#i love hunk hes amazing

[awhoreintheory]

hc that Hunk, as the primary engineer besides Coran, writes lil mini journals for each lion and how to fix them in dire situations and leaves them in the lions

(Also, seeing as the lions are sentient, he probably feels bad and like a perv for rummaging around in their insides so he always profusely apologizes)

I ENDED UP DRAEJNF IT HERE

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

study

reference and uncropped version on twitter (it's not too explicit though)

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Just Giving In

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, truth curses (with a silly twist!), light fluff, angst, smut (fingering, p in v sex, creampie), love confessions, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: You're under a very annoying truth curse. The kind of truth curse that will kill you if one very specific, Dean-related truth isn't told. But apparently no one's allowed to just die in peace anymore.

Author's Note: It's amazing how I'm able to delude myself into truly believing that I'll actually write something short and only horny. No. We must write 3k of story and 5k of emotional smut. Enjoy!

Title from Never Let Me Go by Florence + the Machine

Word Count: 8.6k

It’s past midnight when you get back to the bunker. 

You were supposed to be back that afternoon, but certain complications arose, and you’re back now. You’ll have a long, sleepless night to come up with an excuse for why exactly you were five hours late, didn’t text Sam and Dean that you were going to be five hours late, where exactly you were in the first place, and why the car looks like that. Scraped and dented and wrecked, like it had been put through a meat grinder and spat out in a hunk of metal that somehow didn’t explode when you drove it. 

You’re glad you didn’t take the Impala. If Dean yelled at you right now, you might start crying on the spot. Thankfully—in what should be a rare stroke of luck, but feels like a dagger right into your stomach—Sam and Dean seem to have given up on trying to wait for you to come home, so you’re free to retreat to your room and cry in private, like any reasonable adult who’s probably going to die within the week would-

“You’re back.” 

A light behind you flicks on as Dean snaps from across the room, and you grimace as everything inverts. Dean did wait up for you, and that’s tiny and electric high that goes right up your spine. You’re also not lucky, but that just feels like a given at this point. 

You will not cry in front of Dean. You have spent the whole night repeating to yourself that, no matter what happens here, you will not cry in front of Dean. He either think nothing of this week, and it will fade into the distance as you figure this out yourself and he never knows, or he’ll look back on it with nothing but simple grief and anger, remember you fondly and furiously instead of as a weak, emotional, manipulative bitch. Remembers you as the person you’ve spent so long proving yourself to be, instead of the feral girl they’d found you as. 

It doesn’t make turning around to face him any easier. He’s sitting in his usual chair, glaring at you with his arms crossed, and there are bags under his eyes that you put there. A tight line to his lips that’s your responsibility, because you’d fucked up and he knows it. He always knows it. 

Because you fuck up a lot.

“Hey, Dean, what’s up-“

“What’s up?” He snaps, and you have to force your body not to flinch. “You’re crawling back here at one in the goddamn morning without ever, I don’t know, thinking to fucking call when you realized you’d be late, and you’re saying what’s up?”

You swallow. “I lost my phone.”

“You, fuck-“ Dean rubs his jaw with a hand, giving you a look of pure disbelief. “You could’ve borrow someone’s, or prayed to Cas, or just, goddamnit-“ he mutters your name, looking at you with an exhaustion that makes your gut flail. “Where the hell even were you?”

“Um,” you glance down at your hands. “Hunt?”

“Hunt.” His voice is flat, and you wince. “That’s all you’re going to say.”

You nod. “Rowena called me. Needed help with something.”

“And you just fucking went with her, without telling anyone-“

“I didn’t just go with her, I brought a gun. I was careful.” you try to stand a little taller, looking back up to Dean, because you need to sell your half-truth of a story and get out of here. Out of where Dean’s just right there, and it’s making your skin crawl and your blood cold and your eyes push out of your skull the longer you lie to him. “And I did tell Cas-“

“Son of a bitch, that’s not enough.” Dean groans, pushing out of the chair to glower down at you. It’s an intimidation tactic you’ve seen him use before, where he makes himself large and furious, almost beast like. Sometimes it makes him look bigger than Sam, and he only pulls it out when he’s furious, and demanding answers. You don’t think he knows that, when he uses it on you, it does not have the intended effect.  

“Dean-“

“Cas didn’t tell us.” Dean hisses your name, stalking across the room and getting far too close for your brain to function properly. “You need to tell us, because we were, I was-“ Dean cuts himself off with a grunt, his whole body rigid as he scans over your face. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, and it’s the truth, so it’s like clear, fresh water over your head and down your throat. “I didn’t mean to freak you guys out. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

“You didn’t-” Dean’s jaw is clenched, and his words seem pushed through his teeth. “Just go to bed,” he mutters your name, and you feel something in your chest snap. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

You nod weakly, and almost run away from him. But not to bed. You’ve already blown this up way too much to just go to bed. 

You go right to Sam’s room and bang on the door, keeping a careful eye over your shoulder for Dean to walk into the hall.

It takes a very long, tense minute, but eventually you hear a groan from the other side of the door, tired words muffled through the wood.

“Dean, she’ll be back, and you’re not helping anything-“ The door swings open to reveal a messy haired, bleary-eyed Sam, and he blinks at you with a frown. “Oh, you’re back. You should go tell Dean-“

“He knows.”

“Cool, that’s good.” Sam scans over you—bouncing slightly on your feet, every movement and breath feeling frantic and borrowed—and frowns. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Oh, uh, you need to talk about it-“

You don’t bother to answer, pushing past Sam into his room and dropping on the end of his mattress, watching him blink at you, his frown deepening every second.

“Yeah, you can come in-“

“Can you please close the door?” You whisper, like Dean might somehow hear from wherever he’d gone after your fight. 

Sam nods slowly, and the movement you hear the click of the doorknob, the words start to fall out of you like vomit. 

“I fucked up, Sam. I really, really fucked up, it’s bad, I’m fucking fucked-“

“Woah, slow down.” Sam moves across the room, running a hand through his hair. “Just, start from the top. Where were you-“

“Rowena called me for help. Some sort of coven drama, she said she needed some backup because her magic was weakened.” You take a long, shaky breath, unable to look anywhere but the corner of Sam’s carpet. “I told Cas, just in case it was a trap, and left. I owed her a favor-“

“Wait, since when did you owe Rowena a favor-“

“Mark of Cain.” You mumble. “I told her I’d owe her if she helped Dean. One favor, cashable on anything.”

Sam says your name slowly. “You didn’t need to do that, we would have figured it out. I mean, Dean wouldn’t want you to-“

“I know, I don’t need you to-“ You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can we focus on one stupid choice at a time, please?”

“Yeah, sorry, keep going. Why are you fucked.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and decide to skip most of the details. Sam did not need to know about how the case was indeed at trap, or how you’d known it was a trap, but the favor had been a blood oath, so you weren’t able to run or call them. He didn’t need to know how you’d mowed down about five witches with the car—the sickening crunch still rattling around your skull—or how it wasn’t just blood and sweat on your brow, but something from an animal you’d really hoped you’d mistranslated from Latin. 

He just needs to know the reason you hadn’t killed Rowena when you’d escaped and taken out the rest of the coven. 

He just needs to know about the problem.

“It went to shit. Really big shit, Sam. I’m kind of… cursed.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and when you finally gather the confidence to look at Sam, he’s gaping at you, frozen in place.

“What do you mean,” his voice is low, every word slow and deliberate. “Kind of cursed.”

“I mean very cursed.” You mumble. “Really fucking cursed.”

“Shit.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I said you were probably fine, Dean’s gonna kill me-“

“No!” You stand up frantically, your voice almost a squeak. “Don’t tell Dean!”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I tell Dean?!” Sam snaps, looking at you like you’ve gone insane. “If you’re really cursed, we need all hands, and Dean-“

“He can’t know, Sam, please.” You might start crying, every word choked in your throat. “Don’t tell him.”

“I…” Sam trials off, his face dropping into a deep frown that seems to be mostly made of worry as he says your name. “What, exactly, is the curse?”

You sigh, hugging yourself as you speak. “If I don’t resolve my deepest secret, I’ll die.”

Sam blinks. “Like, die die? Death die?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” His eyes widen as the situation fully sinks in, his whole body going slack as he pulls the pieces together. “Fuck.”

You hum a soft agreement. “Fuck.”

“And why can’t I tell Dean? I mean, he’ll want to help-“

“You know why.” You whisper. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Fuck.” Sam groans. “And you’d rather die than-“

“Yes.” You lower yourself down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare ahead at nothing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I just. I can’t. I don’t-“ You taste the sting of metal as you bite through your cheek. “I don’t know what to do. I’m going to d-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sound, and hear the bed shift as Sam drops at your side and pulls you into a gentle hug.

“We’ll figure it out.” He mutters your name, and you make another weak, strangled noise. “I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Over your first, weak sob, you don’t hear the door open. You only know it opens because Dean clears his throat, and your blood turns white-hot in your body, caught between embarrassment and nerves and a deep, soft and starved piece of your heart that’s trying to climb into your limbs and rip your body away from Sam’s to fly to Dean’s.

“Sammy, she-“ He cuts himself off as he sees you, and you die a little at how he says your name. Like he hates it. “You’re in here.”

You nod, keeping your face angled down, and you hear Dean shift slightly in the doorway. 

“Why are you in Sam’s room.”

There’s no good answer for that, and Sam doesn’t seem to have one either. There’s no plausible lie for why you’re on the floor on Sam’s room, why you’re sniffling, and why he’s hugging you that doesn’t sound insane. Even the truth wouldn’t exactly be an easy sell.

And it hurts. When Dean just sighs and grunts that he doesn’t want to know—that you and Sam can go back to fucking braiding each other’s hair or whatever—and stomps out of the room, it’s like a knife to your gut. But you can’t tell him. Not the truth. Not any of it.

So this will only be the first knife. And you’d worry about what you would be telling him when this was over—how you could possibly explain yourself—if you had any faith you were going to get out of this. 

But you don’t. The week crawls on, and it all only gets so much worse. Vague illness starts to feel like you’re being mauled from inside, and Dean’s anger turns to bullets.

You spend most of your days in the library with Sam, combing through book after book, looking for anything about how you can fix this, and every time Dean walks in, he looks like he wants to punch someone. Like he’s disgusted by your very presence where he can see you, like you’re a spider that’s crawled into his house and he can’t even stand the sight of you. 

“I’m getting dinner.” He snaps on the third night, and when you look up from your book—Sam standing behind you, having hunched over your body to read the passage you’d been pointing to—Dean’s jaw is clenched, his fists curled at his side. “Neither of you got groceries, so I’m ordering. What do you want.”

His voice is flat. It makes your chest feel like it’s being run over by a train.

“I’ll take whatever you get.” You offer him a small smile, because you can’t help yourself, and it just makes him glare more. “But can I please have a milkshake as well?”

Dean narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t know where the hell I’m going.”

“You’re going to the diner, Dean.” You shrug. “You always go to the diner.”

He grunts, something hot flashing over his face that you don’t understand. “Fine. Milkshake.”

He doesn’t bother to ask any follow-up questions. He doesn’t bother to wait for Sam to say what he wants. Dean just marches up to the garage, vanishes for an hour—the diner is ten minutes away, and you start to feel your stomach and heart twist the longer he’s gone—and returns with a slam of the door, throwing a salad at Sam and placing a burger and milkshake in front of you before stomping out of the library.

Dean got your favorite flavor. You hadn’t told him to, but he had.

It tastes like chalk. And you’ve never hated yourself more.

After that, he barely speaks to you. Just low grunts and glowers at you whenever you cross paths, his presence in the bunked suddenly scares. He’d usually sit with you and Sam while you read, cracking unhelpful jokes that make Sam roll his eyes and you giggle, but he’s just gone. Locked in the Dean Cave or the garage, shuffling around the kitchen with a sullen expression, swallowing his dinner whole and refusing to really even look at you.

It hurts more than any anger could. It’s lonely and cancerous the longer it goes on, because you’re still talking to and hanging out with Sam, but he doesn’t count. Your whole heart isn’t orbiting around Sam. The curse is completely indifferent to Sam. The curse doesn’t care when Sam grumbles or frowns at you. It cares when Dean hates you. You think it can feel that this won’t be resolved—because it won’t be, you grow more and more certain with every passing day that this is how you will die—and takes the opportunity to root deeper into your body. Every sneer or glare Dean gives you sits under your nails to claw at your skin. It covers you in sweat in the dead of night, and chokes you when you’re in the shower and the water’s burning your skin.

Sam keeps trying to convince you to just do it, just say the thing to Dean because the worst that can happen is that you’re heartbroken but alive.

“And I really don’t think it would even come to that.” He tells you from across the table at 2am, because you’re running out of time and sleep isn’t something you can even remember how to do anymore. “I mean, it’s Dean-“

“That’s the problem, Samuel.” You hiss. The curse has started to make you mean, and if you make it out alive, you’ll have to buy Sam a million bottles of hair gel to make up for what you’re putting him through. “It’s Dean. He already doesn’t like me-“

Sam frowns. “Why would you think that-“

“Because I’m a responsibility.” You’re spitting, and it tastes like venom. “I’m your kid shadow, I’m Dean’s kid shadow, I’m a burden-“

“You’re not a burden,” Sam says your name slowly. “To either of us. I mean, if what you said about Rowena is true, you saved Dean from the Mark-“

“That doesn’t count. That was just a deal I made-“

“A deal you made for Dean.” Sam’s pushing back. You wish he’d stop. “Most people in our lives wouldn’t have done that for us. And Dean doesn’t think you’re his kid shadow, by the way. I mean, I’ve only ever-“

“Sam.” Your voice is flat. A little broken. “Please don’t. Even if he doesn’t hate me, I- I just can’t-“

“But Dean-“

“Please.” You’re going to cry again. “You won’t convince me.”

