#I found this WAY at the bottom of my drafts

[muffywritez]

↣ pairing: Red Hood x OC

↣ genre: enemies-with-benefits, smut

↣ rating: +18

↣ word count: 2.8k

↣ chapter warnings & tags: explicit sexual content; rough sex; desk sex; established relationship; hair-pulling; biting; light power play; unspoken history

↣ Requests open!

 

↳ red hood breaks into her office to “talk.” she gives him a cigarette. they do not talk.

The Gotham skyline sprawled before her like a fever dream rendered in oil and smoke. From where Muirne stood, it almost looked like a painting. If she reached out, she imagined she could run her fingers along the city’s cracked silhouette and feel the grit, each bump and nook in the paint. Light bled up from the streets below in streaks—neon signs, headlights, streetlamps—all burning like scattered embers in a dying hearth.

She took a slow drag from the cigarette tucked between her lips, the ember pulsing bright. The night air slipped into her cramped office through the open balcony door, fluttering around the stacks of paper on every surface. Her jacket was tugged tightly around her body to keep the cold from creeping under the hem of her blouse. Still, it found her; seeping into her bones the way fatigue did after hours hunched over test results and drafts.

Her desk was a mess. A half-drunk espresso balanced dangerously close to edge. Crumpled notes littered the desk like fallen leaves, scrawled in her frantic shorthand. Somewhere beneath it all was a clipboard she’d needed two hours ago and had given up trying to find.

She’d told herself she’d only step away for five minutes. Just long enough to let her mind stop spinning, to slow the tempo of her racing thoughts and give her aching fingers a rest. But now, staring out over Gotham, the cigarette forgotten between her fingers, she realized how long she’d been zoning out. The bitter stench of the burning filter drew her back. The cigarette came to the tops of her fingers as she held it, calling to be put down before the cinders cringed at her skin. She clicked her tongue in annoyance and stepped away from the window.

She crossed the room, sidestepping stacks of books. On her desk sat a small, thick-bottomed glass bowl, blackened at the base and brimming with the carcasses of cigarettes past. She tapped the dying one against the base, letting it fall with a soft hiss into the heap. A lazy curl of smoke bloomed upward like a mushroom, then dispersed into the air.

Muirne watched it rise, eyes unfocused, mouth slightly parted in thought. The creak of a floorboard behind her was soft, but sharp enough to make her twitch.

Someone had been watching her.

Muirne didn’t spin around immediately. She glanced over her shoulder instead, curls shifting and almost obscuring her view as she caught the unmistakable silhouette.

Red helmet. Leather jacket. Broad shoulders set with a stiffness.

“If it isn’t the Red Hood,” she drawled, turning fully now and leaning back against her desk, the edge biting into the backs of her thighs. “Here on business or just checking in on your favorite gothamite?”

Her gaze lingered on the scuffed, impassive surface of his helmet, the sheen dulled from wear. She imagined the domino mask beneath, those ever-watching eyes narrowed.

“I came to talk,” he replied, voice clipped but not cold. His gloved hands moved to the sides of his helmet, fingers finding familiar latches.

With a soft hiss, the seal broke. He pulled it free, and a tumble of black hair fell loose. He raked a hand through it in a half-hearted attempt to tame it.

“Mind if I bum a cigarette?” he asked, nodding at the pack on her desk.

Muirne rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth curved. “You know, most people knock.”

He said nothing, but the almost-smile that ghosted his lips was answer enough.

She grabbed the pack and with an exaggerated grace, she stepped toward him; heels clicking against the floor. “I don’t mind a little company,” she said, voice dropping. “As long as it doesn’t end with bullet holes in my drywall. I just fixed the last ones.” Muirne held the pack out between two fingers, her nail tapping lightly against the cardboard.

“Pick your poison,” she said.

He took the offered cigarette, their fingers brushing.

“I’ll try to behave,” he said, deadpan.

She smirked. “Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

As she turned to retrieve the lighter from her desk, he tucked the cigarette between his lips. When she looked back, he tilted his head ever so slightly and gave an unspoken cue for her to light it for him. She stepped close as she cupped her hand around the end of the cigarette. With a flick, the lighter flared, casting a brief wash of amber light over their faces. Shadows danced across his jaw, painting his features in flame. The ember at the end of the cigarette bloomed to life with a sharp crackle, and he drew in deep. Smoke curled from his mouth in a lazy ribbon, drifting up past her cheek and into the shadows above them.

His eyes slid past her to the rest of the room, taking in the sprawl of things across her desk. The scattered blueprints, vials, post-it notes half-soaked in coffee stains. She watched him watch her world.

“Lots of work,” he said finally.

Muirne gave a sharp little laugh as she turned. “You don’t say. Though it doesn't concern you. I do have to organize my distribution and stock. I’m not some two-bit back alley cook.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Believe it or not, I actually care about my product.”

He scoffed, exhaling a fresh stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “And here I was thinking you were just another mad scientist with a flair for dramatics.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes, biting back a smirk as she leaned into the windowsill, shoulder brushing the glass. “I’m so much more than that.”

He leaned forward just slightly. “Oh yeah?” he said, voice dipping into something rougher; edged with that familiar challenge. “Why don’t you prove it to me?”

Muirne arched a slender brow. Her smile spread slow. “I did lend you a cigarette,” she replied smoothly. “If I were really mad, I’d have laced it with something nasty. Maybe even a hallucinogen, just to keep things interesting.” She gave a shrug. “Consider yourself lucky.”

He grinned around his own cigarette. “Still not convinced. You strike me as the ‘poison in her teeth’ type.”

“Oh?” Her chin tilted upward. “You think I’ve got little capsules tucked behind my molars? That's flattering.”

She turned and started back toward her desk, her hips swaying with the same confidence that colored her voice. “You wanna check or something?” she tossed back over her shoulder.

His footsteps followed; boots thudding against wood. “Wouldn’t mind.”

Before she reached the desk, she pivoted. Her gaze met his without flinching, expression unreadable but not uninviting. “Careful,” she murmured, the warning curling into a grin.

She hadn’t even registered the shift before it happened, his mouth was on hers in a sudden, blistering kiss. The cigarette crushed in his hands before he tossed it. He kissed like he fought; no wasted effort, no hesitation. Muirne’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands found the collar of his jacket and clutched the leather, fingers curling tight. She pulled him down to her, arms looped around his neck. He pressed into her, mouth parting hers in a fierce rhythm. His arms caged her in, hands braced on either side of the desk as their lips clashed. When he finally did break the kiss, a thin thread of spit still connected their mouths, glistening for a second before it snapped.

Without saying a word, he hooked a strong arm under her thighs and lifted her effortlessly, setting her on the edge of her desk, shoving her things out of the way. In a split second, his mouth was at her neck. He kissed down her jawline, his stubble scraping lightly against her skin as his mouth found the pulse beneath her ear. When his teeth grazed a tender spot just above her collarbone, Muirne inhaled sharply and bit down on her lip to stifle the sound that escaped.

The sound didn’t go unnoticed. She could feel him smile against her throat. His shoulders shook with the faintest silent laugh.

Her nails dug into the leather of his jacket. “Don’t you—”

Her reprimand was swallowed by another kiss; his lips pressed hard enough to bruise. He pushed forward, and she let herself fall back slightly, one elbow behind her propping her up. His body settled between her thighs, the bulge in his pants pressing against the inside of her leg, undeniable and growing.

There was no finesse to what came next. One of his gloved hands ran down the side of her thigh, trailing the edge of her skirt. Muirne shivered in anticipation, her thighs parting as he slipped his hand beneath the fabric and hiked it up to her hips. The coarse leather of his gloves scraped lightly against the softness of her skin. She gasped against his mouth as cool air licked across her upper thighs. His breath was panting, his fingers gripping her hip as he adjusted her on the desk.

Muirne’s hands moved to his pants with impatient fingers, fumbling at his belt as his mouth traveled back down the column of her throat. He wasn’t making it easy; each graze of his lips across her skin sent little jolts of distraction through her body, and she grunted softly in frustration. Still, her hands knew what they were doing, even if her brain was fogged. The belt came undone with a few tugs, the buckle giving a clink as it dangled loose against his hip.

“Getting bold, aren’t we?” he murmured into her skin, his voice becoming frayed.

She tilted her head to the side, letting him mouth at her jaw as her fingers slipped down to pop the button on his pants. “Oh please,” she whispered, lips brushing his ear. “You act like I haven’t done this before.”

He huffed and she could feel it ghost warm across her neck. “You do have a habit of skipping the foreplay.”

“I like efficiency.”

“Sure you do,” he muttered, amused, as she tugged his zipper down and slipped one hand up under his shirt. Her fingers spread across his stomach, dragging along bare skin. She splayed her palm there, slow and claiming.

His fingers skimmed her thigh. The contrast of his gloves against her bare skin made her shiver. He paused. His gaze flicked up to meet hers. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted his hand and caught the edge of his glove between his teeth, tugging it off and tossing it aside. Now bare, his hand returned to her inner thigh. Callused fingers slid higher, dragging gently across sensitive skin until they found the thin seat of her underwear. He hooked a finger beneath it and pulled it to the side.

His breath was coming ragged now, and he shifted his stance, crowding her against the desk. His hand wrapped around himself, and she could feel the change in his posture as he guided his cock against her. He rubbed the thick head through her slick folds—dragging it slowly up and down, brushing against her clit on each pass. Once. Twice. A third time, firmer, enough to make her hips jerk in response.

Muirne shuddered, thighs twitching around his waist as her breath caught in her throat.

“Stop teasing,” she bit out, voice taut with need. Her fingers curled into the desk behind her, while her free hand clutched at the edge of his jacket, dragging him forward.

He looked down at her with that maddening grin. “You say that every time,” he murmured.

He finally pressed his tip in and she gasped, head tipping back as her mouth dropped open. The stretch was immediate. Her muscles fluttered around him in reflex, trying to pull him deeper, but he held steady.

One hand gripped her hip with bruising pressure; the other braced on the desk beside her. Holding her exactly where he wanted. “Not so fast,” he said, voice tight.

“You’re the worst,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice cracking.

He leaned in until their foreheads touched. “Are you sure about that?”

Her nails scraped against his chest, grounding herself as the pressure built. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Fuck, Red—”

He sank deeper, slow and steady, inch by inch. A low, guttural moan slipped from her lips as her body adjusted around him. She fell back on her elbows, the muscles in her abdomen tightening as he bottomed out. Their hips finally met with a breath-stealing press of flesh to flesh.

His pace was maddening. Every thrust forward dragged a new sound from her throat. Her body was trembling from the tension building inside her, frustration clear on her face as she clenched her jaw. His gaze stayed locked on her. One hand slid down to her thigh, gripping it tightly, anchoring her in place. The other squeezed at her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he began to move in earnest.

His rhythm built quickly; deep, purposeful strokes that pushed the desk beneath them into a shaky stutter. It creaked beneath Muirne, legs scraping slightly against the worn floorboards with every sharp snap of his pelvis. Her fingers clung to his shoulders, then slid up into his hair, clutching at him like she’d fall apart if she didn’t hold on. Her body rocked in time with his, thighs locking tighter around his waist as his pace grew relentless. She could barely breathe, barely think; just sensation crashing through her like waves she couldn’t outswim.

He shifted his grip, one hand weaving up into the thick mass of her curls. He gave a firm tug, tilting her head back until her throat was bared to him, long and exposed and trembling with every panting breath.

He didn’t waste the invitation.

His mouth descended on her neck, biting just above her pulse point with enough force to make her yelp. Her back arched against him in response, the pain like a livewire that only heightened the heat blooming low in her belly.

“Fuck,” she gasped. He bit again, this time lower; just beneath the collarbone, then soothed the sting with a sweep of his tongue.

He was ruthless with his mouth, moving between nipping, sucking, and licking whatever skin he could reach on her neck. Red marks bloomed along her neck and shoulders in the wake of him. And when she’d had enough, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him back up to her, crashing their mouths together in a kiss. He met it with equal earnesty, groaning into her mouth as one hand slipped between their bodies, fingers finding her clit. He rubbed in tight, relentless circles.

“Come on,” he growled against her lips. “I want you to cum on my cock.”

She didn’t need more than that.

