are you going?” Sirius asks, tugging on your bag. 

You swat his hand off your bag. “Leaving. I helped and now you can prank Snape to your heart’s desire.”

“To our hearts desire?” James questions, standing up to be at your height. His eyes meet yours and there’s a pause in his speech before he practically drags his eyes away, forcing himself to look at the book. “Time would go a lot faster if you helped.”

You guffaw and throw yourself into the seat again. “You have like a million friends. Can’t you trick some of them into helping you?”

“We could.” Peter shrugs and moves to stand on the other side of the table than you, placing it between the two of you.

Sirius threw his arm around Peter. “But then you wouldn’t really get revenge on Snivellus.”

Remus stood next to them, his hands buried in his jeans as he smirks. “And isn’t that what you wanted when you agreed to help?”

James joins them as well, squishing together as all four stare directly at you with various forms of mischief on their faces. “So? What do you say?”

They were right.

Screw them, but they were right.

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s the plan?”

---

Alyssa had been laughing for what seemed like an hour as you both lay on your respective beds. You told her all about your little study session with the boys today and she apparently found it quite amusing what you’ve got yourself wrapped into. “It’s not funny, Lys.”

“Are you mad? You, being forced to spend as much time as you can with your crush and his best mates mapping the entire school to get back at Snape?” She chuckles. “This is the funniest thing that has happened to you since you blew up your book bag practicing for exams last year.”

“I don’t have a crush on James.” You groan, throwing your arm across your eyes, blocking the stray sunlight coming in from the window.

“James?” Alyssa asks seemingly confused. “I was talking about Sirius.”

You couldn’t help your snort of laughter at her comment. You knew she was joking, and she knew you were harboring secret feelings for the curly dark-haired, glasses wearing boy. “Can I just get some sleep?” You ask her, ignoring the fact it was barely dinnertime. “If I have to stay up all night mapping the castle with them, then I am sleeping now.”

“Fine by me.” Alyssa tells you, chucking a pillow at you before pulling out a book since she didn’t have plans to sleep early. You get smacked by the pillow and send a weak attempt at slinging it back at her before finally heading to bed.

---

“I’m going tonight.” James says to his friends the moment they step into the common room, making sure his voice is hushed. “If Y/N is going, then I’m going.”

His friends don’t bother hiding their laughs. “Mate, as if we would keep you from roaming the castle in private with the love of your life.” Sirius snickers, giving James a little push that has him falling onto the couch. “Besides, you only have the one invisibility cloak and last time we had 3 of us in there, Remus had his hand on my butt.”

“Remus would have his hand on your butt even if we didn’t have the cloak.” James grumbles, feeling Remus smack him in the back of the head. “Ow!” James groans, rubbing a hand on the back of his head. “Am I wrong?” He asks, only to look over and see Remus starting to lay across the couch coincidentally, or not, laying his head on Sirius’ lap. 

James rolls his eyes at his best friends before he pulls out his books, thinking he’s going to get some studying in before dinner. “You’re not going to get some sleep?” Peter asks, seeing his friend studying. James shakes his head, knowing if he tried to sleep right now, there would only be one person on his mind. 

---

This wasn’t the first time you had snuck out of the Slytherin common room, but this was the first time you were just standing around begging to be caught out of bed. You tap your foot, glancing every direction for any of the boys to come around the corner, but you didn’t see them. You were about to give up, not wanting to be caught by a professor. You had taken one step before James appears, standing right in front of you. His presence scares you and you can’t hold back the scream you release. 

James jumps at the sound. He should have figured you would’ve reacted to him taking off the cloak, but he didn’t expect you to start screaming. He jumps forward, covering your mouth with his hand as he presses you against the wall. “It’s just me! It’s James!” He whispers as loud as he can, wanting you to stop screaming but not wanting anyone else to hear. Your eyes flicker back and forth between his and when he was certain you were done screaming, he brings his hand away. He didn’t realize how close your bodies were to each other until you were looking at each other. A moment passes before James clears his throat. “Um, hi.”

The spell is broken as you shake your head, pushing him away gently and slapping his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you? Where did you even come from?”

James chuckles a bit at the situation, gripping the cloak in his hand as he puts his other on your arm to calm you down. “I’ll tell you.” He assures you. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

You just blink in confusion. James doesn’t say anything else before he throws the cloak around his shoulders, affectively leaving him as a floating head. You suck in a breath. “An invisibility cloak?” You had never seen one before. James liked looking at the amazed smile on your face, he hoped he see it again soon. 

“Who’s there!” James and you jump at the sound of a professor, obviously looking for the source of your scream from earlier. James was quick to pull you into him, wrapping the two of you in the cloak as you press your body against his. James’ arm wraps around your waist as he keeps the cloak closed and you both watch the professor pass right by, completely unaware of your presence.

James gives it a few minutes before he pulls the cloak off, slowly letting go of your waist. You exhale heavily, taking a step back from James. The two of you stand awkwardly next to each other, neither of you truly knew what to say to each other. 

“Nice cloak.” Your voice was higher than you’d like it to be but, in your defense, the closeness you had to James was still high on your mind.

James hoped the night light had hidden the blush on the cheeks that he knew was going to be there. “Thanks- Thank you.” He stumbled through, avoiding looking at you.

You suck in a breath, trying to think of what to say before forcing a smile. “Should we get going?”

“Yep. Yeah, let’s just uh…” 

James’ sentence had trailed off, but it didn’t matter as he pulled out a piece of parchment paper from his pocket. You raise a brow at it and cross your arms. “Is that supposed to be for the map?” James nods. “Potter, have you seen the size of this castle? One corridor wouldn’t even fit on that page.” 

James frowns. He thought the paper he brought was large enough, but you might have a point. You roll your eyes and take him by the arm to a nearby classroom, knowing the professor kept larger pieces of parchment on hand. James hoped greatly that you didn’t notice how eager he was to remain with your arm locked with his.

“Take this.” You hand James a folded piece of parchment, and being the curious person James Potter was, he let it unfold. The parchment kept unfolding until it was taller than him and then some, hitting the ground with a soft thud. He looks at you, widening his eyes. “You wanted a map.” You remind him. “Let’s just hope this one is big enough.”

---

You let James take the lead with holding the cloak, ready to throw it over you both the moment he needed, and you would cast the spell onto the soon-to-be map. Unfortunately, you both found yourselves quite bored with the task. “How’s Quidditch?” You ask James, desperate for a distraction. 

James smiles, glad to talk about a subject he enjoys. “Amazing, as usual. Haven’t lost yet this year.”

You smirk. “Well, that’s because you’ve haven’t played Slytherin yet.”

James has to hold back a laugh. “Please,” you bite your cheek hearing James’ playful tone. “We’ll beat Slytherin next weekend just as easily as we did Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.”

“I don’t know, we got a new seeker. Heard he’s quite good.” 

“Better than me?”

