#stops trying to Make Dating Work and just be's his slutty self

[desperatepleasures]

solid chance this fic just ends with condalbert deciding to break up and go back to being fuckbuddies and then having fucknasty breakup sex. the end.

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Epilogue

Joel makes good on his promise to date you, at least once.

Words: 4k

Warnings: Just a slutty lil farewell to our resident Jackson masseuse and her grumpy-arse maybe sorta boyfriend, smut, vaginal fingering, sexy times, stockings that are far too thin for early Spring. Minors DNI

A/N: Another thank you for your support of this little story that ended up being a bit bigger and more complex than I expected. I went there because of your encouragement. Thank you, always.

Part Eight | Series Masterlist

The season was turning, but there was still a chill of a nighttime. It had been six weeks since Joel returned to Jackson, the medical supplies he and the second expedition managing to find and defend ensuring a healthy and safe Jackson for at least another two winters. The whole energy of the place, the optimism, was back in the community, and you had thrived in it, started to bloom alongside the wildflowers dotting the pathways into town.

You’d spent the time working, teaching Ellie, occasionally hanging around Joel’s place while he convalesced, first in his bed, then on the new-ish couch Tommy had found and dragged in through the back door. It wasn’t leather like his old one, and the springs stuck out in the centre so that you had to be very careful where you sat, but it was better than the rocking chair, and it was enough for him to sit still in for at least a few weeks.

He kept promising that he was going to date you, at least once if you’d let him, and each time you’d fobbed him off, telling him he had to get better first, that he was no good to you limping, that you wanted him marginally less grumpy if he could manage it. You weren’t sure why you were stalling, other than that you felt you were toes to the edge of a precipice.

When you were little your little family of four had driven out to the Grand Canyon, and you’d stood on the edge of the red dirt and been totally overwhelmed by the size of it, of all the negative space, the absence. You’d found yourself, aged eight and a half, ready to cry and even now, thirty years later, you remembered the howling wind, the echo of it.

You thought about the beauty of it, now. Now that you had seen so much worse, so much more, you reminded yourself that people used to travel entire countries to see the Grand Canyon. In your mind’s eye you entered your memories and stood beside yourself, your child self, and took her hand. You pointed to the sky, drew her eyes up and away from the ground beneath. Felt her pulse race under your touch as you showed her that the magnitude of it was the beauty in it, was the point of it all.

You accepted Joel’s invitation for the next Friday night. Then you ran to Maria’s to find something to wear.

--

You were supposed to meet at 8, a respectable time after dinner so as not to feel like you needed to have a meal; a more casual time, a more intimate time, when you could drink and chat and only stay an hour if you found it wasn’t working. It was both an in and an out.

Except that you were late, your last client having not only stored muscle tension in his fascia but emotional tension as well, and as soon as you had pushed into the glute he had unleashed years of mourning, of loss, of fears. You had stopped, wrapped him in a towel and pulled him upright, stood back and let him shake with the force of it. It wasn’t new, that people would come with muscle aches and discover trauma aches instead, but you lost track of time trying to put him back together again, trying to assure him of his safety. Tommy was right; sometimes it doesn’t come out until you feel safe enough to let it.

But it meant by the time you were pulling your door open you were about forty minutes late. Your cheeks burned with the shame of it, your timekeeping one of your strengths in the before-times, in the times when you had no other responsibilities other than the hell of being 15.

Joel was coming up your path and you stopped, nearly dropping the jacket you were still trying to pull over your shoulders. You couldn’t read his expression in the dark but his eyes were on you, and he was coming up, fast.

‘Joel, I’m so sorry,’ you started, as he strode towards you and up your porch. ‘I got caught up with a client, I couldn’t leave until they were…’ his hands were on you then, gripping you to him, your jaw resting in his warm palm.

‘You OK?’ he asked you, his eyes searching yours.

‘I’m fine, of course I am,’ you said, flustered, under the intensity of his inspection. ‘I just couldn’t…he was so sad, Joel. I had to stay.’

He nods at this, his jaw ticking. You resisted the urge to reach up and sink your fingertips into the masseter. ‘Were you worried about me, Joel?’ you asked, and he narrowed his eyes at you, then, suddenly freezing up.

‘Thought you weren’t coming, or that you were…thought maybe something had happened,’ he said, and you felt yourself soften.

‘I’m fine. And I would never stand you up,’ you said, moving to hold him around his waist, to circle him in your arms, only able to reach halfway around him, broad as he was. He avoided your eyes, the worry etched deep into his brow.

You still hadn’t kissed him. All of the things he had done to you, the way he had pulled you apart under his hands, his mouth, spread around his cock, nothing so intimate as a kiss.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said again, low and velvet in your throat. ‘I really like you, Joel,’ you went on, and he finally met your gaze, again. The naked vulnerability in it making you pause. You wondered how many people had ever seen this side of him. You suspected he could count them on one paw.

‘It’s late,’ he said, and started to pull away from you. ‘Maybe we should try again some other time.’ To your dismay he had nearly turned his back to you, and without thinking you grabbed him around the middle and tried to turn him back.

‘Wait,’ you said, and he hissed then, his muscles seizing. You let go of him, horrified.

‘M’ok,’ he muttered, raising his hand to stop you from rushing toward him. ‘Just…still gettin’ there, is all.’

‘Come in, please,��� you said, not touching him, not moving towards him, hoping your voice would be enough to get him to stay. ‘It’s cold, I have a bottle of whiskey Tommy slipped me when you were in the hospital, I can…’

‘You needed whiskey, baby?’ he said, and he had that lopsided grin on his face again, and you wanted to lick it off him. ‘Were you worried about little ole me?’

Never mind, you wanted to slap it off.

‘Oh for fucks sake,’ you said, rolling your eyes and turning back to your door. ‘Don’t get all cute just because I got scared when you nearly died,’ you said, and you heard him chuckle. You entered your house and turned to him, one hand on the door. ‘In or out?’ you asked, and you knew that you were talking to the both of you, knew that he wasn’t the only one facing the indecision, knew that you palming the responsibility off onto him, that you would accept his decision even if it meant never talking to him again. He hesitated, but only for a moment.

--

He was back in your kitchen, on the same chair from a more recent before-time, from before he’d found a place for himself somewhere under your skin. You were both sipping your whiskey, listening to the crackling fire in the other room, letting the silence seep out and blanket you. He was still enormous, still took up nearly half the space, and you ceded all of it to him.

‘Ellie speaks the world of you,’ he said, after a while, and you knew that this was important to him, that first and foremost he was her dad, her keeper and her protector.

‘She’s a lovely kid,’ you said, and then corrected yourself. ‘Not a kid. She’d fucking kill me if she knew I said that.’

He chucked into his glass. ‘Won’t tell her,’ he promised.

‘How’s that healing?’ you asked, gesturing to his wrist. It wasn’t in a splint anymore but it was still tightly bandaged.

‘S’just weak, aches in the cold,’ he said, and you nodded. You reached out and pulled it towards you, lay it on the kitchen table between you. You slipped the bandage away, watched the blood rush back in and pink up the flesh underneath it.

‘You need to stretch it, keep it strong,’ you said. ‘Bones probably healed but now the muscles’ll be lazy.’

‘Yes, doctor,’ he said, and you glanced up at him, at the crinkles in his skin and the warmth in his eyes as he teased you.

‘I mean it,’ you said, pretending to be offended, using it as an excuse to slip your hands around his wrist, his forearm. You felt the chords of the muscles there, the sinew and the veins. You rubbed your thumbs in firm circles, like you had shown him to do on your knee, all those weeks ago. You blushed at the thought of it, at the echo of the pleasure he had wrung from you not ten paces away.

He grunted a little, shifted in his seat, and you pulled his arm up at a right angle, so that his elbow was resting on the table. ‘Here, do this,’ you said, and you slipped your fingers between his, rested your forearm against his, leant in a little to ease your combined weight onto the joint.

‘I’m going to try and push your hand backwards, you push back,’ you said.

‘We arm wrestlin’?’ he asked, smiling again.

‘We will if you don’t behave yourself,’ you shot back, and he grinned.

‘Tell me when,’ he said, and you nodded your head. He grimaced at the strain through the joint, but you felt it stretch, felt it working under the force you were applying to it.

‘That’s good,’ you said, without thinking, ‘doing real well.’ He sucked a shy little breath in through his teeth. You stopped pushing, looking up into his pink cheeks. You continued to hold his hand, your eyes fixed to his.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and your mouth went dry.

‘Doing real well, Joel,’ you said, and watched as he blinked slowly, drinking it in. ‘Doing so good.’

He pulled you then, by the arm, out of your chair and into his lap, his mouth finding your neck and suckling, hard, as you struggled for purchase on his thighs. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, the pulse of it pushing into your cunt as you settled yourself down on him, your thin little stockings under Maria’s borrowed dress doing absolutely nothing to provide a barrier against his throbbing for you.

He gasped, looked up at you as you perched above him. His pupils, blown wide with want, mirroring the ache you felt between your legs and in your heart for him. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste and you wondered idly if he’d brushed his teeth before heading to the Bison, if he’d hoped this would be the end result of the night or if it was just habit. You smelt the leather of his worn jacket. You reached up and let his salt and pepper beard scratch at the skin on your fingertips.

‘So good to us, Joel,’ you said, and you heard the gentlest whimper catch in his throat. ‘Looking after the town. Keeping us safe.’

‘Want to keep you, baby,’ he whispered, his eyes dropping to examine your lips. ‘Keep you tucked up all warm and safe, keep you under my roof where I know you’re protected.’ You shivered, at the heat of it, at the sincerity in it. ‘Be the one to shield you. All sweet and soft in your little kitchen. Wanting me, waiting f’me.’ He finished, biting his bottom lip.

‘I want you,’ you said, simply, feeling his cock jump underneath you.

‘Yeah?’ he asked, and you nodded.

‘Been waiting,’ you bit out, realising for the first time that it was true.

‘M’sorry baby,’ he said, playfully goading you. ‘Where did ya want me?’ he whispered, tucking his head under your chin and licking a stripe up your neck, chewing idly on your earlobe. You shivered again, a shuddering little thing that also came with a whimper. You took his hand from your waist and dropped it to your pussy, pushed his fingers to cup you there, gasping when he ran a fingertip along your seam.

‘Everywhere,’ you whispered, and he grunted, shifting his weight. With one warm hand splayed across your shoulder blades he leant you back, his eyes running up and down your body, devouring you. He kept his hand on your cunt, idly running a finger up and down where you ached the most for him, and you worried for a moment that he would feel how wet he’d made you just with his gaze.  

His breath was warm across your cheeks when he exhaled. He took the hand from between your legs and cupped your breast, rolled the nipple through your dress, made you whimper.

‘Joel,’ you whispered, and you watched as his eyes lit up, as the sparks caught on kindling and turned into a forest fire, as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the strain. You wanted to run your tongue over his bottom lip, nip at it.

‘Sssh, baby, I know,’ he said, pulling you up off his lap to stand in front of him, your knees shaking. His arms bracketed your hips, gripping the table behind you, so you were surrounded by him. He remained seated, watching you from under heavy eyelids.

‘Take it off,’ he said, and you felt your pulse in your neck, thunderous.

‘Which?’ you asked.

‘Maria’s dress you don’t think I recognise, those silly little stockings that ain’t doing nothin’ to keep out the cold.’

He leant back on the chair again, kicked his legs out so that you were standing between his ankles now, leant his arm on the back of the chair and scratched at his beard. ‘Well, go on,’ he said, and you felt so exposed to him then, vulnerable in the heat of his stare.

‘Help me,’ you said, feigning not being able to get to the zipper, just for the excuse of turning away from him, from his eyes that were taking you apart atom by atom, from his hands resting on his thigh, from his thick fingers you wanted to slip into your mouth, let him push down on your tongue and suckle at him.

You felt his hands on your back, the zip coming down, the way he slipped the dress from you like he was unwrapping a present on Christmas morning. You leant over a little, trying to slip your stockings off and you heard him moan, felt his hands on you again, his warm paw on your lower back pushing you into a deeper bend, the other pulling on your hips to bring you closer to him, his hands gripping you, positioning you. You heard his sharp inhale when you slipped the stockings over your bottom, felt your cheeks blaze when he reached up and slipped your panties off along with them, bent over and completely exposed to him, wet and glistening in the light of the kitchen, the sound of your gasped little whimpers mixing with the ever-present whir of your forty-year-old fridge.

‘Oh, my girl,’ he said, and you wanted to launch yourself at him, seat yourself back on his lap and bury your head in his neck but he was running his hands up and down the back of your thighs, edging himself closer on the chair, pushing you forward so that your breasts rested on the kitchen table, your cheek flush to the cold wood.

He bent his head and placed a single kiss at the base of your spine and you worried your knees would buckle, worried you would collapse onto the kitchen tile. As you gasped he brought his hands up to cup your bottom, spreading your cheeks enough to slip a thumb into your cunt, probe the warmth and feel the wet collecting on his fingertip. You startled, trying to buck away, trying to buck towards him, circling your hips to capture him inside you, and you heard him chuckle, felt his lips dip lower to your tailbone as he twisted his hands, his thumb still inside as his fingers came around to cup and rub at your slit, your poor little aching clit caught between his fingertips.

‘Jesus,’ you cried, finding religion despite never having set foot in a church.

‘Want to keep you full of me,’ he muttered, sitting back down on the chair again and pulling you with him, spreading your legs over his so you were open wide, obscene and dripping in his lap, pulling your legs apart with his and whispering filth in your ear, cupping your breast with one hand and the other sliding into your heat.

‘Want to keep you here, my pretty girl all safe and warm in my arms, full of my cock and my fingers, crying out for me when I’m not there.’ You were gasping, your vision narrowing, barely able to concentrate on anything except for his words, for his fingers stretching you, his legs pulling you impossibly wide. ‘Won’t let nothin’ hurt ya, baby girl,’ he grit out, and you felt a sob rip through your throat, the pleasure he was drawing out of you mixing with the comfort, with the intoxicating allure of him protecting you, of him standing between you and so many terrors.