Her body locked up around him; hips bucking, muscles seizing, breath torn from her throat in a strangled cry as she came. Her cunt clenched hard around him, pulsing in erratic waves that made her legs shake and her vision blur. The orgasm ripped through her like lightning, long and consuming, stealing everything that wasn’t him.

The feel of her coming undone; fluttering around him and dragged him over the edge right after. With a grunt, he pulled out fast, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking himself through the final moments. His hips stuttered forward and then he came with a low, guttural groan, spilling hot across her rumpled skirt.

Neither of them moved right away. He braced himself against the desk, one hand flat beside her, breath coming in sharp, uneven pulls. Sweat clung to his brow, collecting beneath the line of his mask. The urge to strip it off and let the air hit his skin was strong but he resisted.

Muirne lay back against the desk, her chest heaving with each labored breath. Her curls clung to her temples. She blinked up at him, dazed and glowing, until her eyes dropped to the sticky mess on her.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she muttered, exasperated. “Really? On my skirt?”

He huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Better than in you.”

She raised an unimpressed brow. “You want to explain that to the dry cleaner?”

He exhaled a breathy laugh, reaching for the waistband of his pants. “Then next time,” he said as he tucked himself back into his boxers, “I’ll make sure to take it off first.” He leaned in just slightly, bracing one forearm on the desk beside her, his other hand still resting low on her bare thigh. “So,” he began, “do you want to circle back to the reason I came here in the first place? Or was this your plan all along to dodge the conversation?”

Muirne tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with mock suspicion. “My plan? You're the one who snuck in after hours, looking like sin and sweet talking me.”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug, entirely unrepentant. “I can have two motives.”

Crossposted to AO3

lmk if you’d like to be tagged in the next

[vilevenom]

Okay, sooo...the first chapter of this fic has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. I'm tired of it languishing, so I decided to finally just post it.

You Are Now My Home Sweet Home

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog (general media)

Pairing: Sonic/Shadow

Chapter: 1/?

Summary: He couldn't really remember exactly when it had all started. But it didn't really matter now.

He'd always thought that their biology was incompatible.

Life had a funny way of proving him wrong time and again.

WARNINGS: Explicit sexual acts. Characters are depicted as ADULTS. Mentions of Miscarriage and Pregnancy

P.S - If you want a full list of tags, this has already been posted on AO3

Shadow grunted as his head was pushed further down, a low moan escaping his lips as Sonic thrust into him without abandon.

He couldn't really remember exactly when it had all started. All he could really recall was that one day, after a particularly rough race, while both of them had been catching their breath at the top of a mountain, Sonic had suddenly dug his fingers into Shadow's quills, pulled his head back and kissed him with a ferocity that Shadow had otherwise not known the hero to possess. Their physicality rapidly progressed from there, with each of their subsequent meetings ending in increasingly more intimate acts, until nearly every race or fight they had ended with the hybrid pressed down into the ground in some secluded woodland area, Sonic's cock buried deep inside him.

What Shadow could easily remember was Sonic's initial reaction to his relatively peculiar anatomical configuration. They'd made out on several occasions by the time the blue hero finally seemed to gain the courage to press his fingers against the slit of Shadow's pouch. He'd groaned into the hybrid's mouth happily as his cock slid free, only to jerk back in surprise as his fingers dipped down into unexpected slick. Shadow had arched a brow at Sonic's surprise, a slow smirk of bravado curling his lips, even as panicked quietly coiled in his gut over the hero's hesitance. "What? Is it too much for you?" he had teased, heart practically in his throat as Sonic observed the viscous liquid dripping from his fingers. In turn, the hero had shaken his head, making some asinine comment about being up for any challenge while letting his hand slide back down, experimentally dragging his fingers along the folds of Shadow's pussy.

He'd gotten Shadow off, because of course he had, but they hadn't had penetrative sex. They'd simply rutted against each other, with Sonic's hand a blur over their cocks until they'd made a mess on the forest floor. Shadow had worried, after the blue hedgehog had left, that the hero would cease their clandestine little meetings because of his genitalia.

Apparently he needn't have worried.

Barely a week later he found himself spread out on the side of a grassy hill with Sonic between his knees, biting at his lip as he gingerly slid his cock between the folds of the hybrid's pussy. "Can I…?" he'd asked, looking more nervous than Shadow was certain he'd ever seen him. After the barest hint of a nod, Sonic was pushing into him with a breathy moan, his tail wagging practically at the speed of light as he'd bottomed out. Shadow had never had something inside him before, aside from his fingers, so the stretch of the hero's cock and the depth he could reach were novel and new. They'd moved in tandem from there, reaching their climax in what felt like record time, with Sonic pulling out just in time to make a mess of Shadow's fur with his spend. He'd apologized with a laugh as Shadow griped at him to be more careful, before taking off with a promise they'd try something new the next time.

It turned out that the next time was barely three days later, and the something new was the blue blur happily presenting his ass to the hybrid with a wicked smirk. While Shadow had easily found his finish inside Sonic, he'd also found himself wanting for the feeling of a thick length stuffing his cunt full as he orgasmed. After that experience, he realized that he didn't care much for being 'on top', preferring the fulfilling sensation of his body providing pleasure to someone else while having something thick split him open.

His cock currently hung heavy between his legs, dripping onto the ground between his knees, angry red and neglected, though he cared little about the ache. He was more than content to simply lay there and let Sonic use him if it meant he got to continue to enjoy the warmth of the other filling him. It was the closest he imagined he would ever get to proper intimacy with the hero, given Sonic's reputation and general lack of interest in romance or companionship. He knew he wasn't the first 'rival' Sonic had taken to bedding, and he figured he wouldn't be the last. But, oh, how he wished that the faint brush of Sonic's teeth over his shoulder would dig down and sink into flesh to stake some sort of claim.

It was a fleeting, foolish wish that his traitorous heart kept pushing into his head in these moments, while Sonic was deep inside him, curled over his back and praising his body while calling him a 'good boy'. It let him imagine that the hero's heart belonged to him, and only him, and that the sweet nothings murmured into his ear truly meant something. That their periodic dalliances were more than a daring game to the blue hedgehog, lasting only as long as someone didn't catch them. But those thoughts were usually swiftly dashed and pushed aside as Sonic neared his climax and inevitably began to babble, letting Shadow know that he really was just a toy to the blue blur.

"Fuck, Shadow," Sonic growled into the hybrid's shoulder, pulling his cock free of Shadow's dripping cunt to flip Shadow onto his back with a feral grin on his face. "Look at you," he crudely smacked his dick against the folds of Shadow's pussy, "So wet for me." He roughly pushed himself back inside the hybrid with a wet squelch, pushing Shadows legs up and back, folding the other in half so he could continue to fuck him fast and deep. "The ultimate lifeform, reduced to whimpers," he breathed with a low chuckle, digging his fingers into Shadow's thighs hard enough to leave bruises under his fur, "Always so cocksure and confident, now so fucked out you're drooling all over yourself and making a mess, desperately whining to cum while stuffed full of my cock." He snickered as Shadow tossed his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut as he wrapped his fingers around his weeping dick, stroking in time with the hero's brutal thrusts. Sonic was pressing in deep. Deeper than Shadow was certain he'd ever felt him before. It made his toes curl and pathetic mewls dribble from his lips. "I wish everyone could hear the desperate little sounds you make while I fuck you. See how blissed out you get with my dick buried inside you. Now, c'mon, Shads. Make even more of a mess of yourself for me. Come on and cum all over yourself for me."

With that, Shadow let out a cry, his back arching as his cock released streams of white across his abdomen, while his pussy clenched and fluttered around Sonic's dick, slick gushing onto the ground beneath them. He groaned as he fell limp beneath Sonic, the hero grunting above him, holding his legs high while pressing him down into the ground and grinding in as deep as he could go. "So fucking tight," he moaned, biting his lip as he doubled over the hybrid and found his own release, buried to the hilt.

The first time Sonic had cum inside him had been a bit of a dramatic fiasco. Shadow had barely had time to enjoy his orgasm before Sonic was pulling out roughly with a cry of distress, causing the hybrid to go on full alert, his quills raised in warning as he cast his gaze around for what could have caused the hero to shout like he'd been hit. Instead, all he found were Sonic's remorseful green eyes staring at him and a litany of apologies spilling from his mouth. Shadow had simply scoffed at the time, assuring Sonic their biology was incompatible according to his medical charts, so it was fine.

Or, so he'd thought, anyway. That was right up until a few weeks later when he was bleeding into a toilet with cramps unlike any he'd experienced before, twisting his organs and making him groan into his knees. A miscarriage, according to the medical texts he quickly looked up through a secure IP once the cramps had passed and he'd cleaned himself up. Apparently his reproductive organs weren't nearly as thoroughly researched as he'd been lead to believe. He never told Sonic, of course, resolute in his unwillingness to give up the small modicum of false intimacy they had. He was certain the scare of potential pregnancy or the thought of needing to be careful would cause the hero to grow bored of their trysts. He also just didn't want to deal with the inevitable guilt that the situation would cause.

And, it would have seemed, based on the handful of subsequent similar experiences he had over the next year or so, that the research wasn't completely wrong. None of the embryos ever took, proving to him that his womb really wasn't suited for Mobian reproduction. It was far from a pleasant experience, but certainly something worth the encounters he got in exchange, in Shadow's opinion. By the third miscarriage he was well versed in what to do and how to take care of himself. Sonic was like the wind, and he was more than happy to make sacrifices of himself to hold the whisp of their relationship in hands for as long as he could. After all, if life had taught him anything, it was that nothing worth loving in life came without pain

Shadow's mind snapped back to the present as Sonic snickered above him, his cock still buried inside the hybrid as he grinned. "Did you float away there, Shads? Didja cum that hard? Certainly made quite the mess," he teased, palms tracing up and down Shadow's thighs. And there it was, another break in Shadow's fantasy. Aside from Sonic's degradation, the hero always laughed and teased afterwards, treating their coupling like the conclusion to an especially fun game. It truly solidified to Shadow just how little he ultimately meant to Sonic, outside of providing some sort of temporary satisfaction to the blue hedgehog.

"I was enjoying myself," Shadow growled, swatting at Sonic's still roaming hands, "But then you opened your stupid mouth. Now, if you're finished, get off me."

"Aww," Sonic sighed, gently easing himself out of Shadow, "You're no fun, Shads."

"That's not what you said barely a minute ago," the hybrid ground out, tossing an arm over his eyes as Sonic eased his legs down, setting them gently on the ground before standing between Shadow's feet. Aside from his own cooling slick, he could feel a faint trickle of Sonic's cum dribbling out of his pussy. He grunted as he clenched his muscles, not particularly wanting to be laying in an even bigger puddle than he already was.

"Touché," Sonic laughed, tucking himself into his pouch without an apparent care in the world. "Hey, y'know…Amy is having a little get together tonight for her birthday. You should come."

Shadow grunted as he peeked out from under his arm, a look of utter disdain on his face. "I'm not going to your girlfriends birthday party. Especially not right after you've fucked me."

"Amy is not my girlfriend," Sonic was quick to snap, only to wilt slightly at the look he got from Shadow. He took a quick deep breath, his foot unconsciously tapping against the ground as he folded his arms over his chest. "Look, I just thought it'd be nice, y'know? You never really come to any social gatherings without Rouge practically dragging you there. Figured I'd extend an olive branch."

"I don't need nor want your olive branch," Shadow said with a low grunt as he sat up, making a face as he took stock of the mess on his fur, "What I need is a bath."

"You could come after the bath."

Shadow tossed his head back with a groan, closing his eyes as he leaned back onto his hands. "Look, Sonic," he growled out, opening his eyes after a moment to glare at the hero, "You can test your speed against me, spar with me, use me to satisfy your carnal needs," he grunted as he shoved himself to his feet, ignoring the sticky, wet feeling between his thighs, "But the moment you start to pity me? Pretend like you care? We're done." He took some satisfaction in the dumbfounded, nearly wounded expression Sonic had plastered on his face, like he was unaware that Shadow could see right through his little games. Like Shadow didn't know he had to guard his heart for fear of having it shattered.

