#just gimme them babies collection

[sttoru]

dad!Toji losing megumi on his sight in a grocery store.

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.

“where the hell did that brat go. . .” toji sighs in frustration as he makes his third trip around the numerous aisles, peeking through each gap between to see where his son could’ve possibly hid.

you had been gone for one minute to grab something you had forgotten in the car, leaving your husband and son alone at the grocery store. you thought toji would be more than capable of keeping an eye on megumi during the time you left.

he did succeed for a couple seconds, but then somehow lost sight of the little boy. it happened out of the blue—even for someone as quick as toji, his child seemed to have disappeared into thin air, without him noticing at all.

“tsk, just wait ‘til i catch ya..” toji scoffs and makes quick strides. the other customers seemed to scurry off to the sides as the dark-haired man passes them—the reason for this being his bulky and tall body and that cold yet pissed off expression on his face whilst walking forwards.

of course, toji was still secretly worried for megumi. he didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario at all. he needs to stay calm and collected in such situations. panicking will do him no good.

toji passes by a pit of plushies, paying it no mind until he hears a soft, muffled giggle from that same area. he stops in his tracks and turns his head to the right. that voice was one he could recognise from miles away.

“oh, y’re so done.” the dark-haired man mutters under his breath and digs through the many plushies, hands looking for the source of that giggle. there were a couple strands of dark blue hair sticking out from between the big stuffed animals and toji wasted no time, “c’mere, brat.”

he uses a bit of his strength and fishes out a child from under the pile of softness—his child.

“papa!” megumi squeals and was holding onto a plushie: a cute black dog one. it seems like he had waddled off and climbed onto the box to grab that specific plushie, but couldn’t get out afterwards, “papa, waf! waf!”

toji sighs and holds megumi up by the back of his shirt, walking back to your shopping cart. he gains some stares due to the obscure way he was carrying his son around, though megumi himself couldn’t care any less as he cuddles up to the plushie in his tiny arms.

toji puts the little boy in the baby seat and grabs onto the stuffed animal, tugging at it; “gimme that. ya can’t have it ‘cause ya ran off without tellin’ me.”

megumi whines and pulls the toy back in his arms, giving toji a pleading look. his lips formed a desperate pout and his eyes were starting to glisten with tears that appeared on his waterlines.

“yeah, stare at me all you want with those big bug eyes—y’re not gonna get that.” your husband shakes his head and grabs the plushie again, taking it away from his son to put it back.

megumi reacts to this by curling his chubby hand around toji’s index finger—still with that cute pout on his lips whilst trying to prevent his dad from stepping away. it’s specifically those shiny blue orbs that seem to mellow toji’s heart to the point he almost gives in.

“…”

you come back after five minutes and spot your family back in the candy aisle. the duo didn’t appear to have seen you yet since they were busy picking out some sweets for later.

“hi, my angels.” you creep up behind toji and tap his back. he instantly steps aside and your (surprisingly) super excited son comes into view.

megumi was smiling widely and that’s when your eyes land on something in his arms.

“oh, you got ‘gumi a dog plushie!” you gasp and seem to get excited for your child—megumi giggling right alongside you, “how nice!”

toji rolls his eyes, though wasn’t about to admit that he eventually did give in to megumi’s adorable tactics. he gently flicks the little boy’s forehead and looks back at you;

“didn’t get it for him out of my own free will.” your husband grumbles and then continues to squish megumi’s cheeks together using one hand, “this little brat threatened me.”

“i’m sure he did.” you chuckle and nudge toji’s side with your elbow. you knew just how much of a softie really is for his son.

“i’m not lyin’,” toji replies with a sigh and pushes the cart ahead, you following next to him with a smile, “he threatened me with those big eyes of his. i’m tellin’ ya, that stuff is dangerous.” —for my heart, he adds in his head.

you couldn’t contain your laughter as you hear your lover’s words. your gaze then lands on megumi, who was contentedly staring up at both his parents, cuddled up to the big stuffed animal.

“good job.” you gave megumi a thumbs up and ruffle his hair as a reward. the kid sticks his tongue out and almost looks proud of the fact that he got his way in the end.

toji really was just a big softie for his son. and for his wife as well, of course.

[milkzoro]

humping turned to fucking. who woulda guessed.

t. Law

- clit overstim* creampie* consensual*

\\ ୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ

he was in the perfect position; beneath you on the living room couch, and in between your thighs. you arched your back and grinded up and down, losing yourself in the feeling of almost catching your release against his clothed cock.

soft whimpers left your lips, taking your time with all of your rhythms and motions as you rode him.

he pulled you against him eagerly, probably leaving more than a few fingerprint-sized bruises across your skin. law cared nonetheless, just as long as he could get you close.

his hips tried to fuck into you, but the fabrics containing him prevented it. you could feel him grow restless and become annoyed at the fact that you were moving a little too slow for his liking.

“please— can i fuck you?” he blurted out. the long fingers you knew all too well tugged on your panties as their owner waited for you to answer. “i’m gunna cum if you don’t stop.”

his pleas were cute.

“wanna fuck you so bad, y/n.”

“can i?” …

his eyes turned dark as soon as you allowed him to have more. you slipped off your panties and so desperately needed him to stretch you out. the cold slick of his precum met with your warmth sending shivers across your skin.

he was buried inside you. gifting you lots of deep strokes with his forehead pressed against yours, panting pretty little things like,

… ‘you’re mine.’ … ‘fuck.’ … ‘all mine.’ …

repeatedly.

in the midst of it all, you took his hand in a soft grip and guided them around the tight seal of his cock stretching you out. your fingers remained on top of his, dragging them around slightly to collect the mix of your juices.

curiosity struck his face as he slowed down his rhythms a little, but your pretty expressions made him realize what he was lacking.

you led his fingers to where you needed them the most and your breath shuddered, “i wanna feel it here, law.” your fingers lifted off his, leaving them delicately around your aching little bud.

he mimicked your actions, still hitting you deep but now with the added stimulation to you clit. you couldn’t help but expose yourself more for him.

“law! r-right there…”

you lifted your hips up slightly off the couch for a better angle and immediately you were getting washed with your orgasm. “i’m gonna cum!!! c-CUMMING!!♡”

“shit. me too baby. gimme one more, okay?” he quickly cut you off, groaning and whining feeling the insides of your cunt. his fingers wouldn’t leave your clit as he continued to fuck you into the cushions.

“lawwww-” you cried, feeling too blissed out from all the excess attention he was giving your pussy. a second wave of pleasure was quickly building inside of you. the once cold room was now hot, sticky, and littered with your filthy sounds.

“god, you’ve got such a perfect pussy baby. i’m gonna fill you, okay? cum for me y/n, again.” he demanded.

you couldn’t keep your eyes open and your legs trembled under him, but only a small nod and incoherent nonsense was all that you could give to let him know you would do as he said.

“that’s it, fuckkkkk fuck…..”

as you let go, you kept him has close as you could. immersing yourself in his strong grip and musky sent. simultaneously, you felt his cock spurt inside of you, flooding you with warm sperm.

a kiss to your cheek and forehead came quickly after. followed by an, “i love you.” and many cuddles back on the couch.