In your right mind you wouldn’t have believed him. Would have known there were things out there even the great Joel Miller couldn’t topple, that there were threats known and unknown, seen and unseen, things out there wanting to spill your blood, the blood of the people you cared the most for. But Joel was inside you, in your cunt and in your ear, and his words were chipping away at your resistance, sliding under the door long ago locked tight. You were far from your right mind. You surrendered to the seduction of it, of the intoxication of it, of the myth this man was peddling that you would buy again and again and again.

‘There she is,’ he said, as you came on his fingers, your cunt gripping him and your hips rolling, his face pressed hard into your neck as you twisted into the agony of it, your mouth open and gasping, your face turned to the Gods.

You felt his fingers underneath you, one hand wrapped tight around your torso to hold you steady as he released himself from his jeans, and you felt him then, pressed against the back of your thigh, the velvet heat of his length, the thundering throb of it. You had barely caught your breath, had yet to fully come back to yourself, before he was pushing himself into you, pulling you onto him, your neck caught in his teeth as he bit down on the nape, tried to stifle the groan blooming in his chest.

He felt bigger this way, the stretch even sharper despite his best attempts to prepare you, and your walls fluttered, fought to accept him. You shuddered, the sudden sting slamming you back into your body, and you gripped his hands to stop him, to pause. He stilled immediately, his breath hot and gasping.

‘Give me a minute,’ you gritted out, leaning back onto his shoulder and burying your nose in his jaw, panting, placing a placid little kiss to the salt and pepper patches there.

You felt him reach around you, his finger finding your clit and gently circling it, collecting your slick and pushing it over the nub to rid you of any friction. You groaned, arching your back against him, your hands digging into the meat of his thighs underneath you.

‘So beautiful like this,’ he whispered into your ear as you felt the pleasure overtake you, the throb in your cunt synchronised to your thundering pulse. ‘Can feel you gripping me,’ he went on. ‘Stuffed fulla me, baby.’

‘Stop,’ you gasped, the moment suddenly too intense, a fear gripping you then that if he kept talking you would give him anything; the shirt off your back, the blood in your veins. He chuckled, watching you struggle to take the pleasure he was pushing into you, through you.

It was wrong but you couldn’t figure out why, because it still felt so fucking good, and you wanted more but couldn’t figure out how it was possible, not sated by him seated fully inside you, not close enough to him as you pressed your body entirely against yours. You huffed, frustrated, standing before he could stop you and pivoting to face him, straddling him again in the chair and sinking yourself down on him in one swift motion, so that he gasped and then groaned when the heat of you enveloped him, joined you in a harsh cry when your clit met his hipbone and you settled there, shifted your hips to press into the nub.

‘S’better,’ you said, and you watched his lopsided grin emerge.

‘My girl miss seeing me?’ he asked, and you rolled your hips to shut him up, watched any semblance of cogent thought leave him when you gripped him there.

‘Say it again, Joel,’ you said, sliding your hips forward and back in a way that you knew wasn’t enough for him, but was making your clit throb when it grazed over his skin. He grunted, suddenly finding it hard to think clearly, and his brows saddled.

‘Keep you safe?’ he said, uncertain but meaning it anyway, and you shook your head.

‘Keep who safe?’ he asked.

‘You,’ he answered, still not following, and you planted your feet on the floor, raised yourself up just to bounce back down again.

‘Who am I, Joel?’ you asked, nearly breathless, and finally, finally he understood, his little huffed out laugh sending a thrill through you as he reached down between your bodies, felt where you were joined.

‘My girl,’ he said, finding your clit and edging his fingertips across it, sending fireworks up your spine. ‘My beautiful girl, so tight and wet, so needy for me, cryin’ out for me in her kitchen.’

You groaned, feeling him grip you around the middle with one arm, lifting you up and down on his cock, rocking into you and always, always, always watching your face, nibbling at your chin when you leant back to gasp for air.

You were going to come. It was too fast. You still had so many other things you wanted to say to him, wanted him with every atom of you, with every fibre, the neurons in your brain lighting up just for him. Wanting to live in the torrent of pleasure he brought out in you, wanted to twist and writhe in it. You felt, again, on the edge of tears, but not for wanting, this time. Not for the losses.

For the having. Of Jackson, of the wildflowers on the paths pushing past the cold. Of the little family you had eked out at the end of the world, of Ellie, of Tommy and Maria and Robin. Of this man under your body and on your kitchen chair, calling you his and promising to keep you safe. Of this man, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion and clinging to him, willingly readying yourself to cascade over it.

‘Want you right here, always,’ he grunted, and you keened, felt it then, that you were wanted, that you belonged.

You didn’t have the words for it, vowed in that moment that you would spend the rest of your life trying to find them. For right now you did the only thing you could think of, leaning over and gripping his jaw, angling his face to you as you landed your lips on him, kissed him as you felt a tear streak across your cheek and onto his skin, as you shuddered and felt your cunt milking him, as he spilled into you and you joined him, the ecstasy and the pleasure and the warmth of it. In your little house in Jackson, behind enormous walls, to hold you.

Taglist:

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@hiroikegawa

@ilovejoel-andjavi

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@daddy-dins-girl

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[glitterjay]

jay hard thought: dating jay and having sex for the first time after constantly teasing him for months. you guys decided to take it slow but recently you’ve been trying to hint that you’re ready by wearing barely anything to bed, squirming around in his lap during movie night with all ur friends, and bending over 24/7 on purpose. you’re convinced he’s gonna be sweet and soft. but you’ve pushed his buttons and caused him to snap so he fucks you rough and calls you a slut who needs to stop being so bratty. he cream pies you multiple times and then the next morning he eats your pussy for hours as a sorry 🤭

yall are something and i want some of that something too

warnings: 18+ content, MDI! jay x afab!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie lmk if i miss something

author’s note: wow. i have been so busy with uni and work that it feels like i completely forgot how to write. im sorry in advance if this is shitty

it had become a constant thing and ー to jay’s dismay ー a habit of yours to constantly tease him. a new fresh relationship had started for the both of you, and despite the very noticeable sexual tension in the air, you both agreed to take it slow and steady. was this part of a plan? absolutely. who were you to deny that seeing jay contain himself didnt turn you on? the way he bit his lip, or how he would excuse himself sometimes while you hung out with friends became an addiction for you. and here you were once again, only wearing one of his white t shirts to bed and just that. nothing else. the rest of the boys were spread around the house, in the guest room and living room, and you knew that if you only wore one of jay’s shirt, he would go nuts. and he did.

“what the hell is wrong with you!? just wearing one of my shirts with a house full of boys? are you crazy!?”

you were disappointed that he didnt do much other than scolding you, but oh were you so wrong. accepting your failure, you closed your eyes and gave your back to him. you kept the shirt, but the only condition was that you could not walk out of the room in just that. closing your eyes and getting ready to doze of, you felt a tingling sensation on your thighs. ignoring it, you kept trying to go to your dreamland, but the sensation started making its way up your legs. you opened one eye to see your boyfriend’s hands making circles on your skin. it was not new for jay to give you sweet caresses before sleeping, but they felt different this time.

in one sudden movement, a gasp left your mouth as his cold hand found your core. you tried to push him away, eyes now wide open, but it was impossible. his other hand held your body against the bed, and he was strong enough to not budge an inch. “you should’ve thought about the consequences of not wearing anything to bed.” his voice was way raspier than usual, and you could sense a different feeling from his eyes. it made you excited, but you also knew that jay was a softie inside.

your train of thoughts had stopped when something slammed into you. you screamed at the pain, quickly putting your hand over your mouth. he was balls deep in you, not moving, just standing there staring down at you. once again, he had thrusted into you harshly, still no preparation at all. the stinging made your eyes water, but it soon started melting with the pleasure of every thrust. you had never seen this side of your boyfriends but god were you loving it.

soon enough you started watching stars around the room. jay kept a fast, harsh, and steady pace, already making you come undone various times. but him? he had enough self control to hold his own release for a long time. just as you were about to reach your fourth high, you felt something warm inside of you. it felt like a whole hose had been turned on and warm water came out of it rapidly. the feeling was enough for you to release your own orgasm, making the juices mix and drip out of your pussy.

“this is what slutty and petty girls get when they tease their boyfriends”

[roanniom]

the most persistent filthy thot i’ve been having lately is just being spit-roasted by steddie 😔

it’s the only thot in my head tbh

sorry issa

Cece. I’m DEAD. But also same.

Note: I wrote this - as if possessed - in an Uber, sitting in an airport, and then on a plane. I PAID FOR INFLIGHT WIFI TO FINISH THIS. Please enjoy and please comment or reblog with comments to tell me what you think ♥️

Come and Help

Steddie x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV sex / unprotected sex, blow job / deep throating, threesome / spit roasting (lol), dirty dirty dirty talk

Eddie is fucking you from behind. You’re on your hands and knees on the bed, just getting absolutely railed. I’m talking everything jiggling, the sound of skin slapping wetly, his balls smacking into your clit every time he buries deep. You’re moaning so loud and Eddie chuckles behind you.

“You keep carrying on like that, Steve’s gonna hear you,” he warns. At the mention of your shared roommate, you clench down harder on his dick. It definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie, who hisses in response. “That what you want, Princess? Want Steve to hear you getting fucked open so good?”

You pant, dropping down to your elbows as you try to manage how overwhelmed the idea has made you. If you weren’t so far gone you’d deny it. But you’re gone. You’re lost in his words and his voice and how full he makes you feel so you nod.

“Y-yeah.”

Eddie laughs again, hands digging into the meat of your hips to slam you back on him harder this time.

“Yeah? That’s my slutty baby.” The dirty words are praise dripping from his mouth like honey, making you salivate. “Bet you’d want him to join us, huh?”

The moan you let out is pornographic and Eddie huffs in disbelief.

“Really? Want him to join us, Princess?”

“Want it, Eds,” you whimper pathetically. You’re past the point of self censorship. Eddie has teased you before about Steve, good naturedly pointing out how you fuck him with your eyes and flirt with him incessantly despite dating Eddie. You’ve teased Eddie back for getting turned on when Steve comes back from playing a pick up game of basketball, just a pair of tiny shorts, his shirt long since discarded, showing off his sweaty, hairy chest while gulping down water. You have both acknowledged your twisted shared attraction for your roommate, whispered through giggles in the dark of night. So Eddie bringing up Steve isn’t surprising.

But the next thing he says is.

“What if I told you that I talked to Steve and he wants to join us too?”

You stop breathing. That combined with the fact that Eddie brings his thrusting to a standstill makes everything feel like time has frozen.

You look over your shoulder back at Eddie to find him still clutching your hips. His chest heaves from the exertion of fucking you. A small smile on his lips.

“Want that pretty girl? Want Stevie to come and help me fuck you?”

You’re nodding emphatically before he finishes speaking.

“I…I want Steve to help you fuck me,” you reply softly. Shyness and shame swirl in your belly, exactly where Eddie had just been rearranging your guts. Eddie gives you a brilliant grin in response and slaps your ass lightly.

“I knew you would,” he says before cupping a hand over his mouth and calling out. “Harrington! Bring your dick in here!”

You cringe and laugh at Eddie’s choice of words and are surprised when the door immediately opens Steve walks in, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Took you guys long enough,” Steve huffs. Your eyes widen when you notice how massive his erection is in his sweatpants. He’d been outside the door listening.

“Had to get you a little worked up though, didn’t we?” Eddie hums. He pulls out of you slowly and you gasp at both the drag of his cock on the way out and at the sudden emptiness, crumpling a bit lower on the bed now that he’s no longer gripping your hips.

“I’m more than a little worked up, y’know?”

When you look back up you find Steve staring past you, his lips parted and jaw slightly slack. You glance over your shoulder to find Eddie up on his knees, stroking his cock which is wet with your slick. His other hand cups his balls and his gaze is hot and heavy. Watching Steve watch him.

Fuck.

You push up from the mattress then, rising up to your own knees for the first time since Eddie had first pushed you down and speared into you earlier. Steve’s eyes immediately fly to you. Taking in the thin tank top that’s skewed, almost fully exposing your breasts. You take the opportunity to strip it off, finally fully naked, and just as Steve’s eyes widen, you laugh and throw the garment at him. It lands draped over his fluffy head and obscuring his eyes, making him chuckle.

As he reaches to pull the tank top off his face, you turn and shuffle over to Eddie on your knees. You two make eye contact as your hands find him. Eddie’s eyes ask you silently - this still ok? You nod with a massive smile that makes him give you one of his own.

You wind your arms around his shoulders and begin kissing his neck, up to his sensitive ears. His hand speeds up on his cock, but he takes his other hand to squeeze one of your newly freed breasts appreciatively. You moan a little against his skin at the feeling.

“You guys are fucking hot,” Steve says suddenly, his voice hoarse. You both look back up at him and groan to find that he’s pulled his sweatpants down far enough to reveal his cock - massive and swollen and a needy pink - which he’s already fisting impatiently.

“So are you, big boy,” Eddie chuckles. You reach out a hand to Steve and Eddie continues. “But are gonna join us or are you just gonna watch? Because I have to start fucking someone again or I’m gonna bust.” Eddie bites your shoulder playfully when he says it and you notice Steve flush across his chest. He drops his sweatpants and boxers and clambers onto the bed, into your waiting arms.

It’s a flurry of motion at first. Almost like nobody knows who should touch who and where and how. You’re overwhelmed by the feeling of two sets of hands on you. Lips touch your neck and your back and your tits and your palms slide against hard planes of muscle and rounded edges and smooth skin.

Before you know it you’re sitting back on your heels with a hand on each of their hard cocks as they fight for dominance in the hottest kiss you’ve ever seen. Eddie’s tongue is in Steve’s mouth but his hand is in you, groping at every part he can reach. He settles on cupping your breast while Steve reaches out to grip your thigh.

It’s all so hot you can’t take it, but you still need more. When you swipe your thumbs over their weeping slits, the two men break away gasping.