Sam sighs, shaking his head. “Well, we need to try something. I’m not just going to let you die.”

You don’t think that’s up to Sam. You don’t think it’s up to anyone anymore. You won’t tell Dean, because you’ve scanned over book after book about spell phrasing, and decided that telling Dean wouldn’t even help. You had to resolve your deepest secret. Rejection that burns your heart to ash, that clouds your lungs and makes you cower and falter won’t be resolving anything, and then you’ll just die in more pain.

You let Sam convince you to try something. More for him than for you. You lock yourself in the bathroom and stare at your hideous reflection in the mirror—your skin a little sunken, your eyes lined with red, your lips raw from being chewed until they bled—and start speaking a whisper, because you can’t stand the sound of your own voice.

“I love Dean Winchester.” You tell yourself, as if you’re not so deeply aware of how your love is tattooed onto your every breath and heartbeat. “I love him. I am going to die, and I love him, and I am very-“ You choke slightly, your eyes stinging as the world blurs. “I am very, very sorry. Not for loving him, but for forcing him to be loved by me. I’m sorry I don’t know how to stop loving him. I’m sorry I’m leaving him. But I am not sorry for loving him. I… I spent a lifetime surrounded by cruel animals who called themselves angels, and he’s the only person I’ve ever- I could believe- I just-“ You drop your head, turning up the faucet to drown out every weak sob and apology. “I love him. And he… he’s too good be obligated to love me. So I think I’ll just…”

You trail off, and crumble onto the tile floor. When you dry your tears and yank yourself back together, Sam’s waiting for you a little down the hall. You shake your head, his shoulders slump, and that’s it. For Sam it’s not—he turns around and marches right back to the library—but for you, it is. You’re done. 

You’ll hole up in your room and die alone. Like how’d you’d been meant to all along, lent only a little bit of extra time by Dean saving you to begin with.

And that time had run out. So you’ll just go die alone.

lay flat on your bed as your vision starts to dance with spots, and spend your time trying to image what a heaven you’re not allowed into will look like. Cas has told you every person gets their own, but you don’t really want that. It sounds like more of your life, and it’s pointless to worry about because you’re headed nowhere but down, but you’d still rather spend eternity with someone.

One person. You’d like to spend eternity with one person. 

The same person who had somehow gotten into your locked room, and is snapping your name as he stands at the foot of your bed. You’d be angrier he’d just barged in if you could remember how to be anything but in pain. You’d snap back if your mouth knew how to be anything but numb. 

“Dean-“

“What the fuck are you doing.” Dean hisses, and you close your eyes, the light suddenly painfully bright. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Nothing.” You whisper, and he scoffs. 

“Nice shot, sweetheart. I’m not an idiot.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Dean, I just don’t feel well.”

“That’s fucking bullshit-“

You sigh. “It’s not. I’m sick.” 

There’s a moment of silence, then, “how sick.”

“Fever.” You mumble. “Stomach bug. Maybe the flu. You should probably leave-“

“No,” he grunts, and you hear his steps. He’s coming closer, and your skin might be boiling off your body. “I’m not leaving you-“

“It’s not leaving if I ask you to go.” You mumble, and you can feel the heat of his body off to the side, can hear his breathing—maybe even his heartbeat—and it’s making everything worse-

“I’m not going.”

“Dean, just, please-“

“No, I’m sick of you fucking ignoring me, and I- I don’t even care what’s going on with you and Sam-“

You frown. “Nothing’s going on with me and Sam-“

“I have eyes,” Dean sneers your name, and there’s a tone in his voice that’s almost wounded. “You were hugging in his room, you’re always fucking whispering and hanging out-“

“That’s not-“ You swallow, dragging your eyes open to find him glaring down at you. He looks wounded too. “It’s for a case.”

“What case? A case that I’m not allowed to know about? Because that’s not a case, sweetheart, that’s a secret-“

You almost throw up, just from that word. “It’s- I’m not keep any secrets, Dean, just please go-“

“No!” He’s almost shouting, and the sound is like a cannon into your gut. “I don’t know what the hell is up with you, but you’re suddenly putting yourself in danger, and stuck to my brother, and you’re not talking to me anymore-“

“You’re not talking to me, Dean.” You whisper, his gaze burning you right down to the cavity of your chest. “I’m always in the library-“

“Yeah, I know, with Sam.” Dean scowls, and you’re too tired to think almost anything, but that’s strange. Dean never says Sam like that. Like it’s a horrible word. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, watching Dean carefully. “He’s helping me with something-“

“Something I can’t help you with?”

You blink, ready to lie and say no, but your mush of a brain doesn’t appear to be up to that task. “No.”

Dean’s brow furrows slightly. “So I could help you.”

“I-“ You feel a stab in your intestine, and your voice grows hoarse. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Why-“

“Because I- Just go away, Dean-“

He shakes his head, saying your name in a stern, unwavering voice. “Could I help you-“

“N-“ You swallow a groan as your lungs contract, and this is dangerous. You’re too far gone to lie anymore, and that’s the only chance you have. If Dean keeps poking at you, you’ll tell the truth. You can’t tell the truth. “Please just leave me alone-“

“I’m not leaving you alone.” He snaps, dropping onto the side of your bed to prove his point. “You never left me alone, with the Mark-“

“That’s not-“ You can’t swallow your next sound of pain, or the whine that leaves your throat when Dean’s hand grabs your thigh. “Dean, please go-“

“Do you want me to go.”

“No.” You say it before you can think, and hate that the pain over your muscles lessens when Dean stays, and when his hand starts to rub slow circles. “But you- you have to-“

“I said I’m staying.” He grunts. “And you’re not changing my mind, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“I did.” You whisper, closing your eyes again. Looking at his handsome, annoyingly determined face isn’t helping anyone. “I’m sick.”

“Fine. What’s making you sick.”

“Curse.”

Fuck.

Dean’s silent for a long moment, then-

“What the fuck do you mean, curse.”

“Me.” You mumble. “Curse on me.”

“And how did a curse get on you-“

“Rowena.”

“That fucking bitch.” He mutters, and you feel his grip on you tighten slightly. Almost protectively. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me-“

That was probably a rhetorical question. Your sudden truth-telling streak doesn’t seem to care at all. “I was worried you’d hate me.”

“I- what?”

“I was worried-“

“I heard you,” he grunts. “I just, why the hell would you ever think I’d hate you-“

“Because I suck.” You whisper. “And I can’t- I don’t deserve you.”

Dean’s silent again. You wish he’d stop doing that. “You think you don’t deserve me?”

You nod, barely a movement at all, and Dean groans. You’re still not strong enough to look at him.

“Sweetheart, you- I’m not-“ He cuts himself off, his hand resuming his circles, you’re not sure he knows he’s doing it. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to tell me the truth. Got it?”

You hum. Like you’d even have a choice.

“What will cure the curse.”

“I need to,” you try to fight down the words, but you’re light-headed and faint and Dean’s hand is really warm, so you fail. “I need to resolve my deepest secret.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “What’s your deepest secret?”

You’re going to bite off your tongue. And when Dean says your name again, his voice a little rougher, it drags your eyes open to stare at him. Watching you with a focus you can feel in your bones, that’s prying the truth out of you, and he’s just looking at you and you can’t do this-

“Dean, I-“ You digs your nails into your skin, something flashes in his eyes, and you can’t look away. But you can’t stop yourself either, and if you have to watch Dean’s disgust, that might kill you right here. “Please turn around.”

He frowns. “What?”

“I need you to turn around.” You whisper. “Please.”

He nods slowly, twisting away from you, and it’s like a green light to your stupid, traitorous mouth. The words fall out of you like vomit, and if this is the end, at least it might be fast. 

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years, and I’m sorry, but I can’t stop, and I don’t want to stop, and I love you. Only you. Just you. Can’t remember how to love anyone else, because I love you. I love your jokes and your grumpiness and how protective you are because you make me feel safe, and I love that you’re kind of a dork and a loser but you’re also so hot, I love your voice and your face and your hands, and I and I want you in a, um-“ You squeeze your thighs together, staring at the suddenly rapid rise and fall of Dean’s back. “A way that I shouldn’t talk about-“

“How do you want me.” He grunts, his voice low and a little gruff, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

“On me.” You whisper. “In me. I want you on my face and in my hands and fuck, I want your inside of me. But I also want to wake up next to you and hold your hand and fall asleep in your lap, and fuck-“

You cut yourself off with a whine as something sharp hits your right in the heart, and Dean’s silent. He’s not turning around, or leaving, or doing anything but sitting and breathing for so long, for too long-

“You-“ He shakes his head slightly, and you could swear he’s leaning slightly backward. “You want me.”

“Yeah, I- yes.”

“You love me.”

“Yes.” Too late to go back now. “I love you, Dean.”

“Why- why didn’t you tell me?”

He sounds broken. He sounds sad.

You’re so confused. It’s almost enough to distract from the pain racking your whole body.

“I- I didn’t think you’d-“ Not care. Dean couldn’t not care. He cares too much. “I wasn’t sure what-“

“What I’d say?”

“What you’d do.”

“What would you-“ He’s definitely leaning back. He’s closer, too. “What would you want me to do?”

“What would I want?” 

Dean nods.

“I- it doesn’t matter-“

“Yes it-“ He sighs, twisting around to face you. You can’t read the expression on his face. It’s lost and it’s afraid and it’s… hopeful. There’s this small light that’s so deep in his eyes that seems like real, true hope. “Please,” he mutters your name, and you might be melting. “Just, entertain me. What would you want me to do?”

“I’d want to tell me you love me.” You whisper, and if this curse is going to kill you, you hope it does it now, right before you lose all your dignity forever. “Like I love you.”

Dean shakes his head slightly, and your heart might be splitting in half. “But I- I tried to kill you-“

“The demon tried to kill me. That wasn’t really you-“

“Yes, it was-“

“No.” Your voice gains a little strength, and you push up on your elbows. “You saved me, Dean. You rescued me from the angels-“

“Anyone would’ve done that-“

“But they didn’t.” You snap. “You did. And I don’t love anyone, I love you.”

“That’s-“ He groans, his voice growing hoarse. “You- why?”

“What do you mean, why-“

“Why would you love me? I mean, unless this is some sick, fucked up prank-“

“It’s not a prank-“

“Well why?” He shouts your name, and he looks distressed. Like this is shredding him apart. “Why the hell would you love me-“

“Because I like loving you.” You grab his hand, his own panic starting to set into your own body, making this all the worse. “It feels right. And I- I know you don’t love me-“

You’re not sure what’s happening. Dean’s hands are cupping your face, and his mouth is on yours, and he tastes like whiskey and coffee and pecan, and you feel okay. You really feel okay. All the pain and sickness is dissolving from your body, and Dean is kissing you. Kissing you with an unforgiving, demanding desperation, his tongue down your throat and his body lowering down over yours, pinning you to the bed as he groans against your lips.

The sound jumpstarts something in you. Your arms wrap around Dean’s neck right before he can pull away or hesitate, and you throw everything he’s silently offering you back to him. Biting on his lower lip and wrapping your legs around his torso, grinding up into him as he makes a deep, satisfied noise and moves one hand to wrap around you waist, holding you steady against him as he rises up, moving you to stay in his lap.

“You’re, shit.” Dean lets out a low chuckle, pressing a small, gentler kiss to the tip of your nose as you breathe in ragged time. “You’re such a fucking idiot, sweetheart.”

You lean back to frown at him. “No I’m not-“

“Yeah, you are. But I am too.” He sighs, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and speaking against your skin. “Seems like we’re made for each other, huh.”

“Dean, I-“

“Wait, just-“ Dean kisses up the column of your throat, ending right behind your ear, and his voice a low sound that falls right down into your core. “Gimme a second.”

“Dean-“

“Please,” he mutters, and when you pull back he looks nervous. It’s strange, but adorable, and you nod. He needs a second, you’ll give him a million. Anything to keep him here a little longer, to keep the ebb of the sickness going. 

“Okay.” You whisper, and—taking the biggest gamble of your life—lean forward to kiss him again. Just a light, almost innocent press of your lips to his. He tenses, his arms around you tightening, and you’d have panicked if it didn’t seem like he was clinging to you. Like he was afraid you were going to vanish. 

“I- uh,” Dean says your name slowly, and it’s odd. You’ve heard him say it exactly like that a million, but this feels deeper. Like a prayer. “I lo-“ He cuts himself off, his brow drawing tightly together, and you can feel your heart in your throat. Set to either explode or move into Dean as you hold your breath. “You. I- you- it’s- fuck.” He scowls, and you offer him your gentler smile, running a hand over the soft stubble on his jaw, even as you feel your blood start to go cold again.

“Dean, you don’t have to-“

“Yeah. I do, I-“ He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and speaking against them as if he’s trying to tell your body more than your mind. “I love you. A lot. So stop being cursed.”

You stare at him, your voice barely a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Did it work?”

It did. The curse seemed to vanish the moment Dean kissed you—like it knew that what he was trying to tell you before he even said it—but now the world is just color and light and Dean. It’s enchanting. He’s enchanting. He’s all genuine and powerful focus on you, and. worry that makes you feel warm, and love you can suddenly see everywhere on him. You don’t know how you missed it before, because it’s in his eyes and coating his lips and in every flex of his body around you. It would knock you down if he wasn’t holding you. 