——

*lowkey unfinished but hey i made it to wano 🙏🏻

[kenshiluvr]

pussy-drunk

kenshi takahashi, tomas vrbada, johnny cage (separate)/reader

summary: they can’t get enough of your cunt

tags: vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying/a little dacryphilia, pre-mk1 :3, aftercare

minors dni please

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

kenshi

kenshi hums softly beside you, feeling your fingers curl into his bicep. his inked fingers thrust in and out of your sopping cunt, your pants filling the darkness of your shared bedroom. he’s in the mood, but not for his own pleasure… for yours. the way your cunt squeezes his thick fingers, the way your thighs shake, he’s addicted to it. kenshi presses soft kisses to your cheek, whispering gentle words of encouragement. “c’mon, baby doll. gimme one more.” he whispers, voice raspy and and deep with tiredness. you whine, back arching off your side of the bed. “ken-“ you whimper, gasping as he tips you over the edge again, his fingers continuing to thrust into your cunt as you squirt around them; keeping up his fast pace just to hear you whine and keen. “ken, please..!” you beg, tears collecting on your lower lashes, body writhing with overstimulation. “shhh…” he whispers, kissing those pretty tears away. “god, you’re gorgeous.” he whispers, groaning softly as more of your juices thickly coat his fingers. “ken..!” you whine, feeling his lips kiss the tears away. “one more.” kenshi murmurs, propping himself up on his elbow, watching you gasp, watching your eyebrows knit together.

a loud, long whine escapes your lips, fingers digging into his tattooed arm, gasping and whining. you’re a mess beneath him, all because of his fingers… and he loves it. kenshi sighs, a smile on his face. “you’re so pretty, baby girl.” he mutters, pressing a long kiss to your cheek. “give me one more. just one more.” he whispers against your skin, keeping his face against your cheek as you sob with overstimulated pleasure. there’s no doubt your neighbours could hear your whines, he doesn’t care though. curling his fingers up, kenshi prods your g-spot, watching you come undone again. you cry out, sobbing and squirming beneath him. “shhh-shhh… that’s it, baby. isn’t that better?” kenshi croons, kissing your tears away. “that’s my good girl.” with that, he pulls his fingers from your abused cunt, licking his digits clean. “that’s my amazing girlfriend.” he whispers, kissing you gently. “shh… how about a bath before bed. get you all relaxed and cleaned up, hm?” kenshi smiles, getting up. lifting you into strong arms, he carries your shivering, sensitive body to the bathroom, ready to give you all the aftercare you deserve.

—

tomas

your boyfriend pants, face buried to your wet folds. he whines and whimpers with pleasure, moaning against your cunt as he laps at you like a hungry dog. tomas groans, nose nudging your clit occasionally, tongue thrusting in and out of your pussy, slurping and sucking. “please… please, moje láska. i need it.” he whines against your swollen pussy lips, his harsh tongue dragging up to your clit. his lips wrap around the bud, sucking desperately. “tommy-“ you whine and shiver, fingers curling into silver hair as he moans, the vibrations of it running straight through you as you gasp loudly. “more. more, prosím.” tomas pants against your fevered skin.

tongue diving back into your juicy cunt, your head falls back against the headboard, moaning loudly as he continues to eat you out. tomas mewls with neediness, panting against your pussy like a man in heat. his cock is hard and throbbing just from eating you out, precum leaking through his boxers. he’s twitching and sensitive, tip flushed red; pleasured just from licking your cunt. tomas moans, fingers digging into your soft hips, pulling you closer to his face. as you cum, tomas gasps and moans, lapping it all up. “yes- yes….” he sighs with pleasure, licking up all the juices that smear his lips and chin. he can’t get enough of your pretty pussy, and it seems he’s going to be between your plush thighs for a long time.

—

johnny

your boyfriend grunts, hips slamming into yours again, groaning into the crook of your neck. “that’s it, that’s it…” he pants, sultry voice thick like honey. “come on, baby… come on, baby- cum for me.” johnny growls out, his cock hammering into your cunt. your fingers curl into broad shoulders, scratching red lines down perfect skin. “mhm… that’s why i have a stunt-double.” johnny grins against your skin, listening to your borderline pornographic moans as he fucks you hard and fast on the plush sheets of his bed. sitting up, he grips your thighs, hips still fucking into yours. “mhm… so pretty.” he grins, watching his cock disappear into your sopping cunt.

he’d been fucking you for so long, made you cum so many times, that his cock had creamy rings wrapped around it, like a pretty coat of makeup. johnny groans. he was getting sensitive too, by now… but he couldn’t pull out now. “come on… one more.” he coaxes, calloused fingers moving between your soft thighs to rub your clit. “johnny!” you gasp, cumming around his thick cock. “mhm… that’s it, sugar.” johnny chuckles, moaning at the feeling of your sensitive walls spasming around his shaft. “that’s it. fuck, you’re beautiful.” johnny pants, hips hammering into yours. snapping a few pictures of you like this, all fucked out on his bed, he smiles. recording little snippets and taking pictures of how he fucks you, he knows full well he’d entertain himself with these little things when he’s away from you; probably when he’s in his dressing room, thinking of you.

“come on, sugar. surely you got more for me.” johnny chuckles, tossing his phone onto the pillow beside your head. “johnny..!” you moan out. “that’s the ticket.” your boyfriend croons, leaning down to suckle a mark onto your pretty throat. johnny leans up, eyes catching sight of a mirror nearby, winking at himself. your fingers grasp his jaw, bringing his eyes back down to you. “eyes on me, cage.” you murmur, nipping his lips as you moan. “of course, sugar.” johnny mutters, grinning against your lips as he speeds his hips up; fucking you hard and fast, just how you love it. he’d do anything for you.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  GIMME HALF

REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting

WORD COUNT : 8.4k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.

There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction. 

Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.

Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door. 

Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men. 

There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son. 

He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos. 

There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him 

As for the cons, we’ll get to that…

When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June. 

When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.

The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one. 

Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle. 

After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.

Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.

Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.

The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.

The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.

It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily. 

Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass. 

Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room. 

Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.

She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.

“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at. 

She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.

“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.

“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh. 

She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.  

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.

“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself. 

Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.

“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.

Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”

“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.

“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.

His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.

That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on. 

He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans. 

The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.

Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely. 

When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.

She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people. 

When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.

It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.

Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.

They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.

Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving. 

He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.

Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean. 

So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow. 

For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway. 

She couldn’t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.

She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.

All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.

She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?

For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?

The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation. 

With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him. 

It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective. 

It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.

The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. 

For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.

She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?

She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.

The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently. 

When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.

“What?” He asked bluntly. 

She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet. 

“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter. 

She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.

She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.

She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera. 

What a funny thing. 

“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights. 

“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything. 

She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction. 

“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters. 

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.

He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted. 

“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.

Now, it was awkward. 

Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants. 

“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing. 

“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire. 

“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.

“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer. 

He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand. 

“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds. 

“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over. 

“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.

“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it. 

“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.

She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.

She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie. 

“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added. 

Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.

“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth. 

“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him. 

“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.

“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie. 

It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.

“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog. 

Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.

“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”

“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.

“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.

“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.

“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth. 

“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair. 

She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.

With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap. 

“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.

“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.

“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.

“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.

“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..

“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table. 

“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.

She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor. 

He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time. 

He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss. 

He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.

He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.

“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts. 

“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.

“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.” 

She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching. 