"What? Shadow-"

"Ah! No," Shadow held a hand up, effectively silencing the hero, "I think we're done here. You got what you wanted." He dug into his quills and pulled out the ever present green chaos emerald, stepping quickly back from the hero as he reached out. "Good bye, Sonic." With that he chaos controlled away, knowing full well that the look on Sonic's face was disappointment at being caught out, and not the heartbreak he desperately wished it was.

Luckily for Shadow, GUN called on him not an hour later, forcing him away from Central City for a solid month, so he wouldn't have to deal with Sonic's antics for at least a few weeks.

~

Rouge had known something was up the moment Shadow had first come home sweaty and disheveled - far more than usual when he came back from a race with Sonic. She assumed he'd gotten laid, by the sway of his hips and his suspiciously good mood. She could pinpoint the exact date and time he'd practically swaggered into their shared apartment, a barely perceptible smirk on his lips as he'd made himself dinner and then vanished into his bedroom. It was shortly after that she started to notice how Sonic and Shadow kept disappearing together and making excuses to be alone. It really wasn't hard to put two and two together if one was paying even a modicum of attention, which most of Sonic's friends blatantly didn't. But she did. It was one of her specialties, after all.

She'd needled him once or twice for details, only to be brushed off or dismissed entirely, which was fine. Despite their relatively close relationship, they were both private individuals. She knew that he knew she'd be there, if he really needed someone to talk to, or vice versa. At least, she hoped he did.

That idea was swiftly kicked to the curb when she'd come home one evening to the faint smell of blood underpinning an overwhelming scent of bleach in the air. Their bathroom was suspiciously clean, and she'd found Shadow curled up on the couch in his favorite blanket with a bucket of ice cream, an ice pack conspicuously held to his abdomen. For a moment, she'd thought he'd gotten into a fight and had to use their bathroom as a makeshift surgery, which had happened before. But he didn't look injured. At least, nowhere that was visible.

It was then that she decided privacy be damned. Even if they both played it off with barbs and aloof demeanors, they cared about each other, and Rouge was not about to let Shadow suffer silently through whatever was going on with him. So, she'd confronted him. Demanding an explanation, accompanied by a false threat of homelessness, should Shadow continue to bite his tongue. It had fallen on deaf ears, and Rouge watched in abject horror as Shadow lifted himself from the couch and limped to the door, fully intent on just leaving, instead of talking to her like a grown ass adult.

Tears seemed to do the trick, where threats did nothing. Shadow only paused when he heard Rouge sob, his previously hard expression falling into one of regret. He puffed out a breath as he hobbled back over to the couch, flopping down with a grunt and dragging his ice pack back over. Minutes passed as Rouge gathered herself and Shadow stared into space, words only finally passing his lips once the bat's sniffles stopped.

He told her about the strange day that Sonic had kissed him, and the rapid progression of the relationship neither of them really acknowledged outside their 'meetings'. He then reluctantly told her about how he'd been harboring feelings for Sonic for quite some time, but knew full well that no one would be able to catch the blue blur in their grasp, so he was taking what he could while he held the hero's attention. He knew full well that it was a fleeting thing, so when Rouge admonished him about not just talking to Sonic, he brought up how flippant the hero could be with even the smallest of inconveniences. With great reluctance, he then admitted to the miscarriage he'd had, and how he knew Sonic would run if he knew. He didn't want to lose what they had, no matter how detrimental it was to his physical well being. After all, he'd pointed out, he was the ultimate lifeform, with advanced healing capabilities. He would be fine.

After sitting in silence while Rouge digested the information she'd been given, Shadow then made the bat swear to secrecy. She'd protested heartily, but a threat of disappearing from Shadow had her reluctantly agreeing to keeping her mouth shut. It would be hard, since there was no way she would ever be able to look at the blue hedgehog the same way, knowing what he was unwittingly doing to her best friend, but she'd do her best.

So, when Shadow appeared in the living room, stinking of sex, his fur matted with an assortment of fluids she didn't want to think about, she said nothing. When he pushed a communicator into her hands after a swift shower and told her to come with him on a GUN mission, she continued to hold her tongue. But when he vomited on the carpet the moment they'd stepped back into the apartment a month later, while clutching at his stomach, she apparently couldn't stay silent anymore.

"What the fuck?!" Rouge snapped, frozen halfway into their shared apartment, staring in wide eyed, disgusted shock at the scene before her.

Not her finest moment, really, as Shadow fell to his knees, only barely missing the puddle of sick as he gasped in pain. It was the gasp, a sound Rouge so very rarely ever heard from her sullen companion, that made her realize the true gravity of the situation, carefully avoiding the puddle on the floor to crouch next to Shadow, a gentle hand ghosting over his shoulder.

"Honey, what happened? Did you eat something that was off?"

Shadow grunted as he sat himself up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his glove. "I am the Ultimate Life form. I don't need to eat."

"One, I know that's a lie because I saw you stuff your face on the cinnamon buns Vanilla dropped off last month , and two, you probably think that's reassuring somehow, or making you sound indestructible, but in this situation it's making me more worried," Rouge admonished, rubbing calming little circles between Shadow's back quills as he caught his breath.

"I'm fine. You don't need to coddle me."

"The puddle of vomit on my floor says otherwise, hun."

Shadow growled, scowling down at the offending non-contents of his stomach. He couldn't exactly argue that. He huffed out a breath after a beat, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "I…I don't know. I just suddenly felt light headed and nauseous. It happened before I even realized what was going on."

"Well if you didn't eat anything weird, then maybe it was something you drank?" Rouge offered, frowning at the little scowl Shadow shot her. "Or something you didn't drink? Shadow, please tell me you've at least been drinking water."

"I am-"

"Do not give me the Ultimate Lifeform spiel right now. Everyone needs to drink water. You're probably dehydrated. C'mon, grumpy, let's get you some water."

With that Rouge helped Shadow to his feet, a supportive arm around his mid section as they skirted around the mess on the floor and headed into the kitchen. After three glasses of water, Shadow reported that he was feeling better, much to Rouge's smug satisfaction.

"There, you see? Maybe try acting like a normal person every once in a while and, y'know, eat, and you might be able to avoid these kinds of situations in the future," she gloated, though not unkindly. She ruffled Shadow's quills, much to the dark hedgehogs chagrin, then trotted off to find someone to call and come clean her carpet. As much as she loved Shadow, she was not about to clean up his vomit.

Admittedly, Rouge had thought Shadow's illness would be a one time fluke of a thing, caused by general stress and a lack of taking care of himself. But, it would seem that wasn't the case, as the next morning she woke to the distinct sound of Shadow retching rather violently into the toilet. She paused in the bathroom doorway after dragging herself out of bed, wrapped in her comfiest robe, delicate brow arched as Shadow peered up at her rather pathetically from his spot curled on the floor.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd swear this was morning sickness," she quipped blandly, folding her arms over her chest.

"Impossible," Shadow grumbled with a scowl, reaching up to flush the toilet.

"Well, you didn't eat anything last night. All you've got in your system is water, as far as I'm aware. And, forgive me if I'm misremembering, but I do recall at least one or two of your ultimate lifeform declarations including the fact that you can't get sick," she snarked, tilting her chin up. "When did you last shack up with Blue?"

Shadow groaned, tilting his head to rest his cheek against the toilet seat, brow furrowed. "Just before we left on mission. But I'm telling you, Rouge, it's impossible. My biology simply isn't compatible with that of Mobians. I know you are aware of enough of my miscarriages to prove that fact."

Rouge's brows both crawled up her forehead, a slight tilt to her head. "I was aware of two or three. Are you implying there have been more?"

"Don't act surprised," Shadow sighed, tone defeated, "And please don't give me the self destructive talk again. We went on a mission so I wouldn't have to see his stupid face for a month, okay? I'm trying to kick the habit."

"And doing a piss poor job of it, by the look of things," Rouge quipped back, snorting as Shadow tipped his head to half bury his face against his arm. "Look, I'm going to order some pregnancy tests, okay? You're going to take them, just to be on the safe side."

"Order? You know that will start rumors if a delivery driver is bringing you pregnancy tests," the hybrid grumbled into his arm.

"Who said anything about delivering them to me? I'm going to have them delivered to Omega. No delivery driver in their right mind is going to say shit about what they deliver to him," Rouge hummed, already tapping away on her phone.

Twenty minutes later found Omega outside Club Rouge, plastic bag in hand.

"My knight in robust, bullet proof armor," Rouge cooed as she flew down to retrieve the bag from Omega, grin on her face.

"QUERY. WHY DID YOU NEED ME TO FETCH YOUR GROCERIES FOR YOU?" Omega asked, though he did obediently hold up the bag for the bat to take.

"These aren't groceries, hun. It's a handful of…delicate items I needed discreetly delivered, and I couldn't think of anyone more perfect for the job," Rouge cooed, playing easily into the robot's ego.

"AFFIRMATIVE. I AM THE BEST AT BEING DISCREET," Omega's booming voice carried down the street.

"No one better," Rouge chuckled, patting the robot on the head, "Now, I'm sorry to grab and go, but I have some sensitive matters to attend to."

"UNDERSTOOD. I WILL SEE YOU FOR THE NEXT MISSION," Omega said, before turning abruptly and heading back down the street.

Rouge watched the robot go for a moment with a charmed little smile on her face, before turning and heading back inside, bag clutched to her chest.

"Alright, hun, we've got a variety to try out," she hummed as she approached the bathroom while riffling through the bag, "The shortest one says results in three minutes, while the longest one is ten. I hope you have a full bladder, 'cause you're going to need to pee a fair bit."

"I still think those are unnecessary," Shadow grumbled, finally pushing himself away from the toilet once Rouge was in the bathroom, sitting back to lean against the wall.

"Just take them. For both our sanity," Rouge sighed, dumping the contents of the bag onto the counter.

With a grunt of disdain, Shadow shoved himself to his feet, shuffling over to the counter to look over the assortment of tests Rouge had purchased. Picking through the boxes, he chose three and set them aside, earning a frown from Rouge. "I will take these three. Seven seems like overkill," he snorted, sucking on his teeth, "These should be more than enough to prove to you that I'm not pregnant."

Rouge continued to frown at Shadow for a moment more, before huffing out a breath and tossing her hands in the air. "Fine! Fine. Three is better than none, I suppose. Let me get a glass we can throw away for you to pee in. It'll be easier just to dip the tests in, rather than hoping you've got enough liquid in your bladder to piss three times."

"Don't be so crass," the hybrid grumbled, earning an eye roll from Rouge as she stepped out of the bathroom.

"Drink some water while I rummage in the kitchen."

Grumbling his dissent, Shadow did as he was asked, downing a couple of glasses of tap water before Rouge returned with an odd little plastic cup that the hybrid was fairly certain he'd never seen before. "Where did this even come from?"

"You got me. I found it in the back of the cupboard, and since neither of us remember it, I think it's good to go in the trash when you're done with it."

"Noted," Shadow stated, setting the cup on the counter next to his chosen tests. For an awkward moment the two stood silently in the bathroom, staring down at the assortment on the counter, before finally Shadow snapped. "Alright, get out," he huffed, unceremoniously shoving Rouge towards the door, while ignoring the indignant squawk the bat let out as she stumbled out of the room.

With much trepidation, Shadow ripped open each of the three tests he'd picked out, carefully setting them up on the counter before reading the instructions to each thoroughly, while ignoring Rouge's periodic needling through the door. Finally, with a hefty sigh, he picked up the doomed little plastic cup and set about finally taking the three tests that could, for better or worse, change the trajectory of his life.

It should have felt like a lifetime, waiting the designated times for the little plastic sticks to determine his fate, but it felt like no time at all before he was peering down at the tests with nerves he hadn't even realized had begun to make his hands shake and stomach flutter.

Shadow stared down at the little sticks, neatly lined up on the counter, two blue lines taunting him like some sick joke from all three. He contemplated, for a brief moment, yelling at Rouge through the door to go to the pharmacy for him to get something, anything, that would stop this in its tracks. Panic momentarily filled his chest with dread, his grip on the edge of the counter nearly strong enough to crack the marble it was made from. And then his eye was caught by a simple blue ribbon, sticking out of one of the bathroom drawers. It was a plain little thing that Rouge sometimes used in her hair, but it just so happened to be the same cornflower blue of the dress Maria used to wear. It made him wonder what she would have to say about this whole situation. Obviously, she would have admonished Shadow for how he was allowing Sonic to treat him, and she'd scold him for not being more careful. But then she would have been so excited. She'd likely coo over Shadow's stomach and start designing clothes and accessories for his child before he had even fathomed that it existed.