“Yeah.” You smile at Dean, and his own mouth tugs up slightly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He shrugs. “Any time. I, uh, sorry about getting pissed about you and Sam.“

“It’s fine, I-“ You paused, frowning at him. “Were you jealous?”

He scowls, his cheeks turning a little red. “Obviously.”

“Of Sam-“

“You were really close with him all the time.” Dean snaps. “And I- you seemed pissed at me, and super stressed, and usually you’d come to me for that stuff, but you were hugging Sam and talking to him instead of me-“

“Because I don’t love Sam. I love you, that’s why I told you-”

“I didn’t fucking know that.” He grumbles. “I- Sam doesn’t know everything about how I feel about you, but he knew enough, and I- I thought you were choosing him- And I- You’re not my girl but you felt like my girl and I didn’t-“

“Your girl?” Your face splits into a wide smile, and some of the tension seems to leave Dean as he nods. 

“Yeah. If you want.”

“Yes.” You squeak, and Dean’s hand starts to run slowly down your thigh. “Yes, please.”

“You sure?” He raises his brows, and it’s really hard to think when he’s so close, and this is suddenly overwhelmingly real. He’s really broad and warm against you, and he’s really touching you, and he said the thing but that doesn’t mean-

“Yeah, but are, are you sure-“

“Baby, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He drawls, and you swallow as he leans in closer, his nose bumping yours. “And I’d be very happy to prove that.”

“Prove it?” You whisper, your eyes trapped onto his glimmering, darkened ones. “I, um, that, how-“

“However you’d like,” he says your name with a smirk, and it’s amazing how any all insecurity he had only a minute ago seems to have vanished. “You wanna tell me how’d you want me to prove it? Or do you need some suggestions?”

You might be drooling. “Suggestions, please.”

Dean hums, holding you carefully as he rises on his knees, bends you down onto the mattress, and starts to trace slow, taunting hands over your body.

“We could start slow,” he mutters, playing with the hem of your shorts, broad fingers brushing over your skin. “I could take my time with you, sweetheart. Do the proper thing, take you out to dinner and movie, wait until the third date to give you everything-“

“No!” You yelp. “Not slow-“

Dean’s hand slides under your shorts, his palm resting right over your already sore pussy, and he chuckles at your high gasp. 

“Alright, baby, not slow.” He leans down to pull you into a long, slow kiss, smirking against your lips as you start to grind into his hand. “But we’re going on a date. I’ve had years to plan it, wouldn’t want all my hard work to go to waste.”

You nod a little stupidly, your nails digging into his arm braced near your head. “How- what do you mean years-“

“You’re not the only one who had that at first sight thing.” Dean mutters, shaking his head slightly. “I’ve lost sleep over you, baby girl. We’re going to do this right, no witches involved, but,” he drops his head to kiss right behind your ear, humming as a high moan escapes your lips. “I’ve got a million things I want to do you, and fuck me if I’m going waste time not doing them.”

“Yeah, good, do that-“ You gasp as Dean’s thumb finds your clothed clit, starting to draw firm, fast circles around it. “Shit, Dean-“

“That’s my name.” He growls in your ear, flicking against you and smirking at your high whine. “C’mon, sweetheart gotta get you ready for me-“

“I, I’m ready-“

He chuckles. “No, you’re not. Wanna make you feel good, not break you.”

“What if, fuck-“ You feel a brief, sharp moment of cold air as Dean pulls your shorts and panties down, shoving two fingers into your cunt. He’s watching you so carefully, like he’s studying your every hitched breath and blurred gaze, smirking as he begins to slowly move inside of you, scissoring and crooking and pushing in deeper every time-

“What if what, pretty girl?” He teases, his pace increasing slightly. “Use your words.”

Your back arches off the bed as Dean re-angles his hand, pressing his palm to your clit and starting to rub strong, sharp circles as his fingers reach a blissful, almost painfully good pace, but remain too shallow to hit that sensitive spot deep your cunt and send you over the edge. “What if I want you to break me?” You gasp, your arm wrapping around his neck as he groans, dropping his brow against yours. “Please, Dean-“

“You, fuck-“ He grunts your name, and you feel something prodding at your inner thigh. “Not now, baby, need to be gentle-“

“No you don’t-“

“Yeah, I do.” Dean’s movements still as he rises on his knees over you, and you’re pretty certain the authoritative thing is supposed to be stern and intimidating, but it’s mostly just making you grind on his hand and reach up for him pathetically.

“Dean-“

“Listen to me.” He snaps, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mattress, sighing as you moan again, squeezing around his fingers, still in your cunt. “Fuck, you nearly just died-“

“I’m okay now.” You whisper. “I feel great. I feel, fuck Dean, I feel so good-“

He hisses as you spread your legs, writhing on the bed for anything, at this point you’ll take anything Dean offers you-

“Fuck yeah, you do.” He mutters, his fingers starting to pump slowly again, scanning over your body with an almost awestruck expression. “Bet you feel like heaven, baby girl, but we need to go slow. I promise I can wreck you later, but today-“

“Slow.” You sigh, and he nods.

“Slow. But,” Dean’s free hand starts to trail under your shirt, palming at your breasts, rolling your nipples between calloused, strong fingers. “Doesn’t mean we can’t take care of you, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck this tight little pussy, still going to get you fucking cockdrunk. Okay?”

You nod, your eyes slightly glazed over, and Dean bends his fingers deep inside you, right one that spot, letting out a low gasp as you whine.

“Say okay, sweetheart.” He grunts, his hand moving from your breast, over your neck, to your mouth, pressing his thumb on your lower lip until it parts. You moan against him, your eyes fluttering slightly, and you’re already too high, too needy, to do anything but listen.

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” He coos, slowly pushing his thumb between your lips, his nostrils flaring when you start to suck on him with an abandon. “Fuck, so good, I can’t wait to ruin you, baby, you’re never gonna even think about another cock-“

You haven’t thought about another cock in years, and you haven’t even seen it yet. But Dean’s thumb is bumping the back of your throat, so all you can do is moan, give him your best pleading look, and let your head fall back as Dean’s fingers finally move inside of you, pushing and playing on the spot until your orgasm washes over you in bright waves of good. So good. Just, fuck, he’s good-

Dean’s thumb pulls out of your mouth with a pop, and he wipes a little bit of spit off on your upper lip before lowering his mouth to yours, this kiss far too soft and gentle for how you think you might die if he doesn’t fuck you now.

“Look so pretty, cumming on my hand.” Dean moves to the shell of your ear, his growling promise sending a shiver up your spine. “Bet you’ll look prettier fucking squeezing my cock.”

You barely have time to whimper when Dean yanks his fingers out of your cunt, rolls you over so you’re straddling his torso, and raises you up by your hips before pushing you right down onto his dick. You don’t even remember when he took off his pants, or where your shirt went, but those are worries for someone who isn’t being split open on Dean’s cock. Who doesn’t have him drawing small circles on their inner thigh, or isn’t being held up by his hand on their waist.

But you do. You have Dean everywhere, real and warm under your hands as you grip his shoulders, bumping deep against your cervix as he lets you adjust to the size of him, one broad finger reaching down to press—light and taunting—on your clit, and groaning as you squeeze around him.

“Shit,” Dean grunts your name, looking up at you under hooded eyes in a way you don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you before. As if you’re somewhere they’d always expected to be, and they’re still in awe that you’re there. “Gotta be careful, want this to-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you grind on him experientially, clenching again as he hits that electric spot deep inside you. He grabs you firm by your hips, stilling your every movement as he gives you a stern glower. 

“You need to listen.” His voice is gravely and lower than you’ve ever heard it, and you’d do whatever he told you to, but that doesn’t mean you can’t whine and scratch lightly at his chest. 

“Dean, move-“

“You gonna listen?”

“Yes, just, fuck-“ You gasp as he pulls you up with barely a grunt, slamming your right back down with a roll of your hips. 

“Want you to feel good, baby girl, but you need to be careful,” Dean drags one had down to squeeze your ass, his hand still on your waist drawing light circles around your clit. “Or next time might be more than wrecking.”

Your moan is vulgar and shameless, and you’re more than ready to devote sleep to figuring out what more than wrecking will look like, but right now you just fucking need this. 

“Need more, Dean,” you whisper. “Need it so bad-“

“I know, sweetheart.” He mutters, trailing his hand up your stomach to squeeze your breast, groaning when you squirm around him. “Think you’re ready to ride this cock? Think you can handle, shit-“

You’d stared to move the movement he’d said ride, rolling your body and arching your back, dragging every bit of confidence you have to grind down onto Dean’s cock, your nails sinking into his abdomen.

“Fuck, yeah.” Dean’s voice is a breath under you, and when you scan over him, he lookslike he’sa little wrecked himself.His eyes on yours are hooded and low, his voice dripping with that same dominating confidence, but something more delicate in the way he’s touching you. Not as if he’s afraid to break you, but afraid you’ll shatter him. 

And you did that. You wrecked Dean. And that lights a wildfire in your gut, running through your nerves until they’re sensitive and bare, and into your brain until it’s all just Dean.

You start to move. Slowly at first to test the waters, but—when Dean just groans and ruts up into you—quickly picking up pace until you’re bouncing on Dean’s cock, your thighs squeezing his torso and your clit rubbing on his abdomen, his ever grunt and hiss and bruising grip just making your need grow bigger as you slam him onto that deep spot-

“Shit, I’m- Slow down-“ 

Dean’s hiss is low, and you immediately obey, changing to long, slow movements as Dean hums. 

“There you go baby, such a good girl.” His hand moves from your ass to your lower back, rubbing soothing patterns as he praises you. “You’re so hot baby, fucking ruined on my cock-“

You make a high, breathless sound you don’t recognize, moving your hips in a circle to try and chase more friction, and Dean chuckles.

“You alright up there-“

“Good,” you moan, your eyes fluttering shut to try and focus your all on Dean beneath you. “So good, Dean, feels so good-“

“Need a little more?”

“Yes-“

“More descriptive than that, sweet girl.” He teases, and when this is done, you’re going to kill him. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to-“

“You,” the word falls out without thought, because most of you belongs to Dean. “Just you, only need you-“

“You love me?” Dean’s voice is low, and when you open your eyes to look at him, there’s a small chink in his armor. You don’t know if you pried it open, or if you’ve just never noticed, but you can see right into him, and he still doesn’t really believe that you love him.

And that’s the only thing you’ve ever really know. You loving Dean has been the only truly certain thing in your life, because Dean’s a given and loving him feels like breathing.

So you smile at him, reaching forward to cup his face, and tell him with everything you have, hoping he can hear how the words are in time with your heart.

“I love you,” you whisper. “And I’m yours.”

He blinks at you, shaking his head slightly even as his dick twitches inside you. “You don’t need to be, it’s- you know, dirty talk-“

“I know.” You shrug. “I’m still yours.”

Dean’s nostrils flare, and you know you’re not getting control back from him for the rest of the night.

You’re fine with that. Dean starts to rock you back and forth around him, letting you just fall into and around him, and your lost to any world that isn’t Dean. Isn’t his hand splayed on your lower back or his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and ass. Anything that isn’t his cock hitting part of you that you didn’t know existed and filling you up so much you’re not sure how you’re ever going to manage being empty again.

You don’t think you will have to manage. Dean’s holding you like he’s trying to brand himself on your body, like he needs you feel him for the rest of your life. And you will. You’ll feel the bliss Dean’s drawing from your body that’s better than any heaven you could have imagined, rising slowing below the surface, ready to burst at any moment.

You’ll hear him too. Hear every deep noise of his own pleasure, hear the slapping of his skin on yours, hear his low praise echo around your head and ribs for the rest of your life.

“You’re mine, baby girl.” He growls, the sound rumbling in his chest and rolling right into your pussy, making you throw your head back with a breathy whimper. “Fuck, you’re so hot riding me, feel so good around me, tight and warm-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you reach behind your body, your hand finding his balls to squeeze lightly. 

“Goddamnit, sweetheart-“ He groans, jerking slightly inside of you. “Fuck, keep doing that, so fucking needy for me, fucking soaking this cock-“

You grind around him, and his pace starts to lose rhythm. Even after he swats your hand away you know he’s lost his own self-control, and fuck he looks hot without it. Starting to rut up into you in uncontrolled movements, pulling you to pieces with a lustful, ardorous gaze and brutal pace and strong hands, moving back to your clit and rolling it between his fingers-

Your mouth falls open in a silent, needy cry of pleasure as your orgasm bursts over you. It’s not sudden, but you couldn’t never anticipated the power of it—like someone had doused you in gasoline that smells like whiskey and fruit, lit a match, and turned to into a star—or how it rides on and on, never seeming to crest or crash as Dean slams home inside of you, warmth coating your pussy and running down your thighs as he moans your name. 

Dean helps you float down to earth, leaving careful, deliberate touches on your skin and humming as his knees rising up to support you. You watch his gaze rakes down your body, lingering on where he can see himself spill out of your pussy, and moves to slowly drag through the mess, gathering some on two fingers before rising them up to your mouth. You open without hesitation and his throat bobs, his cock twitching inside you as you lick his release off his hand, your eyes never leaving his wide, reverent one.

“Son of a bitch.” He mutters. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

You let out a soft laugh. “You stole my line.”

“Nah.” He shrugs, tracing a hand over your cheek. “You could have anyone you want, baby, but you’re here, with an asshole like me-“

“You’re not an asshole.”

“Yeah, I am.” He shrugs, like you can’t see how his own words pierce him through that chink. “Shit, I just accused you of sleeping with Sam-“

“And I’ve been lying to you for years.” You lean down, resting your chin on his chest, giving him your widest smile. “Neither of us are saints, Dean. And I happen to be the right kind of fucked up to let possessiveness hot.” You pause, giving him your best stern glare. “To a degree. I will slap you the next time you accuse me of fucking Sam.” 