“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name. 

“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.

“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.

“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly. 

She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.

“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.

“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.

Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned. 

He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more. 

“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head. 

He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.

Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.

“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole. 

“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.

“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.

“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely. 

“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.

He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly.  “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck. 

She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes. 

“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.

“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy. 

She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.

She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths. 

Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw. 

“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.” 

She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch. 

He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly. 

He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath. 

“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.

She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.

“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.

“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.

“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.

“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit. 

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.

“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her. 

“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.

“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt. 

“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily. 

“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his. 

“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.

“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit. 

She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.

“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him. 

“Dean…”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”

As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would. 

He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.

“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure. 

“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.

“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.

➥ sempiternal

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[wileys-russo]

Writing prompt! - if you still want them :)

Alanna Kennedy, reader is Lanni K’s gf and is collecting the panini stickers “I can’t believe I didn’t make the book babe” Jealous Lani girl as you stick all the other players in 🥹

Just purely bc I’m still not over the fact my girl hasn’t got a sticker 💔

panini II a.kennedy

“babe! you here?” you heard the blonde call out as she let herself into your apartment with the key you'd gifted her not too long ago, perking up from your spot on the lounge and pausing the tv calling out a greeting as her footsteps made their way toward you.

“oi! you promised we’d watch that together you snake.” alanna protested with a frown seeing you were catching up on last nights big brother episode.

“did you get them?” you ignored her comment and propped yourself up on your knees eagerly leaning against the back of of the lounge. “oh hi lani how was your day? how are you? how was training? i missed you so much. i love you so much.” your girlfriend mocked as you rolled your eyes.

“alanna did you get them or not!” you huffed as she let out a sigh, reaching into the training bag which was still slung over her shoulder. “don't you alanna me. but of course i did, you only texted me seven reminders today about them.” the blonde chuckled pulling her arm out of her bag holding the packs in hand as your eyes lit up.

“gimme!” you made grabby hands at her as she took a few steps closer. “mmm but you gotta pay for em first babe.” the defender smirked holding them purposefully out of reach and looming over you. “lani!” you groaned as she stretched her arm up higher.

“sorry darlin i don’t work for free.” alanna grinned, tapping her lips expectantly as you looked up at the sticker packs with a frustrated frown.

with another roll of your eyes you leaned up and pecked her lips, whining as she didn’t lower her hand. “what! that’s it? that’s all my hard work is worth to you? a teeny tiny peck?” alanna protested with a shake of her head.

"what hard work? you got these for free off hempo all you had to do was open your bag and she dropped them in!" you laughed shoving at her shoulder.

“well after that comment the price just went up, and i know you can do much better then that babe.” alanna tapped her lips again puckering them as you sighed at her dramatics.

standing up on the lounge so you were closer to her height her hand now darted behind her back still holding the stickers out of reach. one hand on the back of her neck the blonde fell forward a little as you pulled her mouth to meet your own.

you wasted no time taking advantage of her surprise and sliding your tongue into her mouth, a small thud heard as the defender dropped everything in her hands to grab your hips almost yanking you off the lounge entirely as your hands moved to her shoulders to steady yourself.

right as alanna readied herself to whisk you off toward the bedroom you pulled away suddenly with a gentle smack, leaving a tiny trail of spit hanging from the blondes lips which you wiped away with the pad of your thumb.

"consider the debt settled baby." you patted her flushed cheeks lightly with a smug smile, jumping over the back of the lounge and nimbly landing on your feet.

collecting the packets from the floor you hurried back to the lounge and took a seat, swiping your book from where it sat beneath the coffee table and wiggling around to get comfortable as your girlfriend finally pulled her head from the clouds.

"you cannot seriously have just kissed me like that and moved on like it was nothing." the taller girl spoke in bewilderment as you merely shrugged, already tearing off the wrappers as you rifled through the small mountain of panini stickers sat in your lap.

"babe thats just made me so horny." alanna retorted bluntly, dropping herself down onto the lounge beside you as you felt her eyes stare holes into the side of your head. "go take a cold shower then kennedy you're not getting anything anytime soon." you warned, letting out an excited gasp as finally you found a sticker which wasn't a double up.

"you and those fucking little stickers i'll kill caitlin for getting you into them." your girlfriend grumbled with an unhappy scowl, arms crossed as she sank deeper into the cushions. "oh that reminds me! she was after a few of my double ups, when do you play arsenal again?" you pushed your hips up to grab your phone from the back pocket of your sweats.

"lani? did you hear me?" you looked up from your phone with a raised eyebrow, corners of your mouth curling into a smile at the frustrated pout which stared right back at you. "are you seriously giving me the silent treatment because i won't have sex with you right now?" you smiled in amusement as the blonde scoffed.

"no! i'm pissed off that ever since you started collecting those stupid stickers i, your super sexy very loving girlfriend, is treated no differently than merely a piece of furniture." alanna huffed, scowl deepening as your smile widened.

"are you jealous because you didn't get a sticker baby?" you pouted back at her, moving the stickers gently off your lap and moving to climb into hers as her arms remained crossed over her chest.

"no! i don't want to be a shitty panini sticker they're lame as anyway." alanna rolled her eyes but you saw right through it. "you know i have hundreds of double ups lani i could always make you a sticker of your own." you offered, hands massaging at the tension in her shoulders.

"would you?" your girlfriend asked quietly, uncrossing her arms as her hands came to rest on your thighs, features softening. "of course, if you ask me nicely." you grinned, leaning in a little.

"i don't work for free." you mocked her earlier words, tapping your lips as she rolled her eyes but there was a ghost of a smile on her own. "you drive a hard bargain kid." the australian sighed, pulling you even closer with a shake of her head.

"i think you'll find i'm an excellent saleswoman." you closed the gap between you, locking your lips against hers in a kiss that once again quickly became heated and once more you pulled away far too soon for alanna's liking, leaning back with a smirk as she chased your lips.

"i wasn't joking baby, no sex yet. i have stickers to tend to!" you moved off her lap and back to your previous spot, starting to separate your double ups away from the ones you needed to put into your book.

you ignored the many deep and dramatic sighs from the blonde beside you who eventually gave up with a groan and pressed play on the episode you'd been watching before, laying down so her head was resting against your leg as you happily continued with your stickers.

"i can't believe i didn't make the book babe." you glanced down at the footballer whose eyebrows furrowed unhappily, moving them apart with your fingers teasingly and bending down to tenderly kiss her forehead.

"i know love, but you'd make my book any day."

[finelinevogue]

saying yes

summary - you and harry enjoy each others company after the wembley tour

word count: 1.5k

pairing: long-term-boyfriend!harry x reader

Wembley was empty now.

There was only the crew cleaning up the masses of boas and rubbish that was all over the floor.

You were on stage, trying to salvage the flowers that fans had thrown on stage for Harry during Grapejuice. You hoped to collect them and press them into a frame so Harry could hang it up in your house. Possibly in his recording studio.

You were kneeling on the floor, collecting the flowers into your Love On Tour tote bag.

“Babe!” Harry called from the side, entering the stadium from the tunnel.

“Hi, baby.” You smiled and waved at him, before returning to your collecting.

“Hi, baby.” You smiled and waved at him, before returning to your collecting.

“What are y’doing? Been looking for you for ages.”