He took several long, deep breaths and looked at himself in the mirror, at his flat stomach, and angled himself ever so slightly, imagining it slightly distended. He swallowed thickly as he pressed a hand to his belly. It made his heart give a treacherous little thump in his chest at the idea of having a child growing inside him. Sonic's child. Something he'd never even contemplated in his wildest dreams to be possible.

Well…hadn't he vowed to protect all life on the planet? He supposed that extended to one beginning to grow inside him, even if its tiny chances were likely pretty slim.

"Alright," he murmured to his reflection, "if you've survived in there this long, I suppose I should give you a fair chance."

"Well?" Rouge prompted as Shadow pulled the bathroom door open and stepped out. Silently, Shadow held out one of the tests for her to see, a quiet gasp escaping her as she stared down at the little blue tics that had nearly sent Shadow into a panic attack mere moments ago. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see how long it lasts."

"…are you going to tell Blue?"

"No."

Rouge arched a brow at him, hand on her hip, skepticism plain on her face. Shadow sighed, turning to toss the pregnancy test into the bin in the bathroom, where its brethren already sat.

"I know you've heard him talk about being done with kids, Rouge. He's never made it a secret that he's more than happy that Tails is old enough to take care of himself, and he barely tolerates playing with Cream half the time. Do you really think he'd appreciate having this dumped on him? Especially after I reassured him it wasn't even a possibility?"

"I think you underestimate how much responsibility Blue is willing to take on," Rouge said with a click of her tongue, stepping aside as Shadow brushed past her on the way to the kitchen.

"That's just it, though, isn't it?" Shadow hummed as he pulled a glass from the cupboard, "It's a difference between willing and wanting."

"It's not like you were exactly chomping at the bit for kids yourself there, hun."

Shadow sighed as he poured himself a glass of water. "Perhaps not. But, after a moment of thought, after being startled by the results of those tests…maybe I always did, but never allowed myself to hope it was feasible."

Rouge folded her arms over her chest and leaned in the kitchen doorway as Shadow sipped at his water, a contemplative look on her face. Finally, after half of Shadow's glass was gone, she sighed and nodded. "All right. I guess it's ultimately your body, your choice and all that. Just know that no matter what, I'm here for you, okay? Anything you need, I'll be there."

A rare smile graced the hybrid's face at Rouge's words, offering her a quick nod. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

[moonlit-femme]

Sleepy orgasms are the best. I thought I was too tired to make myself cum. So I started lazily touching myself, and next thing I knew my fingers were moving so fast that I could barely focus. And now the sheets are soaked and my panties are ruined.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.

For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door. 

And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again. 

“That’s it.”

Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room. 

Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for. 

Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you. 

“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.” 

Nothing. 

With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer. 

“Logan.”

Finally, he groaned. “What?” 

His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand. 

“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”

You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over. 

“Too much information.”

You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”

Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts. 

Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside. 

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking. 

However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled. 

He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie. 

By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were. 

But he was asleep. 

Right beside you. 

Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her. 

Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his. 

“Storm- what are you- Oh.”

Jean looked inside. 

“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”

“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”

You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment. 

You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him. 

It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan. 

For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm. 

Serene. 

Rested. 

Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you. 

Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning. 

“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face. 

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Then a cough came from the door. 

Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”

Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”

You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”

Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed. 

“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away. 

“Sure.”

Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed. 

“They’re got a point.”

“About us being a couple?”

You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”

Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more. 

Jean and Storm were right. 

From the picture…they did look like a couple. 

A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring. 

All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands. 

And for you, that meant finally reading. 

Until you sensed someone stood behind you. 

“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”

Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you. 

“Logan! Give it back.”

“I want to see what it’s about.”

You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”

“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”

“Like the romantic kind.”

Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”

You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not. 

“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“I believe in romance.” 

“Yeah, right.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”

Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?”

“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”

You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud. 

“People really talk like this?”

You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”

Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud. 

It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck. 

“Keep reading.”

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Now I’m awake.” 

“Fine, just be quiet.”

You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading. 

And ten minutes later, you were asleep. 

And so was he. 

An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby. 

“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”

“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”

Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him. 

“What is it?” Then she gasped. 

“Believe me now?”

And what Rouge saw made her smile. 

On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire. 

“Come on, let's leave them.”

“But-”

“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”

Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her. 

The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October. 

Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying. 

Save for two. 

Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook. 

“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”

“You should have more faith in him.”

“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”

And she couldn’t. Because she was. 

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg. 

There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help. 

And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies. 

“Bub,”

Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back. 

You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect. 

“Dance with me?”

“What?”

Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards. 

“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”

“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”

Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”

And you both were. 

Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen. 

“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”

“Logan.”

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”

“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”

“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”

“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”

Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest. 

For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…

Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect. 

He dipped you. 

You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh. 

Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin. 

And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen. 

And dipping you. 

When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you. 

Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background. 

“Logan…”

Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say. 

Had his eyes always had so much green in them? 

Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter. 

Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more. 

So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?

Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door. 

A sneeze. 

A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality. 

Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam. 

Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”

Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed. 

Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him. 

“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking. 

“You did ambush me.”

“I didn’t ambush you.”

“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.” 

You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”

Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own. 

“That big of an ambush.”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa. 

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”

You did so. 

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa. 

Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him. 

An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both. 

She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two. 

And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long. 

Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened. 

Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas. 

Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them. 

But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different. 

“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”

Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”

“So?” 

Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe. 

“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”

“Hey, no.”

“Hey, yes.”

“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”

Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”

“Technically, it’s a month.”

“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”

You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”

Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”

“Great from where I’m standing.”

You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking. 

Not at the garland, but at your ass. 

You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down. 

“I meant the garland.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”

You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”

With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”

“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”

“I get to watch you put up five more.”

You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”

Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up. 

You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away. 

Then Logan gave you a real kiss. 

A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”

He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”

“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway. 

It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms. 

And the others had been watching you and Logan all day. 

The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe. 

“Wait, no. Not there.”

“Where then?”

Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”

Storm shook her head. “Here.”

She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt. 

Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree. 

At least this way, those looking for it, would find it. 

"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”

There was no one else apart from Logan.

Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take. 

Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you. 

Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others. 

“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces. 

“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing. 

“That was some kiss.”

You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan. 

He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people. 

“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”

You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip. 

You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”

“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”

You looked back to the others. “Six months.”

A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”

All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile. 

“I knew it!”

[saeamy]

OWL (OUR SON)

itoshi rin x reader

summary ۫ ꣑ৎ you're waiting for rin to return from blue lock, but something is missing from his room content: fluff! probably ooc! rin wc: 997 a/n: this is a draft from like 2 years ago that i kinda tried fixing up as best i could lol. this was like my first time writing so i hope you enjoy ^^ also didn't know what to name this...

giving gifts to rin wasn’t just hard. it was a whole mission.

but for his last birthday, you felt like you really came through with his gift. you had spent hours making sure it was absolutely perfect, no flaws or miscounted rows. a crocheted owl plushie. rin’s birthday embroidered on the bottom of the foot, and you made an additional cute scarf and sun hat for the owl, with both yours and rin’s initials.

when you first gave it to him, he had just stared at it for a few seconds, before letting a small smile make its way to his face. and from then on, the owl was always lying somewhere in his room, whether it be on his desk or on his bed. 

you even noticed how rin would change the owl’s clothes depending on the weather and season, but you’d never tell him, he’d just roll his eyes and deny it. 

but now, you were sat on his bed, scrolling through your phone while you waited for rin to return from blue lock. his mum loved you, and let you in, treating you as if you were a daughter. it’s been around 3 months since you last saw rin properly, only communicating with him on texts and short calls when it was allowed. 

you had seen him play against the japan u20, and the way you had tried your best to comfort him after his face-off with sae. 

you glance at the time, and get up to stretch your legs a bit. he should be here soon. you couldn’t wait to see him properly, talk to him without any distractions. your eyes flit around the room as you pop your back, and you see something out of place. or rather, a lack of something.

everything was as it should be. his shelves full of trophies that he had earned, a picture of sae and him (yes, he put it back up) and a picture of you and rin from your second date. 

but the owl was missing. it wasn’t on the bed when you had sat down, or on his desk. neither was it on the shelves next to his trophies. you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but your heart clenched a bit. 

maybe he didn’t like it that much, and only kept it around to keep you happy. did he throw it away, was it too childish for him? but you swore rin’s eyes had lit up when you had first presented your little project, all bundled up in a basket alongside some other small gifts! 

but you didn’t have much time to think about it when you heard a familiar voice speaking to ms itoshi in the kitchen. 

footsteps padded towards you, and the door opens to reveal your boyfriend, standing with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“rin! you’re home!” 

you quickly move to wrap your hands around his neck, squeezing him tightly. rin’s hands fall around your waist, his head dropping onto your shoulder, his dark hair tickling your neck. “i’m back,” he mutters gently.

you both pull away, and he sets his bag down, but you promptly reach out to grab it. 

“i’ll unpack it real quick, so you won’t have to do it later!” 

rin just nods, completely forgetting what was in his bag. you start taking out his clothes while he flops down on the bed, thankful for the peace provided away from his teammates at blue lock. “rin?”

rin can already hear the grin in your voice, and he sits back up, raising a suspicious brow. “mhm?” 

he looks at you, and sees your wide smile. while unpacking, you found his owl, bundled between some of his clothes, and rin’s ears quickly flush pink as he realises what you’re getting at. “you took it with you?” 

rin groans, burying his face between his knees, but he hears the smugness and elation in the question you already knew the answer to. rin didn’t get rid of it after all, he had literally taken the owl you made him for the entirety of the 3 months he was at blue lock. 

“you missed me that much?” 

now you were stretching it. he rolls his eyes, trying to keep his cool demeanour up, despite failing miserably. the red flush from his ears was slowly making its way down to his neck. “don’t let it get to your head. i just needed…” 

needed what? something to remind him of you when you couldn’t talk? but he’d never admit that to you. not that rin needed to. you already knew, but you like to tease him and watch him get flustered. “whatever, he probably just accidentally landed in the bag while i was packing.” 

rin raises his head to look at you, and he groans when he notices your wide eyes. “what now?” 

you snicker, not bothering to hold any of your chuckles to yourself. “so he’s a he now? does he have a name too, rinnie? it would be shame to leave our son nameless now would it?”

rin was sure that if you were to touch anywhere on his body, you’d feel the way he burned like he was running a 39.5 degree fever. he just grabs your wrist and yanks you up from where you were kneeling next to his bag. 

“just shut up.” he grumbles like an angry kitten, and shifts your bodies so that you’re both laying down, his face buried in your back so you can’t see the expression on him. you can feel the warmth emanating from his flushed face and you just hum contently. “i’m really glad you liked your gift rin. it makes me really happy.” 

he clicks his tongue. “i’d like anything you give me, stupid.”

and your eyelids flutter closed, happy to be back in your boyfriend’s arms again, even if just temporarily, rin will always carry something from you with him, whatever it may be. 

© saeamy 2025 - do not repost, translate, copy or modify my works on any other platform!

[iydiamartinx]

MORAL MIDDLE GROUND

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

divider by: cafekitsune & omi-resources word count: 986 synopsis: He wants answers. You want a little fun. But when kids are in the line of fire, the games stop and you drop the mask. a/n: Had this sitting in my drafts, don't ask me what exactly Sionis is up to cause I don't know, I just made some shit up that sounded cool and didn't bother to edit it to make sense.

The room was dimly lit, its only illumination coming from a flickering overhead bulb that cast long shadows across cracked walls and peeling paint. Rain tapped steadily against broken windowpanes, and beneath the musty scent of mildew and gunpowder, you could still make out the copper tang of old blood.

Jason stood opposite you—arms crossed, helmet discarded on the table beside him, jaw clenched tight. The Red Hood persona radiated off him even without the gear, all tightly coiled rage and ruthless control. His voice was low and sharp, slicing through the silence like a blade.