“I want more,” you announce. Almost petulantly. It always works with Eddie, any kind of demands. He’s putty in your hands, so you’ve learned to ask for what you want. Eddie’s face crumbles in worry for a millisecond, afraid you feel like you’re being ignored, but you quirk the corner of your lip up to indicate that you’re definitely fine.

Steve’s the one to move forward first. He grabs you by the waist, pulling you into their bodies.

“Want us to focus on you, huh baby?” he asks.

“Yes please,” you say with a smile. Steve turns to Eddie with a grin.

“She always this cute at sweet?”

“No. She’s often a brat,” Eddie quips, giving your ass a quick slap. You preen as if he’d complimented you.

“And you love it,” you say, giving him a sloppy kiss. After a moment, Eddie pulls you from him by the back of the neck and pushes you towards Steve, encouraging you to kiss him the same way. You’re more than happy to oblige.

A little while later, you’re roused into awareness by the fact that Eddie’s started humping against your ass. You pull away from Steve, dazed, unaware of how much time has passed. You feel drunk, limp and pliable in their combined arms.

“I really meant it. If I don’t get to fuck someone soon, I’m gonna explode,” Eddie says impatiently. Your skin erupts in goosebumps as you imagine being filled by both of the men in front of you.

“I want…” you begin, but trail off. Uncharacteristically shy.

“What d’you want, baby?” Steve asks, rubbing a hand down your back soothingly. In contrast, Eddie slides his fingers into your soaked folds, playing with your aching clit. The sensation makes you buckle forward against Steve.

“I…want you both to fuck me.”

Eddie let’s out a dark groan while Steve inhales sharply.

“Yeah baby?” Eddie asks. His eyes flick to Steve who looks stricken with want. “How exactly do you want us to fuck you?”

You’re feeling positively nonverbal at this point, so you place a hand over Eddie’s big hand where it plays between your thighs and grab Steve’s hand to bring it to your mouth. When you begin sucking on his fingers, making pointed eye contact with him, his eyes almost roll back.

“Fuuuck, Princess. Yeah. Yeah we can do that.” Eddie grunts beside you.

The two men share a look above your head, agreeing on some unspoken logistic, and then they are springing into motion. Manhandling and maneuvering you the way they want.

Which is how you find yourself back where you started. On your hands and knees on the mattress. Feeling so full you could burst. But this time, as Eddie fucks into you from behind, Steve is feeding you his thick cock inch by inch into your waiting mouth.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Steve cries out when you swallow around him. Eddie barks out a laugh from behind you.

“She sucks cock like a champ, eh Harrington?”

“You’re fucking telling me. Shit!” Steve grasps at your hair, trying his best not to fuck forcefully into your throat, but moaning when you take him to the hilt all on your own.

Meanwhile Eddie’s back to his favorite thing in the world - gripping onto your hips and driving into your pussy like his life depends on it.

“So wet, Princess. You’re loving this, aren’t you? Stevie in your throat and me in your pussy?” Eddie says in his husky, sex-colored voice and you moan around Steve’s cock, making him curse. “Always such a good girl, but you know taking us both at the same time makes you bad, right?”

You spasm at that. Brought right up to the precipice just by his words alone. Eddie knows it, humming gleefully, and reaches down. On hand flat on the small of your back and the other winding around to find your clit.

“Princess like you wants to be bad?” he coos, swirling circles into your sensitive bud.

You’re practically seeing stars now. The feeling between your legs is so overwhelming and the feeling of Steve’s hard dick sliding in and out of your throat has tears streaming down your face. You scrabble for purchase, grabbing at Steve’s thigh and he places his hand over yours gripping you with all he’s worth.

“She might be bad, but she sure is sweet, Eds,” Steve coos. Steve wipes a thumb under your eye, sopping up the tears that have collected there, before sliding down to the spit leaking from the stretched corners of your mouth. “How does she taste?”

Eddie groans that the question.

“Check for yourself.” He lifts his hand away from your clit and you whine at the loss of stimulation, though you squeak and pipe down when he delivers a hearty slap to your ass. “Don’t you want Steve to taste you, bad girl?”

Eddie reaches over your body, offering his glistening fingers to Steve who leans forward and takes them in his mouth. His forward motion causes his cock to move forward too, settling deeper into your throat and making you gag. You breathe deeply through your nose to settle the urge, wanting to keep him as deep as possible for as long as possible, especially when you hear him start to moan.

“Holy…fuck,” Eddie mumbles, voice devastatingly low. Steve looks at him with half mast eyes as he sucks on Eddie’s fingers, his hands digging into your hair to help guide you steadily up and down his dick.

Eddie’s own dick twitches inside you as your walls begin to tighten, announcing your climax. Eddie’s fingers slip from Steve’s mouth and he trails them down the line of your back, leaving a trail of Steve’s saliva.

“You gonna cum, baby? This too much for you?”

You finally pull off of Steve’s cock with a shuddering gasp. You’re heaving, lungs desperate for the air you’ve deprived them, but as you watch Steve begin to fist his own cock in front of your face you salivate yet again.

Another spank delivered to your ass.

“I asked if you want to cum,” Eddie prompts you and you whimper.

“Yes yes please. I wanna cum. Can I cum, Eddie?” you ask, breathless.

Eddie locks eyes with Steve again over your body. Steve looks thoroughly fucked out, face, neck, and chest flushed, hair sticking up in every direction, sweat on his temples. His abdomen clenches and Eddie’s confident both of his lovers are as close as he is.

“Ask Stevie,” he says simply.

You’re completely out of it now. Cheek mashed into the sheets, lurching forward and back with each of Eddie’s thrusts, gazing up at Steve above you and watching him jerk himself off. You don’t hear Eddie’s question, so he spanks your ass again, this time on the other cheek. The sting is so good you wail, back arching and hips shimmying to push back into his next thrust.

“Ask Stevie for permission to cum,” Eddie commands.

You grip the sheets and look up at Steve, taking in his blissed out expression. The way his big hand moves punishingly up and down his shaft, the ruddy mushroom head of his cock almost disappearing in his grip with each upward tug. The pearl of precum collecting at the tip, making you want to swallow him whole yet again.

“C-can I cum, Stevie?” you ask. Practically sob. Steve’s face crumples in pleasure, so close to his own release and you beg. “Please!”

“Cum for us baby,” Steve says quietly, his free hand reaching to cup the cheek that you don’t have pressed into the mattress.

Eddie thrusts in all the way in that moment, filling you to the very top, hitting that spot that he knows you can’t resist. With his hand working your clit, and his voice muttering things like “that’s it baby” and “take it” and “come on, pretty girl,” you find yourself absolutely falling apart.

You cave in on yourself as the pressure overwhelms you. You want more and less at the same time and convulse, all of your muscles spasming at once. Your vision goes practically white as you reach the peak of your high and then you’re boneless, dropping to lie flat on your stomach, your knees no longer able to hold you up.

Eddie doesn’t mind one bit though because immediately he’s slipping out of you and turning you to flip onto your back. You lay there as Eddie shuffled up on his knees, pushing himself up between your spread legs. Stroking his cock with quick, hard pulls that you can hear because you’d soaked him with your cum.

You’re dizzy now from the heights you’d reached during orgasm, but you arch your back up from the bed luxuriously, opening your eyes to find Steve above you, his balls swinging over your face as he fucks himself with his fist in time to Eddie’s own strokes.

Eddie’s not sure where to look. Your still heaving breasts? Steve’s weeping cock in his unforgiving grip? He settles on both, eyes flying from one to the other as he reaches his climax. Steve does the same, enamored by the way Eddie touches himself with abandon and awed by the way your body melts and stretches in the aftershocks and afterglow of being fucked so well by the two of them.

Steve cums first. He groans gutturally and his hand speeds up on his cock as ropes of cum spurt out onto your chest. You gasp at the feeling and arch into it, both as a genuine reaction and then also a little for show to egg him on. The sight of Steve releasing, combined with an image he loves (cum on your tits) has Eddie cumming not long after.

“Holy fucking…Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie groans as he spills hot, sticky cum all over your tummy. A little gets on your mound and you lift a lazy hand up to smear it a little, smiling up at him as he drops forward to look at your face.

“Feels good, Eds?” You coo. Having cum first, you’re the first recovered. You reach up with grabby hands and after catching his breath, Eddie chuckles and pulls you up into a sitting position.

You wind your arms around him, pressing you spend-sticky tits to his chest. Eddie drops a kiss to the top of your head, and you feel another one on your shoulder when Steve moves up to cocoon you in a hug from behind.

The three of you stay like that for a while, sticky, sweaty, and satisfied. Wrapped up in each other’s arms, lips pressed to any skin that can be reached.

Then Eddie lifts his head and smiles ruefully at Steve.

“Thanks for coming and helping. As you can see, she’s a handful.” As he says handful, Eddie squeezes a good handful of your breast, making you squeak and swat at him.

“Hey!” you protest without any bite, grin big on your face. You melt however when Steve palms the other one, more gently, lightly playing with your nipple. You practically slide back down into his chest, muscles jelly, lust sated but still burning like a content ember in your belly. In spite of Eddie’s teasing words you look at him with love and grasp his hand tightly.

Steve smiles down at you and then up at Eddie.

“Anytime.”

~*~

[cashaywallace]

Oh I hurt jessika feelings yesterday bc I exposed her

“She talked about my body”

Bitch no I didn’t

Again YOU MAD CAUSE I DONT FIT UR EXPECTATION OF GOD that’s one.

I’m not coddling your short comings - why you move out mamared- SHE WAS TRYING TO HELP YOU FROM BECOMING A HO. - HI CAM GRL BF.

And if you not sexting on camera you giving pretty girls a naturally mean AND “I’m better than you just cause light skin” aesthetic - red not racist she prolly said some weird shit cause you being weird about yo heritage mixing - finding yourself on a 1/2 scale of black and white- I fucking get it but YOU ZEALOUS AND DONT GOT REASON TO BE- ya looks is average why you use all that make up - UR ACTUALLY VERY FUCKING PRETTY BUT YOUR ATTITUDE IS A REFLECTION OF HOW MUCH POINTLESS MAKE UP YOU BE USING ON A DAILY. - mama red not crazy bitch Yal from the south HAY BLACK N WHITES GET ALONG - what is you doing jessika.. - dating a white boy who wana be black - Yal perfect for each other - YA BOTH MISSED THE MESSAGE GIVEN TO YOU IN YO UPBRINGING AND IT SHOW IN YA DAMN CARS - “we trying to sow both worlds go together” BUT YOU DOING A YOUTUBE ROSE OF KINGSNQWEENS BLACK GIRLS W WHITE BOYS ARE BETTER // BETTER TAKEN CARE OF - NO YOURE PREJUDICE TURNED RACIST - congrats that’s sad. Why YOU GOT KICKED OUT THE HOUSE AND STEALING OFF RED NOW. W/O BF KNOWLEDGE. - UR A SCAMMER DUMBASS. … THE REST OF GIRLS WHO LOOK LIKE YOU YOU IN COMPETITION TO BE BETTER THAN VS FINIDING INSPIRATION TO LOVE YOURSELF - why you got goldenkurls leg tattoos and India love hand but Marie nails 🙂🖕 - UR RUDE N LOST N NASTY INSIDE N CALL IT CUTE - JASMEAN ( why is that yo fucking name - bc I got long hair than most black girls 😒 - why corri leave you ( besides me liking his photos when YOU was stalking me 💋 HI DADDY - SINCE YOU PETTY DUMBASSES )

You trying to become em / ME - BLASPHEMY KARMA. - where’s UR BRAINS / individually … what man told you he need you slutty clothing and long nails n toes done 24/7 w ya hair did - INSTAGRAM FAKE WORLD COATING YO BANK ACCOUNT. - ROBBING THE WHITE HOUSE. - YA DONT CHECK THE CAR FAX

“Well why she get to post her body photos”

BC THERES CLEARLY CONFIDENCE N SELF LOVE IN MINE. IM IN COMPETITION WITH MYSELF THE GIRL IN THE MIRROR TO BE MY BEST FUCKING SELF W SELF LOVE IN TACT ALWAYS.

Went from scrawny little kid ( yes we got caught up on is my ass this or that enough) THEN I BUILT MY BODY I WORKED FOR IT HARD N SHOWED THE PROGRESSION ALWAYS.

You bitches say you in the gym - LIFTING 5 lbs or over doing shit with dumb form saying that’s how you got ur OH SO OBVIOUS ENHANCER ASSES. - WHY YA QUADS XARRYING YA ASS BUT UR MEAT OF THE LEG DONT EXIST - WHERES the real support - not ur core either.

T.hooww you got WASH FLAT ABS … WHERES UR SURROUNDING MUSCLES - you use enhancers not weights to get it

Then you in competition w women who don’t even fit in the lane you trying to take over 🤯

When a nigga and a female really on they shit and sit back and obverse that it really shows Yal lacking brains so you OVER HIGHLIGHT qualities you deem gon be long lasting to a man // woman - why ya relationships ALWAYS FAILING. - WHO WALKS AWAY FIRST , ME.

- a bitch been at the lib for 10 months and ain’t cracked a single book open here or Ventura county

- what was that day Obama I wrote the dna malfunction in medical research and the hydrogen bomb in space you put in my fucking head to make me SPECIAL NEEDS AND SEEM LIKE A CRACK HEAD - FOR THE BOOK WORM BITCHES BUT STOP DOING THE MOST 24/7 SHOWING OF YA BODY IN A WAY THAT DONT BALANCE YOU.