Dean laughs, his around wrapped—gentle and relaxed—around you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You hum, resting your head to the side, and you might be here for a hundred years. Time blurs and slows until it’s just Dean’s heartbeat near your ear, his thumb tracing a pattern on your arm, and his face buried in your hair. The end of the world might have already come to pass when his hand moves to your chin and he angles your gaze to his, and you wouldn’t really care. You’re still where you need to be.

“Would you,” he lets out a slow breath, all his cocky arrogance gone, his eyes on yours nervous. The hope is back, but it’s wrapped in soft fear. “I’m not good at- shit-“

He’s going to hurt himself, and you take pity on him. You lean does to press a sweet kiss to his mouth, letting your tongue trail over his lips, and rising back up with a small smile.

“Can we go on a date, Dean?” 

He chuckles, nodding. “Yeah. Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Your smile strains at your cheeks, because you only want Dean. 

And you’ll have to write Rowena a thank you note, because you finally have him.

End Note: Me make a story with no prior lore challenge: impossible

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

@arcticwisteria @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007

[intoanotherworld23]

Sweet As Peach Cobbler

Warnings: explicit sexual content, mature themes, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Tyler, submissive reader, implied sex, praise kink, dirty talk

Summary: Tyler loves his desserts, and you just happen to be his favorite

A/N: Hey y’all it’s been quite a while since I’ve posted anything on here, but I’ve just been going through some personal stuff, and needed some time to myself. I am back though and ready now more than ever to keep writing for you guys! I wanted to dabble in writing for someone new, and since Glen Powell has become so popular I knew I had to write some things for him! Let me know if I should write some more for him, and if you would like to be added to the tag list! Don’t forget to comment and reblog it would be greatly appreciated! Love you guys thanks so much for being amazing! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Feeling absolutely reduced to a hot and sweaty mess as you laid underneath Tyler. Who was staring at your disheveled face. A look of pride written across his face as your body trembled around him.

"I've never seen you cum so much sweetheart." Praising you as a hand covers your eyes in embarrassment. "You did so good for me baby."

That powerful and mind blowing release had you almost in tears. Trying with all your might not to just cry in front of him. Feeling like that might weird him out a little bit. Since he could take tears as being in pain or discomfort, and then he would stop, and you didn't want him to stop. Your body was feeling overwhelmed as it continued to shake underneath his fingertips.

"Let me see those pretty eyes of yours." His deep voice persuades you as your hands slowly moved away from your face to look up at his smirking one.

"Tyler." Whining his name as he snickers keeping his cock still absolutely still inside of you.

"Whadda you need pretty girl?" He teases feeling your cunt clenching around you making him groan.

Tyler knew exactly what you wanted, but was still too shy to say anything to him. He always helped you ease your way into expressing what you wanted with him. Giving you a little bit without asking him, and then getting you to finally speak up. Carefully pulling out from your raw cunt your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. Feeling his cum ooze out of your body his hand massaging your inner thigh soothingly.

"Fuck me baby girl look at you." Watching as his liquid spilled out of you and trailed down between your cheeks. He was licking his lips wanting nothing more than to lick it all up, and taste how delicious you both were mixed. That's exactly what he did too.

His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.

"Oh god." Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Tyler looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.

Reaching a hand over to your pelvis as his thumb started to rub circles on your nub. Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Tyler could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.

"Tastes like peach cobbler baby girl." His low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused over and over again.

Tyler’s favorite dessert was in fact peach cobbler, and the fact he said you tasted like it made your head spin. It would make sense since he could never get enough of you.

Feeling a pair of soft lips gently caressing your thighs and inner knees a trail of saliva being left behind. Sex was always amazing with Tyler, but the one thing you loved just as much was the aftercare. His touch was always so gentle and comforting as he would help ease you through each orgasm.

"Fucked that pretty cunt so good, didn't I?" His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Tyler already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.

"So proud of you my sweet peach." His nickname had you smiling as Tyler pulled you into his arms and laid you on top of his warm body. Listening to the sound of his heart beating, and the rise and fall of his chest was easing you into a slumber like state. "Oh I’m not done with you yet sweets."

[mindmelter]

Alien Appetite: Snacking The Biker

I chuckled at the funny face this random biker made at the moment my alien buddy crawled inside his ear.

I just love the faces they make whenever they're having their brains taken over by Cosmo, my tiny alien bug. They always freeze on the spot with those dumb facial expressions. Usually, with their eyes bulging in shock and their tongues hanging out. Sometimes, their eyes roll back, and some even stare in opposite directions, but they always have their tongues hanging out. It's kinda Cosmo's signature by now.

I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo of this one's face. It might sound weird, but I like to collect photos of the faces they make during the takeover. I have hundreds of photos like this saved on my phone because I like to jerk off to them later.

I heard a squishy sound coming from inside his head, and suddenly, his left eye moved abruptly in an unnatural, opposite direction. I chuckled as I snapped another photo. It was such a drastic contrast from the loud arrogant brat that he was just a few minutes ago...

_____________________

I was walking outside in search of the perfect host for Cosmo, who is my tiny alien bug who needs sperm to survive. The problem is—Or blessing, in my opinion—he is too small to digest the cum by himself; he needs a host body to digest the cum for him. So every month, when he gets hungry, we go hunting for a poor, unfortunate soul to become his next digestive system for the month. And, of course, once he finds the host, I'm more than happy to feed him with my cum.

I was starting to lose any hope of finding a suitable host. Half the day had passed, and I still hadn't found a hot man. Of course, any guy would serve to become a host, but I was a gay dude! Of course, I only wanted to pick the hottest guys. But I'm not that selfish, there was also the fact that fit, healthy guys had the tastiest and strongest cum, and Cosmo was very picky about his food. That was Cosmo's own words, not mine.

I sighed in disappointment. I was usually very good at hunting. Just like last month, I found a rich, muscular black hunk at the gas station. We had so much fun with that host; I was already missing sucking on that huge black cock... maybe I should pay him a visit tonight after finding Cosmo a host. Before leaving his hosts empty, Cosmo would always program what was left of their brains to continue living their lives on autopilot even without free will... of course I also asked him to make them treat me like their Master.

The autopilot thing was all my idea. Before I met Cosmo, he would basically leave his hosts in a vegetative state. The police had no clue why men in the city were being found with parts of their brains missing and their own cum in their mouths.

The search for a host continued without success. Maybe it just was a bad day, I thought.

As I was walking on the sidewalk of a house, I suddenly heard the loud screech of tires and the roar of an engine. A young, handsome biker abruptly stopped his bike just inches from where I stood. A few more inches, and he would have run me over.

It was my fault, I suppose I was too lost in my thoughts to notice the bike approaching, but before I could apologize, he spoke.

"Hey! Watch where you're going dumbass! I don't want a fat human pancake right in front of my house!" He shouted, flipping me his two middle fingers in a cocky manner.

I just stood there in front of him with my mouth agape, completely amazed by this good looking young biker.

His curly brown hair peeked out from under his backward cap, and the white tank top he wore showcased his toned, tattooed arms. He exuded effortless charm and youthful energy, even when being an arrogant prick. Those were always my favorites.

He would be perfect, I thought.

So, in a quick move, I grabbed Cosmo out of my pocket and watched as he flapped his tiny wings and flew towards the biker, finding his way right into the arrogant brat's ear. Instinctively he slapped his ear as soon as he felt the intrusion, making his cap fall to the ground. But it was too late for him, because in seconds, his eyes bulged, and he stuck his tongue out.

A familiar sign that Cosmo had reached for the brain.

_____________________

Now, he is sitting on his bike, frozen and with the dumbest and hottest face expression ever.

I ran my hand over his curly hair and leaned closer to his face. His tongue was so big and inviting, just hanging out there, drooling. I just couldn't hold myself, I had to taste it. So I started to suck on that huge tongue with passion. He didn't respond to my sloppy kiss—of course, with an alien bug consuming parts of his free will, he was incapable of doing anything.

But little by little, I started to feel his tongue reacting to mine until I felt his hand on the back of my head, pushing me harder against his mouth, locking our mouths together. I felt his strong tongue dominating mine, making me melt into his muscular tattooed arms while I just let him explore my mouth, making sure he was pushing his tongue as deep into my mouth as he could. He then pulled away and smirked at me. "Master needs privacy for his feeding. Follow me to the garage." He said, with some traces of his arrogant persona still present in his voice.

"Is this your house?" I asked.

"It's my parents' house. They're inside so we're going to have to use the garage to feed my Master."

We walked into the garage, and once Inside, I closed the door, the garage was dark except for the light coming from the garage door's window.

I couldn't see anything, but when I turned around, I saw the biker lying on a car's trunk. He had unbuckled his belt already and was staring at me.

"Wanna make the honors?" He asked as he teasingly slid his hand inside his underwear.

I immediately dropped to my knees between his legs and pulled down his pants. His throbbing cock was bulging inside his boxers, and judging by the bulge, I knew he was well-hung.

Just another point in my favor, as Cosmo had a preference for well-endowed hosts to ensure proper feeding. I was very good at the game of spotting the most well-hung men, not even Cosmo knew how I was always right, call it my secret gay power.

With a single pull, his underwear joined his pants on the floor, and I was greeted with the sight of his 8 Inches hard cock, pulsating with life and leaking at the tip.

He put his finger on the leaking tip and sucked on his finger. He savored the taste for a moment and then made a *not bad* expression, "Master approves my cum," The young biker said. With that, his eyes rolled back, and he started to bend forward, his head becoming closer and closer to his hard dick. I heard some cracking and snapping sounds coming from him as he bent forward to the point he was unnaturally folded in half. His face was now just a few inches away from his cock. He opened his mouth, and his long tongue came out. His lips wrapped around the head and engulfed his shaft.

His eyes were still white as he took inch by inch and started to suck himself off with gusto.

The feeding was always my favorite part. I just continued on my knees, watching from closer this handsome cocky biker suck his own cock like he has done it a hundred times before.

In truth, he was just obeying Cosmo's commands, who surely had done it a hundred times before.

It didn't take long, and his muffled grunts filled the garage, he gulped down his cum like he was drinking water. Then he finally detached his lips from his shaft with a loud 'POP' sound.

A few more cracking and snapping sounds and he was sitting normally. He placed one hand behind his neck and stretched out, letting out a long sexy grunt.

"Fuuuckkk... my neck hurts so fucking bad, but anything to feed my Master," He said between grunts as he exposed his hairy armpit.

I leaned forward and buried my face in his musky pit. He didn't react and just allowed me to worship his sweaty armpits. He tasted and smelled like a real man.

"What's your name boy?" I asked as I took a deep long sniff.

"It's none of your business, you dirty fa-" He suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, and his body tensed. Then his expression softened, and he continued talking, but now less aggressive. "My name is Blake..." he answered casually, "That's it, enjoy my armpits, you gay whore. They're sweaty and musky from a day of riding my bike with my friends under the sun."

I chuckled, "Your armpits taste wonderful, but there's a little alien inside your brain who enjoyed your cum a lot more than I enjoyed your pits. Cosmo is very picky about his food, you should be proud." I said, without taking my mouth from his armpit.

"Well, what can I say? Every girl who’s had the pleasure of getting a taste has only ever come back for more. My cum is alpha-grade, the kind that leaves anyone craving for more. They know it, I know it, and let’s be honest, who wouldn’t want a piece of that?" He braged, jerking his still hard shaft.

I smirked at that. I loved how Cosmo always kept their cocky personas even after becoming mindless meat puppets. Ok, I might have begged him to keep them this way instead of just turning them into cold robots, I liked them with some of their personalities. I continued licking and sniffing his armpits for almost an hour until he suddenly pushed my head away.

"Ok, that's enough dude! Jesus, you're not the only one hungry here. Get up,"

I did what I was told. As I stood, the tent in my pants was on full display. He stood up and stepped in front of me. His face was so close to mine that I could smell his cum on his mouth.

"Master is not sated yet, he wants more. Unfortunately, I already gave him everything I had in my balls, which wasn't much since I was in my girlfriend's house early today and I wasted my cum on that bitch."

My cock throbbed, knowing what was about to happen.

"Master is telling me that the only reason you helped him turn me into his brainless vessel was so you could receive a blowjob from a hot straight guy like me, is that true?"

I could only nod. He snorted in disgust. "I fucking can't believe I had parts of my brain consumed and my free will destroyed by an alien just because a pathetic gay guy is horny. You're sick, dude."

I was completely lost in the moment as the biker knelt in front of me. His lifeless green eyes were locked onto mine as he pulled down my pants, and when his mouth opened, I fixed my eyes on that massive tongue of his; thick and wet. Finally, his tongue wrapped around my shaft like it had a mind of its own. Holy shit, it felt incredible!

He started working me with that tongue, sliding it up and down my shaft like he was savoring every inch. His lips wrapped around my tip, sucking gently, while his tongue did all kinds of wild things, swirling and caressing me in ways that made my knees weak. I let out a low groan, my fingers found their way into his curly hair.

"Fuck," I muttered, totally overwhelmed by the sensation. I tightened my grip on his hair and pushed his head down further, feeling him take me deeper. His throat clenched around me, warm and wet, driving me crazy. He let out a soft moan, and the vibrations sent shivers through my whole body.

I pulled his head back a little, just to take in the sight of this arrogant biker's face. Then I pushed him back down, harder this time. His tongue kept going, sliding up and down my length, hitting all the right spots. I could feel that tension building inside me, I was getting close.