“Tell me what you know about Black Mask’s new operation.”

You sat comfortably, legs crossed.Your left hand toyed lazily with a lock of hair while your right held a cigarette, the ember glowing faintly as it hovered near your lips. A drying cut traced your cheekbone, your bottom lip was split and tender from the earlier scuffle you had with him. You took a slow drag, exhaling smoke with a small sigh, perfectly at ease despite the sting in your jaw and the man in the Red Hood pacing just a few feet away.

“You’re no fun tonight,” you pouted, groaning. “No witty banter? No threats? Not even handcuffs? Tsk. You’ve gone soft, Hood.”

Jason didn’t flinch. “You’re stalling.”

“Obviously.” You smirked, taking another drag. “Because you haven’t even said please. Or better yet, gotten down on one knee. A girl likes a little effort and action.”

He stepped forward, shadows casting over the red mask as he loomed over you. “Cut the act. I know you’ve been tailing Sionis. You were at the docks last Tuesday. You broke into Crane’s lab before that. You know something.”

You leaned in, closing the distance between you with a playful tilt of your head. “I always know something. It’s what makes me so charming.”

The mask he wore gave nothing away—no expression, no tells—but you didn’t need to see his face to know he was agitated. It was in the subtle things. The way his index finger tapped against the metal table with increasing tempo, and how his shoulders stayed bunched, tight beneath the weight of his jacket like he was holding himself back from lunging across the space between you.

The truth was, you wanted no part in this mess. If Sionis found out you were the one who spilled, he’d flay you alive—and not metaphorically. You’d seen what he did to traitors. Heard their screams echo down warehouse corridors long after their mouths had gone silent. And you quite liked your skin exactly where it was.

But… everything was worth the risk for the right price.

You let the silence stretch before continuing, voice dropping to a sultry murmur. “But where’s the fun in giving away answers for free? Maybe I want something in return. A kiss, perhaps? A dance? A few hours alone with your bike and a set of keys?”

He didn’t blink. “He’s moving weapons into the Narrows. Street-level. Military-grade tech. There are shelters there. Schools. Kids. Word on the street is he’s planning to launch an attack at one.”

Your smile faltered.

Just a flicker. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But Jason caught it.

He pressed in. “Yeah. You like to play games, but you’ve got a line, don’t you? A red one you don’t cross. Kids get hurt, you suddenly lose your appetite for chaos.”

Your gaze sharpened, flirtation bleeding out of you like smoke in the wind.

Well, fuck.

You hadn’t known that little tidbit.

You groaned and threw your head back with a frustrated growl.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll tell you—but if Sionis finds out, he’s going to skin my ass alive.”

The words tumbled out in one breath, fast and sharp.

“Three shipments came in through the old sewer system under Blackgate. Ex-military tech—non-traceable, high-end. This isn’t another drug run. He’s building something. A control hub. Surveillance and weapons grid in one. Real-time targeting.”

Jason didn’t interrupt.

You continued. “It’s not about money this time. He’s trying to root himself into Gotham’s infrastructure. Digital chokehold. Every gang that signs on gets a piece of the network—and every civilian caught in the middle becomes leverage.”

“Drones,” Jason muttered.

You shrugged. Your fingers tapped once against the metal chair, then stilled. “He’s testing it in the Narrows. Wants to see how many people he can disappear without a headline.”

Jason’s fists clenched.

You exhaled slowly, the edge in your tone quiet but unmistakable. “Look, I don’t give a shit what he does to people like us—we chose this life. But you’re right. I draw the line the second he drags kids into it.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. You stared the red helmet covering the Hood’s face wondering what he was thinking. 

Jason finally nodded. “Where’s the hub?”

You stamp out your cigarette. 

“I’ll take you.”

“You sure?”

You stood, brushing imaginary dust from your thighs. “I might be a lot of things, Hood. A thief. A liar. Sometimes a bitch, depending on the day. But I’m not a coward. And I don’t look away when innocents bleed.”

He nodded. “Then let’s go take him down.”

You smirk, your playful personality returning. “I’d say you owe me dinner after this.”

“I’m not taking you to that dive you like,” he said dryly, strapping his gun into place. “You’ll probably flirt with the bartender just to piss me off.”

You smirked wider, trailing after him as he stalked toward the exit. “Don’t be jealous. I’d still let you walk me home.”

He didn’t reply—just pushed open the door and let the night air sweep in, rain misting against his armor. But as you stepped out behind him, he glanced at you again, voice low beneath the hum of the city.

“Survive tonight… and maybe I’ll even let you pick dessert.”

Your eyes glittered.

“Oh, baby,” you purred, “you are dessert.”

[catt-nuevenor]

A Brief Guide on Uploading ChoiceScript Demos to Itch.io

Since Dashingdon is shutting down, and there will be a lot of folks wanting to host their ChoiceScript demos elsewhere, I thought it'd be a good idea to provide a brief guide on how to do so for itch.io.

This is for Windows in the folder actions, but it shouldn't be too difficult for folks to translate for Mac. This also assumes you haven't changed any of the files within your game folder other than those found under 'scenes'.

Within your game folder, locate the 'web' subfolder, right click it and select 'Send to' then 'Compressed (zipped) folder. Name your newly compressed file something sensible, and I recommend moving it to a new folder outside of your game files, just to keep everything neat and tidy.

2. Assuming you already have an itch.io account, navigate to your dashboard, and click the 'Create New Project' button.

3. Name your project as you like, and under 'Kind of project', select the 'HTML' option.

4. Set the 'Pricing' to 'No Payments', you cannot use ChoiceScript for profit unless it is with the Choice of Games or Hosted Games publishing labels. No one wants to get in trouble unnecessarily here.

5. In the Uploads section, upload your newly zipped file we made in step one. After it's finished uploading, you'll be given one drop down and two tick boxes. You need to tick the 'This file will be played in the browser' option.

6. I've found so far that 'Viewport dimensions' work quite well for desktop at 1080 x 640. Either use these numbers or experiment and find what works best for you.

7. You must tick the 'Enable scrollbars' option for your game to display properly, otherwise options, text and buttons can be clipped off the bottom of the viewport.

8. Continue filling out the rest of the form, or skip it for now and scroll all the way to the bottom to the 'Visibility & access' section. Here make sure you have 'Draft' selected. This prevents others from finding your game until you're ready, and I always recommend play testing things before you make your work public.

9. Finally, hit the 'Save' button, then go and have a look at your creation by hitting the 'View page' link. And there you go! When you're ready for public release, just change the option in section 8 to 'Public'.

---

A few things to bear in mind about hosting on itch.io:

There isn't currently any way for your readers to save their game. I'm sure someone could write in a plugin similar to Dashingdon's at some point, but as for right now, this isn't available. See addition/edit below.

Make sure you properly tag your game with the 'choicescript' and 'interactive-fiction' tags. There are an awful lot of games on itch.io and it's easy to get lost in the crowd. Make sure folks can find you by having the right tags.

I hope this brief guide was useful to folks.

Best of luck to you with your writing!

---

Addition/Edit:

Thanks to @hpowellsmith for bringing this to my attention. You can add save functionality to your game by using this addon:

The ChoiceScript Save Plugin

Just tried it out on my own game and it works perfectly.

Rather than run through the addon author's own tutorial here, I'll just forward you to the Readme on their Github page.

One small note I would add is when it asks you to make the two small additions to your index file, make sure you right click the file and open it with your coding program, don't double-click it as this will just open it in an internet browser, and it won't give you the access to what you need to change.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Special Assistance

⚖Pairing(s)⚖→ Andy Barber x male reader ⚠CW⚠→ gay-sex, gay, bottom male reader, top Andy Barber, cockwarming, daddy kink, age difference (the reader is 25 and Andy is 43), breeding, creampie, anal play, anal fingering, bondage (he uses his tie.), anal sex, sort of friends to lovers, and marking (biting and kissing.).  ⚖Rating⚖→ Explicit ⚖Request⚖→ Yes

⚖Word Count⚖→ 3.2k

⚖Summary⚖→ Life was spiraling out of control for Andy. His son got accused of murder and is trying to clear his name while fighting with his wife, which escalated to a divorce. The only thing he can look forward to is seeing his legal assistant. He found solace in your presence, but these feelings transformed into a deeper meaning.

Read before continuing: IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR ANY OF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! 

This fic does not follow the Defending Jacob series and stands on its own! I haven’t watched the show yet, so there might be some mistakes.

“You’re doing good, baby. Warming my cock like a good boy.” Andy purrs as he gives small thrusts into your tight heat. His hands roam your naked body as he licks and bites your nape area. His teeth grazing your skin, grip tightening as he starts thrusting faster into your ass. His heavy breathing brushes against your ear. 

“I’m the luckiest man to have an assistant like you. Taking my cock and finding everything I need. I love you so fucking much,” Andy said as he pulled your head back, smashing his lips against yours. You would return the gesture, but you weren’t listening to the older man's words. Your mind turned into mush from Andy’s cock hitting all the right places, his large and warm hands making contact with your skin, and the bites and kisses he marks on your skin. 

You gasped as Andy’s rough hand wrapped around your weeping cock. His thumb swirls around your cockhead, gathering the translucent precum and lathering your cock with it. The older man grins as he licks your neck, thrusting faster and encouraging you to hump his hand. 

It was euphoric to be in the hands of someone older and more experienced. His gentle touches, mixed with his roughness, were everything you wanted. Andy was loving and had some dominance in him. He was a lawyer, and the stress of the profession and having to find a way to clear his name was stressful. Thankfully, he had you, his young, loving, and submissive boyfriend. Sometimes, you remember the memories and moments that led to the scene you are in now. 

It’s been almost a year since it happened. 

One year ago

You had been friends with Andy for a long time. You first met him when you got your bachelor’s in paralegal studies and ended up as his assistant. The two of you became friends after a while. Something clicked when you met him. Andy didn’t notice, but you certainly did. However, you never engaged because the older man was married and had a kid. It was also unprofessional for an assistant to pin after their boss.

Everything was going great for the most part, although you couldn’t get your feelings to change. If anything, they only worsened as Andy always praised you or gave you a slight touch. His affirmations and physical touch made your cock ache– maybe touch starved - and being lonely best described you. You always craved his touch and the words of affirmation from Andy, who was dominant but loving towards you.  He saw you as a son, mainly due to the age difference. 

Then it happened. You heard the news that Andy’s son, Jacob, was accused of murder and was swiftly arrested, awaiting trial. You watched the older man going into overdrive as he tried to clear his son’s name of the accusation. He had you conduct research, draft the documents, collect the evidence, etc. He was stressed, but it only got worse. 

You didn’t know the full details, but Andy and his wife were getting divorced. You assumed it was because Jacob was accused and the older man worked so much that he neglected his wife. Andy now has to deal with Jacob, and a divorce is the final nail in the coffin. 

The divorce proceeding went swiftly and dividing the assets was quick, but the trial for Jacob’s innocence was still going. Andy turned to you for relief and comfort. You would sometimes wake up at odd hours of the night to loud banging outside. Opening the door, you were often met with a disheveled Andy, his hair and clothing messed up as he wobbled into your living room. He would blabber and cry as he laid on the couch, and being the good friend you were, you comforted and soothed the older man. 

Andy was grateful for your presence and comfort during the hardest time in his life. You even reprimanded him for overworking and drinking too much. You were a rock for him, a foundation on which he could stand. It was during a time like this that the older man began reevaluating his feelings for you. He knew he was bisexual but never had any attraction to you. He only saw it as a platonic relationship.

As time passed, the older man began to notice things he never did about you; little quirks and some physical attributes. He found it cute, sometimes catching himself checking you out. Andy would glance whenever you tripped, getting a good view of your ass. The way your tight dress pants would hug your ass was boner-popping. 

Whenever you would leave for lunch, Andy would sit back and unzip his pants, pulling his aching cock and stroking it, letting his imagination run wild. The older man would imagine you laid out on his desk, naked and heaving, your body covered with his marks and cum, and your eyes filled with want and lust as you beg for him. 

“Fucking hell.” Andy moans as he fucks his hand, imagining it's you beneath him and his hand is your ass. The older man’s groans bounced off the wall, precum oozed from his cockslit; spreading the liquidy substance all over his cock, making it easier to thrust into his hand. He imagines you moaning for him, crying for him to go faster.