You choose to glance at him, and you’re not surprised to see the cocky smile sitting pretty on his lips. This time you don’t fight the smile on your face. “I’ve never seen you play, Potter. How am I supposed to know how good you are?”

James stops walking and it takes you a moment to notice before you stop as well. “You’ve never watched a Gryffindor match before?” James looks as if his head would explode.

“I’ve never even seen a Slytherin match before.” You admit. You would admit only to yourself that you were a little embarrassed. 

James just stares at you, his mouth fallen open in pure shock. “You’re joking.” He says before you slowly shake your head. “You’re joking!” You chuckle softly, amused at his response. He shakes his head and starts walking again. “You’re coming. Next weekend, when Gryffindor beats Slytherin, I expect to see you in the stands.”

You can’t help but smile at his comment. “Yeah, we’ll see.” You say, turning down the corridor as you cast the spell again, watching the paper map out the corridor. James smiles and nudges your shoulder softly with his. 

“Come on, we’ve got a lot more to map.” He says before the two of you start down the hallway quicker, almost racing each other to the end. You both laugh as you reach the end of the hall, stopping and leaning against the walls as you catch your breaths. 

“I so won.” You say to him, despite knowing you didn’t.

James rolls his eyes affectionately. “In your dreams.” He breathes out. You look at him, holding his gaze with a smile for a few moments before the two of you hear a door open down the hall and footsteps coming. James turns the way of the sounds before he pulls the cloak over the two of you, pressing you into the wall again. 

You stop breathing as he presses you against the wall, hiding you as a professor walks down the hall, completely unaware of the two of you there. Once they are gone, James and you relax and he lets the cloak fall, but doesn’t move back. It isn’t until you glance down to the map and see something moving. You gasp. “James.” You whisper, holding it up for the two of you to watch as the map shows you the professor moving down the hall, his name remaining on the map until he walks into an uncharted area. 

James looks at the map before looking at you. “It works.”

You smile and nod, in shock that this resource was actually working. You couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his shoulders for a hug if you tried, but you also didn’t try.

James was shocked for a moment before he hugs you back, smiling and blushing over your shoulder. 

You pull away a bit embarrassed. “Sorry… I got excited.” You say, stepping away from the wall and from him.

James shook his head with a smile, obviously not minding. He clears his throat and pushes his glasses higher. “Um, should we get back to it?” He says, unable to stop the smile on his face. 

You nod, barely looking at him long enough to notice as you start walking again, holding the map up and focusing on it as James and you walk the halls until a few hours before morning. 

You yawn for the hundredth time that hour as James does as well. “I suppose we should get back.” James says, running a hand through his curly hair. 

You nod, feeling exhausted. “You four can map a few places in the day too.” You tell him during the walk back to the Slytherin common room.

James nods, knowing you’re right. The conversation finds a comfortable low again until you see the Slytherin common room ahead of you, relieved that you and James didn’t get caught. “See you tomorrow?” James asks you, his smile still on his face, only softer. You turn and look at him, matching his smile as you nod. 

“Goodnight, Potter.” You whisper, handing him the map. 

James takes the map, your fingers brushing lightly together before you drop your hand and he’s left with the tingling sensation of your touch as you turn and walk away. “Yeah. Goodnight.” He says barely loud enough for you to hear as he watches you enter your common room. He swallows thickly and looks down to the map before turning around and heading back to the Gryffindor common room. 

When he gets back, Remus and Peter were still asleep, but Sirius wakes up when he hears James comes back. “How was it?” Sirius whispers to James, not wanting to wake up his other friends. James tosses him the map, showing him how much you and him covered in the castle. Sirius looks at the large parchment and the small, yet decent sized for one night, portion of the castle mapped and nods while widening his eyes. “Good job,” He says, putting the map in his bedside table. “but you know I wasn’t asking about the map.” Sirius says with a smirk. 

James blushes in the darkness and slips into his pajamas. “It was good.”

Sirius rolls his eyes at James’ simple answer, but he’s not stupid. He can see the blush on his best friend’s face. “Fall in love with her yet?” He teases James who groans, falling into his bed. 

James stays silent, closing his eyes. “She hugged me.”

Sirius can’t help the amused chuckle as he lays back in his bed, ready to sleep again. “Well, I better be best man at the wedding.” He mumbles sleepily.

James can’t help but grin, staring at the ceiling above him until he falls asleep as well.

---

The next few days and nights happened similar to the first night, only with different pairs of the 5 of you. Sometimes you wouldn’t map out the castle, or sometimes you’d map it with Sirius or Remus. It took a few days before you and James were given the chance to go together again and unfortunately, the map was almost completed. The two of you had seen each other in the day time a lot as you started to hang out with the 4 boys, but James and you hadn’t gotten a lot, if any, alone time together. 

You were leaning against the wall at the Slytherin common room, wondering who you were going with tonight before James’ smiling face pops out of nowhere. You don’t scream like the first night, instead, you match his smile. “So, it’s me and you then?”

“You and me.” James says before offering you his elbow. You roll your eyes with a soft smile and interlock your arm with his. You walk towards one of the last corridors you have. 

“We’ll probably finish this tonight.” You say, glancing over at James.

He nods, his smile falling slightly before he looks at you and it returns. “It’s been fun.” He says and you nod. “Is it wrong that I wished we had more to map?”

You think for a moment. “I don’t think so. But we also have been mapping for almost a week straight.” You chuckle. “I think I’m ready to be done with it.” He laughs but agrees. As much as he enjoys this, it will be nice to finally have the map finished. You turn to James and narrow your eyes. “Also, I thought Peter was supposed to map with me today, you have your game tomorrow.”

“I just wanted to make sure you would come tomorrow.” James lies. He did want to make sure you’d come to watch him tomorrow, but he also wanted to make sure you and him would get some alone time again without his friends or yours breathing down his neck. 

You laugh at his comment, looking down at the map. “I promise I’ll come.” You tell him, before looking at him the same time he looks at you. 

For a moment, with your closeness, the two of you just stand there, staring at each other before James’ eyes move down to your lips. 

For a moment, you think he might kiss you.

Until he clears his throat and looks away. 

You feel a little embarrassed, but you don’t let it show. You start walking again, James and you falling into a weird silence as James screams at himself in his head. He keep taking glances at you, but you don’t look at him, not until you reach the new corridor and you pull out the map. “Here, help me out?” You say, handing him one of the ends of the map, needing to find the corridor on this map to map it. James takes it and holds it out as the two of you look for the corridor.

“There it is.” James points to where the map had to be changed, adding flaps and such to represent the different levels of the rooms. You pull open the flap and smile when you find the corridor. 

“Perfect!” You say before folding the map carefully so you could keep that section free. James helps you, trying to keep his mind from running crazy when your fingers brush again. You cast the charm and James and you continue with mapping the castle. The conversation was simple with him. After the two of you get pass the awkwardness of your moment from before, you found it easy to talk about anything. About your family’s, your friends, your hobbies, your dreams. It seemed James and you didn’t stop talking, just like that first night, until you find yourself in front of the Slytherin common room again.