I grabbed his hair tighter, forcing his face against my crotch, making him take me all the way. He gagged a little but didn't back off—they never do—his hands gripped my thighs like he was begging for it. Watching him give in like that, so completely under the alien's control, pushed me right to the edge.

Finally, I pulled out and aimed straight at his tongue, which was hanging out, already waiting. My cum shot out, covering his tongue and dripping down his chin. He opened his mouth wider, letting me see it all before swallowing every last drop. I knew Cosmo was enjoying it just as much as I was, feeding off everything.

When he swallowed the last of it, he looked up at me with that blank gaze and a satisfied smirk. "No matter how many vessels I make, your cum will always be my favorite, my human friend," Cosmo finally said through Blake's voice.

Since that day, Blake became Cosmo's feeding host for the month and he would often send me a message asking me to meet with him.

_____________________

*One month later*

It was 4:00 AM. I was sleeping with Cosmo's previous host, the muscular black hunk that we found at the gas station last month. We were cuddling together when I was awakened by the sound of a text message. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and saw it was a message from Blake. He sent me a mirror photo with a text.

"Master is hungry again, meet me at the parking lot near my house." Was all the message said.

"I'm on my way." I responded.

I grabbed my car keys and drove to the location. Arriving there, the parking lot was desertic like you would expect to be at 4:00 AM. It was cold, luckily I had put on a hoodie. I didn't have to wait long—Soon I saw Blake walking towards me, shirtless, wearing only his pajama pants. Looking hot as always.

"Sorry for waking you this early. I'm just very hungry. I need to eat some strong healthy cum, not some thin, unnourished cum," Cosmo said in full control of Blake.

"Blake isn't producing enough cum anymore? I assume," I asked as I pulled down my pants, freeing my flaccid cock, it was cold. Blake kneeled between my legs and started to stroke my shaft, right there in the open.

"He can only produce a few drops now. Not enough to keep me sated." He said putting his hands inside his pants.

He pulled out his cock and slapped it, I watched as It jiggled. "This thing is completely useless now."

"Wow, you really ran this host out fast, and Blake was a healthy young man, he should last for at least 40 days. You're becoming too greedy, you need to learn to control your hunger so the hosts can last longer."

Cosmo had to change hosts every month because, eventually, the hosts he was possessing would become infertile and stop producing cum forever. It was a side effect of the takeover and the constant feeding. Cosmo had explained to me before about the scientific factors behind the host's infertility, but I didn't dare to try to understand.

I moaned as I felt Blake's warm mouth closing around my shaft, it felt nice from the cold. "Fuck, I'm going to miss Blake. What do you think of us searching for a new host tomorrow? I'm sure Blake here would love to help us turn one of his hot friends into a brainless puppet just like him," I said between moans, as I finally gave Cosmo what he was so hungry for.

[my-castles-crumbling]

salt - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 234

"It looks lovely, James," Regulus lies fluidly, eyeing the concoction placed in front of him.

Because how could he not lie? James has never been more excited. He's been planning for weeks, double- and triple- checking Regulus's likes and dislikes, just to make sure this meal is perfect.

It's a crime, Regulus thinks privately. Effie is one of the most amazing cooks he's ever met, and yet James manages to burn microwave popcorn.

But James's excitement is catchy, and his idea to cook Regulus a meal to celebrate his promotion was so sweet that Regulus just couldn't bring himself to say no. So now he's sitting here, wondering how this plate of 'food' in front of him could really be called chicken when it looks like burnt leather.

"You try it first!" James offers, watching eagerly as Regulus struggles to cut a piece and gingerly puts it in his mouth, reminding himself over and over again that James is sweet, and kind, and loves him, and is amazing in bed.

"Wow," he mumbles, trying to swallow the salty hunk of meat without tasting it. "It's...wow."

"You really think so?" His boyfriend asks, eyes lighting up. "Oh, good. I was so nervous."

And it's only James's joy that makes him eat a few more bites. That is, until the other man eats some himself.

"Reg, this is awful! How the fuck do you like this?"

[pedge-page]

Daddies, Daddies, Daddies

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: you're marrying your fiance, but your mind is already on banging his father

Warnings: infidelity, unprotected sex, step dad, father in law, Daddy kink and I'm choosing not to specify more tags as they are spoilers. Read at your own discretion

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Even as you say your vows to your soon to be husband, his and your smiles beaming of future endeavors, you can't help but glance towards his impeccably handsome dad, and you're soon to be father in law. You had a thing for broad chested, soft tummied, grey speckled dilfs, and this hunk was no exception.

Yes, you love your man to be, but getting to know his family...intimately was part of the whole marriage package too. Can you blame a woman? And the way his bulge practically waved at you through those tight slacks so prettily, begging you to take a seat on your new papa in laws lap had you swaying with excitement. Heat filled your core as you grinned and held hands with your fiance. He's rambling about his promises and devotion, but your brain is too focused on what his dad's plump lips will feel lie devouring your little cunt while everyone else will be too busy getting food at the reception.

He had been eying you the entire engagement. From the moment you were introduced, his gaze traveled to your cleavage and ass before settling on your lips and shaking his hand.

It beyond amazes you he hasn't taken the next step, so far going no further than his hand grazing your lower back and prolonged hugs where youe tits pressed against his chest. He teased you for months without saying anything, but maybe he's even sluttier than you are: waiting for you to be taken before he can make a new claim. You sucking on your tongue at the image of getting railed in his powder room during Sunday lunches at your in laws house, or giving him a "tour" of your bedroom with his thick member pulsing in your mouth when they come over for Thanksgiving.

You couldn't wait to add that old man's cock to your pussy list.

"I do!" You say right on cue, and the two of you seal your kiss of matrimony with a racous applause.

After the ride to the reception hall, a bunch of hugs and warm welcomes, you're so close to getting your hands on your new daddy, so close to introducing him to his new sweet little cunt he's gonna make a happy future in, when your step dad yanks you right out of the hall and into the restroom.

"Daddy!" You shout, surprised by his grip.

"What? Thought you were gonna give everyone else some attention but your old man?" Joel tuts, tracing his rough lips across the smooth expanse od your exposed shoulders. "Or did you think you were gonna give some of my pussy away to your new daddy?"

"You're not my old man," you clarify, but you don't stop his familiar touch over your body.

He chuckles. His hands settle along your waist protectively. "You're my little girl as far as everyone else is concerned today. I'm the only daddy who showed up to give ya away didn't i? S'okay. Just like you, I didn't mean shit up there either."

You sigh, melting a bit as he presses a wet kiss to your pulse point.

"Thought you were gonna be done with me even after you got married? Gonna get a new daddy cock to ride every morning to work? Eric, that's his dad's name right? Saw ya eyin him all durinf the ceremony. Little slut, cant even say i do to a man ya marrying before drooling about his daddys dick? Yeah. Honey, he couldn't handle you like I do. Neither of em."

He smirks in the mirror as he licks your cheek with a fat strip, side eying the way your eyes get hazy in the mirror. His hands slope down your chest to cup your breasts in that gorgeous wedding dress he helped you decide on. The one that gives just the right amount of appropriate yet subtle sexiness. He squeezes the plumpness of your tits before pulling the corset line down, your titties falling free for his large palms to knead while you gasp.

"Stop thinking about getting another daddy cock in this pussy. You got one right here--" he pushes his bulge further into your ass, forcing you to grip the sink and hold yourseld from falling forward-- "right here, baby doll, to give ya everything you need. Never had a complaint not wantin my cock, did ya?"

You smirk drunkly, shaking your head. "No daddy. I love this cock."

Joel kisses the shell of your ear before unbuckling his belt and hoisting the skirt of your dress up.

You gasp when he slides his hardened length along your already soaked folds.

"How about we start working on that baby you were always wanting, huh? You been beggin me for it, told ya gotta wait till you're married. Even your In law daddy Eric mentioned he couldn't wait for ya to get round with grand babies. How bout that? He n i got somethin in common already."

He slides in, forcing your walls to part to accommodate his intrusion.

Joel sets a low pace, gripping your hip tightly as he ruts into your ass with fat slaps, his cock getting sucked right in with each thrust "Except this pussy. He ain't touching this sweet little precious cunt. Shit doll, youre soaking wet just thinking bout old man cock today, huh? Yeah, don't you worry baby. Your step daddy gonna get that baby in ya sooner than you know it. Gonna provide everything ya need. Won't need to go to your new family's side for nothin. We can keep everything exactly how it is."

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda

[somerandomdot]

Random Nsfw Halsin Headcanons

Hello I’m just trying something out, if you like it or have a different opinion or would like to share yours you may. Id appreciate if you suggested kinda, anything! Thank you for reading)

Omg I love his eyes in this GIF bro, his puppy eyessss

First off, for some reason this part in my brain just screams that this man has a dry humping kink, or any kinda of just pinning in general.

BIG MAN HANDS ON ME. Sorry, okay his hands are on your waist, shoulder, honestly any part he can grab at. His hands are either on your body or in your hair. He is a handy man.

One hundred percent this man has a breeding kink, I mean obviously… as nature intended

Going back to the pinning thing, I feel like with how large this hunk of a elf is he generally wouldn’t want to use much strength being worried of hurting you.

Honestly I feel like him putting half of his weight on top of you, or pushing himself against you is already crushing enough. So he’d be rather soft and slow at first.

We already know Halsin already is a giver when it comes to head, but one thousand percent he would like the same treatment. But would not really ask for it, so you’d probably have to ask him, since he’d never expect you too, caring about your pleasure and getting off on it.

If he’s on the receiving side of head, I feel like he’d not be the whimper type at all, but just groans, heavy breathing and saying your name/praises while you work on him with your mouth.

This man cannot keep his hips still, he’d be bucking into your mouth every so often, then apologizing for it as you’d gag from the unexpected thrust.

I can imagine this man is, rather large and thick when it comes to his sizing, rather on the more thick around the tip and thinning out to the base.

I feel like he wouldn’t be into heavy kinks, unless you’d ask to try something else/share kinks your with him. I feel like he’d be more into passionate sloppy sex.

His favorite position is either picking you up while he’s standing, your legs around his waist, back against any surface or none at all and his hands on your hips or wrapped around you as he controls the momentum by either thrusting up into you or literally lifting you up and down by your hips or just bear hugging you. (Had too) Or either the classic missionary, legs over his shoulders or around his waist as he thrusts into you as you layback and enjoy it.

Halsin enjoys long sessions rather than short ones, taking his time and edging himself and you. Agonizingly slow soft thrusts to than picking up his pace and roughness for a bit then continuing onto the slow soft ones.

He’d slowdown once you announce that you’re getting close, but if he unsuccessfully edges you as you hit your climax he wouldn’t punish you. If anything he’d make the session last longer enjoying the way you twitch and shudder beneath him or against him.

Eventually when he’s done edging himself and you he’d change his pace to a slow but rough thrusting, while he praises you or either has his head pressed into you neck, occasionally bites and nibbles on your neck and shoulders.

Only time I feel like he’d actually moan or whimper is while he puts it in or while he is comes.

He has, A LOT of ‘ammunition’, honestly feel like he’d come quite a bit, three to four shots. Making a nice cream pie.

Obviously he is an amazing person with aftercare, cleaning you up, helping you get dressed and healing if necessary.

Man’s loves cuddles, no shit he’s a big teddy bear, but due to his protective instincts he’d be holding onto things while he sleep, either it be a random pillow, you or wrapping his arms around himself he always sleeps holding something.

You made it!! Thank you so much, if you have any opinions, suggestions or any advice I’d love to hear it! Enjoy the rest of your morning/afternoon/night!

[icallhimjoey]

Hi! Hope you're doing well (I've never submitted a request before, should I like buy you dinner?)

I was looking at the photo of joe looking kver his shoulder with the sunglasses on and getting major "You and Joe on holiday, lounging by the pool and when he looks over his shoulder he sees you getting drinks at the bar with the bartender flirting with you" vibes

I was wondering if you could write something like that? I love your work btw it's amazing!

cool cool cool cool cool fine fine im totally normal about this NORMAL normal so normal noooormaaaallll fine fine fine Wordcount: 1.7K

---

Just A Man

You'd seen him look. Had felt him look, his eyes burning holes into your back. It made your already slightly sunburnt skin, warm from laying out for hours already, flush even more.

He would've looked anyway, you knew. But it would've just been a quick glance to see if you were getting on okay. If you were at the bar to get drinks, like you said you would. To sneak a look at your bum in your bikini bottoms - Joe was just a man, after all.

But sweet giggles just loud enough for the wind to carry them over to his ears were what made him stare. First from behind his sunglasses, but then those got moved to rest on top of his head so you could see him look.

So he could see him look.

Like the bartender even fucking noticed that one guy on the other end of the pool narrowing his eyes at him, squinting because of the sun, posing absolutely zero threat.

"That your new boyfriend?" Joe was already asking questions before you'd even let go of the glass you'd handed him.

"Hmm? Your holiday fling?"

You rolled your eyes as you sat down on the sunlounger next to him, towel still wet from where you'd laid on it earlier.

"Please." you smiled, but Joe just kept going.

"Your Italian Stallion? Little hunk of meat for on the side?"

You flung the back of your hand against his chest in a smack as you took a sip of your drink, and Joe laughed as he took hold of it and kept it there.

"I was trying to practice my language skills," you'd not been struggling to keep up your duolingo streak just for shits and giggles. Learning a foreign language had become a part of your daily routine and you'd been keeping it up for too long to not take it seriously. Ordering a couple of drinks and making small talk was exactly the right thing to do to see if you could manage it in Italian.