“Of course, baby, anything for you.” Andy groans as he fucks his hand faster. His heavy balls slapping against his hands… plap, plap, plap, plap. He imagines you crying from his large cock hitting your bundle of nerves deep inside your ass. The older man licks his lips as he feels his balls tightening, cum rushing to erupt out of the cockslit. 

The older man’s imagination then flashed to him and you kissing as he gave one thrust and bred you. In the real world, Andy gave one thrust into his hand, ropes of pearly cum squirted out, painting his suit and beard with the thick white liquid. He was breathing hard from his most intense orgasm yet. 

Post-nut clarity set in: he had jerked off to his friend, whom he considered to be his son, and nothing else. Andy didn’t feel bad though, something in him was telling him that it was alright. The age difference was notable, he was eighteen years your senior. He should feel ashamed, but he didn’t– he felt thrilled. 

The next few days left Andy confused about his feelings. Everything you did for him, he liked it —no, he loves you! He enjoyed being around you and being in your presence. He loved you and lusted for you! Andy kept telling himself he wouldn’t jerk off to thoughts of you in compromised positions, but that was a lie. 

For every day, for the next few weeks, the older man would jerk his cock to you. He would have multiple orgasms a day, but no more how many times, his cock was still hard. It was like he was a teenager again, discovering the world of gay porn. Nothing worked, he needed the real thing, he needed you. 

A week later

It was another hang-out, like always, with Andy coming over for dinner and chilling while watching movies or doing random stuff in your room. You didn’t know what led to this moment, but you were pinned down on your bed by the older man, his calloused hands holding yours down. You could feel Andy’s scruffy beard grinding against yours as his lips pressed against yours. 

Andy’s body was grinding against yours. You could feel his large cock straining in his pants. “You taste delicious,” the older man says as he lets out a breathy groan before diving back into your mouth. His tongue pushes past your teeth and invades your oral cavity. It was easy for Andy to establish his dominance over you. 

It was hot. The sensation of Andy’s cock grinding against yours, the heated kiss, and the heavy breathing was making your cock painfully erect and throbbing. The older man pulled back and looked at you– it was everything he imagined. Your body is disheveled: your hair is messed up and tangled, your lips are swollen with drool coating around them, and your soft pants as you try to calm down. The sight served to make Andy’s cock harder. 

Without wasting any time, Andy began stripping. He hastily took off his clothes, fumbling with his zipper before his glorious body was fully exposed to you. Without fear of receiving backlash, you admired and gazed upon the older man’s body. Your delusional dreams before Andy’s divorce weren’t so delusional after all. 

Andy’s body was huge. The older man grinds as you admire his body. He started to flex his muscles, showing his large biceps. He had chiseled abs that looked sculpted by God himself, you just wanted to trace your tongue against them. His pectorals looked big too, most likely hard but soft to touch and grope. He’s also very hairy, especially around his pecs and abdomen area– a happy trail leading down to his crotch and pubic region.

Speaking of the crotch region, Andy’s cock was perfect: size, thickness, and eavy hanging balls, swollen with so much cum. You could tell that he likes keeping his groin groomed and not too hairy– just how you like it. 

“Come on, darling. Don’t leave me hanging.” Andy says as he pulls you closer to him. His hands roam your body as he removes your clothing until your naked divine body is revealed to him. The older man drinks in your appearance– magnificent and perfect. He doesn’t know why he was blind to you before, but it's better that he realized now than never. 

He held you closer to him, worshipping your body with his mouth and hands. One of his legs pushed between your legs as he laid you down on the bed. You gasp softly as Andy’s hands squeeze your hips and knead the flesh of your ass. His mouth sucks and bites around your neck, making sure he leaves his mark on your body. You start humping his thick thigh, grinding your throbbing cock and smearing precum all over Andy’s thigh. 

“Can I do this?” Andy says, pulling himself off of you and gesturing to his tie. You knew what the older man was thinking and agreed on the spot. Andy uses the tie and wraps it around your wrists, putting you in bondage. He tightens it but makes sure it wasn’t tight enough to hurt you. The fantasies the older man had about you were coming true. 

“There’s lube on the nightstand,” you said, moving your head in the direction. Andy nods and reaches out for it. He grabs the bottle and pops it open, squirting a generous amount of the substance on his fingers. One hand gripping your tied wrists while the other one went down to your ass. 

You start breathing heavily as you feel Andy’s thick fingers circling the rim of your hole. Biting your lips as this was the first time you’ve had sex. “I need you to calm down, baby boy. Breathe.” Andy says as he kisses your knee. Your body started to relax, allowing Andy to slowly push his thick fingers in. 

Air was kicked out of your lungs as you felt the older man’s thick digits push deeper into your tight heat. Your moans got louder with each time Andy thrust his fingers deeper. Arching your back as you felt yourself riding his thick digits.  Following what you were doing, Andy began thrusting them faster– each time you pushed down, Andy pushed up. 

Suddenly, one particular thrust caused you to ascend to a higher plane. You scream in pleasure and Andy correctly assumes that that must be your prostate. The older man began making sure to hit that same spot, memorizing it. You feel your cock was about to erupt, Andy was gonna give you an anal orgasm. However, the older man didn’t want that. He wanted you to cum from and on his dick. 

Andy pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his large cock. He slowly sinks in, groaning and biting his lips as his cock is swallowed by your tight and warm hole. The older man pushed until he was completely inside, his heavy balls pressing against your ass. This was better than any pussy Andy had had. It was tight but not tight enough to where it felt like his dick was being suffocated. He always wanted to try anal but his wife declined.  He never pushed the topic and just buried the thought of anal sex. 

Whatever level of ascension Andy set with his fingers paled in comparison to his cock. You were higher than ever before; on a different plane of existence. Your ass was filled to the brim with the older man’s cock. You could feel every vein and crevice of Andy’s cock. It felt like the puzzle piece you’ve been looking for all your life was found and connected with yours. Your moans could be heard throughout the apartment building, you are most likely gonna receive noise complaints tomorrow. 

Andy gave you time to adjust to his size. It felt like he was going to burst instantly. Your ass tightened around him with a vice grip. His breathing got heavier as he didn’t want to cum just yet and leave you unsatisfied. After a few minutes, you permit Andy to move. 

“J-Jesus Christ… fucking hell… you feel so good baby.” Andy moans as his hands grip your hips. He began giving slow thrusts, sliding his cock in and out your tight ass softly, his thickness stretching you perfectly and his cockhead teasing your prostate. Your cock was weeping, oozing precum over your abdomen as it twitched back to life. 

His thrust got faster as Andy felt himself being consumed by the pleasure. “My God… Oh fuck yes.” Andy’s eyes roll back as he slows down, giving slow but powerful thrusts. His grip tightens as he feels your hole becoming tighter around him and it feels like his cock is melting. Your hands grip the sheets during a short pause before your bundle of nerves are hit again but Andy’s cockhead. 

“Daddy!” you scream before covering your mouth and realizing what you said. You thought Andy would be turned off as he stopped midway. Your face was flustered as you tried to explain that it was mistaken, but the air was punched out as Andy started thrusting fast. “Call me daddy again, baby boy. Call me daddy.” Andy moans as he lost himself and fucks you like a wild beast. Ramming his cock deeper into your depths and abusing your prostate. You could feel your body becoming overstimulated.

“D-daddy! F-feels so good~ making me feel so good~” You cry as your back arches. You start to push back, meeting Andy’s thrusts. The older man’s groans grow louder, “I know, baby. You love daddy how is fucking this tight ass? This?” Andy said before slapping your thigh, grinning as he watches the flesh jiggle from the impact. “This ass belongs to me.”

You could hear the sounds of Andy’s heavy balls slapping against your ass, your groans and moans mixing with his to become a symphony of gay sex. Your cock was bobbing and slapping against your abdomen. “Yeah, you like that? You love daddy’s cock don’t you?” the older man growls as he leans down and starts sucking your neck, leaving marks to show that you belonged to him. 

“I love your cock, daddy~ So perfect! It fills me perfectly~” you cry as you wrap your arms around Andy, pulling the older man closer to you. Andy became deaf to everything, only hearing your moans and cries for him– calling him daddy as he fucks your ass, but more soppily. His cock was throbbing inside and balls were tightening as he was ready to bust his load. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Want me to cum inside this ass? Breed you till my cum oozes out this hole.” Andy growls as he bites and nimbles your neck softly. “Y-yes! Yes, p-please… oh god… inside! B-breed me, breed me, breed me!” You cried desperately, your hole tightening to milk Andy’s large cock of its cum, your fingers digging into the older man’s back. You move one of your hands from your side to jerk your weeping cock, wanting to cum with the older man. 

“Almost there baby… cum!” Andy growls as he sinks his teeth into your skin, digging them as he wants to leave a permanent mark. He gave one last thrust before a wave of cum floods your hole. Your velvet walls were painted white as the older man kept filling you with his thick cum. Your cock spurts its load after the feeling of being bred and marked was the breaking point. Your chest was painted with your thick pearly substance. 

You could feel Andy’s larger body collapsing on top of yours. It was quiet besides the heavy panting and breathing. You both bask in each other's presence. Andy slowly pulls out, a loud plop sound echoing with cum gushing out your gaping hole. You whimper at the feeling of being empty and hug the older man tighter. A moment of silence falls over the room before you speak.

“I love you, Andy– daddy~” you say, saying daddy in a teasing tone. Andy laughs before returning the same gesture. “I love you too, baby.”  

Ever since that day, you and Andy have been in a relationship. About 7 months into the relationship, the older man asked if you wanted to move in with him, and you gleefully accepted. He did have rules for you; you were to be naked at all times, only dressed whenever guests arrived. Andy wanted to have full access to you. He also wanted you to cockwarm him while he worked and did your research. For a man his age, Andy was certainly horny, fucking in every corner of his house. 

You didn’t mind at all, as long as you got to be with him. 

THE END

A/n: hello, my strawberries! I hope you enjoy this fic! Took me a while due to procrastination. Also had to watch a porn video of a guy humping a pillow and moaning… the things fanfiction writers look up and watch.  TAGLIST: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation @ghostking4m @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @your-cow-boy @mack-thedork @starboye @boypied @geminiflanagan69 Very special thanks to my proofreader; @sagethegaywitch Join my taglist!

[randomshyperson]

hiii😸

i wanna request wanda with hugs no. 31😻 ur fluff is so good i want to bash my head into the wall

/pos

hope u get free from ur writer's block!!😻

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging while straddling the partner | words: 2066k | warnings: (+18), dark(ish)!wanda, smut, bottom!reader, dom!wanda mainly, implied variant death sorry, but happy ending for the main.

a/n-> this is the last one actually, i got my drafts confused if you saw more in the masterlist you didn't. i won't be posting anything for a while now just to write new series but I won't be gone for long I hope.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

-&-

Considering all the things that had happened until she reached this moment, Wanda expected there to be more noise.

Fighting. Or even pain.

Two years and six hundred and eighty-four universes and she had finally found you.

Not a fallen hero version, not an evil clone, not a dead wife.

Just you, available, alive and asleep.

The room was dimly lit by the rays of sunlight that passed through the half-open curtain. Her variant must have gotten up early to prepare breakfast, and Wanda took complete control before she could even open the door. She took in little of the room, mostly focused on your sleeping figure in the bed in the corner, peaceful and vulnerable.

Five universes ago a variant of you had tried to arrest her for crimes against the multiverse, so this calmness was quite the bonus.

She quickly inspected the most recent memories before the deepest ones. This Wanda didn't know she loved you like that, not yet. Young and naive, this variant was rewarded with an entire childhood and adolescence by your side. Friends since kindergarten, the deep intimacy between you was beautiful to watch. Easy to envy.

It was a sadistic joke that in all the universes, she was the only one having a miserable life.

Controlling her own irritation, Wanda pushed those memories away and sighed deeply. You moved, searching for her warmth in the mattress and she wondered if your variant was already sure of what she knew many universes ago. You were made for each other.

She watched you with some curiosity. She still wasn't sure how she would do it. She hardly had a clear plan. She took very deliberate actions now, which was probably why she always ended up with some wizard on the way, close to some interdimensional prison.