He had changed into shorts, vans and a hoodie now. He looked very cosy and loveable. You loved him in his comfortable clothes, especially because it makes hugging him cosier.

Harry stopped to take out his phone and take a photo of you on the stage, without you knowing. He looked at the photo afterwards, zoomed into you and smiled at how pretty you looked.

He pocketed his phone as he made the rest of the way to you.

“Are you okay?” You asked, worried that he needed you for something.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Was just missing you.” He admitted.

You stopped adding flowers to your bag and watched him walk all the way over to where the archway was in the stage to get through to Johnny’s Place.

You knelt over to him and dangled your face and hands over the edge. Harry reached his hands up and held onto your hands, very careful not to pull you in case you fell.

He smiled when his hands met yours, having missed your touch for the past half an hour.

“Missed you too. Y’look good.” You told him.

“I’m in m’gym clothes, babe!” Harry laughed.

“I know.” You laughed back, squeezing onto his hands.

“Put m’best clothes on for you.”

He let go of your hands then, terrified he might accidentally pull you if he wasn’t concentrating.

“Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yes babe. I’m sure.” Harry smiled at how thorough your concern was. “Gimme a minute.”

Harry shuffled along the floor and ran up some secret stairs to get to you.

You went back to picking through the flowers, to find the best ones for him. There were so many different types of flowers with lots of different colours.

You felt him come up behind you before you heard him. His presence was like a warm, comforting, blanket over you.

“What’re you doing, love?” Harry asked over your shoulder, crouching down.

You turned your head to see him, his face only inches away from yours. You smiled at him, giving him a quick peck before replying.

“Collecting these flowers.”

“Why?” Harry went in for another kiss, because he can’t keep his distance from you. Then he kissed you again because he can’t keep his lips away from yours after just one taste.

“Because I want to make you a gift and you’ll ruin it if you keep asking questions.” You turned your head away from him and secured all the flowers in the bag.

Harry moved behind you as you did so.

“Y/N?” He said softly.

“Yeah?” You turned around, to find Harry with a flower in his hands.

A pretty pink flower that matched your dress. He had snapped the flower from the stalk. He reached the flower up to being your ear, tucking it there so it would stay.

You blushed as he did so, smiling so widely as he loved on you in his own way.

“I love you.” He said.

“Do you?” You pretended like you didn’t already know.

“Yeah. Very much so. Sing all m’songs about you, don’t I?”

“What? Even Love of My Life?” You questioned, turning to sit cross legged on the floor so you could face him. Harry still crouched, probably comfortable from all the pilates. “Where you’re singing about how I was the love of your life?”

“Shut up. You know why I wrote that song.” Harry replied quietly.

You did know.

It was when you and Harry had gone on a break because the distance between you was too much. He wrote the song, sent it to you to ask whether it was okay if he put it on his new album he was creating, only for you to come knocking on his door the next day, teary eyed, demanding an explanation.

You’d talked for hours and hours that night until you decided you had something worth fighting for.

“I do. Sorry, H baby.” You cupped his cheek with your hand and rubbed over his soft skin.

“It’s okay. Only because we’re okay.” He smiled at you.

You lay down then, still a few flowers surrounding you underneath.

Harry then came and lay down beside you, close enough to interlock his hand closest to you with yours. You turned to smile at him, only to realise he was busy admiring the moon high up above Wembley.

The stars were out and shining for him. The moon beaming down on the both of you.

“She’s so pretty.” Harry said, talking about the moon.

“Prettier than me?” You teased.

“Nobody’s prettier than you, love.”

You were silent for a few moments, both of you just admiring the still and silence. It’s hard to believe this place was filled with over ninety thousand people a couple hours ago.

You’d come to realise that Lloyd snapped a photo of the two of you like this and it quickly became your favourite photo with each other. Holding hands, laying amongst the flowers, gazing at the beautiful moon.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.” He squeezed your hand.

“Sometimes, when we’re apart, like you’re in LA and I’m in London, I look up at the moon and remember that it’s looking back down at you too. Like she’s watching over both of us simultaneously. It’s comforting, knowing we’re small enough in this expensive universe to be closer than we realise. Don’t you think?”

Harry didn’t reply and you wondered maybe he just didn’t get it?

You turned to look at him and he was already looking at you, stars now reflecting in his eyes.

“It’s cool if you don’t think that. I mean, like…”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Marry me.” He smiled so widely.

“Wha–”

“Marry me. Please.” He repeated himself, sitting up to pull something out of his pocket. He pulled out a small, dainty, engagement ring - one that you recognised from Anne’s collection. “Marry me and just be with me. Always. I know marriage doesn’t change who we are or how we love each other, but I just want to make you a little bit more mine. I’m always going to pick you. You are the love of my life. Choose me? Because I choose you.”

You didn’t realise you were crying until Harry was going slightly blurry in your vision

“Yes,” You whispered, “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” You shouted more and more loudly.

You sat and reached up up to grab his cheeks for a kiss. He wasn’t ready for it, but quickly found his rhythm against you. He kissed you so lovingly and you gave him all of you in return.

He pulled away, red lipped and slightly breathless.

“Let me put this on you.”

He held you hand shakily and your own hand was shaking. He slipped the perfect ring on and you smiled with so much happiness.

“Harry, it’s gorgeous.”

“Mum gave it to me. She gave it to me the moment we went on a break and I knew that I’d screwed up. She gave it to me, making me promise that I’d work hard to earn you back and marry the one person who I’d ever fully loved.”

“You’ve been carrying it around all this time?” You asked in disbelief.

“Always knew I was going to ask you. It was just a matter of when.”

“Well this was perfect. Thank you.”

“Thank you for saying yes.”

[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

Clingy Baby masterlist

[whore4abby]

heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker

what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)

i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts

ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it

high fashion;

kinda a part two of this !!

warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni

wc; 1.7k

“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.

“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.

you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.

she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.

before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.

the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.

you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.

“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.

“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.

“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.

he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”

you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”

you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.

her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.

you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.

he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”

he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.

abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”

you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”

“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.

abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.

she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.

you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.

you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”

she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”

you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.

you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.

she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.

she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.

you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.

she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.

she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.

she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.

you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.

an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!

[feyhunter78]

Hi there~ 🥰

Would nerd Miguel like legos? I just thought that maybe Y/N wants to give him a birthday gift or something, and gifts him a lego set? Just a silly idea I had tl get out off my brain🤣

Yes omg he’d be so into them!!!!! He’s got like a collection back at his mom’s house and you catch him kinda staring longingly at a new set in the store and you go back later to buy it for him.

PLEASE THE LOOK ON HIS FACE WHEN YOU GIVE THEM TO HIM JUST

“Look it’s not a big deal, I saw you looking at them and I thought it might be nice, a thank you for helping me out with lab and everything.” You tell him, holding the Jurassic Park LEGO set out towards him, unable to meet his eyes feeling a little silly.

Maybe he was looking at it in disgust? He’s a grown man maybe he thought you were a baby for buying him a toy.

“If you don’t like it no worries, I can return it, or give it to one of my cousins—”

Miguel stops you in your tracks, reverently taking the box from your hands. “I love it.”

“Oh—well…I’m glad.” You stumble over your words, face heating up, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch him marvel over the set.