The Slytherin common room was the actual last place the map needed. The plan always being for you to take it and map it without the need for any of the boys to sneak in like they did with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff common rooms. 

“I should be finished by morning.” You assure James as you fold the map and slip it into your robes. He nods, his smile pulling up on one side as he pushes up his glasses. 

“Well, you can give it to me at the game. Tomorrow. 9 am.”

You bite your lip as you smile and nod. “Goodnight, Potter. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You whisper before leaning up and kissing his cheek. James just stood there stunned as you chuckle lightly and run off to your common room.

It was only when he hears the door close that he’s pulled from his trance. He calls out your name, but it was too late. He runs a hand over his face, making sure not to touch his cheek you’ve just kissed before he throws the cloak over himself and heads back to his room. He was going to try and get a few hours before his game, but now, he knows he won’t.

---

James was bouncing the next morning as he stands on the Quidditch Pitch, preparing for the game and looking around the stands for you. 

“Turns out when you don’t go to any games, you don’t really know where to sit.”

James turns around fast at the sound of your voice, surprised to see you down here and not in the stands. He chuckles, shaking his head as he walks over to you. “I thought you weren’t coming for a moment.”

You smile at him and lean against the wall. “Yeah, I made a promise.” James nods, walking until he was right in front of you and smiling at you. He had sweat in his hair from his pre-game practice and his uniform was a little dirty, but he made it work. You take a deep breath and reach into your bag. “I finished it.” You pull out the map, showing him the completed Slytherin common room before holding it out to him.

As soon as James grabs the map, you pull it toward you, affectively pulling his as well until you put a hand on his shoulder and kiss him. When he doesn’t kiss back, you let go of him and the map, your eyes wide as you stumble backwards a little. “I’m sorry. I- I- I thought-“

But you don’t get to finish your sentence because once James gets over his shock at the revelation that you were really kissing him, he puts his hand on your waist and pulls you back, letting the map fall to the floor as he holds you close and kisses you deeply.

You swear that the stands were cheering for the two of you, not for the game was soon to start. 

“Oi!” Sirius’ teasing voice calls out from behind James as you both separate and look behind him, seeing Sirius’ grin as he leans against his broom. “Are we going to play or not?”

James gives him the middle finger as you slap his hand down playfully, keeping his hand in yours. James chuckles and looks back at you before he picks up the map and looks at it. “Why don’t you keep this safe for a bit longer. Wouldn’t want it to fall into someone else’s hands, now would we? You can watch everyone in the castle with this.”

You take the map before shrugging. “Well, almost everyone.”

James furrows his brows in confusion for a moment before sighing and grinning. “You’re the exception, aren’t you?”

You smile and pat his chest.  “You think I’m going to give you, James Potter, a map to where I am every moment of the day? You must be mad.” James just grins at you before your eyes widen excitedly. “Oh! Something else!” You say before turning the map over, showing James the cover of the map you created for them.

James was shocked as he looked at it, not knowing I had done something like that for them. He reads the words before chuckling. “The Marauders?” 

You blush and shrug. “Figured it was better than calling you lot the Merry Men.” 

James hums. “I thought I was Robin Hood?” 

“Face it,” You chuckle before joking, “I’m Robin Hood.” 

James nods slowly as he puts his hands on your waist again, pulling you against him. “Alright, alright.” He says before leaning towards you again and stealing another kiss which you happily accept. James chases your lips for a second moment as you two separates before he reaches into his bag. “Maybe you could keep something else safe for a bit too?”

You watch him, not knowing what he was grabbing before he grabs out another one of his jerseys and holds it up to you. “James-“

“Wear my jersey.” He interrupts you and you have to look away and smile. He sees the smile before he steps forwards and slips the jersey over your head, helping you get your arms through before stepping back and enjoying the sight. 

“Go win your game.” You say to him, reaching forward and squeezing his hand. “I’ll find you afterward.”

James squeezes your hand back before slowly walking backwards with a goofy grin. “Well, you have the map, love. Should be easy.” He gives you wink before he runs off,  meeting up with Sirius who throws his arm over his shoulder to tease him. 

You laugh as you watch them before heading up to the stands where Remus and Peter were, neither of them surprised to see you in James’ jersey.

And when Gryffindor wins against Slytherin, none of them are shocked to see James point at you in the stands as he smiles. 

•

Don't come at me if I don't really know how the charm works, I had a cute idea and went with it lol.

[lovegalor333]

can you do a short little smut when paige is overstimulating the reader??? i would love that and also i love your writings

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

i can do it better

summary: paige finds your vibrator and asks you to show her how you use it

content warnings: nsfw smut overstimulation sex toy fingering munch p squirting

“Care to explain this?” You hear your girlfriends voice call out to you from your bedroom. You’re in the bathroom getting ready for bed, you were exhausted after a long day of classes and wanted nothing more than to close your eyes and fall into a deep sleep. “Explain what, baby?” You call back with a roll of your eyes, Paige couldn’t see you thankfully, you’re sure she’d have a few choice words for your brattiness but you were tired and didn’t want the hassle of whatever Paige was talking about.

“This.” Paiges voice is closer now and you flick your eyes up to the mirror in front of you, to see your girlfriend leaning against the bathroom door frame, a cheeky smirk on her face and to your dismay the small purple, bullet shaped vibrator that lived in your nightstand, in her hand.

Your cheeks flushed a deep claret as you spun around, reaching out the snatch the toy off Paige but she has great reflexes and she’s a lot taller than you, “Uh uh.” She shakes her head, holding the vibrator up and and out of your reach. “Were you snooping in my drawers?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “No, I was looking for melatonin. Now tell me why you have this? This can’t do what I do.” Paige says and she presses the small button and the bullet begins to vibrate in her hand and you feel your temperature begin to rise.

Sex wasn’t a taboo subject for you and Paige but you’d never spoke about masturbation and the fact she had your toy in her hand made you feel slightly dizzy. Truth be told, since you’ve been together you’ve hardly used that thing but sometimes Paige plays away and this summer she was hardly in Connecticut and a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.

“Can you turn that off?” You ask seriously, now frowning at Paige, embarrassment more than anything creeping in. “Tell me why and how you use it?”

“Paige-”

“Just tell me.” And she places the vibrating toy against your left nipple, the thin material of her t-shirt you wear to sleep not doing much to buffer the sensation. “When you’re away…and I…” You struggle to speak between Paiges intense eye contact, your nipple being attacked and the awkwardness of the subject you don’t know what to say. “Don’t be embarrassed baby.” Paiges voice is soft and sensitive, a stark contrast to the look on her face. “When you’re away and I’m horny, I use it sometimes.” “How do you use it?” “For Gods sake Paige, how do you think?” You’re losing patience now and suddenly you’re no longer tired. Paige is being a tease and it’s pissing you off.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’d like to show me.” Paige taunts with a raise of her brows and before you can detest, you’re over her shoulder, hand on your ass.