- YAL WANT ME A LACKING HO CLEARLY , IVE TACKLED EVERYTHING IN THE UNIVERSE AND SMSHED IT SO NOW IM BORED MAKING FUN OF WHY YO HISTORY STUCK ON COWS BRAIN REPEAT

- if you see me post a body photo now it’s MANY REASONS BEHIND IT 1. I’m bored and reminiscing 2. I’m bored yo hos is tired and played out 3. I’m bored KAMALA TAKING HER SWEET DAMN FUCKING TIME. 4. IM BORED TRISTAN A SLOW OVER PLANNED LOSER 5. IM BORED LEE N HOWARD IS SLAVE OWNERS HOW MUCH DEEPER WE NEED TO GO 6. IM BORED PAULA A LOSER N TRYNA HOLD ON 7. TAYLOR SR DONE. 8. IM BORED WTF IS YOU NIGGAS SCARED FOR 9. IM BORED YOU WANT ME FRIENDS W A HOMELESS MAN TO RAPE ME 🫤 BITCH THATS NOT MY BABY DADDY TF MENTAL ILLNESS YOU GOT. 10. IM BORED SO IM SHOWING WHO IN A “aspiring limelight” NEED A DAMN PSYCHIATRIST 11. IM BORED SHOWING REAL MEN A REAL EQUAL WOMAN ON THEY ARM 12. IM BORED SHOWING WOMEN HOW TO BALANCE THEY BEAUTY AND BRAINS 13. IM BORED SHOWING GOD DONT LIKE UGLY N ITS NOT ALL THE GAYS* 14. IM BORED AND SHOWING HOW TO BE COPESTETIC IN ALL ENVIRONMENTS WITH WHAT YOU DEEM DONT GO TOGETHER BUT FIT TOGETHER WHEN YOU GET OUT YA BOX 15. IM BORED SHOWING HOW AMERICA IS A ADDICT STATE ADDICT TO PAIN N MISERY AND CODEPENDENT ON SAYING SOMEONE ELSE THE FUCKING BAD GUY

- YOU HO•es NEED WONDER WOMAN BUT YOU CHICKEN

- the aliens is bored waiting to eat and you standing next to em 😹😹😹😹😹🤯🤯🤯🤯

[elmelloill]

anyway whatever it's been the longest fucking day here's some wip wthursday

modern au won the poll..... modern au is my self-indulgent personal project where the premise is...."what if during lysander's slutty college years he meets aymeric and hien and catches feelings (and no other big traumas have overwritten the lingering relationship trauma he technically also has in canon)" and the way to make this happen was to make them all grad students at the same university. it exists in whatever snippets i feel like writing and this is the one i was working on.

A mistake, he had told Rowan, and it was. This was exactly why he didn’t get involved with people who already knew his friends. The distance he preferred with his partners was impossible to maintain otherwise, not without hurting the people he cared about. If he could go back to that night, he would never have—but that only allowed for the possibility of a dozen other moments that he would have had to resist the pull of Aymeric’s earnest eyes.

“I heard a lot about you during college, and since you both moved here,” Aymeric goes on. “I never expected—”

Lysander sets down his glass forcefully enough to make a sound, startling Aymeric into silence.

“I can guess what Haurchefant was saying about me,” he says, but really, it is Aymeric’s impressions that he is trying to forestall—they risk coming far too close to something resembling a confession. He slides into Aymeric’s lap in the ensuing uncertain moment, making a feeble attempt to smooth his ungraceful interruption. “The flattering and the less so.”

Aymeric chuckles, reaching around Lysander to set his own glass aside before letting his hands fall comfortably to Lysander’s hips. “No, really, it was all—”

“Nope.” Lysander cuts him off with a finger against his lips.

Don’t string him along. He hears Haurchefant’s warning in his head and instinctively retorts that he has not intended to do anything of the sort. Aymeric just—

But he can’t blame Aymeric, who stopped pressing him for a proper date as soon as Lysander asked him to, who has never crossed a single boundary that Lysander has laid down. Even now, he doesn’t protest the interruption, obligingly returning Lysander's kiss, accepting the deflection with far more graciousness than Lysander suspects he deserves.

[thot-writes]

ok sue u really pulled my leg now i gotta write barbie headcanons

barbatos when he’s totally fuckin love-drunk headcanons (18+ NSFW);

barbatos is quite a difficult man to get close to. not that he’s unapproachable by any means, just that he’s so proper and work-focused he tends to keep people at arm’s length

it’s incredibly hard for the average person to find a flaw with him (annoyingly so)

…but you’re not the average person

you are fortunate enough to be the object of barbie’s affections — and the sides he shows with you are unlike anything anyone could predict

first of all he’s a nympho. his libido is ordinarily very tame, but when he’s in love with someone (which he is) he does enough to make asmo blush

his desire now unquenchable, the only thing that’s on his mind now is sex. rough, animalistic sex with you pinning him down and fucking him til the pain and ecstasy mix in equal measure. all he wants at any given time is for you to destroy him

you practically have already. the first time you fucked him he was surprised by how aggressive (and how fucking fantastic) you were and you’ve all but ruined orgasms for him now

he can’t finish if he’s masturbating anymore. no amount of toys or self-inflicted punishments will cut it, if you’re not doing it then it’s not good enough.

despite this he has an extreme amount of self control. even when his mind is flooded with nothing but thoughts of you he’s able to will his boner away — otherwise he wouldn’t be able to get anything done.

he still carries out his tasks as perfectly as before, and on the surface it’s like he hasn’t changed at all. even diavolo insists that he should show more of his “romantic side” to you, you’re his partner after all.

but you know him better than that. when he calls you by honorary titles or gives you his trademark polite smile, you can sense the hunger in it. you know as well as him that in his heart of hearts he wants you to throw him down on the table and wreck him in front of everyone.

let them all see how slutty your boyfriend is, how shamelessly he cries out and begs for more, how much you can stretch his cute little hole out and how many loads of cum he can shoot all over himself.

you’ve told him before that you’d happily do that, and as much as he would love it if you did he simply can’t bring himself to dishonour his duty as lord diavolo’s butler.

of course you mean so much more to him than just sex. but it seems the more he loves you the more he craves you, so it’s a double-edged sword.

you don’t get to see each other as much as you’d like because of your responsibilities, and whenever you do get a chance you never end up doing what you said you would.

whenever you decide on “no sex, just a romantic date” it ends with the freakiest fuck session you’ve had, but when you decide to just “let your inhibitions run wild” it turns into a night so saccharine even the biggest sweet-tooth couldn’t stomach it.

despite that though you still insist on trying to label your dates (barbatos just lets you at this point, there’s no stopping you anyway)

in closing, barbatos is utterly obsessed with you body and soul, and no matter how much you touch him, kiss him, or fuck him its never enough to satisfy him. he’s greedy and always wants more, always vying for your attention and, despite his appearance, quite prone to jealousy.

you can’t say that you mind it at all.

[slothspaghettiwrites]

Food for thought Slothie....

Bucky Centaur and Reader human. 😏

You're welcome.

You asked for this Nonnie.

Don't Hold Back

Warnings: Modern Fantasy AU, blind date, fluff, sappy Bucky, slightly anxious Bucky, mention of interspecies relationships, fingering, a kiss to the peen, slutty reader is exactly what this Bucky needs.

Steve told him to get back out there. That he had mopped around long enough after his disastrous last relationship, with a nymph named Dot, ended. Apparently caring Steve had morphed into tough love Steve solely for the purpose of making his new beau happy. And that new beau wanted to go on a double date with one of his friends.

How the times have changed.

From where Bucky stood in front of the restaurant, he could see Steve and Sam already sat at the table, the harpy was hard to miss and Steve didn't exactly blend in with his dumb orc self nearly toppling over a waiter when he gestured so wildly. He couldn't see a third person sitting with them and he wondered if maybe his date had bailed. He knew he wanted to bail.

His tail flicked nervously, trying to work up the courage to go inside. He couldn't stop fidgeting before he left the house and he'd hoped the brisk walk here would calm his nerves but it hadn't. It just made his dark coat a bit too shiny from sweat. Bucky combed his hand through his long hair one more time and opened the door.

There was in fact a third person at their huge table. You sat quietly next to Sam, a soft smile on your lips at the ridiculous story Steve was telling about the last baseball game he was at with Bucky.

"And this jerk thought it would be so hilarious to get me on a jumbo-tron with nacho cheese all over me."

Bucky couldn't stop the smile on his face. And maybe that had been Steve's plan all along because just at that moment you looked up at him and he felt like his whole world stopped. For starters, he immediately recognised you as human, but then there was just everything else about you. You were beautiful and... and... and way out of his league.

And all throughout dinner you kept proving to Bucky that you were definitely, most ardently, way too good for him. You were smart, funny, so fucking gorgeous he was drooling before drinks even arrived. He was also pretty sure that even if you did like him enough to want to date him, sex would be off the table. Or maybe it would have to be on the table so he could spread you out and give you enough support that he didn't crush you when he fuck-

"Bucky."

The way you said his voice made him blush, his head snapping in your direction to give you all of his attention.

"Sam and Steve are heading out, apparently 5am runs are more important than spending time with their best friends," you glared playfully in their direction for a moment before turning back to him. "Do you wanna get a drink? I know a great place."

Yeah you certainly did know a great place. Your apartment. Bucky's nerve skyrocketed when stopped in front of the building, but you were holding his hand and dragging him up the steps and into the oversized elevator before he could stutter out any sort of response.

One second he was thinking he'd have a nice cup of tea and ask you on a second date, the next his tongue was in your mouth with your fingers digging into his scalp until his whole body shivered with anticipation. He gripped your ass harder, pushing you against the door to your apartment until you let out moan loud enough to wake the dead.

"Inside," he gasped, not letting you go even as you twisted to open the door.

Bucky rushed inside, kicking the door closed behind him. You kissed every part of him you could reach; his cheek, his jaw, his neck. You nibbled at his sensitive skin until he knew he'd have a mark tomorrow he'd have to explain to Steve at work. Nimble finger undid his shirt while he was still trying to catch up with everything.

"Fuck hell, were you carved by the gods?" Your breathy laugh echoed around your nearly empty apartment.

He took a moment to see everything, scared of knocking something over in his hasty. It was all so open planned, vast even compared to his tiny place. Bucky avoided the bed against the far wall, he'd feel like shit if he broke that now.

"Couch."

You read his mind. He stumbled his way to the overstuffed, oversized sofa placed near the center of your loft. Anxiety was starting to tickle in his gut as you continued to get undressed. The scars ruined his back and hindquarters stung like the wounds were still fresh, even as you kissed and teased his flesh. Your fingers traced over the raised lines.

"I-" he started, "look, doll, you don't-"

"Bucky, I want to do this. Do you?"

Yes. Absolutely. He struggled to think of something better than fucking your little brains out right now, but there was still a part of him holding back. He knew he was the freak your interspecies relationship. There was a reason most centaurs don't form relationships with other species.

"Yes," he finally said, "but it's not like the most intimate way to have sex, ya know? I'm practically trampling you at your size."

"Oh don't tease," you joked, tucking a curl of his hair behind his ear. "Look, I've got the condom and lube, so as long as you don't gag me I can make it sexy."

Bucky paused. Did he want to know what you meant by that? Maybe not right now. He smiled, reminding himself that there was no point getting anxious. You both had a great time at dinner, all this was really just icing on the cake. He kissed you again before letting you drop to the floor to get the supplies, giving your ass a slap as you ran towards your bed across to the room. As casually as he could while your back was turned, he checked the height of your couch. Definitely a good height and it seemed sturdy.

He flinched when your warm hand slid against his coat, his muscles tensing even as his cock twitched. His anxiety crashed over him again, questions trying to stomp out every bit of his arousal. He got so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice you kneel beside him until he felt your breath on his cock. Your small hand wrapped around him, stroked him slowly. Bucky twisted around to see you, your lips part and your hand between your legs, teasing yourself.

"Shit, doll," he said, his own hand coming up to pull at nipples.

"I'm not gonna lie to ya, Buck, I'm a bit of a slut." You kissed the tip of his now leaking cock. The wrap being ripped open and put on made him quake. "I'm not gonna need much prep and I don't want it. I wanna feel you splitting me in half."

"Then fucking getting up here."

The moment you were in reach, Bucky grabbed you and yanked you over the arm of the couch. Your squeak of surprise turned into a moan he spread your cheeks. He ripped the bottle of lube from your hand and popped the cap. He poured a generous amount between your cheeks and watched the clear liquid glisten over your skin.

Two fingers easily slid in, your body relaxed into the plush sofa.

"More," you demanded, pushing your hips back into his hand.

Bucky leaned over, his front knee squeezed between you and the sofa, until he could nuzzle into your neck. Finally paying you back for the love marks you left on his neck.

"You always this hungry, doll? I can feel your bitty hole trying to swallow my fingers." He grunted, a third finger slipping inside you easily.

His fingers curled until your body quaked, moans falling from your lips like water. You kept thrusting your hips back, begging him to go harder and faster. Bucky's cock ached between his legs. He couldn't stop thinking about being inside you, feeling your body squeeze and milk him dry.

"Please," you moaned, your back arching so beautifully. "Fuck me. Fill me up with your big cock until I'm busting at the seams."

"You keep talkin' like that doll and I won't last."

Still his fingers slipped out of you and he drizzled more lube on. Bucky shifted forward until his body covered yours, his front legs caging you in, and his cock teased your slick hole. He slid his dick through the mess of lube until you threatened to fuck yourself with his dick.

"Just tell me if it's too much, okay?" He lined up carefully

"It won't be- fuck."

A moan ripped through your chest, his cock spearing into you. It sent jolts of pleasure through all his limbs, the squeezing and pulsing of your muscles around his cock had him falling forward. He stilled for a moment, trying to regain control of himself.

"Shit, Buck, so full, so big." You whimpered, your body trapped beneath his. "Move please, I wanna fucking cum on you cock. Need you fuck me. Don't hold back."

He dug his fingers into the cushion, one of his hands reaching underneath him for you. You woven your fingers into his, steadying him, assuring him you weren't just putting up with his needs. You wanted Bucky.

His hips drove forward. The couch jolted across the floor with each thrust of his hips. Bucky didn't completely fit inside, but fuck was your body trying to swallow him up. He moaned your name, over and over again like prayer while he tried to ruin your body.

"Yes, Buck, right there. Fuck so good, so good, always wanna be this full. So fucking perfect. Fucking me so good. I'm so close."

Your fingers squeezed his, whole body seizing up at the force of your oncoming orgasm until you screamed his name. Bucky could feel your orgasm in his soul, the spasm of your body around his cock turning his brain complete off until all he could think was finish, cum, finish, cum. Your little whimpers of praise only edges him, encouraging him.