"He gets to listen to you speak Italian?"

You'd been refusing to say a single word out loud to Joe.

"That guy?" Joe looked over his shoulder again and pressed your hand to his chest so it laid flat against his heart, using it as his own to look extra aghast.

You felt how your warm skin stuck together, the stick from sunscreen mixing with the stick from spilled sugary cocktail.

"Si." you joked, smacking your lips after another fruity sip, and you smiled at him.

Joe moved the hand you'd lost to him up to his lips to press a kiss against your fingers, tasting summer, before he let it go.

"Si? That's all I get?" Joe asked over his glass as he went for a sip of his own.

You carefully placed your drink on the tiles in between your sunloungers, out of the direct sun, and ignored Joe's pleading eyes.

If you looked, you'd cave, so you didn't.

Something about his eyes.

And he was well aware, make no mistake.

If he knew what was good for him, he'd slide those sunglasses right back down onto his nose again.

"For now." you simply said, standing up and bending to straighten out your towel, folding corners back where the wind had blown them over. It gave Joe the perfect view of your ass, skin tanned and dewy from when he'd rubbed sunscreen over every inch of you earlier. A little sliver of tanline was visible from where your bikini bottoms had shifted a little, and, listen. Joe just couldn't help it, okay?

Joe was just a man, after all.

He was spilling his drink down his chest before he could even really understand what he was doing.

With his drink still at his mouth in a slow sip, one hand had reached across, fingers splayed out wide, grabbing you around the side of a hip. His finger tips dug into soft warm flesh and pulled you right back; half onto his lap, half into the spot in between his legs.

You didn't audibly react.

Just grinned.

That was how Joe knew that you'd likely bent over to faff with your towel exactly for this outcome.

You, as it turned out, were just a girl, you see. One who didn't mind feeling extra wanted.

"Well then you can just sit here, for now."

A possessive arm curled around your stomach far enough for his palm to squeeze your opposite side, and you got pulled into him tightly.

Joe squeezed extra tight when you bent to pick up your drink from the floor and then leant back and got comfy, all pressed up against his chest.

From his movement, you felt how he snuck a look back over his shoulder.

"Is he watching?" you whisper-yelled, and tried your best at suppressing a giggle as Joe quickly snapped his head back.

"Who?"

"My new boyfrie–" you squeaked as Joe shut you up with a pinch to your side. Joe could dish out the jokes fine, but something about you calling another man your boyfriend was absolutely unacceptable.

It just made you grin, biting your teeth into your bottom lip as you accepted lips cold from the ice cubes to the very top of your shoulder.

You were going to end up with weird tanlines if you were going to sit like this for too long, but it was too nice to really care about anything else besides Joe's touch. Besides his grip. Besides being close together, bare skin to bare skin, laid out on a sunlounger together.

You didn't mind the effect of Joe's slight neediness. That small little grain of insecurity that made him need to show others that he got to touch you in ways they couldn't.

There was no real threat though.

Not really.

You both understood that a smile at a stranger didn't mean anything.

Joe was an actor who put those big wet round eyes to use on others all the time.

You could laugh at an Italian bartender who flexed his muscles as you mixed the drinks you ordered and acted like the love of his life had just walked up, like he probably did for every other girl that had as much flesh on show as you had.

It was all harmless, which was exactly why it was fun to keep pushing it a little. To keep poking the edges of Joe's jealousy, the borders of his tendency to cling, just enough for him to feel the need to remind you that, hello, he was your boyfriend. It was him you were meant to be looking at.

Which was exactly why, when you finished your drinks, you sat up, still in between his legs and cheekily suggested getting another round, already looking over at the bar to see if the same bartender was there still.

That got you pulled right back into him, one arm hooked around your neck that got your ear close to his mouth whilst his other arm held your arms in place so you couldn't fight his grip.

Like you were going to.

You easily let Joe hold onto you whichever way he wanted.

"You must think you're so funny," Joe's low voice buzzed into your ear, lips pressed to the shell of it. "Hm?"

It was fun to toy with him like this, this weird form of play sent tingles right down your spine.

"I do, actually," you grinned, "Così divertente."

And... Joe was just a man.

Were you playing with fire?

You absolutely were.

The teeth that nipped at your earlobe made you feel the burn, breath hitching, body tensing up.

Jesus, you were in public.

Joe was biting and mouthing at your ear and you were in public.

There were appropriate ways to be affectionate in public, but this was practically foreplay.

The way you'd laid on the same sunlounger whilst keeping two of them occupied with your towels was probably already annoying enough to every other person visiting the hotel pool. They didn't need the public display of affection to be taken to another level right there at the poolside.

"You know what?" Joe whispered, words hiding in your hair. "Go ahead. Go order us another round of drinks. You're going to do it in Italian."

You moved back just enough to see Joe's face.

"And you're going to walk real slow."

The sunglasses that were still perched on top of his head got moved down to hide his eyes.

"Take your time. Really enunciate your words in your best Italian accent."

You dipped your chin to give Joe a scandalised look that was just a hair removed from a smile, just a fraction of a second away from a giggle.

Before you were up on your feet, Joe handed you both the empty glasses, tried to sound as seductive as he possibly could when he said, "Roll your Rs loud enough for me to hear."

With a tap to your bum and a blush deepening your sunkissed skin, you scurried along.

You ordered in English.

Stuttered and mumbled through the order.

Looked over your shoulder to see Joe sat on his sunlounger the wrong way 'round with his legs spread wide, one foot touching tile on either side, elbows digging into his thighs.

Watching you.

Sent you on your way with a little task and was now watching you.

It was one thing feeling Joe's eyes burn into your back when you felt in charge and confident ordering drinks at the bar in Italian. It was a whole other thing to feel embarrassed and shy, all hot and bothered, stumbling through your order in English whilst Joe watched your every move from a distance.

He didn't look away once, and even from where you were stood at the bar, you could see how a small smirk pulled his mouth to the side.

Where his jaw was tensed before, now his tongue was working along in the inside of his cheek.

That was how you knew that he'd likely sent you over to get drinks in the way that he had done exactly for this outcome.

Joe was just a man, after all.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @dailyobsession 

@demonsanddemogorgons, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson

@emotionaldreamer, @erinekc, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby

@gri959, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief

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@notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf

@royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself, message me

[xxknockoutxx]

Izuku

(this is just something to put out for fun but I take heavy inspiration from Glitched they're freaking amazing! I hope they are doing well ❤️‍🩹🥦)

It was another day of sitting at home without a care in the world. Waiting for your husband to come home, this was the one day where you weren't working or out doing chores. The giant house that you and your pro hero husband inhabited was so intimidatingly big, that seeing the house so quiet and empty kinda scared you but in a good way. Like a really secured way.

It wasn't all that lonely I suppose with your husband texting you every once and in a while with memes or compliments or how much he misses you. He's gotten the hang of One for All and is the number 1 hero. All this sounds pretty good for you guys but it's not...

The stronger your hunk of a husband gets, the longer he'll be working and that means less time for you too. This was probably the 3rd day he'd been vacant from the house this week so you were tired of it. I mean who wouldn't be?

I'm just gonna have to make him forget work when he comes back. you thought. Sure it was a lot easier said than done but you are Y/-fuckin-N! Ain't nobody or nothing gonna stop you from getting what you want✨

*Bzzz* Your phone buzzes and you find out it's your husband.

🥦My hero🥦: Hey baby I got some good news! 😁

I'll be home either tonight or next morning! I can't wait to see my precious little Bunny💚

Your heart swelled as you read the text you eagerly texted him back showing your excitement before going back to brainstorming. Shit.... Now you're on a time limit. With little time you began thinking about a dinner; one with a huge table full of different foods and of course dessert but will that be enough for your busy husband to stay home?

Annoyed and stressed, you just focus on that one thing, preparing food. You walked into the kitchen and searched the full fridge for things to cook. thankfully you had the ingredients to try some viral recipe you saw on Pinterest.

After cooking and laying everything out on the table you decided to change into something more anticipating you changed into some tiny pajamas and black lingerie under it. Surely it would do something to him to see those thin, black and green panties.

"Bun! I'm home!" Your heart froze up before running to the front door and hugging and kissing the breath out of Izuku.

"baby! Hiii" "Hey bun... You look so....- He takes in the way that the shirt you were wearing hugs your curves. The way that it just barely shows the outline of your hardening nipples. —Good..."

"I made you a little sumthin-" You help him put his stuff down and drag him towards the kitchen. This food is gonna be so fucking good that he's gonna eat this and then eat me- wait.

As Izuku takes a seat and looks in awe at all the food on the table. After working 22 hour shifts for 3 days straight you get kinda hungry. He waited for you to be seated as you walked to the table with his plate of healthy servings.

"thank you so much, Bunny. I love you."

You smile and join him at the table, in your rightful chair or throne rather; Izuku's lap.

He begins to chow down on all of his food rather quickly, while spouting his compliments about you and the food. "Wow this is so good, Bun" and "You look so pretty today" and "Did you get all dolled up for me?"

At the end of the meal you carefully bring him upstairs and take off his hero gear. Making sure to be slow and to add a sway to your movements. At this point Izuku's eyes were lidded and he still had that same smile of adoration but it seemed almost suspecting.

You pushed him back on the bed and slowly took off the pajamas. (Deku merch obviously) Under it you had your dark green and black lingerie.

"wow.. you were ready for me, weren't you bun?"

He cups your cheek and pulls you onto his lap. You feel his warm, calloused hand touch your face as a familiar sensation of Izuku's bulge rubbing against your sweet spot.

You lean in for a kiss and start playing with the zipper on his hero suit pants. As you do he slips a hand on your waist and deepens the kiss while helping you loosen his pants and takes off his suit.

"lemme help you with that bun..."

✩.･*:｡≻─────────── ⋆♡⋆ ───────────.•*:｡✩

"F-fuck! Wait! Izu...." Of course after working for so long and so hard your husband is gonna be a little pent up. Not being able to come home to see his pretty, loyal wife. The only way to solve that? A fucking mating press. Nothing can compare to the satisfaction of a good fucking. Especially passionate, rough and deep sex.

I mean if you aren't screaming his name at the end is it even considered a good fucking? Clearly he isn't putting in enough effort if you give him a reaction that's anything less than a moan of his name, unintelligible mumbles, or praises. So he'll go for a couple hours. Maybe he'll be satisfied after a few positions, some breeding, and marking. Just to make sure you know you're his.

And right after he would take a shower with you cuddle with you and make sure you were at 100 percent and then only then would he go to sleep with you in his arms. An unbreakable grasp.

Then he'll do the same thing next week.

⏤͟͟͞͞☆𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱.

[reveluving]

SHY WIFE AND PRICE....ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME!!!!!Imagine this Adonis of a man spoiling her from the first date and even her being shy, the 141(plus Kate) KNOW who's the boss( he ALWAYS have a photo and a story about Mrs.Price and it's just the cutest thing how his eyes light up that they also love her)

CUUUUUUTE AAAAAA!! GNAWING ON MY BARS RN!! And thank you for specifying the Adonis of a man bit! Can't forget about that!! ☝🏼😌💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

In any case of our beloved shy!wife fics, especially with his line of work, just expect your husband to have a polaroid or five of you ready.

And John is no different.

You must be a special one if you managed to catch the eyes of the captain, and to clarify, you are!

John knew there was no going back to his mundane yet chaotic lifestyle the second he asked you out. It took everything in him not to chuckle at your look of disbelief, your lips parting just a tad bit. He didn’t want you to think he was making fun of you, you were genuinely adorable with your expressiveness. And though had told him you were open to anything, even specifying that you wouldn’t mind anything small and simple, he didn’t let you.

He took you out to dinner on your first date, nothing too fancy, though that couldn’t be said the same on the later dates, gifted you a small but beautiful bouquet and the rest was history. 

And amazingly, he gets even better at spoiling you after he puts a ring on your finger. As if he wasn't already good since your first date!

Kisses or cakes, hugs or huge bouquets, he'll always find a way to spoil you. Because you—your smiles, giggles and laughs, your time and your love for him means so much.

More than you can imagine.

A sweetheart, a gentleman. You couldn’t ask for a better man to fall for you, though, like him, you were mind-blown to even think a man, no, a hunk like him showed interest in you. Made you feel wanted, special—someone he wanted to be with with zero hesitation. 

He wouldn’t be able to forget your shy smile, how you’d mindlessly trail your fingers across the table or your lap out of embarrassment, how your fingers curled around his hand, despite averting your gaze from his cheeky smile many dates later.

And though the wedding was small, to him, it felt like a sweet fairytale.

To finally be able to call you Mrs Price.

Laswell had the privilege to meet you first before everyone else. She enjoys the sisterly moments you’d have, a breath of fresh air from the craziness, to say the least, that she has to witness in her lifetime. Always appreciates you checking in on her via messages or if she’s lucky, a quick call. And it becomes a tradition of hers to jokingly remind John to take care of you and not to drive you crazy.

And then, there were the boys.

Johnny was the one who asked about you, catching the man looking at one of the polaroids of you with nothing but love in his eyes. Longing to get it over with and come home to you. Johnny didn’t think he’d be willing to talk about you at all, let alone more than a few sentences, i.e. privacy reasons or he just prefers to be on his own. Take in the quiet moment before any hell breaks loose later on.

Understandable, so imagine not only his surprise but also the rest of the 141 when he talks about you. First, with pure endearment in his tone, then the story gets romantic, cheesier even, but all three of them listened to his stories like no other (read: a father telling his kids how he met their mother), even if they acted like they were just casually fixing their weapons or thinking to themselves.

C’mon, he knows them!