Paige throws you down onto your bed and hands you the vibrator, “Show me how you make yourself cum.” The husk of her voice and the stance she was in, looking down at you on your back made you ache.

You pressed the vibrator to your clit, over your lace thong, the initial sensation making your thighs shudder. Paiges gaze doesn’t falter for a second, you can practically feel her eyes burning into you, “What do you think about when you’re doing this?”

“You. Your fingers- shit- how they feel inside me.” The wet patch inbetween your legs is growing with each buzz of the toy and you need more. You pull the lace material to the side but before you can reposition the bullet, Paige is on the bed, her hand on top of yours, stopping you from pleasuring yourself. “I thought you wanted me to show you.”

“I did but it’s pissing me off. I’m gonna show you just why you don’t need this thing.” She rasps, taking the vibrator from your hand but she doesn’t turn it off. Instead she uses one hand to hold your panties to the side before dragging the toy through your damp folds. You buck your hips up, desperate for more. More of Paige. Fuck the vibrator.

Paige continues to tease and taunt your dripping cunt, pressing the vibrator to your clit before dragging it down to your hole, “Paige, please. Stop teasing.” You groan but with the way she’s looking at you, eyes hooded and determined, you know for a fact she’s not going to listen to a word you say.

“Just be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You whimper as Paige turns up the intensity and you jolt in shock, “You can be a good girl, right?” Paige asks as she circles your clit causing arousal to drip out of you. “Y-yes.” You choke out and Paige spreads your legs, a knee on each of your thighs, holding them in place.

“Fuck, you look so good spread out for me like this baby.” Paige grunts and she lets a blob of spit out of mouth and it lands on your cunt, you whine at the feeling. “Ne-need more, P.”

Paige misinterprets your pleads for her…or chooses to ignore then and further increases the intensity of the vibrator, pressing it hard and firm on your swollen clit. The band in your stomach tightens and your legs begin to shake beneath your girlfriends knees, “Fuck Paige, I’m about to- ugh shit- I’m about to cum.” You moan, eyes rolling back in your head as the band threatens to snap but the soft buzzing and intense vibrations come to a halt, “I’m not watching you cum with something that isn’t me.” Paige says matter of factly and your words are lodged in your throat as she pushes two fingers inside of you with ease, “Oh fuck!” You gasp as she hammers in and out of you, her long fingers knocking into the gummy spot with each inward movement.

Without warning, Paige adds another finger into the mix and you bite down on your lip as she stretches you out, “Shit Paige, don’t stop.” You beg, reaching down to grab onto her wrist to ensure she doesn’t rob you of another orgasm. But Paige simply bats your hand away, linking it with her free one.

You feel yourself contracting around Paiges fingers and know you’re close so you move your hips in circular motions, guiding her hand to hit all your favourite places. Paige brings her thumb to your clit, starting off in gentle swipes before she’s full on pressing and pinching your sensitive spot.

“Shit Paige, right there!” You cry out as the feeling overwhelms you and your body writhes and jerks beneath her and you come undone all over her fingers. Your heart rate is rapid as Paige pulls her fingers out of you and you whimper as she slides them across your folds and over your clit, spreading your slick as she goes, “I love how messy you are.” She purrs, taking her fingers into her mouth and sucking on them, moaning at the taste of you on her tongue.

You watch in awe as her tongue flicks and swirls around her sticky fingers, “You’re so hot.” You breathe out and Paige just smirks before she leans down, mouth inches away from your soaked cunt and she blows out two sharp breaths making you shiver.

Still sensitive from your orgasm, your moan is throaty and rough as Paige buries her face into your cunt. She’s devouring you like a woman starved and you’re her favourite meal. With every flick of her tongue, your back arches of the bed, just pushing her face further into you. Her nose nudges your clit as she slips her tongue inside, “Fuck Paige! Pleasepleaseplease!” You babble, not sure what your begging for, your head spins at every sensation and when her teeth graze your clit and fingers slip back inside, you damn near lose it.

Her movements are insatiable and unrelenting and you squeeze her hand in yours as it all begins to feel too much. “I- I can’t Paige.” You choke out as tears begin to fill in your water line. “You can.” She mumbles against you and the vibrations from her voice sent jolts of ecstasy through your body.

This feeling was different from any you’ve felt before, Paiges fingers driving into you at a pace so fast, all you could hear was the sordid sounds of your wetness. Her tongue and lips working overtime as they sucked and swirled at your clit. The ache between your legs was crushing and your head tipped back, jaw going slack as a sudden surge soared through you, from your core to your feet, toes curling and you felt an unfamiliar gush as everything went black.

Just as quick as your eyes closed, they opened again and Paige was pressing kisses to your inner thigh. She looked up at you, chin dripping and realisation hits you, “Did I squirt?” You ask, voice hoarse and breathless. “Damn right ma. This girl loves me.” She smirks sending a light smack to your pussy and your legs clamp shut, “That’s enough. You just destroyed her.” You chuckle and Paige leans over you, pressing her lips to yours and you get a taste of yourself. “That was so fucking sexy.” She whispers into your ear before trailing wet kiss down your neck.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: yall!! i know the request said ‘short little smut’ but i got carried away 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 this was rushed and barely edited and im writing this with a glass of wine so apologies in advance for any mistakes, i know i could have done better 💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway! love yall, send gays vibes to me tonight, im on a mission x

tag list: @paigeluvvr

[allophonicmess]

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

Act 1

Remember that inspo I posed the other day? I coudn't let it go and decided to write a three part fic based on it.

Warnings: spoilers for Deadpool& Wolverine, descriptions of a panic attack, angst, implicaded age gap

word count 2k

No beta and English isn't my first language

there will be fluff later on but sadness first:

Too Sweet

Logan felt a great mix of emotions since he had followed that red-ass clown Wade into this universe. Most of it was anger, confusion, rage… But In that moment as he was sat on the black beat-up couch among Wade’s friends… He was overwhelmed.

Not by sensory overload, although that casserole that blind Al had made did stink up the place with garlic-

He was overwhelmed by the feeling of happiness, joy and companionship of the people around him. He hadn’t felt that way in ages if he ever did at all. He never felt that way with his team before everything happened.

He liked them, sure. But this company of weirdos shared a Kinmenship he never got to experience.

“Hey, Peanut! Are you angrily staring off into space to allow for good exposition?” Wade had plopped down on the couch right next to him. His jeans-clad thigh rubbed right up to his. At this point, Logan had given up on trying to keep him out of his personal space.

The older man frowned and stared at Wade next to him. His beer was getting warm but he didn’t feel like giving up his spot on the couch.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He huffed, taking another sip of his beer. But Wade just clicked his tongue, scooting even closer to Wolverine.

“Aww, you know what I mean! You are big and gruff and don’t talk that much… It’s kinda hard to capture you in writing you know. There are only so many words in the English language to describe your grunting and-“

“Are you done?” Logan sighed, finishing his drink. He was starting to regret coming with Wade. Getting drunk in some shit hole of a bar sounded better than listening to Wade's babbling.