“It’s even got the original trio, and the jeeps, I can’t wait to put this together.” He says, looking up and giving you a wide smile that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“I thought it would be right up your alley, since you like Jurassic Park and ya know you were looking at it in the store.”

OKAY SO if you weren’t dating at this point he’d just gush a lot, make a comment about how much he appreciates you and your thoughtfulness but if you are dating:

Miguel hooks an arm around your waist, brush the tip of his nose against yours. “You’re so sweet y/n, how’d I get so lucky?”

You press a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I could say the same about you.”

He puts the Lego set down before tilting your chin up. “Come on gimme a real kiss. I wanna show my appreciation.”

[asuyaka]

☆ Gojo Satoru and his boyfriend are a bit drunk and make it to the bedroom.

★ Fluff, Trans Male Reader!

You were buzzed.

Shoko, and Gojo were too. After all, it was a collective idea to go drinking after the Exchange event, and Gods you were never challenging Shoko Ireiri of all people to a drinking contest.

Gojo joined too just for the hell of it, and was the first one to get drunk. He wasn't very good with alcohol. You lasted about two and a half bottles after him before tapping out.

Yeah, you wanted to get drunk, but not drunk enough not to be able to stand up.

"Yo, [Name]. Is—is that tree fuckin' glowin?" Gojo hiccuped pointing at what looked to be a chair?

Honestly, the alcohol was one of those strong ones that Shoko saved for 'special occasions' as she called it. "I don't fuckin' know man..." You slurred tilting your head back and the white-haired sorcerer.

His blindfold was off, hanging sideways on his hair with slightly red eyes and flushed cheeks. You snorted, yeah, he was definitely out of it.

"What're you laughin' about huh?" Gojo asked—more like yelled— squinting his eyes and getting up close and personal.

You could practically smell the alcohol on his lips. The same ones that just wouldn't shut up when he was teaching. "You just can't shut up, can ya?" You asked holding the sides of his cheeks, forcing him to make a duck face— and fuck if his suprised expression didn't make your dick twitch.

"What? You gonna make me?"

As bad as you wanted to push him against the bed, a couch— fuck even the damn floor and ride him 'till he couldn't get a single thought through that pretty head of his—he was drunk and you weren't going to take advantage of that.

Groaning, you pushed him back to the chair he was sitting on, going to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

Even though you drank twice as much as Gojo, you could hold your own when it came to alcohol. Nowhere near as much as the almighty Shoko Ieiri, but it saved you from taking care of her when she's drunk.

When you got back, you caught Gojo dowining another bottle, his blindfold now discarded on the floor. "Oi, stop that. Drink this instead."

Gojo's eyebrows furrowed staring at the water with a pout. "I don't wanna!"

"I'll give you a kiss if you do."

How quickly he took the bottle and drank it was comical.

You rolled your eyes, picking him up despite all his whines about his promised kiss, and dropping him in one of the spare rooms Shoko had at her place.

"[Name]!!" Gojo fussed with an expression that was oddly close to tears. "I want my kiss! Gimme my kiss!"

"You'll get your kiss, just hold on." You deadpanned, kneeling in front of him as you tried to take his shirt off. "Oh... well 'm fine with this too!"

You didn't say anything about his more than suggestive comment, shimmying his shirt over his arms and putting on a new, clean, shirt that didn't have alcohol on it.

Standing back up with a quick peck on Gojo's lips, you changed into a new shirt as well, oversized, so you'd be able to sleep in your boxers.

"Baby... Sleep without a shirt! Wanna see your body..."

"No, Gojo. This is Shoko's place, not yours." You deadpanned, laying down next to him.

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—"

"Oh my God, fine, just promise you'll go to sleep."

"PROMISE!!" Gojo beams, watching you take of your shirt and crawl back into bed, scars from sorcery missions and surgery displayed over your torso with moles and bueaty marks accompanying them.

" s'so pretty..." Gojo whispered, tracing his hands over your scars with soft but sleepy eyes.

"Thank you, but you promised, now go to sleep."

Gojo was an affectionate and emotional drunk, you learnt that very quickly, but he was yours, and as his breathing slowly evened out, long white eyelashes covering those big blue eyes you can't help but get lost in, you quickly realized you were in love with him.

Not with the Special-Grade Sorcerer, not with the gifted kid of the almightly Gojo Clan, but the Satoru who wasn't afraid to show his emotions around you—his boyfriend.

The Satoru who kisses and looks at you like you're the most perfect man in the world.

The Satoru who holds your hand and confindes in you, especially after everything that went down after Riko Amanai.

You smiled adoringly, kissing Gojo's forhead and intertwining your hands together, slowly falling asleep.

Yeah, most people may not understand Gojo, most people may see him as an overconfident bastard who doesn't know his own limits.

But they don't know the real Gojo, but you do.

And honestly, you couldn't be happier with anyone else other than the man who was mumbling something about eating a cloud made out of ice cream in his sleep.

...actually... yeah, sometimes, you couldn't understand the things that went through his brain.

[thenewgraymare]

Rapunzel

You know those amazing Pony dreams where you find rare and unreleased ponies at a thrift shop or garage sale for like $1 each? Well, I had that happen in real life and the ponies are still here!

Yesterday was the Marysville Toy Show and I had a blast vending it. The promoters really go all out with their themes and ensuring the vendors have a great experience. This year’s theme was GI Joe. Their logo display evoked a military encampment, with a cot and lantern inside one side, a Jeep exiting the other side, a helicopter landing pad, rafting rapids, and smoked shark over a fire pit. And, to top it all off, a paratrooper dropping by to join in the fun. Vendors were given folders stating our name, rank, and location. Inside were custom dog tags with our name on them, the toy show, and “Mission Holy Grail.”

I set up my space and then browsed a little bit. Since my display took nearly the full four hours allotted to set up, I didn’t get much time to really shop and find goodies for myself. I mentally noted a few spots to check in the morning and headed home myself.

The next morning, just before we opened to the early buyers, a friend tipped me off to a table I had somehow missed and I headed over to see what ponies they had. I wasn’t expecting much-- probably overpriced or some fakies. But then, from a distance, I spotted pink with yellow hair and the shine of pink tinsel. I dared to hope and picked up my pace. When I tell you I was shaking when I grabbed that pony, I am not exaggerating in the least. It was Rapunzel, the mail order I nearly had as a kid and my dad never sent in the filled out form with collected pony points. Then I grabbed blue hearts Dazzle Glow. Oh, and is that a pearly Baby Cotton Candy? And pearly Baby Blossom? AND pearly Baby Moondreamer? Wait, that’s ALL the pearly mail order babies! Spunky too! Tropical ponies, and Perfume Puffs and Candy Cane ponies. Gimme all the ponies and nobody pinch me because I like this dream.

I asked the vendor how much and they were all less than $10 each. I gladly took the entire lot and danced back to my booth. I’m still in shock. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to own a Rapunzel after not getting her as a kid.

Mission Holy Grail? Mission accomplished!

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 3 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one Part two Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

Chapter Three

Eddie POV

“You wanna thank me for saving your life, Munson? Then stop trying to ditch me.” 

Steve sinks a little deeper into the couch, and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Steve?” Eddie flails, then, before he knows it, he reaches out, brushing Steve’s hair from his clammy brow. He cups his face and gently jostles him. “Steve! Shit, you with me?”