"That's it, use me Bucky, fucking me so good. Not gonna be able to walk right tomorrow and all I can think about is you fucking me again and again until you don't even need to prep me. Fuck! Ruin me!"

On your final command, he broke. His hips stuttered, burying himself as deeply as he could inside you. His knees collapsed and he knew his was probably crushing you, but he didn't have any strength left. Bucky shivered, sweat cooling off his body too quickly. He felt your hum of satisfaction more than he heard it. His breath still coming out in pants, he lifted himself up enough for you to scoot out from underneath him. He shivered again, the loss of your body heat made his muscles ache more. You removed the condom for him, trying it off and dropping it somewhere out of reach for now.

"You okay?" You asked, a glowing dazed smile on your lips.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck until he was practically falling asleep over your couch.

"I am so okay," he sighed. "Your dirty mouth might have killed me though."

You laughed, kissing his hair and stroking his shoulder.

"Just waiting until we fuck without a condom, Buck. You'll get to hear all my naughty cream pie dreams then."

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[bgyuus]

𝒈𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

; you use to be a painter who paints explicit content for a living when a mf came up to you, asking if you'd like to paint one again, just for him (a painter of the night type beat)

warnings: literally nsfw//gojo smoking//fingering//slight degradation//spanking

"you're y/n, right? the one who paints-"

you sighed at his statement. sure you've painted something so sinful for a living but you've stop doing it to take your mind off of things like that.

the man in front of you noticed your uncomfortableness as he chugged in his green tea. "i'm just excited to finally meet the amazing painter. i really like your work," he commented. you only nodded in reply.

"say, would you mind painting one for me?" he asked making you choked on your tea. "i don't do stuff like that anymore, sorry," you said while getting up from the chair across him. you walked away when a hand wrapped themself around your wrist, pulling you onto the person's lap.

"if you said you didn't do those things anymore, then why is there a recent painting of yours here?" he hummed into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you scanned the table and mentally slapped at your stupidity.

the said painting was spread across the table in front of you. you scanned the painting looking for yesterday's date, ah there it was, on the top left corner. "so, what's it gonna be, princess? would you paint one for me?" he asked again, lips slowly tracing against your neck.

you quickly shook your head a no, placing your painting back into its folder. the man's hands were still wrapped around your waist. you tried to escape but he was stronger than you, making it hard to escape his grip.

he sighed at your disobedient self. "i might just strip you here and now if you don't paint for me," the threat made you stop squirming. you looked into his eyes to see if he was joking. yup, he wasn't kidding after all.

you sighed as you nod your head. gojo's face beamed in delight as he took you home. he lead you into a room with a woman who was lying on her stomach on a mattress on the floor.

gojo told you to feel like home as you placed your art supplies on the floor. "hey baby," the woman slurred, her hands wrapping around the male's neck. your cheeks heats up at the view of a shirtless gojo. you gripped your brush impatiently, wanting for them to quickly start so that you can quickly finish this shit.

a few minutes later, the woman and gojo already had their skin clapping against each other. your cheeks flushed, trying to concentrate at the blank sheet in front of you. the heat between your thighs increases at the sight of gojo slamming into the woman who was all on fours.

gojo's eyes gazed towards you. a smirk tugged on his lips seeing you being all flustered. "aren't you gonna paint?" he asked as the woman released her juice over his cock. you glanced down at your paper. the grip on your brush tightens, mentally scolding yourself for staring and wondering how it feels like to be beneath him.

the now fully clothed woman thanked gojo, wished you a good night and left the room. you gulped nervously at the sickening aura surrounded the room.

"why haven't you started anything yet?" he asked again, puffing out smoke from his pipe. you bit your lip, refraining yourself to answer. "oi, answer me," his hand grabbed your face making you look at him directly into his blue ocean orbs. "i- uh," you murmured, thinking of an answer.

"you enjoyed watching me fuck that woman, don't you? want me to fuck you like that as well, princess?" he asked, smirking at your red tinted cheeks. you looked away from his face, embarrassed that as if he read your thoughts.

he slowly brought his lips to meet yours. it felt passionate at first. so this is how he got most women wrap around his finger, you thought while letting his tongue explore your mouth. he slipped off your clothes and threw them across the room, leaving you only in your bra and panties. 