“See! That’s what I mean. Sigh is nice, sure but it doesn’t quite capture the nature of those beautiful noses you make, big boy.” Wade petted Logan's thigh, which the older man quickly pulled away as he stood up abruptly.

“Jesus fucking- Can’t you annoy someone else? You got all of these muppets to talk to. Stop bothering me god damn it.” Logan placed the empty bottle down on the couch table. He scanned the room, looking for someone else that Wade could annoy to death. His eyes landed on the brunette… Vanessa… He knew that something had been going on between Wade and her. He never told him the details but from the pining look Wade gave her and the sad as fuck sighs he made, it was clear that the motherfucker wasn’t over her.

“Go and talk to the girl for god's sake. She might be the only one here to appreciate it.” He grinned at Wade, enjoying how his stupid grin faltered even for just a second. He leaned down on Wade's level, whispering to him in an overly joyous manner. “It might even get you laid.”

They stared at each other for a hot minute. Both men tying to provoke the other into action. But Logan was getting bored so he pushed “I might try if you don’t have the balls-“

“Fine!” It came out way too loud. Wade got up quickly trying to keep up his jolly attitude. “Fine, I will. But not because you said so.”

“Or threatened you.”

“You didn’t threaten me.”

“Sure, if you need to believe that” Logan got back onto the couch, now stretching out lazily across it. He closed his eyes, pretending to snooze.

There was no witty comeback, which surprised Logan. But it only came to show that Wade was serious for once.

Logan would never tell but he warmed up to Deadpool. He respected the man, despite his annoying and borderline brain-rotting bad humour. But he had principles. He cared for those around him, loved them dearly and would do anything to protect them. He did in fact. Logan spread out on his worn leather sofa is proof of it. He hated to admit it but Wade was the better man of the two. He didn’t let those he loves down, running away like the drunk asshole Logan is. Wade would have come to help her, would have-

The obnoxiously loud ringing of Wade’s apartment doorbell ripped Logan out of his self-deprecating talk. He blinked against the bright ceiling light and watched as Wade sighed softly. He had just started his conversation with Vanessa and it seemed to be quite a good talk from the looks of it. He seemed frustrated to be ripped away from it. Wade nodded softly, towards Vanessa, excusing himself but he was stopped by Colossus.

“No please Wade, I get it. You seem to be engaged in an interesting conversation.” The 7’5’’ metal man said, touching Wade by the shoulder to turn him back towards to woman. Logan huffed, he wasn’t the only one trying to get Wade laid.

The giant stomped towards the door, turning the doorknob that looked comically small in his silver hand to let the latecomer in.

“Hi! I’m so sorry for being late. I still had to finish some work. It’s the end of the semester, you know how it is.” A sweet voice called from outside.

Then two things happened at the same time. It was like a push and pull.

Ellie, Yukio, even that odd taxi driver… they all turned towards the door in excitement. Smiling and wooing at the woman that just entered the apartment with a cake carrier tucked under her arms.

Logan on the other hand? He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He sat there, staring as Colossus pulled her into a big hug, lifting her off the ground before taking the container off her hands to allow the others to greet her. She was smiling, laughing at some joke Ellie had cracked at her.

She looked younger. Maybe she was, who knows how time worked in this universe. Or it was the lack of stress she had to face, no heartbreak, no constant rejection from a bastard that couldn’t see that the best thing was right in front of him.

“Ah, there you are! We were starting to miss you!” Wade pulled her into a tight hug. He seemed to be content. And the older man cursed himself for even caring about it.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, or so he hoped. Maybe she didn’t know him. It would be for the best.

“Yeah, I already told Piotr, I had to finish some lesson planning at the academy before the school year is over.” She replied as she greeted Vanessa and the rest of the group.

“Oh right. You are the only one that actually knows what she’s doing at that school.” Wade joked, earning a playful remark from Colossus.

So she also studied at a human university before starting at the school, Logan noted. He was still stuck on the couch, feeling unable to move as he kept staring at her.

“You know her?” The sudden comment coming from right next to him made Logan flinch.

“Whoa, relax man. I just noticed you staring at her for like 5 min straight. And you don’t seem too happy about her being here.” Ellie stood next to him, casually watching the scene just as he did.

“None of your fucking business.” Logan managed to spit out. While he did get startled, the interruption helped him to finally feel able to move again. And it happened just at the right moment. He needed to get the fuck out of there.

Ellie just huffed, watching Logan get up on shaky legs. It could just be from the constant level of alcohol in Logan’s blood, making his knees weak, or the age. But she suspected that there was more.

Yet Logan’s attempt at a quiet escape was hindered by Piotr, calling him to come to the kitchen to introduce the two.

“Come to kitchen! I want you to meet my good friend Y/N. She also works at the school. You will like her”, the man sounds proud. He should be.

Logan ignored him, pushing his way through the small crowd with shaky steps. Why was he sweating for god's sake?

“Logan!”

“No” He called, breathing was getting harder again.

“Logan!”

“I’m good! I’m-“ He finally reached the door, rattling the doorknob and cursing that his fucking fingers got shaky. Everything was too loud and too hot and too-

“Wade, it’s fine. He doesn’t have to.“ She tried to stop the two men next to her from calling the man over. He was clearly in distress and it hurt her to watch him fumble on his way out. There were only so many people that were scared of her outside the battlefield.

She had met “their” Logan, but only briefly at some anniversary event. They had simply mismatched their time at the school. He left shortly after Y/N started working and they hadn’t met much. She wondered what the other her must have done to him to cause such a reaction.

Finally. Fucking finally. The door opened and Logan simply burst into the hallway, rushing down the steps to feel the air rush back into his lungs. A fucking embarrassment. That is what he was. The Wolverine scared shitless by a woman that doesn’t even know him.

But the other one did and it killed her.

“Logan, what in the ever-loving- fuck was that?” Wade had run after him. He just couldn’t leave it alone, could he?

“Fuck off.” Logan breathed weakly. He felt tears prickling in his eyes and it made him hate himself just a little bit more.

“You just running off? Scared of a girl?” Wade kept pushing, following Logan as he walked down the familiar street towards his bar of choice. That being the cheapest and quietest he could find in the city.

“Scared you can’t get one off? I don’t wanna make predictions but man, I think she is into the dark brooding type” he kept pushing “ Or you know what? If I can’t get Vanessa laid I might try with her, I mean she is quite-“

That made Logan snap. Turning around and impaling Wade against the closest wall. Both sets of claws out and push into the other man's torso. He only groaned in return.

“Don’t you fucking dare! Don’t you fucking-“

“Okay, okay, whoa ow… man-“ Wade coughed, lifting his hands in surrender. “ I was only joking man. Unfair. Fuck. I am unarmed-urgh”

Logan retracted the claws letting Wade drop to the floor. He knew the man was joking, he should. But it was all too fucking much too soon. He wouldn’t let it happen again. And how to best prevent the inevitable heartbreak? Don’t even let her get close, to begin with. She didn’t deserve it. She never did in the first place and he would do anything in his power to stop it from happening to her.