“Stop hassling me,” Steve mumbles. He’s turned a shade paler, if that was even possible.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Robin finally returns with the bandages. “Steve?”

“Jesus, will you both stop yelling?” Steve moans softly. “Just… gimme a minute, okay?”

“Okay. I’m gonna try bandaging him up,” says Robin to Eddie. “Go find a blanket. You didn’t notice he’s massively shivering?”

Telling her how Steve took a turn for the worse real quick feels like a weak excuse. “Yeah. Blanket. Right.”

“Oh, and clean clothes. For both of you. Something for me, too? And… Oh my God, I guess we need supplies for a road trip.”

Eddie grabs the cover from Steve’ bed, some clothes already laid out, and delivers them downstairs. Steve mutters his thanks and drags the pants on, while the others avert their gazes uncomfortably. He collapses back down onto the couch. 

He’s stopped bitching. It must be bad.

Robin places a dressing over Steve’s wound, unfurls a long bandage. Eddie has to admit—he’s astonished by how collected she is. Granted, like earlier, she pulls a spectacular spectrum of grossed-out faces. Eddie sees how tender she’s trying to be, as she helps Steve to sit, starts winding the bandage around his midriff. And he gets it.

Dammit, how did some guy he loved to hate, turn out to be so easy to like?

Still jealous, Harrington.

Also, though the poor guy is struggling to remain conscious, Eddie still struggles not to ogle that body. Steve’s chest really is mega-hot. And how the heck can somebody’s wet hair retain so much shape and volume?

“You gonna go get those supplies,” asks Robin, “or stand there and gawp till Vecna swallows Hawkins whole?”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut, scurries off.

Rifling through Steve’s stuff feels totally audacious. While Steve’s bikini girl posters are not to his taste–cringe!–he’s not un-enjoying himself. He literally breathes in Steve on everything—his premium-brand clothes, the bedding, the whole room. And woah, what has his life come to when Eddie Munson is intimate enough with Steve Harrington to dig his scent?

He drags off his ruined Hellfire Club t-shirt over his head—not without a pang, because all the scrubbing in the world’s not gonna save that pretty baby. He catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror, and staggers back into the bed. Woah!

His hair is a car-wreck, his torso a mass of red wheals and scratches. Yet that truly is all his injuries are. They scarcely overshadow his ink. He sorts out his hair, for which Steve possesses some truly excellent tools of the trade, and then discovers Steve owns a thick leather belt with a chunky silver buckle that isn’t entirely un-metal. He looks weird and almost preppy in Steve’s clean, crisp clothes, but…

… you’re still gonna stick out like a long-haired loon’s sore thumb. 

He locates a roomy woolly hat, bundles his hair up beneath it, and grabs the rest of the supplies.

Downstairs, Robin fiddles to tie the ends of Steve’s fresh bandages. Steve, meanwhile, lies partially beneath the blanket, his arm flung across his face. Eddie’s alarm spikes, though he tries to keep it light: “For a self-confessed hater of bodily fluids, you are smashing it outta the stadium today, Buckley.”

She glances up, a portrait of anguish. “He’s getting worse.”

“Stop worrying,” mumbles Steve, sliding his hand from his eyes. Then his head flops limply to one side.

“Steve!” Robin shakes him. “Eddie, he’s out for the count! What do we do? Henderson just radioed, and there’s like, army guys in town, going house to house. He’s heard your name and Steve’s in radio chatter, which means Steve is right. They know he’s been helping you, probably me too. It’s only a matter of time before…”

Eddie tunes out, in order to control his own ballooning panic. Then he puffs out his cheeks, steels his resolution. “You two should stay. He needs help, and he’s in no way as much trouble as I am.”

“Steve really, really doesn’t wanna be arrested. He thinks we should stick together unless there’s absolutely no choice, and… where he goes, I go.”

“Seriously?”

“I made a promise! Oh, and obviously, going on the run with two guys riddled with possibly rabid bat-bites has always been a dream of mine.”

While he searches for car-keys, Eddie considers making a solo run for it. Astonishingly, though, he simply can’t do it. “Eddie the Banished might be back,” he mutters to himself, “but he doesn’t flee from friends in need anymore.”

They haul Steve up between them, each hooking an arm over their shoulders. In the garage, they manage to wrangle him into the backseat of a Lincoln Continental that JR Ewing would be totally proud of. Like most of the Harringtons’ possessions, it makes Eddie wanna hurl. They shove the supplies in the trunk, fix a couple of bikes to the roof.

“You sure you can drive this thing?” Robin slides into the backseat, awkwardly manoeuvring Steve’s head and shoulders in her lap.

“No sweat.” Eddie beams at her, like he means it. “One issue—how does this colossus start when you don’t have to hotwire it?”

After a few minutes, and a helluva lot of grinding in the gearbox, Eddie pulls jerkily off up the driveway. After that, they barely go a block before hitting trouble. Flashing emergency vehicle lights blind them at every turn, army trucks roll by, and the quickest routes out of town have been ruined by the earthquake or roadblocked anyway. Eddie performs a clumsy U-turn and heads back the way they came.

“Shiiiiit, what we gonna do?”

 “Eddie, he’s awake, but he’s gone really cold. Steve? Steve! He’s trying to tell me something.”

“Drop him off at the nearest hospital?”

“He made me promise,” hisses Robin, though she sounds more doubtful than ever. Then, to Steve, “Shhh, take it easy. Don’t try and… huh?”

Eddie drives randomly, avoids another roadblock, where the earthquake has swallowed a whole street. Robin says, “He wants us to go toward Lover’s Lake.”

“Whut? Oh, screw it. Why not? I’ve got a creeping suspicion this is gonna end in disaster, whatever we do.”

As they drive, several more emergency vehicles tear past. Each time, Eddie’s heart lurches to his mouth, and he further trashes the Lincoln’s gearbox. Somehow, though, they reach the wooded road that leads toward the lake. Robin is in full-on panic mode: “Eddie, he’s barely breathing.”

“Okay, okay, keep calm.” Eddie’s instructing himself every bit as much as her. “We’re nearly there. Nearly there, ’kay?”

When they pull up on the closet verge to the lake, he realises they’re screwed. Searchlights streak the forest. Clearly, manpower is pouring into Hawkins from all over the State, for disaster search and rescue… and to capture and destroy satanic ol’ me. Oh, and Steve Harrington, my unlikely henchman.

He twists to where Robin is desperately cuddling Steve to her.

“Robin, there’s no way we can get him to the lake without—”

“He seems better,” she says. “He’s breathing evenly again, like he’s sleeping rather than…”

…dying? A thick lump clogs Eddie’s throat.

“…than wheezing and gasping,” she finishes. “He’s getting warmer again, too.” A flashlight streaks the hood. “Oh shit, shit, shitbirds! They’re getting near! What do we do?” 

Somebody is indeed getting waaaay too close, and Eddie is at last on a relatively clear road out of town. He makes an executive decision, presses the pedal to the metal, and drives hard into the night.

Part 4

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far.

[takerfoxx]

Okay.

I don't often gush about movies on this blog. Hell, I don't often go to the movies anymore. I just don't have the attention span for it. And I honestly was going to give this one a miss until someone who's opinion I trust was adamant that I needed to see this film right now on the biggest screen possible while I still had the chance. So, FOMO out won over, and I went to go see Godzilla Minus One in Imax.