But as you woke up, Wanda felt around that reality. There was magic like most, but it wasn't as strong even in the body she occupied now. This Wanda was a beginner witch, with simple levitation or tarot tricks that she could use to make you laugh in admiration.

Your sleepy figure finally opened its eyes, felt the bed, turned your face, and faced her standing in the middle of the room. Wanda felt so small, not at all like the great Scarlet Witch. She was almost like a child, eager to please. To be liked. When you frowned at her, she wondered if you were already able to tell she was a fraud, an impostor.

But your expression softened, and you chucked hoarsely.

 "Were you watching me sleep? Creep."

Oh, you had no idea.

Wanda swallowed, forcing a chuckle. "I wasn't." She lies quickly, pushing away emotional nausea as your tousled-haired, sleepy-eyed figure brings back similar memories of a life she doesn't know how to get back. She clears her throat and looks away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just going to get breakfast. Do you want anything?"

"Yeah." You chuckle relaxedly, patting the mattress as you rest your elbows on the bed, your back against the headboard. "Come back to bed. It's too damn early."

She sees it then, when the sheet loses in your body and she catches a glimpse of your neck full of purple marks. The most recent memories are indeed different from what she searched for before. Peeking again, it's a bit overwhelming to be invaded by the sensations of your kisses and groping all at once, a night of steamy making out in that bed, after a college party that ended long after the time you and the variant returned to this dorm. Wanda sighs, realizing that this body misses your touch just as much as she does. So addictive for every single one of her, no matter the universe.

But her silence brings a hesitation to your face, and you settle better in bed. 

"Hey, if this is about last night..." You begin, a little awkwardly with a nervous giggle. One of your hands pushes your hair back in a nervous gesture, and Wanda gasps softly. The tattoo on her forearm has very familiar symbols. She searched every corner of the multiverse and ended up with a punk covered in protective runes. This was Strange's work, of course. He was probably going to as many worlds as she was. Protecting variants before Wanda could reach them. Take them for herself. You, oblivious to the whole thing, kept talking. "It's okay if you regret it. We don't even have to talk about it if it's weird. I mean, if you want we can even go back to being just friends, I definitely don't want to lose-"

"You're not." She cuts you off, taking steps towards the bed. You fall silent in surprise, but Wanda forces a smile. "Where did you get that tattoo again?"

You frown at the sudden change of subject, stammering a little as you try to remember and then finally laugh, looking at her with some confusion. "It's just reindeer, remember? That strange woman made it for us at the beach last week. It should go away soon."

Wanda searched a little more and found the memory you mentioned. Beach, friends, witches she didn't know, that this variant didn't know how to perceive yet. A witch using the opportunity to draw protective spells on your skin as if she could read the danger in your future.

She took a deep breath and walked closer until she felt her shins hit your bed.

"Maybe you should take it off now."

You hum absently, looking at the tattoo. "Why? I liked it. You also said it was pretty. Maybe I could even make it permanent-"

"No!" She snaps back through gritted teeth, startling you a little. Forcing a smile then, Wanda considers the options. She probably can't mess with your memory right now, maybe she can keep you calm, until she finds an appropriate solution. "I just... I think your first tattoo should be something more meaningful, sweetheart. And not some cheap art from a charlatan, huh?"

You frown, before your chucle again, looking at her with confusion. "Wanda, are you high?" We got our first tattoos together in high school. Have you really forgotten that?" You look upset. Wanda hates this. Hates it with all her might. Out of everything she’s ever done, hurting you is probably the most painful and stupid thing she ever did.

She shakes her head, forcing a giggle. She bends her knees and crawls towards you, which immediately wipes the frown off your face.

Young people and their hormones.

“Oh, babe, I just got confused. I’m sorry.” She begins, and you swallow hard as she takes her place on your lap. Your hands hesitate on the mattress until Wanda grabs them and moves to her waist. “Don’t be upset.”

With your mouth dry, you try, “I’m not.” but it comes out so hoarse that Wanda wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been so close. Her hands close behind your head, and you wait for her to make the first move like the good girl you’ve always been no matter what universe.

Wanda shouldn’t risk it, but she can’t resist. You seem so eager for her to do it too that she doesn’t have the heart not to. The kiss starts out innocent, tentative. She wants to know the extent of the protection runes, and eventually, she realizes that you were right about the ink coming off. Wanda manages to turn you into a mess of breathless whispers as she slides her tongue against yours, and once your arms are tightening around her waist, invading beneath her shirt, she can feel the runes melting in your skin, until finally, she feels no magic resistance. You are all hers to play with.

But like everything else she’s done, Wanda didn’t quite calculate what kissing you would do to her. The effect on her body is ridiculously incapacitating and distracting. She knows she should be muttering spells, but all that comes out of her mouth are affected gasps. Your hands move down, grabbing her ass and grinding her against your lap and Wanda forgets what she came here to do.

"I cannot believe..." You groan suddenly, between one kiss and another. "That we've gone so long without doing this." Wanda bites your lip, pulling and making you whimper, the sound sending a sharp throb through her belly. Your dilated pupils stare at her with such adoration that Wanda needs a moment.

She remembers those looks. She remembers everything. And it's only fair that you remember too.

Coming closer, she kisses you more fervently now. Enough to make you squirm on the mattress, trying to pull her down, increase the friction between your hips. But Wanda knows the passion will turn, so she controls the kiss, controls everything.

One of her hands wraps around your hair, and she's still kissing you, taking the air from your lungs as the first memories dance in flashes behind your eyes.

You frown in confusion, trying to pull away, but Wanda kisses you again, and again until you gasp in shock and her magic goes deeper into your mind, invading you without you even realizing it.

Wanda's free hand suddenly goes inside your pants and you gasp against her mouth, surprised by the touch before surrendering completely to her.

Wanda pants into your mouth, and red irises glare at you when you break the kiss with a moan. She's not gentle, her fingers pushing your panties aside and not bothering to collect much of the surrounding moisture before sinking inside, filling you up all at once. She twists her hand, pushing deeper and you whimper into her mouth. Oh, how Wanda missed feeling you like this, coming undone against her fingers. 

There’s a flash of memories again, of a team of heroes and a battle, but Wanda adjusts her hand and her palm presses against your clit, and you break into a moan and throw your head forward on her shoulder. She hums in satisfaction, the hand that’s not inside your pants moving past your hair, to your back in an attempt to calm you. 

The memories will get worse, you’ll remember everything eventually. 

Wanda knows that sooner or later you will- Your hand wraps around her throat suddenly. She’s startled, of course, but the sound sounds much more like a moan than a protest of pain. Your eyes glow the same scarlet as hers, and the once-innocent expression carries a maturity that only memories of a lifetime could give you. Your hips are still moving—hard and fast against her hand, but Wanda feels much less in charge. You squeeze her neck as you come, and she feels so ridiculously turned on that she can barely move her fingers, being used up in the final waves of your climax. Not a second later, your hand pushes hers away, and her body is pushed next. Pressed against the bed with you on top, instead of holding her neck, you hold both your hands above her head.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on, but this is a very welcome way to bring someone back to life."

She chuckles affectedly, with emotion, with lust. A little - a lot - of both. But in the end, emotion wins. The tears in her eyes are indeed from longing.

"It's so good to see you again, darling." She says hoarsely, her hands still clasped on top of her head.

You sigh, loosening your grip without letting go of her. "Wanda, how..." But she looks like she'll start crying, for real, if you have to explain. You sigh again in defeat and soften your gaze. "How about that coffee? And you explain everything to me calmly."

She nods, smiling tearfully. "You'll have to get off of me first." She jokes, but you look at her mouth and get a little closer to her face. 

"Yeah, in a minute. I don't know how long it's been, honey, but you've managed to get even more stunning." 

She laughs shyly. "Good to know you're still a flirt." 

"Only with my girl." That's what you say before closing the distance. Wanda doesn't need to think about anything or worry as long as she has this. No multiverse, no possible dead variants. She has you, and that's all that matters.

[cherie-doll]

how do you think the cod men would react to you hiding an injury (from a mission) from them?

(annoyed i had a draft of this ready but my laptop decided to act up and i lost it, so i had to rewrite it again)

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Hiding An Injury From Them

ઇଓ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

it wasn't until after the mission that he noticed you clutching your side, your hand curved protectively over the wound that was surely getting worse by the minute or so he feared

he insisted on taking you to the medic right away, and as you were being examined he stayed right outside the room, he really wished you had told him, he was captain so he had to know if one of his had been injured

you were left to rest but the next day he came back, when you awoke he was there by your bedside, "why didn't you tell me?"

he just wants you to know that you need to trust him, he's more worried than anything on why you didn't come to him, did you not trust him?

Ghost

while you were seeking shelter he noticed the way you limped, you hadn't said anything but anyone who looked at you could see how terribly you tried to hide your pain

he sighs and trudges towards you, as if annoyed he has to do this, but he takes you aside and has you show him the injury, it wasn't as bad as he thought it was which is why he's a little relieved

as he bandages you up he's mostly silent, he wanted to scold you, to say something to get this feeling off his chest but when you gasp in pain when his fingers apply too much pressure he can't bring himself to be annoyed at you

you're left feeling the phantom touch of his fingers and how he gentled when he saw you wince in pain

Soap

you two were almost always assigned together or ended up finding one another and watching each other's back, so you were always in his subconscious; he just couldn't let anything happen to you

yet, in the blink of an eye it had happened, you brushed it off as being just fine, that it was only the debris and nothing more, nothing vital had been hit

but when you went back to base and he didn't see you around for a couple of days and found out you had been sent to recovery he rushed to find you, "you told me you were fine!", and he's upset you weren't honest when he asked

you two were a team...always working together so he definitely gets cross about the matter for a little while afterwards but not for long because he's still checking up and asking how you're holding up

Gaz

when you were a rookie you went to him for almost everything, he was the one you felt safest with and he had treated you with the most respect even if you were still learning and made mistakes

so he couldn't help but feel forgotten or sidelined when you didn't tell him about your injury, in fact, you weren't planning on telling anyone because you didn't want to make a 'big deal' out of it, you had been doing so well and you didn't want anyone to know you had messed up

yet, he found you taking painkillers and stuffing rags of blood down to the bottom of the trashcan, "how long have you been covering this?!" as he rushed to take care of it for you

he was stunned to find out you had been trying to take care of it yourself, still he remained patient as he somewhat understand why you did it

Roach

he went into panic thinking something worse would happen if you didn't tell someone right away, but you tried to tell him it wasn't that bad as a knife was sticking out of your leg

neither of you knew what to do other than informing someone, as help was on the way he shushed you and was 'calming' you down when you weren't even showing distress

he loves being helpful when he can so he stuck around to see if there was anything you needed whether that be emotional support or medicine; he was ready to help

Alejandro

he'd mutter a few curses before ordering some soldiers around to get an emergency kit, you try to move into a more comfortable position but he scolds you to hold it, you're making it worse

"this is serious you idiot, stuff like this can't be held off until later" and he might go off into a long rant but really he's trying to distract his mind as he cleans your wound and wraps it

he implements a new rule; everyone must report what they're doing or what has happened to them at all times during a mission, doesn't matter if they're taking a dump or if they got a papercut they gotta report that too

really he's just worried you'll get hurt and he won't be there in time to aid you

Rudy

he's all over you, anxious and troubled that one, you were injured and second, you were intentionally hiding it from him! he's more disappointed than anything

"i'm so sorry, you'll be fine.. i promise" he comforts as you're being patched up and treated, it probably hurt him more than you but you swear he's being a little over the top

back at base, there is not a day that goes by without him coming by to see you and bringing something for you, he doesn't even get mad at you for trying to hide the injury from him, he most likely forgot

Phillip Graves

"no, no- fuck, why?!" he focused in on solely you when a soldier told him about the injury you were trying to hide, but he cares too much, and you've seen how he is with his Shadows, of course he wouldn't let something like this slip by him

doesn't matter if you can walk yourself but you're not doing anything without assistance anymore until you're completely healed, it's sort of heartwarming in a way

he makes it very clear that this doesn't happen again, and you think he's talking about the injury but no he's referring to you hiding that you're hurt, he doesn't mind offering help he just doesn't want you suffering in silence