“So, you are just leaving me hanging? It’s your party too, you know.” Wade got up, inspecting the bloody holes that stained his new shirt. He cursed softy.  “Damn, it was brand new. Ruining a perfectly good shirt for the exposition”

“Don’t wait for me,” Logan said, turning away from Deadpool. A cheap bottle of whisky was waiting for him to calm his nerves and forget about that fucking stunt. He won’t see her again, not even talk to her or talk about her. It’s for the best. She would agree if she knew,  Logan was sure of it.

New requets for being added to the list via comments on the Masterlist post, please. That helps me to keep things organized :)

Do comment here for feedback and spreading some love ❤️

[1800-fight-me]

Pretty

Rick Grimes x Female!Reader

Rating: E (Explicit- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Explicit sex and Dominant!Rick (it's pretty much only smut)

Word count: About 3.4k

Synopsis: Rick becomes upset with you when you express that you don't feel pretty since the world ended and uses all his skills to convince you otherwise.

Author’s note: This is my first Rick fic! I know I'm soooooo late to the game but I started watching TWD the end of last year and am so obsessed and so in love with Daddy Rick so this is the result lol! If you like this fic please come talk to me!! I am desperate for people to obsess over Rick with lmao

P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist

“I miss hot showers,” Rosita said. 

There was a chorus of agreements around the small fire. 

“I miss chicken nuggets,” Carl said and you laughed along with everyone else. 

This wasn’t the worst off your group had ever been, but it had certainly been a long time since you had any of the luxuries of life before the world fell apart or even since living at the prison. 

Everyone avoided mentioning the real heavy hurts, the people you truly missed- the ones who hadn’t survived. No, this was supposed to be a lighthearted conversation, a way to end a day of blood and sweat and walkers on a good note. 

“I miss watchin’ movies,” Maggie said and you hummed in agreement. 

“What about you?” Carl asked you. 

You smiled at him and Judith babbled happily where she sat in your lap. 

“Books. I miss the library at the prison. Libraries in general, really,” you replied. 

“Nerd,” the teenager muttered with a roll of his eyes but the smile on his face gave away the fondness of his teasing. 

You laughed as you leaned back further against Rick’s chest. His arms tightened around you and his foot reached out and nudged Carl’s leg in teasing reprimand. 

The conversation continued on, everyone listing little luxuries they missed from their former lives. Things that had been long since forgotten for the sake of survival. As everyone spoke, although you agreed with them you realized you wouldn’t trade the family that you’d found for anything in the world. 

Glenn called your name and you realized your mind had wandered, thinking of the love you had for everyone sitting around the fire. Particularly thinking of the love you had for the man whose body currently enveloped your own, for his children that sat with you. 

“Hm?” 

“Your turn again,” he said. 

You weren’t sure why it was so important that you took another turn since Rick had been quiet this whole conversation. Your only indication that he was still awake was the small soothing circles his fingers rubbed on your arm. 

“Oh, ummm probably feelin’ pretty,” you said absentmindedly. 

“What?” Rick’s voice snapped out, low and in disbelief. 

His thumb pressed into your elbow and you could feel the sudden tension in his body pressed against yours. 

“Ya know, I miss gettin’ all dolled up and feelin’ pretty. Pretty dresses, goin’ to the nail salon, hairdos that aren’t only practical, makeup, jewelry, heels. Not somethin’ I cared about too much at the time, but still it was nice every once in a while. God, I can’t believe I miss wearin’ heels,” you said with a soft laugh. 

“Y’don’t need any of that to be pretty,” Rick said firmly. His hand slipped to your cheek and jaw and guided you to turn your head back enough to meet his gaze as he leaned forward. 

“I know, pretty isn’t the most important thing. I’ve survived, that’s what matters, that I’m alive-”

“You’re pretty everyday, baby. Even covered in walker blood and guts,” he said firmly then pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Your cheeks burned as you turned your head back around and realized that the conversation had not moved on without the two of you, that everyone was giving rapt attention to your interaction with Rick. 

“Okay,” you muttered quietly, “Daryl I think it’s your turn.” 

He took mercy on you and changed the subject. “I miss booze.” 

Many agreed with him and the conversation chugged right along. Eventually it dwindled out along with the fire as darkness continued to fall and the full moon rose, bathing everyone in its light. 

Camp was prepared for the night and you bundled up with Rick on the hard ground as he held you from behind. Judith slept in Carl’s arms only an arms length away from the two of you. 

Just when you started to doze off, the soft snores of the group lulling you to sleep, Rick gripped your hip. 

“You still awake?” he asked, his voice low and husky. 

“Mmhmm” 

“Good, get up and come with me, pretty girl,” he ordered as he stood. 

You let out a soft groan but took his offered hand and let him carefully guide you away from the camp and further into the woods. He nodded at Daryl who was on watch whose only response was a grunt and a wave of dismissal.

With a hand on your collar he gently pushed your back into a huge tree and said, “Stay here.” 

“Yes sir,” you muttered with an eyeroll as you yawned. 

You watched him place a hand on the gun stuck in the back of his pants as he walked a small perimeter around where he left you to ensure you were safe and completely alone. 

He came back with his gun holstered and your breath caught at the intensity with which he looked at you. 

He was doing that thing, that staring- refusing to speak first- intimidating thing. Heat rushed through your body. It didn’t matter if he was angry with you, you knew him well enough to know his intentions of pulling you here. Weeks on the road had left little time for just the two of you. 

“Are you upset with me or somethin’?” you finally broke the silence with a huff. 

“Maybe,” he said as he tilted his head. His eyes dragged up and down your body and your legs began to quiver. 

You glared at him. 

“I’m not playin’ twenty questions. You gonna tell me why?” you snapped. 

He stepped closer so his body was pressed against yours and you barely managed to hold in your groan at the firm heat of him. 

One hand gripped your waist and the other he placed around your neck- not squeezing but resting there- making sure you felt the potency of his presence, his dominance. 

“How dare you think you’re not pretty,” he finally breathed out. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes again even as you protested, “Rick.” 

His fingers tightened slightly on your throat. 

“You- you of all people don’t feel pretty? Don’t I tell you enough how beautiful I find you?” 

You breathed out his name again in protest to his words. “This is ridiculous-”

“I ain’t done talkin’,” he snapped. “You temptress. Your beauty ruined me. Wracked me with guilt. You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen and I thought that even when my pregnant wife was still alive. Your beauty made me question what kind of man I am because I wanted you even then. The worst part was you didn’t even realize what you were doin’ to me for the longest time. And now, now that I have you. Now that you’re mine- you don’t feel pretty?” 

His breaths were coming heavy and his chest heaved against yours at the confession, at the hissed words in the darkness, the truth heavier than the humidity in the summer heat.