...

Look, I've been a Godzilla fan practically all my life. My family used to rent those old english dubs of the films on VHS from Blockbuster in the early nineties. I grew up with these monsters. But I have to admit, I've never seen the original, nor have I seen Shin Godzilla. To me, Godzilla is about one thing and one thing only.

Fuck.

Yeah.

Gimme the big monsters just going HAM on each other. Rubber suits, CGI, I don't care! I want the big boys with beef to beef with a large side of cheese!

I guess that's why Godzilla 2014 ultimately left me feeling kind of cold while I absolutely loved KOTM despite how stupid a lot of it was. I just want my big monsters absolutely wrecking shit.

This was different. I knew it was going to be different. A remake of the original Godzilla, this time from the viewpoint of the common citizens still trying to get their lives together after WW2? I knew I was in for some heavy drama.

What I didn't expect was one of the most amazing theater experience I have ever had.

And I'm not just saying that because the movie is good, even though it is.

I'm not just saying that because the movie is great, even though it is.

I'm not just saying that because it's a goddamn masterpiece, even though it is.

I'm saying that because it's about as close to perfect of a film as you can get, and not just of a Godzilla movie, but just as a movie!

Like, it's a running joke that you can cut the human characters out of any Godzilla movie. Here, you could cut Godzilla out and still have a great movie. That's how good the human side of things was.

Like, you really grow attached to these people who have literally lost everything. You grow invested in their struggles, in their relationships, in their baggage, in their love for one another. You come to care about them and are genuinely happy as they eke out a new life after having their homes literally blown to bits. You just want to see them succeed and be happy together.

And that's when Godzilla shows up.

This movie is called Godzilla Minus One in reference to how post-war Japan was basically a Zero Society, left devastated by the conflict. And these people who literally were left with nothing suddenly find even that ripped away as an enormous monster just starts rampaging through the recovering cities.

And this time, Godzilla isn't an avenging hero. He's not a destructive anti-hero. He's not a fun mascot. He's not even a poor, suffering monster unaware of the destruction that he's wreaking. This Godzilla is goddamn menace, an outright monster that is absolutely terrifying. He wants to crush, kill, and destroy. This is Godzilla at his most actively malicious, and all you can do is gape up in horror with these people that you've come to care so much about, wondering how in the hell are they supposed to deal with this!

I won't give away how the day is eventually saved, only to say that it is a masterclass of character-driven suspense and emotion. You honestly come to root for the humans for once. You want to see them succeed, and are genuinely in fear for their lives. No exaggeration, I had my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes all throughout the climax. I don't cry during movies, and this movie made me sob like a baby. It was that good.

And it also had so much to say! Not only about Japan's collective trauma following the nuclear bombs or the other bombing raids like the original, but also about how the Japanese government dehumanized its own people during the war, treating them as expendable resources to fuel the war machine. The main character is a freaking kamikaze pilot who lost his nerve and abandoned his mission, and that plus another act of what he saw as cowardice haunts him throughout the movie, and while it realistically shows how such a person would be treated like a pariah by his former friends and neighbors, it is nothing but sympathetic toward him. He blames himself constantly, but the narrative never seems to.

And there's just this wonderful moment near the end, when it's clear that the government isn't coming to the rescue, so it's up to the common man to band together and find a solution, when a few men leave the mission for fear of their lives and that of their families, and are not condemned for it. And the scientist spearheading the whole thing gives this lovely little speech about how carelessly life has been treated during the war, from the kamikazes to the poorly maintained supply chains to how the common folk were left to fend for themselves, and he hopes to just once be able to secure a win that doesn't sacrifice any more lives. Wow.

I know it's probably too late for anyone else to see it, because I'm pretty sure it's theatrical run ends today. I just wanted to get this review off my chest, because wow, this was the best movie I've seen all year. What a goddamn masterpiece.

[savorypink]

ON MY KNEES FOR COWBOY AL 💆💆

you just had to say on your knees 🙄

"how was your day?"

you look up at him with large doe eyes as your small, manicured hands languidly pump his throbbing cock. the springs of your dingy recliner squeak as his hips buck into your lazy touches. your knuckles collect the warm pre-cum dribbling out of his tip as your thighs come together in a tight squeeze, your wetness staining the pillow you kneel on. alex looks down at you in lustful pride, tenderly patting your head and smoothing away your bed head.

"not bad. missed you to pieces."

you smile before lapping away at his release, pressing a lingering kiss to his tip. "missed you too, aly."

your watery mouth closes around his cock as you bring your head down to the shaft and hold yourself there, a muffled giggle escaping your throat as his pubes tickle the tip of your nose.

"easy, pretty one," he gathers your hair and holds it into a ponytail, pulling you off as soon as you begin to gag. "don't want you hurtin' yourself, do we?"

you pout and mumble an apology, pressing forgiving kisses along his glistening cock before taking him into your mouth again, moving your head in a gentle rhythm.

"i went to the farmer's market today," alex begins. "i picked up some of them wildflowers you like. got some strawberries for that cake you're bakin' too."

the carefully constructed bouquet sits atop the messy stack of poetry books alex had lent you, seeping bright colors onto the nightstand beside your bed. you smile around his cock as the fresh scent of flowers refills your nose, the comforting aroma stirring you out of your blissful slumber moments ago.

"you're makin' strawberry shortcake, right?" he asks, bucking into your mouth softly.

"mmph!"

"it's gonna be delicious, baby," he coos, chewing his bottom lip between his teeth. "i can taste it already. mm, don't stop."

you work your mouth along his cock at a quicker pace while your mouth overflows with drool, the pitter-patter of your warm saliva softly hitting the pillow underneath you. twisting and twirling your tongue as you suck, you moan as you grind your clit against the velvety satin of your pillowcase, the material deliciously burning the sensitive bud.

"your dad was at the gas station today," alex chuckles, licking away the chapped skin on his lips. "he asked me to check on you. you're a big girl; you don't need that. but fuck, i need you—daddy needs you."

you like that, being needed. the fuse between your legs begins to sizzle as you rock harder against the pillow, desperate whines escaping your stuffed mouth as the knot in your lower belly begins to tighten. 

"wanna know what i told him? gimme a sec—" his large hands hold either side of your head in place, roughly shoving his cock down your throat. fresh tears well in the corners of your lashes as his hot release spills down your throat. you ride the pillow in frantic snaps of your hips as your walls grip around nothing, your moans muffled as you swallow the milky, salty stream of his release.

"i told him you're in good hands."

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Two

Paul and Ringo cabaret duo au NOW!

Their collective bitter humor about the fan mag. I think George probably appreciates Paul getting into this sort of shit with him. Even if it is only on a surface-level. A reminder that the Beatles fame journey (something that's been hellish at times for George, enough to give him PTSD and other issues for the rest of his life) has not left Paul unscathed. That Paul actually does have feelings, however buried they may be.

Could even be that the appreciation comes out in the form of "I think your beard suits you. Man." Does the tacked-on 'man' mean a sort of "no homo" type qualifier? Or is it just an added endearment. I know we don't think of George as particularly inhibited, but it was the sixties. And of course Paul loves the compliment and has no idea what to do with it.

Can you all please thank Mal as he hands you your tea next time? Not that hard, guys.