Like John, you treat the boys like your very own. If Johnny, Kyle or Simon wanted to be doted over—to be cared for, something they haven’t felt in a while even if some of them wouldn’t want to admit it, then you’d give them millions! Even something as little as a handwritten message or passing them a few words i.e. take care and good luck via John.

Visiting the Price’s house now feels like a family thing. Again, it’s cheesy, it’s corny, and maybe even childish to some, for a bunch of men to be looking forward to these visits like a child being away from their parents at a dorm during college, none of you cared. Not you. Not John. And most importantly, not his boys.

None of them could have imagined your words to stick in their minds in dire times. A little motivation to return safely. Back to the base, for John, and back the Price’s home, for you.

“Johnny, I’m out of a few things in the kitchen. Could you drop by the store and get these for me, please?” “Can do!”

“Simon, have you seen John’s car keys? I can’t find them anywhere.” “I can help look for it w’you.”

“Kyle, I told you I can handle the fireplace.” “S’not that hard. Don’t worry!”

Home.

Bonus: A lil’ story I’m still working on with the COD men + dogs includes John with an American Akita. Similar to Phillip and Kai, John’s gigantic pupper tends to prefer listening to you to him.

His intolerance for certain people or animals drops in an instant the second he sees you, turning into a baby (your baby, might John add) but he also knows when duty calls. Ears tilting back and growling at a stranger who doesn’t know, or worse; ignores that you're taken.

And in John’s words: good boy.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[vyglitchcraft]

Since requests are open, can you write for havik, shao, Scorpion and sub zero with a size kink SFW and NSFW headcanons? ʕʘ‿ʘʔ

YES BITCH I WILL, you have good taste in men hot DAMN also yes putting their canon heights just so you can imagine it (atleast before MK1 assuming they didn't change the height)

Sizing Up (18+)

MK1 Shao, Havik, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang x gen!reader size kink headcanons

Warning: Havik's section has mentions of gore and more extreme fetishes

General Shao (7'2 ft)

SFW

This hunk of muscles love to show off his build, he is VERY proud of it. Like the type of douchebag in the gym that would flex in front of the mirror type of guy. And you love every second of it

He likes to show off, that's just a thing that Shao likes in every timeline. He likes to pick you up and just point out how small and light you are, how you're lucky to have him because someone can just pick you up and run off with you

He's a bit of a jerk but you should expect that when you dated him. He constantly teases you about your height and he'll make sure you will NOT forget that you're short. Jars on the highest shelf, every lid is screwed on a bit TOO tight, you can't seem to find any stools to stand on so that means only one thing, you're forced to ask him for help and he would HAPPILY do it with a shit eating grin on his face

He LOVES it when you do a size comparison between you and him, especially with your hands, he thinks its so precious that he can just hold both of your hands with only one of his

He went FERAL when he saw you in his clothes

NSFW

When i say this man is huge EVERYWHERE i mean it, you wouldn't be exaggerating when you compare it to your arm.

"Are you sure? I could break you" is something he constantly says. He loves to lay his cock right on top of your stomach, just admiring just how deep he could reach. Heck it scares you sometimes too, i mean who wouldn't?

But all those feelings are gone when you feel that delicious stretch as he slowly pushes his cock into you. He loves to compare you to a sex toy just because he could just hold your torso with one hand and just use you. He is VERY degrading in bed but god does he love you too.

"So pathetic, did it reach your brain too? Look at me while i use you" even when the two of you are doing it sitting down, you only reach his chest.

He loves to see the outline of his cock on your stomach, he's amazed that someone as small as you can take something that big.

You're practically getting tossed around from position to position, you're gonna get manhandled like a sack of potatoes

Havik (6'4 ft)

SFW

Also messes with you but more just because it causes chaos. Although he doesn't care about his height unlike Shao, he is absolutely fixated by the fact that you're so small compared to him. He thinks you're adorable and wants to bite your head off.

Chews on your hair. You're probably the perfect height for him to lay his head on top of yours. Your hair gets into his mouth sometimes and he likes chewing on it.

He likes to hold onto you, he wants you to carry him around because he thinks it's funny that someone THAT small can carry a man his height. So yes you're here giving this man a piggy back ride while he chews on your hair. Look don't expect maturity from HIM of all people.

Also likes to carry you everywhere and put everything (including you) on a really high shelf, why? Because chaos.

"I can throw you" "Havik WHY" "what if i throw you across the arena so you can attack people from behind" "WHY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT"

He's big but he acts like he's small, he either is NOT aware of his height or just does it to mess with you, could be both.

NSFW

Cute aggression but kinky. That's all i can say about him.

But anyway he likes to point out certain details that just make you want to cover your face. He appreciates that you're so easily pinned down. Your feet aren't touching the ground if you're getting fucked on a table or some other random surface.

Please be warned, the man has no filter. His dirty talk is explicit and isn't for the faint of heart.

Goes fucking FERAL when he sees your stomach bulging from his cock. How you can barely handle anything yet you do, easily too. He loves it. "I wonder if i pull out fast enough, i could pull your intestines inside out"

"I can feel myself hitting your lungs, do you like it?" he's exaggerating but he loves how you're basically choking from the pleasure. Although if you're genuinely uncomfortable or hurt, he will stop. As chaotic as he is, he doesn't want to see you hurt or at worst die.

Loves it when you're the dominant one though. He's a switch. He likes it when someone weak like you can overpower him (if you can't, he likes to pretend) you can do anything to him, he can regenerate any part of his body.

Bi-Han (6'2 ft)

SFW

Overbearing as fuck. He treats you like you're just this small vulnerable rabbit. He feels the need to always protect you, i mean someone your size surely can't protect themselves right? That's why you have him! If you think he's overprotective, he's even more so when you're small

You're a porcelain doll to him, one wrong move and you'll be hurt. Although he's very gentle, he's also like a predator, almost a yandere. You're spoiled, he's the grandmaster, who's gonna stop him from using the Lin Kuei's money for you. But you ain't gonna do shit without him "protecting" you

Since every ninja is around 6'2 (except Tremor and Reptile i think) so you bet your ass you can't reach shit but don't worry, Bi-Han is there to help you. You won't be lifting a finger when he's around.

Oh but don't think he's all soft, his anger is fucked. He uses his size to intimidate people, standing behind you like a shadow. Or having you on his lap like a pet.

Your size means you're also easily movable. He uses this to his advantage to just carry you around or pick you up if he needs you.

NSFW

Again, predator/prey. He absolutely takes advantage of the fact that you're so weak compared to him. The way he can make you whine with one of his fingers, gives him an ego boost. "I can't wait to stretch you to the limits"

Everything about him screams possessive and the fact that you look so small and weak compared to him makes it even worse. The fact that he can just wrap his hand around your whole neck. The fact that you cry every time he fucks you, he lives for it.

He'll pin you down, bite you, everything that you'll love today but regret tomorrow. His grip is bruising but no worries, he'll make sure to take care of you after it. His hands would be cold enough to soothe the pain

Seeing you grip onto him, how he overpowers you and you're hugging him as if he's the only person that could keep you safe. God he could go another round just from seeing it.

Kuai Liang (6'2 ft)

SFW

Not as obsessive as his brother, he's respectful. He loves you and he'll make sure you know it. He wants you to feel protected but not scared. Although he discourages you from fighting because he's scared that you'll get overpowered.

He's pretty self aware about his height but he won't make it your problem.

He LOVES it when you wear his clothes or any oversized shirt. He just wants to choke you with his chain and hug you until you can't breathe.

He likes to hold your face with both of his hands and just squish your cheeks. His hands pretty much cover your face. Oh and he doesn't mind carrying you everywhere he goes, it's embarrassing but if you want him to do it, he'll handle the teasing, as long as you're happy.

Does that thing where he just puts his hands on your face, grabbing your head like a basketball. He isn't really thinking about anything, he just does it sometimes. Also accidentally gained the reflex of having to crouch just to go face to face with you. Yes its a bit degrading but he'll snap out of it and go back to his normal position.

NSFW

The fact that you're so light and small compared to him makes it so easy for him to just pin you against a wall. He loves the sense of power that he has over you. You're so vulnerable and he could just defeat you.

To his dismay, he's pretty similar to his brother but much more merciful and less degrading. "So small, so weak, i could just break you"

He would tie you up with his chains and just let you warm up his cock, his big arms wrapping around your neck while he studies in his room. His hand would wander down, cupping your stomach or thighs. Feeling your head lean back on his chest while you beg for him to move.

In his mind, you're like a pocket pussy, a cute toy but he would never mention it. He has a filter but his mind does not. He would love to see you beg that he's too big, that it hurts, your hole not closing up after he's done with you, he wants to see it but he would never say it to you, its too embarrassing.

Your small frame when you go all limp after a session looks so adorable that he just wants to hold your hips down and use you until you're all loose and open. "I'll mold you into my shape, i need you to be mine" he pants out, biting your shoulder, he really is similar to his brother even if he denies it.

[tfgalore]

SwapCorp: Michael

Michael never heeded his family’s warnings. Even after the news reports of people vanishing in the lake near to his house, the cocky hunk loved going there for a late night swim.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” He thought, setting out once again. But his entire life was altered the moment he set his mind on that one late night swim.

A SwapCorp Premium team was already on standby, waiting for Michael to arrive so that they could perform their Express service. An on-site switch that guaranteed instant gratification and relief. The buyer, a 80 year old man who suffered from arthritis and chronic fatigue.

The switch was easy enough. The burly guards grabbed Michael once he had stripped down, and with their portable neural scanner, it was easy to upload a copy of Mr Burke’s consciousness into Michael. A second copy was made and inserted into Mr Burke’s frail body. Just like that, the two were swapped.

When Michael woke up, he was staring at his own reflection. No…not a reflection. He wasn’t moving, while his body was making a dumb grin and striking flexing poses. He watched in disbelief as he seemed to speak.

“This body is amazing. Look at this!” The young hunk sprung into a handstand. His toned and rippled muscles flexed with renewed youth and vigour.

“ I haven’t felt this good in years! No back aches, no bone pain. Hell, I can even make myself hard withing seconds just with a few flicks to this mammoth down here!” The new owner of Michael’s body gave his heavy and visible bulge a pat.

The real Michael, now trapped in Mr Burke’s body, was quickly escorted off. Still in a stupor from his old age, he couldn’t resist as he was dragged off.

Micahel’s life saw drastic changes from then on. He came out as gay pretty quickly. No more alcohol and drugs, or rowdy parties. He became much more studious and hardworking, though, plenty of people say that they often saw Michael sneaking off with a hot hunk or two during his university lectures.

In the gym, Michael’s body was put to show a lot more than before. Mr Burke loved flaunting his new self, puffing out his pillowy pecs and his washboard abs for all to see. He certainly caught more than a few glances. Every time, it filled him with a new surge of confidence. His new life was worth every last penny…

[hotyanderedaddies]

Yandere Puppy Boy Wants to be Your Good Boy

[Yandere! Puppy Boy! Boyfriend x GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You and Evan have been dating for about a year now. You met in freshman year of college, and seemed to hit it off really well. It kind of amazed you at first that you'd managed to snag a total hunk like Evan.

Evan was the epitome of jock bro: Always working out at the gym, goofing off with his fellow jock friends, and watching tons of sports on TV. Meanwhile, you were a skinny nerd who was at the college on an academic scholarship since you practically lived in the library.

Still, Evan proved to be a great boyfriend. He was funny, attentive, loving-- a total catch. Plus, he was muscular AF!

Then one day, you saw an ad online that sparked your interest, and you couldn't resist purchasing the advertised dog collar that was leather with little spikes adorning it. Once it arrived in the mail, you approached Evan in your shared apartment.

He was on the couch in just his boxers, playing video games. He eyed you, seeing the smirk on your face. "What's up, Babe?" he grunted.

You blushed a little bit. "I just wanted to try something tonight... if you're cool with it?" you asked. Your sex life with Evan was not lacking whatsoever, but it was still healthy to spice things up every now and then.

You pulled the dog collar out from behind your back, holding it up.

At first, Evan laughed. "You want me to wear a dog collar?" he snorted.

"If you don't like it, we can take it off," you shrug, walking up to fasten it around his thick, muscular neck.

The way the leather collar with the spikes fit around Evan's neck made him look really tough, but he felt ridiculous at first. His face was bright red.

You thought he looked kind of cute. "Aww," you cooed, "who's a good boy?" You playfully ruffled his hair.

Good boy...

Something clicked in Evan's brain as soon as you uttered that phrase, and he felt his entire wiring being redone, as if every single instinct he possessed was being reshaped.

Evan's face broke out into a smile alight with zeal, and he dropped onto all fours in front of your feet. "Me!" he happily gushed. "I'm a good boy!"

Holy crap!

You were shocked at how quickly Evan's mind had changed. You weren't sure he'd be into it at all, but looking down at him now, he seemed to be having the time of his life. His muscular pecs heaved with excitement as he sat on all fours in front of you, eagerly awaiting a command. His boxers were already tented out too, damn!

"You're my good boy!" you chuckled as you leaned down and gave your boyfriend some head pats.

"Woof! Woof!" Evan excitedly barked.

That night, he showed you that he was a pro at doggy style, even howling when he came inside of you. The collar was definitely $14 well spent, in your opinion.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Much to your surprise, Evan loved being a good puppy boy for you. Well... "loved" is probably an understatement.

Evan refused to take the dog collar off, even wearing it out whenever the two of you left the apartment for date nights. At first you thought at it was just him exploring his sexual side some more... but as time went on...