Oh. 

Oh.

You could barely breathe. 

“I didn’t- I’m sorry, I-” 

His firm lips against yours quieted your jumbled words and thought process. His kiss was harsh and demanding. His hand drifted up to the back of your head as he pulled you closer. The low growl he released made you whimper as you gripped at his shirt. He used the opportunity to plunge his tongue inside your mouth. 

You moaned at the taste of him, desperate for more. Your hands drifted down to the seam of his shirt and you started to tug, desperate for the feel of his skin against yours when he suddenly pulled back and took a step back from you. 

There was a wildness in his blue eyes and when you reached out for him he merely held your hand in his, but did not allow you to pull him closer. 

“Rick,” you practically whined. 

“No, it’s not ‘bout me tonight. No, you’re gonna understand exactly how pretty you are before I’m done with you.” He said the words like they were a threat of violence he’d give to an enemy and you felt yourself become wet with desire. 

You only nodded mutely.

“These hands, to start, these hands are pretty,” he said, his voice low as he grabbed your other hand and brought them both to his lips. “It’s real cute how you wave ‘em around when you’re talkin’ all passionate. And they hold the weapons you use to kill to protect our family. The way you touch me, how it feels so perfect when your hand is wrapped around my cock.” 

Your breaths shuddered as his lips began to make their way up your arm. “These hands and arms that hold my children with such tenderness.” His lips rounded your shoulder to reach your collarbone and you sighed in relief that he was finally close enough to feel him pressed against you. 

“This pretty neck that I’ve spent months dreaming about,” he mouthed at the sensitive skin of your throat and you whined as he bit down. 

His tongue soothed the small pain of the bite before he licked all the way up the column of your throat. 

“Please, need you-” you moaned and he pulled back to look you in the eyes again. 

“Patience, pretty baby,” he murmured as his hand caressed your cheek. 

You pressed your thighs together, a desperate and unfruitful attempt to get some sort of relief. The heat that filled your body for this man threatened to overwhelm you. Desperate, you were desperate for him. Rick was normally a filthy talker in bed, but this- this was something different. Even your heart burned with love and desire for him. 

“Your eyes are so pretty. I love that I can always tell exactly what emotion you’re always feeling just by lookin’ in ‘em. That they’re so intense no matter what,” he said with another swift kiss to your lips.

“Pretty forehead. Pretty cheeks. Pretty nose. Pretty chin. Pretty jaw,” he said and every sentence was punctuated by a kiss to the feature he was referring to. Here was a man who’d been inside you countless times and yet you felt bashful at this sort of attention from him.

A whimper slipped past your lips, and he pulled back- eyes devoted to the study of them. 

“Pretty lips. I love the sass that comes out of this gorgeous mouth even when you try my patience. Love the way your lips feel against mine. Love the pretty sounds you make when I’m inside you. Love how you look with my cock down your throat- prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he groaned and kissed you again. 

You could feel the passion in the movement of his lips against yours, in the way his tongue tangled with yours, in the desperate press of his body against yours. You didn’t even care that the rough bark of the tree dug into your back as your frantic desire for him overwhelmed you. 

He pulled your shirt up over your head and dropped it on the ground beside you. Your core clenched at the groan he released at the sight of you in your bra. 

“Prettiest tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.” He pulled the bra off immediately, chucking slightly at the knife he had to catch from falling from where you’d stored it in the bra earlier in the day. 

You giggled slightly. “It comes in handy,” you said with a shrug as he dropped the knife on top of the growing pile of your clothes. 

“I don’t doubt that,” he replied but any quip back disappeared from your mind as his large calloused hands enveloped your breasts and you moaned. 

“Quiet, baby, you don’t wanna wake anybody up or draw any walkers,” he reminded you. 

You bit your lip and nodded as you did as you were told. 

His hands squeezed and caressed your breasts before he leaned down and replaced one of his hands with his mouth. He kissed, and licked, and finally sucked at your sensitive nipples. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your moan as your other hand plunged into the curls at the back of his head to pull him closer. 

His lips drifted down your stomach, your waist, your hips all while imprinting reassurances of his appreciation of your body onto your skin. He unbuttoned and pulled off your jeans along with your belt and holster that held multiple weapons. The panties came off immediately too. 

“You’ve got the kind of beauty to make a man fall to his knees.” His lips moved to your thighs as he kneeled before you. 

Your legs were shaking with desire, with need. His lips and hands worshiped your thighs and calves all the while murmuring sweet words about how pretty he finds every aspect of your body before his lips drifted back up towards your soaked pussy. 

He lifted one of your legs and placed it atop his broad shoulder to give him access to your core. 

“Prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen,” he moaned before his tongue suddenly licked a stripe up from your leaking hole to your clit. 

You bit down on the meat of your palm to avoid screaming in pleasure as he finally gave attention to your throbbing neglected heat. 

“Oh god, oh fuck, Rick, that feels so good,” you whimpered. His tongue plunged and pillaged inside you as his nose ground against your clit. Heat rushed through you and threatened to overcome you quicker than you’d ever experienced before. 

He groaned into your soaked folds before licking back up to your clit. His tongue flicked and swirled around your bud of pleasure. Your grip on his hair tightened and your soft chanting of his name spurred him on. 

The cadence of your quiet breathy moans reached a fever pitch as his lips enveloped your clit and he sucked. 

“Shit, Rick I’m gonna come,” you groaned, the words slightly muffled by your hand over your mouth. 

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he ordered. Just like always- your heart, your soul, and your body followed his orders with a gasp. 

Your release wracked through you with such intensity you became lightheaded and Rick had to press his hand against your stomach to keep you standing upright as your legs shook. 

He looked up at you- a grin on his lips with your slick coating his beard and you swore you could come again on the spot at the sight. 

You took shuddering gasping breaths and once he felt you were steady enough he took your leg from off his shoulder and allowed you to stand for yourself. 

“I wanna say you look prettiest when you come…” he stood up and yanked his shirt off before he reached for his belt. 

“But I think you look prettiest when I put my cock inside you.” 

You couldn’t help the whine that slipped from your lips. He gripped your waist and lifted you up, using the leverage of the tree behind you to hold you up as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 

His pants were pulled down just enough to release his hardened length and your core clenched as it rubbed against your abused clit. 

“Need you inside me, please,” you begged- your voice breathy and near pathetic but he grinned. 

“Your beggin’ is real pretty too,” he drawled and gripped his cock and lined it up to your entrance. With one harsh thrust he filled you completely. 

You choked on a gasp as you were stretched open so suddenly and completely. You felt deliciously full as you clenched down on his huge cock. 

“Fuck,” he growled out between gritted teeth and rested his forehead against yours. 

The drag of his hardened length inside your sensitive walls started a crescendo of overwhelming pleasure.

“That’s it baby, you take me so well,” he said and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was all consuming even as his pace and intensity of his thrusts increased. 