“so wet already,” he hummed, his finger pressed on your clothed clit. you squirmed, telling him that you'll paint as soon as he let go. gojo did. he let you go and left the room. you sobbed into the palm of you hands. how could you think and want something like that to happened to you. he literally somewhat like forced you to this.

~~~~

later that night, gojo gave you a private room for you to ease your mind and finish of your painting. you thanked him for that but the problem was that there wasn't any image in your head for you to paint on the sheet of paper in front of you.

you sighed in frustration, crumpling the 12th paper that night. i need some inspiration, you thought as you exited the room. the hallways were dark, only a small of light was illuminated from the bright moon in the sky.

you turned a corner and hit something big. "hey doll, have you finished painting?" a voice asked. ah shit. you looked up and saw the devil himself. "uh, haha, nope, not yet, i don't have an inspiration for it," you laughed nervously.

gojo leaned towards you making you take a step back until you're trap between him and the wall. "inspiration? want me to help you with that?" he offered, biting your earlobe. your breath hitched as his hands starts to untie the knots of your silkie robe.

a yelp escaped your mouth as he carried you back to your room. once inside and the door closed, gojo didn't hesitant to take off every single clothing on you, leaving you now completely naked beneath him.

he mouth went straight to your breasts. tongue twirling your nipples as you squirmed under him. "ngh, s-satoru," you squeaked. gojo went down, leaving kisses and marks all over your stomach until he stopped at your opening. "hah, you're soaking!" he laughed, making you flushed with embarrassment.

"shut up idiot, do you want me to paint or not," you grumbled, looking to the side trying to hide your red face. gojo laughed, sticking two fingers into your dripping pussy. "f- ahh," you moaned, gripping the sheets. he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, making you a moaning mess.

"satoru, i- i want you, now, please!" you begged as you cummed all over his fingers. and without further ado, he pushed his cock into you, making you arch your back against the sheet. "fuck!" you screamed, nails gripping his back. "hah, y/n, you're still tight," he huffed, pushing his member in and out of you.

you were enjoying it, until he turned you over. face down into the sheets and your ass up. "ngh, ahh~" left your lips multiple times. that was when a smack rang through your ears. "wha-" another spank land onto your ass. you hissed in pain (and pleasure). "that's for you to remember this very night," he then flipped you so that you can face him again.

he kept on thrusting into you over and over again as you came for the second time that night. "satoru! i can't anymore," tears trickling down your face at the amount of pleasure he's giving you. he grabbed your face and brought it close to his face. "i haven't cum yet, plus you've always my dick inside that slutty pussy of yours, don't ya," he smirked as he tossed your face and continued to rearrange your insides.

after a few more thrusts, he shot his seed into your clenching walls as you came with him again as well. you collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving tiredly, as gojo put on his clothes back on. "you've got your inspiration, now finish that painting," he said before leaving you all alone in your room.

[afriendlyblackhottie]

WAP

Summary: You’ve been twerking around the house ever since WAP came out and Chris can’t work while his girl is singing about wet ass pussy.

Pairings: Chris Evans x black female reader

Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty-talk, fingering, Daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, twerking

(A/N okay so ever since the music video for WAP came out, I’ve been obsessed.)

»»——————————-　♡　—————-————-««

Ever since the WAP music video had come out, you’d been prancing around the house rapping the lyrics. Most of the time dancing which usually involved you twerking. It’d be fine if Chris wasn’t working which led to him getting distracted as he couldn’t help himself as he always found himself stopping to watch your ass shake. He couldn’t pinpoint why it was so hot watching you sing along to the vulgar song, but damn it was hot.

He’d been surprised at your willingness to quarantine in Boston to be close to his family. As a California girl through and through he knew you were home sick even if you hadn’t really left the house. You’d been a little mopey recently though he did try as hard as he could to keep you entertained and happy even if you were still stuck in the house. Ever since the video dropped you’d perked up a little. He was enjoying seeing you back to your bubbly self.

You’d been feeling extra good about yourself after finishing your goddess braids yesterday. Plus the tiny little sundress you’d put on. You knew what you were doing by wearing that. It clung to your ass and was also really flouncy which meant if you made even the slightest movements he could see everything. 

Anytime you twerked he could see your ass and also pussy because of course you weren’t wearing any panties. Dirty little slut. He was trying to resist. Really. He had an interview coming up soon, scripts to go over, emails to respond to, and work on his website, but you were kind of making it hard for him for focus when you looked like that.

Standing with your back to him as he tried to work on his laptop, hands on your knees. “Yeah you fuckin’ with some wet ass pussy,” you sang, giggling as you shook your ass. Your pretty little cunt on display for him. You knew what you were doing. It was like putting a gazelle in front of a hungry lion.

He looked down at his laptop then back at you then his laptop then you again. Like he was weighing his options. Work? Or feasting on his tease of a fiance’s wet pussy?

He set the device to the side before reaching underneath your dress to grab a handful of your butt.

“Hey!” You squealed with a giggle as he pulled you down onto his lap. “I thought you were working!” 

Chris kissed along your neck and shoulder, arms fastened around your waist like he was daring you to try and get up. “I would be if you weren’t being such a little tease.” After his interviews, script reading, and shit he’d have to make sure Dodger was good and normally would go work out while you distracted him while you did yoga. He realized if you two got married he’d have to learn how to keep you happy and satisfied within his hectic life anyway and this was just practice for him.

If that meant him having stop working in the middle of the day to dick you down so be it. He was doing his duties as your future husband. “I’m just singing a song,” you replied innocently.

“Mhm,” he hummed dismissively, parting your legs. “Maybe I want to fuck with some wet ass pussy.” His hand pushed up your dress to get to your already dripping core. He was so strong that you were pretty much just at his mercy, but part of the fun was pretending you didn’t want it as you tried to push his hands away. 

His other hand wrapped around your neck with just enough pressure. You gasped as his fingers found your clit. “Mmmm,” you moaned, withering against him. “Fuck, Daddy.”

“That’s my slutty girl,” he whispered in your ear. He bit your shoulder. It was bad, but he really liked marking you. Hickies, bite marks, bruises. Didn’t matter he liked seeing the evidence of what he did to you on your skin. He wanted people to know you belonged to him. Sometimes you’d try to cover it up with your makeup, but depending on the occasion he’d make you wipe it away. He loved when you’d protest in your cute little whiney voice even when you knew he wasn’t going to stop.

You moved your hips, grinding into him like you were giving him a lapdance. He groaned as you gyrated into his lap. It really was his fault for wearing grey sweatpants. You leaned back so you could kiss him. The new angle giving him more access so he could fuck your pussy with his fingers. 

Pussy juices leaking onto his hand as he made a come-hither motion inside of your cunt hitting your bundle of nerves. There was something about him talking down to you that he’d found that you loved even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it at first. He’d called you a slut jokingly six months into dating which led to you riding him as he called you his bitch and whore all night.

“You like prancing around in this little ass dress trying to tease me while I’m working,” he stopped fingering you for a minute so he could slap it. “Little fucking slut. Stand up.” He pushed you up onto your shaky legs, the fabric of your dress hitting your sensitive skin. He grabbed your hand so you’d turn to face him. he quickly rid himself of his sweats.

He made you straddle his lap now. He smacked your ass, once, twice, and then a third time. Now that you were both pants-less, his dick pressed against your ass as your pussy was against his stomach as you kissed with fervor. You reached behind yourself so you could take hold of him, running your hand up and down his heavy cock. 

Chris hissed into your mouth grabbing your hand to make you stop and then your hips on either side so he could force you to sink down on him. Your mouth dropped, lips forming an O as no sound came out. “Fuck,” he breathed, feeling that tight wet cunt finally wrapped around him. 

His dick always felt like it was too much in the angle. He was so thick that accommodating him almost felt like it was too much to handle. Like he was invading you. He always hit your spot right on, but it was even more intense when you were riding him. It felt like you couldn’t stop cumming. “I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“Already?” He chuckled. 

You nodded, tears prickling at your eyes. It felt too good. Too much. Sometimes he’d have to hold you down so you didn’t run away from his dick, but like this you had no choice. 

He started working you up and down. It didn’t matter what position you were always at his mercy and control. “Fuck me,” you begged “Please, Daddy.”  It felt like you could feel him in your fucking stomach. 

“You’re such a good little bitch taking all of Daddy’s dick.” He was so cocky because he knew how he effected you. He treated you like you were delicate until it came time to fuck you. He smacked your ass again.

“Yes, Daddy, I just wanna be good for you.” Your juices dripped down his thick length. “I’m your little slut.” You moaned into his ear before kissing along his neck like he’d done to you a moment ago. 

“No hickies, Baby,” he made sure to say.

All you did was giggle in response, keeping your mouth on him. Fucking troublemaker. As much as he wanted to fight you on it, he noted to himself that he’d just punish you afterwards if you left one. Your pussy felt too good for him to even try to stop.

He slammed you up and down on top of him, pounding you just the way you liked. “I’m fucking cumming,” you cried into his neck as the dam broke inside of you. Your pussy clamped down around him as you squirted around him. Not that it stopped his movements. “Oh my god, Daddy!”

“That’s my girl,” he hissed, not stopping as he pounded into you, searching for his own orgasm.

“Oh my god!” You squealed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Your lips were swollen from how he’d kissed you and for some reason watching them as your cute face showed how blissed out you were. It was bringing him closer and closer. “Want me to cum in your pretty pussy, Baby?” 

You nodded like you were desperate for him, biting your lip as he still moved you up and down. You grabbed a handful of his shirt wanting him to brace yourself as you hit another peak. The way your pussy walls tightened only helped to bring him over the edge painting your walls with his hot white seed.

The two of you still moved against each other until you were perfectly spent. He wanted to giving you every single drop, but also make sure you were well fucked until he had the time to do take you to bed to do it again. 

You collapsed against him, resting your head on his strong chest. Your chests heaved as he held you close kissing your forehead. It didn’t matter how rough he’d be during, he always made sure to be soft with you after.

His phone went off and the both of you groaned. “Fuck my interview.”

[laboflove]

Megumi x FR

•Megumi aged up•

Megumi X Cheerleader

❗Warnings❗{Smut, degradation, hard dom, dacryphilia, spanking, drinking}

A/N: Megumi thinks you're pretty much an airhead since you're a cheerleader so he tries to take advantage of that but ends up falling for you

Your body drops letting him see those tight safety shorts all the cheerleaders wore, it's like you were all made for slutty clothes. It was pretty hot but for some reason he never looked at the other girls, only at you. It was probably because you werent like the others, you were so naive, so innocent and such an airhead. It was fun teasing you, making fun of you for getting simple answers wrong and tugging at your skirt even though you hated it.

"Megumi" he looks up seeing your bright eyes and large smile, "Hey" he says with a nod as you sit down in front of him, "so whatre you doing here?" You ask while opening a bottle of water. "You left this at class" he shows you a white book covered in stickers making you blush beet red. "G-give it!" You rush to grab it but he pulls it back, wrapping his arm around your waist.

So close! Megumi was super good looking! One of the hottest guys at the campus in fact but this wasnt important. "Give it Megumi" you say but he doesnt, only holding you down with a smirk. "I was being nice but now I'm kinda curious" and worry fills your mind. "D-dont" you say but he opens it and looks through the pages.

"What's this?" He asks as he looks through the pages filled with notes and drawings of buildings with measurements, but arent you in arts? He notices you looking away, you gave up? That's weird, you never gave up. "Dont worry about it, its nothing" you say while taking the book back and grabbing your stuff. "See you later" you leave making him shocked, so personal things like that make you pissed? How fun.

"C'mon" his fingers graze against your thigh making you curl up, "Leave me alone" you whisper, your hand pressing against his chest. "Why? You're always flirting with Megumi so why cant I?", "I-I dont flirt with him" you mutter feeling your blood boil. You talked to Megumi yeah, but it was because he was always being a dick or when you needed help with assignments but that was it. "Hey" both of your heads turn and the guy is sent flying across the hall.

"M-megumi" he looks at you with a look hes never given before, worry, "Are you okay?" He asks in a softer voice too. Is he okay? "I'm fine" you whisper, fixing your bag and taking your sweater out of it to wrap around your waist. "What the fuck Megumi" he hears from on the ground, "I may be a douchebag but I'd never touch a girl if she didnt want it" he says then grabs your wrist, pulling you down the hallway. Uh oh.

"You're so fucking stupid" he says as he pushes you into an empty classroom, "So fucking naive and you cant even stick up for yourself" you look down at the floor but he tilts your face up, grabbing your cheeks hard to make you look into his eyes. "When something like that happens do anything to stop it, because if you dont, bad shit will happen and I'm not alw-" he stops but you both know the end of that sentence making you blush a soft pink.

"I'm sorry" you whisper and as your phone buzzes you pull away, "Thank you, if you're still here by six maybe I can take you to eat somewhere" you leave in a rush as he looks at his hand. Hes getting too close, way too close.

You dance to the blaring music, holding a plastic red cup in your hand filled with who knows what. He watches your body move, holding a bottle of beer and listening to Yuji ramble about girls and which ones hed like to sleep with but it was Yuji, he never got any girls unless Sukuna was taking over his body.

"But my first one would have to be Y/N, I mean just look at her, shes got an amazing body and I'd love to hear her scream my name" he clenches the bottle tight feeling his anger build up, almost overflowing but he calms himself down. "Eh, shes not that special, total airhead" he says then leaves to a different room, Yuji could do whatever he wanted, it didn't matter because he didnt like you that way and never would.

He watches as he walks up to you and suddenly hes walking towards you as well. Your eyes glance back slightly shocked as arms slowly wrap around you but your widened eyes soften. "Megumi" he smiles hearing his name come out of your mouth, "Hey Beautiful" and you blush, you've been told it often but the way he said it sounded so meaningful and honestly it was the first time you've ever liked being told it.

Time passes as you both dance and talk, giggles filling whatever silence there is and soon enough you and him are drunk, muttering things into each others ears, sitting on his lap, his hands holding your skirt down to make sure no one sees anything and your arms wrapped around his neck. "Why're you so pretty?" He whispers as he leans into your lips, barely touching them making you slightly mad. You wanted to kiss him but he wouldnt get close enough, wouldnt let you get close enough too and you could feel your need building up.

"You want to kiss me?" he whispers into your ear and you drunkenly nod with a small giggle. "So drunk arent you" you lean into his lips but he stops you, "Gimme a kiss" you mumble but he shakes his head.

"Sorry Princess but you're incredibly drunk and I cant just do that to you" he says, trying to make you feel better but all you do is grumble and whine. You were worked up, he had a massive boner and it got you horny too and all you wanted was to please him.

"Your place or mine?" He asks after some time of walking but finds you asleep, "I guess mine" he says then heads to his.

You nuzzle into his chest as his arms wrap around your body, "Megumi" he looks down but you're still asleep making him smile. You looked so peaceful but the shared smell of liquor was making it less comforting. Maybe he should wake you, it wouldnt be good to sleep like this. But then again you didnt have any clothes and you needed to sleep.

You turn around and his slightly intoxicated self heightens the feeling of you pressed right up against him. He whispers your name into your ear, making your eyes open slightly, "Hm" you hum out, you start sobering up and he whispers something into your ear making you turn red.

"P-pervert" he chuckles as his hand rub your side, you were soft but goosebumps were forming which was cute. So shy and so innocent now that you're sobering up. His eyes close again feeling sleep take over him but your grinding against his crotch keeps him from it. "Stop it" he says but you dont, "Play with me" you mumble and as his hand runs up your body you expect him to tilt your face to kiss you but instead his hand wraps around your neck, grabbing it with a bit of force eliciting a gasp from you.

"Take your clothes off, say Red to stop" he mutters in a lower tone and you nod fast, he sounded irritated and you didnt want to make him angry. Once your clothes are off you look back, turning red, seeing him naked as well with only his hipbone and down covered. He smirks seeing your eyes take in the sight, you knew he worked out but you didnt know he was this strong.

"Want a kiss now?" You nod fast as your eyes shine and he smiles, "Take it then" you rush to kiss him making him chuckle at your eagerness, he pulls you onto his lap, looking up at you slightly as his hands rest on your backside, grinding you against him slowly. Tiny, soft moans escape your mouth feeling his hardness rub between your folds, "Megumi" you whine out into his neck.

"I have con-", "No, want you" his mouth goes dry and he lifts you slightly, "You want me?" He asks earning fast nods. "Like this?" A gasp fills the room as he pushes in a single finger, "N-no, want you" he chuckles against your neck thinking of endless ways to tease you but the main thing he wants is for you to beg so, he doesnt remove his finger, he pushes it in and out slowly, not doing anything only making you angry.