Ringo's voice is so sexy. And I love how supportive Paul and George are of this very stupid song. If either of them had written it, they'd tear it to shreds, but it's Ringo, so we laugh along and enthuse about the sentiments behind the lyrics.

The communal bitching about EMI's treatment of them. As they should.

Oh goodness, it's the "Paul has an embarrassing crush" moment from that iconic post of @jeremy-hillary-boob He totally does and you should say it. "I never used to know what it meant". It's giving "girl pretends not to know how to hold her golf club so the hot guy will touch her".

I have a theory that some of their covers ~matter~ and "What do you want to make those eyes at me for?" Is the first one for me.

Okay this look right here that John is giving Paul? Not to, like, out myself as never having experienced pure love except from my own child or anything, but the only other place I've ever seen that look is on my one-year-old's face when I come get him from his nap. So ... "A lovely little baby, John was"

"If this boy dies, you're gonna cop it." Peak older brother behavior. He's joking, but he's also deadly serious.

In love with John trying to sing out of his range. He's trying so hard, you guys.

"Everybody had a hard year. 'well, I'm not sure, actually. Put [good year]." Same, John. Isn't it always that way? Hard. And good. He's such a genius lyricist. He just captures the human condition with such specificity.

Lol at Paul correcting John on the key of his own song (yeah, yeah, gimme some truth is secretly a colab but it's still a John song)

When they put a piano in front of Paul and John's instantly like "uh-oh, red-alert my beautiful boyfriend might not get captured perfectly from every angle" vs a year and a half later when he's bitching about Paul having too much screen-time in Let it Be. Well, you were part of the problem, babe.

I love George's way of teaching his songs. Whereas Paul was shouting key changes and counts between phrases, and John doesn't even bother to give any of that information, George is just softly singing "E, to F sharp minor. E to A." Beautiful. John and Paul, take notes.

Wonder if I'll get through a day without calling Paul a whore. Probably not.

John being instantly self-effacing after suggesting that genius little let's enhancement. "My mind can blow those clouds away" is actually much more original and thought-provoking, but John just makes fun of himself. Like. Just own it. You're John fucking Lennon!

The George/Paul convo (George talking, Paul hardly flinching) is so painful actually. Because from the outside, Paul's avoidance looks so condescending and unfeeling, but avoidance feels much more like 'Shit fuck shit dodge the fight, go around, don't react, don't engage, don't start something' and i really feel for both of them.

Let John do Help for gosh sakes!

"Not bad though. Good try, that. Johnny."

The part where Paul is looking just so exhausted, and he's actually letting it show, and then he sees the camera on him and hurries and tries to do a cheeky little Beatles head-shake and smile. But then he's really just too tired (and high) and he looks away and rubs his eyes. It was like watching an old circus bear. Those poor things.

And of course John's head snapping up like a little gopher when Paul says his name

[miyuhpapayuh]

Touch somebody...

“You mind if I lose control a lil bit.,” he speaks above her in a way that leaves her wondering if it was even a question or if he was just preparing her.

“It’s just been so long,” he continues speaking, running his finger down the side of her face. “I don’t know if I can hold back.”

“So don’t,” her fingers hook into his shirt, pulling him closer to her for a juicy kiss, immediately starting him up as he begins pulling at her clothes.

His touches were hasty, leaving her body tingling.

Tugging her panties off her hips, the shine between her thighs caught his eye.

A smirk plays on his lips, exciting her.

“Why don’t you do more than look at it.” She boldly says, pulling him out of his raunchy trance.

Nodding, he flips her over. His left hand grips her hip as his right helps enforce her arch.

“Stay just like that.”

The sound of his clothes hit the floor, before she feels his hand glide its way up her neck. His fingers slightly fanned out, making her anticipate his grip.

“You ready, baby?”

“Yes,” her bottom lip is immediately bitten into as he slides inside of her wetland, eliciting a deep growl from his chest.

“Fuuck,”

His hips fuse with her fat ass with each and every deep thrust. One of her hands covers the one at her neck, the other gripping the sheets for dear life.

Her moans get stuck as he curves to her spot. Her eyes roll back at the feeling.

“Oh shit!”

“Yeah,” he kisses her ear, before leaning over her.

“Yeah,” she moans back.

Both of his hands grip her hips, driving into her madly as she takes every stroke. Both of her hands grip the sheets.

“Fuck!” Her eyes shut tightly.

Without a warning, her orgasm rushes through. Her juices leak down her inner thighs and onto him, making that squelching sound that he loves.

“Gimme anotha’ one.” He groans, his hand finally wraps around her neck. It gave her motivation to answer his request, tossing her ass back on his lap.

“That’s right,” he teases, feeling her tighten around him, once more.

His strokes don’t let up as she wets him up for a third time, their bodies sticky and sweaty, by this time.

“Shit!,” she huffs, desperately trying to catch her breath as the chills running up her spine, his heavy strokes continuously take it all away.

“Oh my god– it feels s-so good!”

Still in his zone, he bottoms out inside of her. Watching her back momentarily lose its arch, his palm firmly recreates the slope.

“Just like that, baby.”

Working into her, his tempo sends her inching up the bed. He’s hot on her tail.

“Where you goin’, huh?” The rasp tangled in his words makes her whole body tremble, as he pulls her back towards him by her neck.

With her back pressed against his heaving chest and his lethal, yet delicious grip on her, she knew she’d be completely spent by the time he was through.

“Nowhere.” She finally answered.

Flipping her onto her back, he hungrily captured her lips in a soul searing kiss, sinking back into her.

A collective groan sounds at the feeling of her warmth engulfing him. His strong hands sit on her thighs, keeping them spread as his strokes start back up.

Her eyes wander between them, becoming mesmerized by the sight of him getting lost inside of her gloss, her bottom lip finds its way back between her teeth.

“You see that shit, babe? Mmm... You feel that shit?” His gaze is directly on her.

“Yesss, I feel it!,” she adds her fingers into the mix, pressing them against her clit. Her eyes begin to roll back.

“Shittt,” she gasps, her walls tug on his shaft as another orgasm hits. Her hands grip his hips as his stroke picks up speed.

Her eyes stare back into his now, stuck in his trance. He leans closer to her. His gold chain dangling above her face.

“Like you like, right?”

She nods frantically, her face scrunching up as he glides over her spot, once again.

“Hittin’ that spot, huh,”

“Mmhm!,” her head finds the pillows as he precisely presses up against her spot. Her body jerks as he pounds into her.

“Just like that,” her eyes roll back, feeling her body tighten up.

“Gimme that shit, babe.”

Her nails scratch at his skin as every stroke brings her closer to the edge.

“Give it to me.” His gaze never leaves her blissful expression as he pulls another orgasm out of her.

“Unh!, fuck…” her hearty moan goes straight to his dick, almost fucking him up. He slows down, hissing as she clings to him.

“Shit,” his heavy breathing sounds as he grinds through her death grip. “Pussy got me ready, babe..”

His mouth finds her jaw, nipping at her flesh as he speeds back up.

Yeah, it's short. I know. Some drafts just never get finished lol.

@thegifstories @blackerthings @sheabuttahwrites @harmshake @blowmymbackout @awerkofart @abeautifulmindexposed @twistedcharismaaa @hearteyes-for-killmonger @henneseyhoe @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites @cecereads209