“Ohhh shit- R-rick, you make me feel so good- so pretty- love you so much,” you babbled as he filled you to the brim and more and you gripped his shoulders. 

His grip on your hips only tightened- the pressure most likely bruising but you didn’t care- couldn’t care as his cock repeatedly hit the spot inside you that no other man had ever found- that made your toes curl and your back arch in overwhelming pleasure. 

He groaned and you swore it was the sexiest sound you’d ever heard. 

“S’much, love you so much my pretty baby,” he said and the words were somewhat muffled as he continued to kiss you and his tongue slipped inside your mouth. 

The friction of his bare chest against yours stimulated your nipples as his groin grinded against your clit with each of his deep thrusts. 

You clenched around him as your desperate pussy sucked him in. 

“I can tell you’re close, come on my cock,” he ordered as his mouth drifted to your neck and he bit down harshly. 

Your release hit you like a freight train and the pulsing of your pussy around his thick cock barreled him towards his own release. 

“Rick!” you gasped and gripped his shoulder- your nails digging into the muscle. 

“Fuck- I know, I know,” he groaned as he pulled out right before he came. He placed you down on your feet as he gripped and stroked his cock. 

Your hand joined his and with a groan of your name his come splattered across your stomach. 

You looked up at him with a grin on your lips and his lips slowly spread into a breathtaking smile. 

“Kiss me?” you asked sweetly as you batted your eyelashes. 

He chuckled as he kissed you slowly and sweetly as if he hadn’t just wrecked you completely. 

All too soon he pulled back and tucked himself back in his jeans before he pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and used it to clean you up. 

He assisted you in clothing yourself and you trailed your hands across his toned chest and torso with hearts in your eyes. 

You pouted as he pulled his shirt back over his head. He shook his head at you with a fond smile on his lips. You both returned all your weapons to their proper places in your belts and holsters. 

“How’re you feelin’?” he asked finally with a hand on your chin. 

“Real pretty,” you purred. 

You could feel his smile as his lips pressed against yours once more. 

“Good,” he replied, tone deep and gravely. 

With a hand on your waist he led you back to the small camp. It didn’t matter that you'll only be getting a couple of hours of sleep at this point, that your back hurt from the tree bark, that you were sore in multiple places, that you probably had bruises- as he led you to lay down and held you in his arms you were perfectly content and wouldn’t change a thing. You felt well loved and appreciated.

You began to drift off when a hand slipped into yours and squeezed, you opened your eyes and Carl was looking at you where he and Judith laid only an arms length in front of you. 

“Judith wants you,” he whispered and you looked down at Judith who stared at you wide eyed and made grabby hands towards you. 

“C’mere princess,” you whispered as you waved her closer. She crawled over to you and you barely held in your laugh as she climbed up over you and wiggled herself between you and Rick. 

He made a sleepy grumbling noise as he pulled you and Judith closer and mumbled, “My girls.” 

You grinned and reached over and brushed the curls from his face, your other hand still held by Carl’s which surprised you, but his day had been particularly harrowing and you were more than willing to offer comfort to him, to your entire family that you now laid tangled up with. 

Despite the apocalypse, the constant daily fear and fight of the walking dead- you wouldn’t trade anything for this moment. For this feeling of knowing exactly your place in the world and being content with Rick and the family you found with him. 

[wendichester]

hi! I was thinking if you could write something kinda angst??? where reader have been acting kinda strange and having those little moments where she looks sick, and then she tells dean she's pregnant ! how you think he is going to take it?

Or maybe secret baby ! dean and reader see eachother again after a little bit more than a yer and she's with a pretty baby that looks like him !

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ not ready yet,

summary. you've been keeping your pregnancy from dean and he doesn't take it well.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 681

notes. i do feel like his initial response would be flight--too scared that he'd turn out like john, that we'd mess you and the baby up. though he would eventually get his head straight and come running back, wanting to do this with you. thanks for the request, love! 🩷

Dean Winchester knows when something’s wrong.

You’ve been acting off for weeks now—ducking out of conversations, getting quiet when Sam asks how you’re doing, disappearing to the bathroom for longer than usual. And the worst part? You won’t tell him what’s going on. It’s eating him alive.

So, when you sit him down in the motel room with that look—wide-eyed and scared, your fingers twisted together like you’re holding yourself together—it feels like a punch in the gut before you’ve even said a word.

“Alright,” Dean says, leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it, his jaw tight. “What’s going on? You’ve been weird for weeks.”

You flinch at his tone, but you don’t blame him. He’s been patient, and you’ve been distant. Still, his frustration only makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

“I need to tell you something,” you start, your voice shaky.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Dean snaps, and immediately regrets it when he sees the way your shoulders tense. He softens, exhaling through his nose. “Sorry. Just... talk to me, alright?”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the words, but they feel stuck. Heavy. Impossible.

“I’m pregnant.”

It comes out barely above a whisper, but it feels deafening in the silence that follows.

Dean blinks at you, his expression blank for a moment. And then he laughs—short, sharp, bitter. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke,” you say, your voice trembling. “I’m serious, Dean.”

He stares at you like you’ve just told him the world’s ending. “You’re serious,” he repeats, more to himself than to you. He rubs a hand down his face, pacing a few steps before stopping and turning back to you. “How the hell did this happen?”

You bristle at his tone. “You want me to explain the birds and the bees, Dean? Because I thought you had that part figured out.”

“Don’t,” he says sharply, his voice rising. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this a joke.”

“I’m not joking!” you snap back, standing up now, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I planned this? Because I didn’t. I didn’t ask for this, Dean.”

“And you think I did?” Dean fires back, his voice breaking. “We’re hunters, for God’s sake! We don’t get white picket fences and diaper changes. This isn’t our life!”

“I know that!” you shout, tears stinging your eyes. “But it’s happening, Dean. Whether you want it or not, it’s happening.”

The room falls into a tense, suffocating silence. Dean looks away, his hands on his hips, his head tilted back like he’s trying to find some kind of answer on the ceiling.

“I can’t do this,” he finally says, his voice barely audible.

The words hit you like a slap, and your breath catches in your throat. “What?”

“I can’t...” Dean shakes his head, his voice rough. “I’m not... I’m not built for this. I’ll screw it up. I’ll screw you up. I can’t—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, your voice breaking. “Just stop. If you don’t want to do this, fine. But don’t stand there and act like you’re protecting me by walking away. You’re just running, Dean. Like you always do.”

His head snaps back to you, hurt flashing in his eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is this,” you say, tears spilling over now. “But I don’t get to run. I don’t get to walk away from this. So, if you can’t handle it, just say that and go.”

Dean stares at you, his jaw working like he’s trying to say something, but nothing comes out. Finally, he shakes his head and storms out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

The silence he leaves behind feels heavier than any words he could’ve said.

You sink back onto the bed, your hands trembling as you press them to your stomach. You’re not sure if you’re more angry or heartbroken, but it doesn’t matter. All you know is that you’re doing this alone.

⋆˚࿔ read part 2

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