"Please" he leans into your ear and bites it slightly, "What do you want?" You shake your head earning a spank. "Tell me" he says but you shake your head again earning another one making you hiss and whine. "Please Megu- ah!" You cover your mouth as he delivers another spank but it's harder this time.

The process goes on, him asking to barely receive an answer and none are what he wants, he sighs then pulls your hair back as you softly cry, "One last chance" he growls out slightly, "Y-your cock, please" he pulls you down onto him making you whine and sob into his neck.

"Such a naughty girl arent you?" He asks as he guides you on him, you felt like actual Heaven, your insides were nice and tight, warm and you were sucking him in so nicely. You nod as tears fall down your face making him twitch, "Fuck me, you're so perfect" he growls into your ear, insults coming after of him telling you how needy you were, that you were just a hole to him, a cumdump, something to use making more tears fall down your face but you loved it, something about being put down like this made it feel so good.

You move your hips to his movements feeling yourself about to break and as it's about to crash he keeps you still. "Try to come without me again and I wont be very nice", "Sorry" you whisper, leaning into him more, feeling soft, mushy and needy.

You both go again and the insults slowly turn into compliments, he moans as you clench around him and you whimper, "Come" he says and your body shakes, immediately at his demand. He thrusts up into you hard making you sob out into the room, "Shh Baby, I've got you" he whispers, hands rubbing your back, pulling you as close as possible and leaving soft kisses on your head.

"So perfect for me, such a good girl. Everything I said isnt true, okay?" You nod with soft cries and he kisses you softly, too rough for the first time and definitely not the right time but you were both definitely sober by now. "I love you" he suddenly says making you stop crying, "I love you too" and he stands. He always said hed never date, especially with someone like you but here he is, confessing his love for you and needing you more than ever.

[ambiguousdisorderken]

in your expert opinion what are some of the most destiel-heavy episodes of spn? i stopped watching around season 7 and have no interest in engaging w the plot of the show at all but i’m in the mood for some gay yearning ykwim

Hi anon! Thank you for reaching out to me about this, I’m, no-joke, very flattered. I’d seen a couple posts on this same question, very thorough and detailed lists on Destiel-centric episodes, but at the moment I cannot find any of them, that would’ve answered your request much faster. So, in advance, sorry, my reply is probably coming in extremely late, but I did write this from scratch, so yeah.

Even though storylines in SPN can be very shitty and hollow, I do feel that to get the full Destiel experience -that long-drawn yearning- one would have to watch the entirety of the show, even if Cas isn’t in the episode or if there’s no explicit mention of their relationship/bond because it gives you a better understanding of them as characters and of how their relationship affects the narrative.

Now, you mentioned you stopped around S7, which is completely understandable and justified given the Dick plot game was very weak and, in my opinion, annoying (so little Cas!). I’m going to start listing from S7 in case you want to refresh your SPN before jumping straight into unseen episodes. Also, since you mentioned no interest in the plot and are specifically craving those sweet crumbs of gay yearning, I’ll skip most one-sided / too subtle episodes and cut to the chase.

Lastly, I hate spoiling things, but you’ve probably seen it all on Tumblr. I tried to keep the episodes’ descriptions short, as it might come in useful. Stuck to key words, quotes and/or little comments.

 Season 7

7x01 – Meet the New Boss: Godstiel, sincere apology. Cas: “I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you.”

7x02 – Hello, Cruel World: Mourning. Trench coat melancholy. The heart-wrenching eulogy: “Dumb son of a bitch.”

7x17 – The Born-Again Identity: Emmanuel!Cas, reunion, longing, hurt.

7x21 – Reading is Fundamental: Honey!Cas, hug, hurt, reunion, that painful SORRY (board game) scene.

7x23 – Survival of the Fittest: Honey!Cas, forgiveness, adorable, wified Cas. Dean hits us with: “Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas!" but also “I'd rather have you, cursed or not.”

Season 8 (this season is so good and Destiel is the driving motor of it, I swear. If you can, watch it complete.)

8x01 – We Need to Talk About Kevin: Dean in Purgatory looking for the angel.  Cas is referred to as “your [Dean’s] angel.”

8x02 – What’s Up, Tiger Mommy?: HUG!!!, Purgatory reunion, face touch, very romantic. Monster: “ You'll find your angel there.” //  Dean: “Let me bottom-line it for you. I'm not leaving here without you.”

8x05 – Blood Brother: Cas vs. Benny cat fight lol. Dean: “Cas... we're gonna shove your ass back through the eye of that needle if it kills all three of us.”

8x07 – A Little Slice of Kevin: Cas comes back from Purgatory, but before that Dean starts seeing him in places. Very tragic; hallucinating your dead significant other trope. Has That boner scene. Dean: “I did everything I could to get you out! EVERYTHING!” Cas helps Dean see what truly happened in Purgatory and not his self-altered memories. PACKED!

8x08 – Hunteri Heroici: Hilarious, romantic, intimate. Dean and Cas have an heart to heart. They actually communicate. Cas “I’ll watch over you.”

8x10 Torn and Frayed: They work a case together, and when I say heart eyes…

8x17 – Goodbye Stranger: THIS. EPISODE. Dean “I need you.”

8x19 – Taxi Driver: Separation. Naomi to Dean: "You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty; I only wish he felt the same way."

8x22 – Clip Show: Lack of trust, hurt, tense interactions. Romantic too (basically, Cas gets Dean an apology basket).

8x23 – Sacrifice: Meaningful conversation and a gay couple hit by Cupid parallel. Dean “So this is it? E.T goes home?"

 Season 9

9x01 – I think I’m Gonna Like it Here: Dean prays to Cas IN.A.CHAPEL. Worry, longing, separation. Dean “Please, man, I need you here.”

9x03 – I’m No Angel: Human!Cas and jealous!Dean.

9x06 – Heaven Can’t Wait: Human!Cas TEXT-BOOK LONGING. GAY AS FUCK. Gazing, touching, they even TALK (for real).

9x09 – Holy Terror: Adorable Cas, flirty vibes, happyish, funny. Cas: “Cas is back in town!”

9x10 – Road Trip: Cas comforts Dean, Cas and Crowley bitching at each other, overall protective!Cas.

9x18 – Metafiction. Cas finds out about the Mark of Cain.

9x21 – King of the Damned: Hug, strong boyfriends vibes.

9x22 – Stairway to Heaven: Cas gives up an entire army, for Dean. Metatron about Cas “He's in love………………………. with humanity.”

9x23  – Do You Believe in Miracles?: At this point, it’s canon stated that Cas will do anything and lose everything if that means saving Dean. Metatron to Cas “You draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

 Season 10

10x01 – Black: Demon!Dean and sick/brokenhearted Cas in a slutty robe missing his man.

10x03 – Soul Survivor: ICONIC. Angel on Demon action! Cas turns down Hannah because he’s too gay and in love. Intimate Deancas talk.

10x05 – Fan Fiction: No Cas, but Destiel references. 

10x09 – The Things We Left Behind: That.Lunch.Date. Deancas introduction to co-parenting.

10x14 – The Executioner’s Song: We get Daddy Murder aka Cain. This is a Pivotal episode to understand Dean’s character development. Plus, it has Deancas interactions.

10x16 – Paint It Black: No Cas, but Dean opens up in confessionary; repressed BISEXUAL AS FUCK.

10x18 – Book of the Damned: Charlie meets Cas. Gay energies everywhere. Cute domestic little scene.

10x20 – Angel Heart: PARENTING! Essential to understand Cas from this point forward.

10x22 – The Prisoner: Just… just watch it. One of THEE Destiel episodes.

10x23 – Brother’s Keeper: No Deancas interactions but it’s the finale, and I recommend watching it because next season takes off literally right from here. No time jumps.

 Season 11

11x02 – Form and Void: Could skip to the very end which is when Cas comes back.

11x03 – The Bad Seed: Cursed!Cas. Dean takes care of him, even wraps him in a blanket. He also cradles his face. Extreme Hurt/Comfort. Jacting joices rejoice.

11x10 – The Devil in the Details: Could skip but has Casifer in it. Interesting to see his dynamic with Dean.

11x18 – Hell’s Angel: Casifer. Dean "It? It's not an it, Sam, it's Cas!"

11x23 – Alpha and Omega: Huggg! Cas willing to go on a guaranteed suicide mission with Dean. Very tender and sad.

 Season 12

12x02 – Keep Calm and Carry On: ANOTHER HUG! Dean presents his boyfriend to his mom<3 Soft and romantic.

12x09 – First Blood: Reunion hug<3, Cas pining… as in he counts his every minute without Dean.

12x10 – Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets: Direct parallel with canon couple. Crystal-clear mutual affection. One of the best. Angel Ishim to Cas about Dean “I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna cure you of your human weakness same way I cured my own… by cutting it out.”

12x12 – Stuck in the Middle with You: A dying Cas confesses his love. “I love you. I love all of you.”

12x19 – The Future: We find out Dean gave Cas a MIXTAPE!!! Very romantic and full of yearning, also worry and what could be seen as a betrayal (ish…).

12x23 – All Along the Watch Tower: Hands down, one of the most distressing Destiel episodes. Cas dies.

 Season 13

13x01 – Lost and Found: This is the worst because you have Dean trying to assimilate Cas’ death. Core of Dean’s widow’s arc. Jack introduction, that’s their new kid.

13x02 – The Rising Son: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?).

13x03 – Patience: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?). Dean to Sam “He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!”

13x04 – The Big Empty: Continuation of widow’s arc and Cas wakes up in the Empty. The Empty to Cas: "I know who you love. There's nothing for you back there." // Dean to Sam “I need you to keep the faith, for both of us. ‘Cause right now, I… Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing.”

13x05 – Advanced Thanatology: Suicidal and hopeless Dean gets his win. Cas comes back. Gives me the chills.

13x06 – Tombstone: COWBOY BOYFRIENDS!

13x14 – Good Intentions: Happy and fun Destiel scene. So Very Married.

13x23 – Let The Good Times Roll: Season finale, Dean talks about retiring (plans include Cas of course) and just very nice to see them interact.

Season 14

14x03 – The Scar: Reunion.

14x08 – Byzantium: Deanand Cas dealing with their child’s death, then bringing him back by Cas making a deal with the Empty. IMPORTANT EPISODE.

14x09 – The Spear: Cas uses the royal We – married behavior.

14x10 – Nihilism: Dean is stuck in his own mind, and Cas and Sam try to bring him back. Cas “Please, you have to -- you have to try to remember, because the people in your life -- in your real life, out there -- we need you to come back.”

14x12 – Prophet and Loss: Dean gets his very own Dr. Sexy, aka Dr. Cas.

14x14 – Ouroboros: Basically another date (their kid tags along) and They TALK. Very intimate and established marriage vibes.

14x18 – Absence: Shits starts to go south. [ Dean: “Who cares what Jack said? We don't know what happened! But I swear, if he did something to her, if she is -- (points to Castiel) Then you're dead to me. (Castiel looks crushed after Dean says that).]

14x20 – Moriah: Tense and very upsetting. Relationship very damaged.

 Season 15 (I would advise watching the entire season because it relies heavily on Destiel. They’re the heart and the emotional motor leading the plot onwards.)

15x01 – Back and To The Future: Deancas’ in the aftermath of their kid’s death. Tension gets worse.

15x02 – Raising Hell: Tension rises, this is very intense. Cas “Dean. You asked, "What about all of this is real?" We are.”

15x03 – The Rupture: Breaking point ends in divorce.

15x06 – Golden Time: Painful phone call which speaks volumes about the current state of their relationship at the time. Also, good to see where they’re standing and how they’re coping.

15x08 – Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven: Strained relationship so obvious they’re offered couples’ therapy.

15x09 – The Trap: MASTERPIECE. Back to Purgatory. Can (and is) taken as Dean’s love confession (because it is). 

15x12 – Galaxy Brain: So married. Little domestic date, you can see LOVE written in their faces.

15x13 – Destiny’s Child: AU!Dean and Sam. Not a yearning episode per se, but AU!Dean? SO GAY.

15x17 – Unity: God reveals that the only act of free will in any universe he ever created has been Cas choosing Dean.

15x18 – Despair: Cas confesses his love to Dean.

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 6

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 6

Chapter Summary: More of a filler chapter, not much Henry, I’m sorry.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, pregnancy, poor self image, bad coping mechanisms, low self esteem.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5}

"I already told you, Faye! I don't want anything to do with this!"

"So because I want to keep my babies, you're leaving me? Is that what you're trying to tell me, David?"

"Yes! Shit, I knew you were dumb, but seriously!"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf too, whore? How do you even know I'm the one that knocked you up? You've slept with just about every guy in town!"

"Get the fuck out."

"Don't come crying to me later! You're nothing without me! No one is ever going to want you. Especially once you have kids. Who the hell wants used goods? Have fun living a life of regret!"

Faye jerked awake, her head spinning as she tried to catch her bearings. Did David really leave her just like that? Sure he wasn't the greatest, but he had never lashed out like that before. At least not where anyone else could witness it.

No. David's gone. He has been gone for almost four years now. New life. Starting over. It's all in the past now.

Have to get the baby up before the sitter comes. Work is coming up soon. Life goes on.

"Briar, what are you doing on the floor?" Faye chuckled, crouching down next to her daughter, curled up on her pillow by her bed.

"I'm a puppy." Briar yawned in explanation, holding her arms up to be lifted, promptly licking her mother's cheek as soon as she was up.

"Briar, we talked about licking people."

"I'm not Briar, I'm puppy."

"Ok then, puppy, no licking people. Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"Puppy food."

"Cereal it is."

Feed the toddler, quick shower, get dressed, throw her hair up away from her face, wait for the baby sitter, hugs and kisses goodbye, then off to work. The usual routine she had settled herself into.

Feed the baby, because she's hungry and she comes first.

Shower, because she probably has some sort of mystery goo on her from the toddler.

Get dressed, avoid the mirror.  No one wants to be reminded of how much they've changed. The softness she wasn't used to around her lower stomach, hips and thighs. Her breasts no longer as perky as they used to be. The stretchmarks competing with her tattoo's for attention.

Then, the hardest part of the day. "Ok, Briar, Mrs. Anderson is here. Mommy has to go to work. I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy." Briar responded, hugging her mother tight and kissing her cheek before she was sat back down.

"Have a nice day, Miss Warren."

"I hope she's not too much to handle."

"Never is."

Some days, Faye likes to pretend she's ok. Like she has a handle on things. Like she knows what she's doing and not just blindly stumbling through her life while trying to do right by her daughter.

Other days, she would absently push her sleeves up and her eye would catch on the black lines decorating her forearm, just below her elbow. Some days she's reminded that life is a bitch, and you can't always get what you want. On those days she tried to stay out of her own head, though that rarely worked.

She could slap on a smile with the best of them, but she could never force it to reach her eyes. Her face always remained an open book, free for anyone to read. The past creeps up on you. There's nothing you can do to stop it some days. On a bad day, the ghosts of the past will haunt your mind, echoing the worst days of your life into the void of your shattered heart.

"No one is ever going to want you!"

"You're nothing without me!"

"Who wants used goods?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Warren. There was nothing we could do."

Over and over on a seemingly never ending loop, reminding her of the darkest times in her life.

Why would anyone want her? She's not the same hot twenty six year old she used to be. She was soft. She was saggy. She would never be as attractive as she used to be. Anyone in their right mind would turn around and run once they realized how much she had let herself go.

Days like today were best spent keeping people at a distance. Tell them some story about being tired. Avoid anyone that is going to call her out on her obvious lie. Therein lies the problem with dying your hair obnoxious colors. Among a sea of blonde and brunette, powder blue tends to stick out and make it almost impossible to vanish.

Lie your way out of it. Survive another day. Tomorrow might not be better, but at least it won't be the same.

"Mommy, you're back!" The sweetest sound she could hear all day.

"I always come back, my little love." Faye assured, kissing her daughter's head.

Need to care for the baby. She comes first. She deserves the world. Play time. Dinner time. Bath time. Story time. Bed time. The same after work routine she had established months ago when she decided to drop everything and run.

Her daughter thought the world of her. She would do anything to see her smile. She would wear the stupid costume. She would pretend to be a horsey. She would let her daughter use her as a jungle gym. She would make the same dinner again for the third night in a row for her.  So what if she soaked the bathroom floor during bath time? She was a mermaid, and she wanted to show off her tail. Story time, always an adventure with her imaginative little girl. What world would they find themselves in today? Dinosaurs? Princesses? Mythology? A rhyming book?

Ah, yes of course. Her current favorite, the book about the dinosaur cleaning his room. She was a girl obsessed with dinosaurs at the moment.

"Mommy, where's my Papa?" Briar asked, staring intently down at the page depicting a mother and father watching the dinosaur throw away paper scraps.

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart. He wasn't a nice man." Faye explained, resting her cheek on her daughter's head.

"Can I have a new Papa?"

"Maybe someday, sweetheart."

"Can Spider-man be my new Papa?"

"Why do you want Spider-man to be your new Papa?"

"He's my boyfriend!"

"That's not how it works, silly. If he's your boyfriend, he can't also be by boyfriend! Pick another hero!"

"Batman!"

"Well, he is rich." Faye mused, Briar giggling happily. "Now it's time for bed, my love."

"Ok, Mommy. I love you!"

"I love you too, Briar." Faye whispered, kissing her forehead. The nightlight was switched on and the door was left cracked open, just in case. Now for her seldom used free time.

Should she sketch some more? Finish that painting she started forever ago? Ever since she started a "real" job, her art had fallen by the wayside. She was too drained to do much after work and caring of her daughter.

Maybe some drawing will lift her spirits and keep the nightmares at bay tonight. But what to draw? Not in the mood for still life. Brain too fried for something straight from her imagination. Her usual model was sleeping, and her last few self portraits had been a serious blow to her ego. She just drew what she saw in the mirror. Then, when she was finished, she decided she should have worn more clothing before she drew herself. What was supposed to boost her confidence and empower her as a woman instead left her wondering when exactly she developed that roll when sitting in that position.