Every time you entered the apartment from work or classes, Evan would excitedly bound over to you on all fours, barking happily and begging for head pats and belly rubs. With his massive bulk, he easily pinned you down, refusing to let you move until he got his pets.

Evan would pin you down on the bed, leaning down to kiss you-- but now his versions of kissing were like puppy licks. He'd lap his tongue all over your face, barking with glee despite your annoyed expression.

You'd be sitting on the couch, trying to watch TV when Evan would crawl over to you (he's been constantly walking around on all fours), wearing nothing but his spiked dog collar. He'd mount your leg and start humping it, whimpering as he rutted his hard cock against you like a dog would against its toy. (You had to apologize to your friend, who was visiting, for the awkward sight.)

You'd be trying to fall asleep after a long shift at work feeling so utterly exhausted when Evan would whimper at the foot of the bed. "Whaaaat?" you'd groan.

"Am I a good boy?" he'd whimper, his voice cracking like an injured puppy's.

"...damn it, yes, Evan. You're a good boy," you'd mutter, getting fed up with this quickly.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Your friends were starting to pick up on your change of mood, seeing that you were more irritable throughout the day, and not wanting to leave work immediately.

Sensing this, they invited you to the bar after work, to which you happily agreed.

You loved Evan, of course, but you were totally over his new puppy persona. And despite how many times you tried to tell him, all he'd do was tune you out, and beg for pets.

You really needed a break.

"Y/N?" your coworker, Joshua asked, noting how you'd practically downed your cocktail in one gulp. "What's up? What's bothering you?"

You didn't want to be one of those people who go to others whenever you had relationship problems, but you felt lost. "It's just Evan..." you muttered.

Joshua, who was actually a genuine friend who just so happened to be a guy, put a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "I'm sure things will get better," he smiled at you.

A large part of you felt guilty since you were the one who'd purchased the damn dog collar in the first place, but you couldn't stand the thought of Puppy Evan and having to listen to his barking or him chewing on his squeaker toys for one more night.

Before you could say anything else, a low growl made you jerk back.

Evan stomped into the bar, still wearing the studded collar, his eyes narrowed at Joshua as he bared his teeth at him.

"Grrr..." Evan bellowed out a deep growl, all of his large muscles tensed up, making him look big and ferocious.

Joshua immediately retracted his hand from your shoulder, backing away quickly.

"Evan? What are you...?" you try to ask as your puppy boyfriend wraps a large arm around your waist, pulling you roughly into him.

"Mine!" he barked at Joshua, tightening his grip on you.

You were stunned.

He stopped growling when he looked at you, his eyebrows knitting together as he whimpered. "You didn't come home," he whined, nuzzling you. "I had to come find you."

He didn't give you a chance to respond, and instead threw you over his broad shoulder. He puffed out his chest and held his head up with pride, as a dog does whenever they find a cool stick at the park, and carried you all the way home.

You were mortified, wondering how you were going to show your face at work after that. All you could do was seethe with anger as your puppy boyfriend took you home.

Once you were inside, Evan got down on all fours and whined at you. "Wasn't I being a good boy?" he asked. "Why didn't you come home? I missed you all day!"

"Evan, stand up--"

Evan whimpered like a puppy, nuzzling his head against your hand as he asked for head pats.

That was the final straw for you (a small one, but it was like death by a thousand paper cuts).

"I'm done," you finally huff, walking down the hall so that you could pack up some clothes and leave.

"D-done?" Evan yelped, quickly crawling behind you. "But why? Haven't I been a good boy?"

I grabbed your suitcase out of the closet, trying not to look at your puppy boyfriend as he begged in the doorway, perched on his legs with his arms out in front of him, his eyes wide and pleading.

Annoyed, you turned to sneer at him. "No!" you spat. "You've been a bad boy!"

"I'm a bad boy...?" Evan yelped.

You kept your back to him as you packed up your suitcase. Just as you were almost done, you heard that eerie growl again.

"Grrr..."

You quickly turned around and paled when you saw Evan on all fours, standing in front of the door. He was baring his teeth at you and growling deeply, his chest muscles puffed up and making him look all the more menacing. The pissed off glare on his face was akin to a feral dog, and he snarled in your direction.

"E-Evan, please g-get out of the way," you trembled, taking a small step towards the bedroom door so that you could leave.

Evan barked loudly, stomping his hand/paw onto the floor forcefully as he steeled his stance. He continued to snarl at you, lunging forward to scare you.

It worked and you stumbled back, falling onto your ass. You tried to back away from him, but Evan quickly crawled over to you.

He pinned both of your arms down onto the floor above your head, unleashing a loud snarl and he pushed his angry face up close to yours.

"Am I a good boy?" he snarled, baring his sharp teeth at you. "Or am I still a bad boy?"

Your heart raced in your chest. Evan is much stronger than you, and you knew you couldn't fight him off. Plus, the way he bared his teeth at you and the animalistic growl that escaped his throat was much more dog than man, making you shudder.

"Y-yes!" you stuttered. "You're a good boy, Evan!"

Instantly, Evan stopped growling and his broke out into a joyous smile. "I'm a good boy?" he asked, his muscles tensing with with excitement. He still kept you pinned down.

Hell no!

But you didn't want him to maul you or bite out your neck with his teeth. So instead, you slowly nodded.

"You're the bestest boy," you cringed.

Evan's smile grew wider. "'The Bestest'?" he repeated. "I guess if that were true... then you'd never, ever leave. Right?" He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

His chest rumbled as a growl began to form, warning you to answer correctly.

You force a smile onto your face, but it's pained.

"O-of course not," you stammer, your heart falling as you sealed your fate. "You're... my, *gulp, good boy."

Evan smiled widely as leant down to lap at your face as he gave you puppy kisses. "I'm a good boy," he playfully growled as he began to rut his hardening cock against you.

[intoanotherworld23]

Worth A Thousand Words

Summary: you want to see what Joel’s point of view looks like, and he takes some pictures for you

Warnings: mdni 18+, explicit sexual content, picture taking, mention of making sex tape, unprotected sex, minor spanking, implied sex tape

A/N: reblogs and comments help your support your writers so please it’s highly encouraged to share fics to others! Pedro pascal tag list is always open so don’t hesitate to join! Thanks! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

"Wish you could see yourself right now." Joel whispered just enough for you to hear. Thick hands running up and down your sides as you bent over the kitchen table. Resting your cheek against the wood cooling your skin.

"Take a picture then." Your reply definitely surprised him a little bit, and turned him on at the same time. A hand coming down swiftly on your behind the smack echoing around the room as the impact stung your skin. It hurt for a second but with Joel deep inside you it brought extreme pleasure.

"Yeah? You wanna see my cock inside you." Cursing under his breath as he spread your cheeks apart to get a better glimpse of his cock disappearing inside you. It was the sexiest thing he's ever watched in his whole life even better than porn.

"Yes so fucking bad." You choke out as he dips his hips to get a deeper angle inside of you. Feeling your knees buckling as the intensity of his thrusts grew.

His cock feels like it's bulging inside of you. If you could move even just the tiniest bit you would've looked down to see it for yourself. He pushes his hips harder moving your body forward your breasts rubbing against the table. Walls clenching around him tightly as a moan escapes your lips.

"Looks so fucking good." He growls as hands grip your flesh squeezing the fat in the palm of his hands like some type of toy. Joel loved the feeling of your skin just right under his fingertips. It was the most intoxicating thing.

Next thing you knew his cock slipped from your cunt leaving you feeling empty and hallow. Whining as you craned your neck to see what he was doing. Watching as he grabbed his phone off the counter his erect bouncing as he stomped back over to you.  Your insides were doing somersaults realizing what he was about to do.

Pushing his cock back inside you cruelly pounding your raw hole without any mercy. One hand gripping your hip while the other held the phone turning on the camera. Positioning it just right to get the best picture. Taking several hoping to capture the perfect photo. One that he can print out and tuck in his wallet so always have with him.

“Pretty little cunt.” He growled in awe as his cock glistened with your juices. Continuing to take pictures knowing his phones storage was gonna be full just from this. He couldn’t care less though cause it would be worth it to him.

“You’re so unbelievably tight baby girl.” He coos a hint of praise behind his voice as he drives his hips deeper in yours.

“Joel please I wanna see.” Whining pathetically as you crane your neck to try and watch his cock disappear inside of you. It amazed you every time how you were able to take him like you did always making you feel stuffed to the brim.

Putting his phone in front of your face so see the vulgar image. His thick cock halfway in your drenched and swollen cunt swallowing every inch of him. Juices leaking out dripping down the insides of your thighs. The picture was kind of blurry but you could still make out exactly what it was. It was the hottest thing to look at while Joel was relentlessly fucking you against the table.

“I know you liked that can feel that cunt squeezing my cock.” He called you out just as your walls gripped him tightly like a python. Joel was gonna keep this photo safe so he could always look at it whenever he missed you and needed you when you aren’t there.

“Now let’s take a video.”

[navybrat817]

I picture Bucky as a good dad. Like you're tired and he takes over without hesitation.

Oh, he's an amazing dad, nonnie. I agree he would take over immediately.

Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky offers to check on Jellybean so you can get some rest. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, early parenthood, reflecting, nickname (daughter is called Jellybean, reader is called Jewel), feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes as a dad (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Sorry it isn't much, but here's a little something with our woodworker. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone​, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was already awake when he heard fussing in the next room, every cell in his body on alert at the sound. He was a light sleeper to begin with and always had an ear open, but having a baby in the house gave him all the more reason to pay attention to every noise around him. You began to sit up with half open eyes and a groan when the fussing turned to cries, your instincts likely calling to you through your exhaustion to soothe your baby. You were a wonderful mother through and through.

But you had only fallen asleep a few minutes ago after feeding and changing her and you needed as much rest as possible.

“No, no, no,” he whispered as he brushed his lips against your temple and helped you lay back down. “It’s my turn.”

“You sure?” You asked, trying to stifle a yawn. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” he assured you, giving you another kiss. “I offered, remember?”

It wasn’t easy for you to relinquish control or ask for help out of fear that you weren’t a good enough mom, but he was quick to squash that insecurity. He didn’t want you to feel any sort of guilt or shame over needing rest. You also didn’t have to go it alone since you had him by your side.

You were equal partners and parents.

“Thanks, Hunk,” you smiled tiredly.

He smiled back and tucked the blanket around you. “You don’t need to thank me for being a dad,” he teased before you closed your eyes. “Just get some rest for the both of us, Jewel.”

Once he was sure you wouldn’t try to get up, he went to check on your daughter. His daughter. One of the two lights of his life.

Living proof that his heart had room for two.

Carefully opening the nursery door, his heart almost stopped as the cries increased. The sound evoked many things within him, like the need to protect her and the worry that he wouldn’t be able to comfort her the way you could. Pushing his anxiety aside, he approached the crib with a soft smile when she whimpered and immediately reached in to pick her up. The vibranium arm cradled her lower half as he rested her against his chest.

The previous metal forced upon was meant to inflict pain, but the vibranium provided hope.

“Hey, Jellybean,” he whispered, brushing his nose against the top of her head and taking care not to scratch her skin with his beard as her whimpers stopped almost immediately. The sweet scent was so distinctly her, a biological perfume that he could pick up even if she was surrounded by other babies. “Can’t sleep, huh?”

Bucky had heard from others that babies had distinct cries, but he didn’t realize how true that was until he began to decipher Jellybean’s sounds. Since she couldn’t tell either of you with words what or how she was feeling, she did so with sounds and visual cues. There was no yawning, so she wasn’t sleepy, and no lip smacking, so he ruled out hunger. She didn’t squirm in his hold, so discomfort or a dirty diaper were out. Coupled with the fact that she grew quiet the second he picked her up told him all he needed to know.

His baby just wanted some attention.

“I’m sorry if you wanted Mama, but she needs her rest,” he whispered, taking a seat in the rocking chair he built. He covered you with a soft blanket next, a gift from Steve and Tippy. Ironically enough, you got them a similar blanket for their little Peanut. “So do you.”

He began to hum a lullaby as he glanced around the room. Jellybean’s laughter would fill it one day and provide another memory he’d make sure not to forget. Even in the dark, he could feel the care crafted within every inch of the space. Beams and walls helped make the house, but it was a home because of the love you poured into it.

It didn’t always feel real though.

Some days, he feared he’d open his eyes only to find himself back in the chair, shaking from the pain and electroshock. Or that he’d be back on ice, reaching out a hand for the two of you before he froze. He had to remind himself that the worst part of his life was over, that the nightmare was finished and you were his dream come true.

The person who helped him pick up the pieces of himself, one at a time.

“You know, I spent a long time believing that I wasn’t a good man. That I’d never be worthy of you or your mom. That I didn’t deserve this,” he told her, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs as he exhaled. “But I am a good man and I do deserve my family.”

And all he wanted was to be a good husband and father.

His daughter’s tiny hand moved to his chest and he had to blink back tears at the small source of comfort. She was vulnerable, inspiring, a precious gift, and a token of the love you had for him. Looking at her for the first time and seeing purity and wonder in her gaze was like rekindling his best sense of self.

He may not always be able to catch her when she falls, but he would pick her up, dust her off, and let her try again.

“Maybe I needed to hold you tonight as much as you needed to be held,” he smiled softly. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she sensed it. “You’ll hear my story one day. No matter what you think of me after I tell you, I’ll always be your father and protector,” he promised as she started to doze off, completely at ease in his arms. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to relax, too. “And I’ll always love you and your mom, Jellybean.”

And in the room next door, you gazed at the baby monitor with watery eyes. “We’ll always love you, too, Bucky.”

I'm so soft! Love and thanks for reading! 💙

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