"Fuck it. I'm drawing a moose." Faye grumbled to herself, turning the page from her self portrait to a blank sheet. Half an hour later when she was trying to remember what a moose's antlers looked like, she finally picked up her phone. Seven unread messages? That seems like a lot. When was the last time she looked at her phone? Oh yeah, when she got home, five hours ago.

All from one person. So she wasn't ignoring everyone at least. Seven messages, all from Henry. Shit. That's not good.

Are you ok?

You seemed off on set today

You didn't even talk to me

Did you at least make it home alright?

Can you send me a sign of life?

I'm sorry if I upset you or something. Can you please talk to me? I'm genuinely worried.

Please?

Well, fuck. Here she was playing unicorn apocalypse with her daughter, and this poor guy was worrying himself to death.

Sorry, I was drawing a moose

Perfect way of saying "I wasn't ignoring you" while also avoiding his persistent questions about her wellbeing. The good old 'drawing a moose' excuse. Works every time.

I think your moose aged me by ten years. Are you ok?

Just had a bad day

Anything I can do to help?

Squeeze me until I stop struggling and my spine snaps

That's called 'murder' Miss Warren

I knew there was a name for it

Is there anything I can do for you that involves less prison?

Nah, if you're not going to take me out, then I'm not interested

I'm not going to take you out by murder. I will take you out on a date.

Faye froze, staring at her phone. He was just playing around, like he always did. No way he was serious. Henry liked to flirt, and she wasn't about to throw herself at him over a joke. She had more dignity than that. So how does she respond? She can't just ignore him, and taking forever to respond is going to give the impression that she was freaking out over what he said.

She was completely freaking out over what he had said, but he didn't need to know that. Was he just looking to get laid or something? Probably. He had gotten pretty close the last time he had been over. There's a difference between dating and screwing, though. He was probably just looking for someone to fuck while waiting for a woman worth his time to come along. Faye was broken out of her thoughts by her phone going off again, alerting her to a new message. Didn't he know she was busy having an existential crisis?

If you're free on Sunday you can come over and show me that moose your working on

*you're

Smart ass

Sunday?

I'll have to see if Mrs. Anderson can watch Briar

Bring her along. She keeps asking me about Kal

Pretty on brand for her

Sunday?

Sunday.

Sunday. What to wear on Sunday? He was probably looking for a little something something for his time, so something slutty? She got rid of all her slutty clothes after she had Briar in a fit of self hatred toward her new mom bod, so that was out. Besides, he wouldn't have invited Briar over too if he was looking to get laid.

So what does one wear on a casual 'date' these days? She had until Sunday to figure that out.

Tag List:  @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny

[renee-writer]

Without Remorse Chapter 5 First Real Date

AO3

“If I wear something slutty then it will look like I am expecting more.” She talks to Mary through video call as she goes over her outfit choices.

“First, showing a bit of cleavage is not slutty. Second, aren’t you, after what happened after your first date?”

“We are trying to get to know each other. Not just…” She pulls more clothes out of the closet, given Mary her back. Beet red, she doesn’t want to face her yet. Her thoughts have been on nothing else outside Jamie and how he makes her feel since they have parted. The urge to go knock on his door and finish what they started was barely kept back by common sense.

“Right. But I don’t think it matters what you wear, not with an attraction that strong.”

She is right. Even if she wears a long sleeve, high neck dress that goes down to the floor, if she owned such a dress, they would still be wanting each other. She picks up a pair of jeans and a button down shirt. Casual but dressy. Mary approves. “Hair up or down?”

Jamie doesn’t call Frank for advice on what to wear. After he announcement, his mate had gone silent before shouting, “The hell you say!”

“I mean it. You think me crazy, don’t you?”

“I do. Jamie I know that you believe in soul mates. That your dad said you would know her when you saw her, but..”

“But, that is all true. She is it.”

“Bugger that! If you had just got laid before now, you wouldn’t be confusing lust for love.” Frank is a few years older then him. He, Frank and, Ian had all been on the same footballer team in primary school. They grew up together and he was both a good mate and like a big brother to him. So, he takes his comment in that spirit.

“I’m not. You will see.”

Now, he slips his favorite blue button down shirt on. He had been told that blue brings out his eyes. He sooths his curls back with gel to try to keep them tamed, a spot on cologne before picking up the flowers he has for her, and he is ready.

He knocks at 5:59. She takes a breath and answers. They stare at each other for a minute. “Hello Claire,” he clears his tight throat. She is the most beautiful lass he has ever seen. “Ah, this are for you.” He holds out the bouquet.

“They are lovely Jamie. You didn’t have to.” She takes them and holds them up to her face, breathing them in taking his breath in the process. “I will just put them in some water. Would you like to come in?” He meets her eyes and that connection pulls on them both again.

“Depends,” His lips feel numb and his fingertips tingle. “on how hungry you are because I don’t think we would make it to dinner.” He tells her bluntly. She feels a kind of faintness, a feeling of almost disassociation. They both start breathing heavy and she matches her breaths to his. Not consciously but…

“I… we… ah…right, are to be getting to know each other. I will be right back.” She backs up into the small living room before turning and hurrying into the kitchen. Jamie stands still, breathing slowly in and out. Has he scared her? Well, she didn’t close and lock the door so that is a good sign. She returns a minute later. “Shall we?”

“I didn’t scare you? Sorry to have been so..”

“Honest? It is really okay. I feel it too, you know. Having spent the last twenty-four hours debating whether to go to your door, invite myself in and, finish what we started, I’ve no room to judge.” They are in the lift headed down. He swallows hard and stops it.

“I need to kiss you. May I?” He asks. She moves up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I need to kiss you too.” They both groan before coming together. It is gentle, a feathering of lips instead of a rough taking. Her hands caress his neck and hair, his rub circles over her back. She breaths in the smell of his cologne, he the scent of honey that is part of her shampoo. They taste each other’s toothpaste. He moves away slowly, leaving the touch of his lips across her face and the upper part of her neck. Her head falls back, granting him more access and he recalls where they are.

He moves his lips away and takes her hand before restarting the lift. “Later, if you wish.”

“You can count on it.”

He sits across from her, idly playing with her free hand as they talk between bites. “So, your uncle took you to Australia when you were thirteen.”

“He did. A way to celebrate me leaving childhood. My mum worried. More about me having such a long flight then the month I would spend with Uncle Lamb. She trusted him.”

“Lamb, that is a strange name, even for a Sassanach.” She smacks him for the slur. “No offense. It is just a nickname I have in my head for you.”

She looks at him with narrowed eyes before she breaks and smiles. It is near impossible to stay mad at him. “It stands for Lambert. Quinton Lambert Beauchamp, my dad’s brother. His digs took him everywhere and, over the summer, He would take me.”

“Starting when?” His hand continues to work over hers and he is rapidly loosing interest in the food. He is famished for her.

“Five. It was just to France. He didn’t start taken me out of Europe until a few years later. What about you? Any trips abroad?”

They are to be getting to know each other, he firmly reminds himself. “ Depends on your definition of abroad. I went to Ireland at sixteen with a group of mates. To France with my parents and sister when I was twelve. But of the European continent, no.”

“Well, we will have to fix that.”

“As long as it is ‘we’, you can take me anywhere.” He lifts up the hand he had been playing with and brings it to his mouth, kissing her fingertips. She sways a bit, grabbing on to the table with her free hand to keep from falling.

“Tell me about your sister.” She says her eyes bright and her breath coming faster. Her nipples are rock hard against her bra and she feels full and wet down below.

“My sister?” Right, she is trying to keep them on task. “Janet Arabella Fraser is called Jenny. She is almost three years older then me and has always been the mature one. Responsible. She mother’s me worse then mam. Is stubborn as the day is long. A tiny thing with dark hair like our dad, she is my complete opposite except for our eyes. They are the same. She is smart, self confident, and brutally honest. I love her very much.”

“I would love to meet her,” she blurts out. “I mean if that…”

“Shhh Sassanach. It is alright. You will.” He smiles reassuringly at her. “This between us is real. I have a rule to always be honest. There is room for secrets but no lies in every relationship. Do you agree?”

“Absolutely.”

“Real and true. I know it is early, that we have only known each other two days, but, I can say that with confidence.”

“I agree. Thank goodness Jamie. I thought myself going insane.” She lets out a deep breath. “That the intensity of this was…”

“Was to much. That you were going to drown under it?”

“Good way to put it.”

“We will pull each other up. Together. No matter what.”

“Agree. I don’t want any more food. That isn’t what I am hungry for.”

He looks deep in her eyes, nods, calls the waitress over, pays the cheque and, has her hand, leading her out, all in the space of a few minutes.

They don't look back.

[pluckyredhead]

Fic: Never Set Me Free

It’s Jason Todd’s birthday! Here is me being self-indulgent about his issues and also Roy’s issues and how those issues somehow magically fit together perfectly:

-

Roy leaned carefully against the door handle, pushing it down with his hip until it clicked loose. There was an art to easing the bedroom door open while holding two full mugs of coffee, but Roy had mastered it ages ago.

It was barely dark in their bedroom this late in the morning. Jason was a tangled lump in the exact middle of the bed, the sheets completely stolen the second Roy had gotten up. Once a thief, always a thief, Roy thought with a fond smile.

He put Jason’s coffee down on the nightstand on the far side of the bed and the other mug down on his own nightstand, then sat on the mattress and bent down. “Jaybird,” he sang softly in Jason’s ear. “Rise and shine, little birdie.”

Jason groaned into the pillow. “Kill you,” he mumbled.

Roy laughed. “No you won’t. I brought you coffee.”

Jason sighed, then rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. His cheek was red from being pressed up against the pillow and his hair looked like it had been styled by tornado. Roy would have fallen in love with him right then and there if he hadn’t already done so years ago. “You’re the worst.”

Roy brushed a haphazard curl out of Jason’s eyes. “I think my favorite thing about you is what a morning person you are.”

“Ugh.” But Jason hooked two fingers into the collar of Roy’s shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. His breath was a little sour but Roy didn’t care. “Lian get onto the school bus okay?”

“Yeah, she says hi, and that she wants you to meet her at the bus stop this afternoon and not me.” Roy lay down and Jason rolled onto his side to face him. They played every day by ear, depending on who was out working late and who was home with Lian; Jason hadn’t made it home until nearly three last night, so Roy had let him sleep and dealt with the chaos of getting Lian and her backpack and her lunchbox and her seventy-three permission slips onto the school bus by himself.

“Oh ho ho, who’s the favorite now?” Jason asked.

“One hundred percent you and we both know it.” Roy couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed by it. Jason, for all his skittish I don’t know anything about kids when they’d gotten together, was wonderful with Lian, and she adored him. Letting Jason be the Cool Dad was a price Roy would gladly pay for somehow stumbling into a magnitude of happiness he was still pretty sure he didn’t deserve.

Jason’s smile was smug and Roy couldn’t resist kissing him again, a little longer, a little deeper, before letting him go with a sigh. “I should get up.”

“What do you have going on today?” Jason asked, sitting up enough to pick up his coffee.

“I need to go through those phone records we tapped the other night, see if I can figure out where those city council funds are being siphoned off to,” Roy said. “And Donna’s in town so I’m meeting her for lunch. You?”

“Oh, this and that.” Jason put his mug back down and leaned in to kiss Roy. “Thought I’d start with this.”

Roy met him halfway, let Jason put him on his back and climb half on top of him. There was plenty of time before he had to start getting ready for lunch for them to fool around - and the truth was, he would have let Jason have his way even if he had been pressed for time. All these years and he still had absolutely zero resistance to Jason’s touch.

Not that he was complaining.

Jason kissed his way over Roy’s jaw to mouth at his throat until he hit the spot that always made Roy’s toes curl. Roy let out a low gasp and felt Jason smile before he started sucking what was sure to be a livid bruise against Roy’s pale skin.

“Ugh, baby, that’s gonna show,” Roy said, trying to gently push Jason’s head lower with a hand in his hair.

“Deal with it,” Jason mumbled against his skin, and kept going.

“Jason, stop!” Roy said, laughing. “Donna already knows we’re dating, you don’t have to brand me like a prize bull.”

Jason went tense and still on top of him. Roy frowned and craned his neck to try to see his face. “Jay…?”

“I’m not...I wasn’t…” Jason said, looking down.

Roy tilted his chin up with a finger and was surprised to see Jason looking embarrassed. “Wait, did you think I couldn’t tell?” he asked, smiling. “Every time I’m going to see one of my exes, you give me a hickey somewhere they can see. Or lend me your jacket. I mean, Christ, the last time we met up with Jade so Lian could see her, you had your hand in my back pocket pretty much the entire time. She knows my ass is yours, Jay, it’s kind of overkill.”

He kept his tone playful to lighten the suddenly awkward mood, but Jason still looked mortified and almost...guilty? His eyes kept darting back and forth but never meeting Roy’s.

“I didn’t mean to...sorry,” he said, shifting away.

“It’s okay,” Roy said, frowning. He could read Jason pretty well after all this time, but he hadn’t expected this reaction. “If it had bothered me, I would have said something. I know you get jealous, Jason, it’s not a problem for me.”

“I’m not - !” Jason started, then clamped his mouth shut.

“Jay - ”

“Sorry. I’ll stop. I didn’t mean to make it weird.” Jason pulled all the way off him, like he was going to climb out of bed. “Sorry.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake - ” Roy grabbed Jason and pinned him to the bed, straddling his hips to pin him down. Jason didn’t put up a fight, but he didn’t look thrilled about it, either. “Stop apologizing. I fucking love it.”

That got Jason to meet his eyes for the first time. “What?”

“I know, okay?” Roy said. “I’ve always known. You’re not subtle, Jaybird. Even before we got together, you were territorial - and it’s not just with my exes, because I never dated Dick and you get all squirrelly when I’m around him, too. Sometimes I think I should just get a ‘Property of Jason Todd’ tattoo and save us all some time.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Jason said, looking away. His expression was miserable.

“I don’t think you do.” Roy leaned down, hands on either side of Jason’s head. “I. Love. It. I love wearing your jacket out. I love when you put your hand on my ass in public like you were raised in a barn. I love that little move where you find an excuse to whisper in my ear and you put your hand right here - ” he rested his hand low on Jason’s hip “ - when you do it.” He reached up with that same hand and brushed a curl off of Jason’s forehead. “You want everyone to know I belong to you. Baby, so do I.”

The furrow in Jason’s brow got a little less pronounced. Good. He was listening. “It’s not that I think that you’d...I trust you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.” Roy would never forget it. Jason’s trust was a fragile, precious thing, and Roy would always be grateful for the miracle of having earned it.

“I just…” Jason’s teeth worried at his lower lip. “You’ve been with a lot of people.”

“Can’t believe you’re calling me slutty while I’m trying to have a serious conversation here,” Roy said, but he huffed so dramatically he knew Jason would know he was kidding, even as inside his own head as he was right now.

“Shut up,” Jason said, pinching his side lightly and making Roy laugh. “I mean, everyone wants you.”

“Okay, first of all, that is extremely not true, but feel free to say it as often as you want,” Roy said. “And second…” Now it was his turn to break eye contact. “Plenty of people have wanted me, sure. But no one…”

He hesitated, looking away. Jason waited.

“No one else ever wanted me enough to bother being jealous over me,” Roy said finally, trying to keep his tone light.

Jason reached up, turned Roy back to face him, and though his cheeks were still pink, he didn’t look embarrassed or guilty anymore. There was also no judgment on his face, which Roy had been half-afraid to see even though he knew, intellectually, he never would. It was why they worked.

“Come here,” Jason murmured, and pulled him down for a kiss before wrapping his arms around Roy’s ribcage and holding him close. Roy sprawled out on top of him, his cheek tucked against Jason’s shoulder.

“You’re not the only one who gets insecure,” he mumbled into Jason’s collarbone. “But I’m not the Robin mantle, or being the favorite son, or...whatever. You don’t have to be the bigger person about sharing me. I don’t want you to.” He shifted so he could look up at Jason. “I’m yours. I love being yours.”

And the look on Jason’s face, the soft one that only Roy got to see...well, it made saying the hard, vulnerable things totally worth it.

Jason leaned in to kiss him, gently at first and then more urgently, rolling them over until he was pinning Roy down again. “You’re mine,” he said, pulling back, his eyes intent on Roy’s.

Roy shivered. “Yes.”

“I’m never letting you go.”

“Good.”

“I will absolutely fight Donna for you.”

“Please do not do that, she has super strength and I like you in one piece,” Roy said, grinning. “Also I’m pretty sure she has no interest in fighting you for me.”

“Then she’s a lot dumber than I thought she was.”

“First of all, don’t be rude about my friend, and second of all, it doesn’t matter,” Roy said, pulling him down for another kiss. “You already won.”

He recognized the heat in Jason’s eyes, and the hungry way Jason’s mouth captured his, and had to pull away for a second, laughing. “Leave as many hickeys as you want,” he said, “but if I’m walking funny when I get to lunch, Donna will make fun of me.”

Jason nipped at his jaw, his hands moving purposefully downwards. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Roy slung an arm around his neck and arched into his touch. “Save it for when I come home to you, Jaybird.”

Jason sighed, long-suffering. “Oh, fine,” he said. “But then what am I supposed to do with you now?”

And as Roy pulled him down for another kiss, he knew he was going to end up being late for lunch. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”