Makarov

he can't help but feel guilty, he should've known the risk for sending you out there and now the result is you needing emergency care, thankfully you weren't in too much pain

still, to him this is very serious, "this is serious! tell me what happened, who did it?", he's ready to go out there and find the bastard who had the audacity to do this, but you tell him it was kind of your own fault because everything had gone well it was actually due to your clumsiness that you had stumbled and hurt yourself on the way back

he doesn't know if that's another lie but since you seem better now he'll take it

Keegan

you've seen how much he yells during missions, so you know you're in for a reprimand the moment he figures out you're hurt, it's just a matter of time until he notices

strangely, when he does notice the blood through your clothes his eyes only widen as he points out the stained cloth and then gets to work silently as he uncovers the wound

you nervously try to tell him it's not that bad and he shouldn't be fussing over it but he just rolls his eyes, "not that bad you say? are you even looking at it?"

yeah it was pretty bad

König

he gets nervous the moment you show the slightest sign of discomfort so it's no strange that you'd hide an injury he's surely freak out over, you just don't want to cause him to lose focus

little do you know, the other soldiers are his eyes and ears as they report to him your injuries, he comes and says it's best you go back to base a little earlier, you protest thinking it's not fair that the others have sustained worse injuries yet they still have to keep going forward with the mission

but he just wants to prevent you from getting hurt worse and being so far away from a medic who could treat you end up with terrible health complications

Horangi

you and him tended to play around during missions, as if not taking them seriously, until it resulted in you getting hurt, he went serious after that even though to tried brushing it off

he could see you tense up a bit, your body sensitive to the throbbing pain that was begging to be taken care of, you needed rest and you weren't going to give it what it needed, he really wished he could be more caring and nurturing in this moment

he can only tell you to breathe slowly, to focus on the stars above you right now and hope you got to a medic soon, he wants you to realize you're not fine and that this could have been prevented, if only he had been more on guard

Nikto

he's seen people get their arm blown off, maybe even lose a leg and he barely bats an eye at it, so why is he constantly looking over at you who seems to be suppressing pain?

to him if blood isn't noticeable then it's no reason for alarm, and even then a little blood never hurt anyone, but your throbbing pain only gets stronger and he can see it in your eyes, the desperation and how you wish you had painkillers right now

while everyone else is asleep he orders you to tell him what's hurting and he tries his best to take care of it, he's built a high pain tolerance over the years but will feel disquieted when you appear worn out

[nouearth]

candy-wasted.

john krasinski x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. with halloween coming to a disappointing end, what's a better way to end the holiday than to get candy-wasted on john's offer of his king-sized candy bar?

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 6.7k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 domestic!au 〳 halloween!au 〳 husband!john 〳 established relationship 〳 kissing 〳 sexual content: top!john, bottom!reader, anal penetration, rough!sex, no prep, breeding, spitting, blowjob (r!giving), pain kink, slapping, spanking, armpit fetish, humiliation, degradation, body worship, cock worship, over-stimulation, extremely hung!john.

“Think that might be the last of ‘em,” John said, shutting the front door and turning off the porch light. “Not a single Lydia Deetz, Ennui, Deadpool, or Wolverine costume in sight.”

It was Halloween night.

Declaring Halloween as your favorite holiday would be unjust to the true fanatics. More than anything, you loved the celebration for the atmosphere. You loved the smell of autumn coming into full bloom by virtue of artificial cinnamon and apple in soy candles rather than the fresh leaves withering outside. You loved driving by neighborhoods to see all the houses that had been decorated, fictionalizing a house-decorating competition in the process. You loved how spooky TV would get, from horror movies to reruns of old sitcom episodes that had a Halloween theme.

Most important of all, you loved taking your kids out to trick or treat with John, watching them outgrow their costumes every year and growing teary-eyed at the likelihood that they’d eventually stop having you and John come along with them in favor of their friends.

Even though you mentally prepared yourself for the moment, you weren’t expecting this year to be the time where your son and daughter would tell you that they would be sleeping over at a friend’s for the celebration. As if there was any option for you and John to protest too, it suddenly struck you how quickly they were becoming their own person, because they had already packed their bags the night before.

But also—damn you, for raising them to be so direct.

When John returned back to the couch, you glanced at the bowl.

“Do kids these days not go trick-or-treating anymore? We’re doing less refills than usual,” You took the half-empty bowl from him and rummaged through the assorted candy bars. “When I was a kid, I used to circle my neighborhood multiple times because I was determined to not end the night with a barren bucket. I also knew my parents would steal from my stash whenever I was asleep, so that was another incentive to prolong the pain in my little kid legs.”

You knew you were babbling and were beyond caring. From the smile John gave you, he seemed more entertained by the endless vault of childhood stories than the horror marathon you two had started since six o’clock in the evening.

“All those candy runs seem to be paying off considering your calves are the size of bowling balls,” John laughed, arranging your legs to lay them across his lap as you resumed lounging. To prove his point, he began unzipping your costume’s pant leg one-by-one, ventilating your ankles and calves finally free from the tight spandex.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the draft in the air chilled the sweat on your skin, then another, when John’s large hands began stroking and kneading at your legs. You probably should have guessed that John had other intentions in mind since his hands only traveled north, in which your calves were nowhere to be found.

But what would be the fun in calling out your lover’s extremely apparent advances? For a brief moment, you two sat in silence, putting the TV on mute because the marathon had run its course, but also to hear the sound of John’s hands, calloused, warm, and large over the plane of your body, exploring you and the ribbed costume like he was learning texture for the first time.

It had been quite a long time since it was this quiet in the house. You had to have accidentally said it out loud, or John’s telepathic abilities were only awakened on Halloween night, because he was looking at you like you had whet his appetite, hazel eyes cataloguing your body like it was a dirty magazine, lips bitten in secrecy.

“What’s on your mind, Captain America?” You let your legs wrap around John’s waist when he pulled you to sit on his lap, fixing his tousled hair with a smooth swoop of your hand, and affectionately squeezed his large shoulders after.

God, John filled out his costume so well. No wonder you couldn’t stop glancing at him throughout the night, the tactical suit made him look much larger and imposing—you couldn’t help but run your hands all over his body and his tight muscles beneath the fabric, the contoured lines of the costume was practically inviting you to do so.

“I’m thinking… the neighborhood is quiet. I’m thinking that the kids are preparing for bed, and that the parents are drunk off their children’s candy stash, which means you can finally take it easy for tonight, Spider-Man.” John’s smile was terribly broad. You could feel him fiddling with the pull tab on the back of your costume with one hand while the other was caressing the side of your thigh, nearing dangerously closer to your rump.

It was a cheap costume that ran for no more than forty bucks, which meant you could feel the heat radiating off of John’s palm.

“Take it easy? I’ve been taking it easy. I got my popcorn, some king-sized candy bars, a scary flick, a rather inquisitive man holding me…” You shivered when his hand paused on your right buttock and squeezed. “Nothing’s beating this right now.”

He began kissing your neck, his beard ticklish and feathery over your flesh. “Really? Nothing at all?” Both of his hands were on your rump now, massaging tenderly at the handful of thick flesh in his palms.

You must have indulged in the warmth and strength of John’s grip on you for far too long, because out of the blue, he began knocking the silence out of you with strong smacks to your ass, drawing out a collection of moans and grunts from you as he fixated on marking up your neck until your mouth was in vicinity.

When his strong palms came down onto your cheeks again, your lips parted at the right moment he would seize them, capturing your mouth for a slow, languid kiss. John’s lips tasted like a celebration. You could feel the crumbs of sugar from the fruit ropes he was eating prior roll off his lips and onto your tongue, flavoring the kiss of green apple. You moaned, gently holding at both ends of his jaw, while your hips grew conscious of how your body was reacting to John’s tongue invading your mouth, pressing your growing tent against his pelvis with slow rolls, pushing your ass out to meet his hands.

“Nothing at all, unless…” You groaned when the stinging over your covered ass was only heightened by the unrelenting grasp John had on your ample skin. If he wasn’t so busy tonguing your mouth open, you wouldn’t be surprised to find him tearing your costume into two within the next second. “You have something to bestow upon me?”

“Ever heard of a monster-sized candy bar? I got one that’s filled with vanilla cream for you, specifically curated to your taste buds. What do you think? I’ll trade ya’.” The spirit of Halloween affected him as he laughed into the kiss, the tip of his nose crinkling in effect and swiping over yours when he resumed in exploring your mouth.

“I think it sounds like a trick, you a con-man?” You lightly pushed at his chest to break from the kiss, then lingered to silently admire his well-built pecs. You weren’t sure if you were more turned on by John’s hard-work and dedication, or the fantasy of him as a superhero—saving you from your ultimate demise.

Regardless, your hips only rutted harder, swooping low to brush your erection against his, then raising them high, to grind your rump over his arousal.

“Keep moving your hips like that, and you’ll find the answer soon.”

An inquisitive hand of yours reached in between John’s thighs. It didn’t take long, hardly a millisecond, to find what you’d been searching for.

The mass in your palm was overwhelmingly large and thick. You felt your throat go dry when the weight of John’s bulge was heavy enough to unfurl itself within his suit, across his right thigh, and reach to a point of hardness where one hand of yours found it impossible to tame it alone.

You stroked the enormous print, focusing on the apparent head with your thumb, and then squeezed. Hard.

“Fuck, (M/N). Upstairs, now.”

As you sat on your knees, the scent of arousal filled your nostril. There was something enthralling about this position, being bare and naked on the carpet, while you were looking up at John’s hard cock through your lashes. He was already monstrous enough, but the angle from below provided insight just exactly how jaw-dropping his size was.

“I’m sorry I doubted you, Captain. What would you like in exchange?” Bracing your hands on his strong calves, you nuzzled the underside of his erection. You sucked in a breath at the smell of it. The heat and musk built from a long day of work, finally released out into the air, tickled your nose pleasantly and made your mouth water. “‘Three musketeers?’ ‘Butterfingers?’ ‘Hershey’s?’” You slapped his heavy cock over your lips, mouthing over the tender spots of his glans.

He had his arms behind his head, exhaling slow and steady, sporting an expression that told you he was the luckiest man alive, not that you needed that affirmation, as you held his cock tight around the base and suckled at the plump, pink tip. “How about ‘(M/N)’s Pieces?’ Yeah? Is that up for grabs?”

You could feel his hairy thighs tense up when you taunted him with the tiniest licks over his heavy, full balls. It was amusing, watching his cock jolt over your face—like they were envious of such half-hearted actions.

“You mean, the candy that would make a kind and handsome dad, such as yourself, turn into a ferocious beast of a man?” Holding John’s lustful gaze, you took a long and slow lick at the underside of his shaft, the girth of it thicker than the width of your tongue.

You felt complacent when he let out a hoarse moan upon pressing your nose deep into his cock-slit, inhaling deep. “Yeah, that one…”

You traced the prominent veins on his cock with your tongue—thick, pumping blood vessels that made him throb over your mouth with rage. “You know, you’d have to work really hard…” Between fondling and suckling his full sack into your mouth, you stroked his shaft and muttered, “To break me into pieces.”

It was difficult enough to maintain some semblance of order, but the taste of John’s sweat, blooming delicately and stimulating your appetite like an hors d’oeuvre, made you nearly submit as your knees felt inclined to spread wider, and wider, letting you enjoy your last moments before you’d yield.

You hoped you were distracting John enough, being caught in the middle of humping the air and fucking yourself back on some imaginary dick would’ve gave him the upper hand.

“I do—oh, fuck…” He choked back on a moan, the heat of your mouth as you suddenly slid his cock inside melted the composure off his face. His thick shaft strained, stretching your wet mouth uncomfortably. The chances of you taking all of John inside of your mouth was slim to none. You’d done this so many times, tried everything, from practicing with a dildo to enduring the tears welling, to get him down your throat, but your body wouldn’t give in—it simply couldn’t.

He was much too big for your own good.

John was large. Tall. Always has been, and always will be. His muscular legs were open wide, his face was slack-jawed from your tantalizing tongue, and even though you could barely fit half of his cock inside of your mouth, you were still in control.

You pulled him out with a gasp, nearly choking back on the spit pooled in the back of your mouth, and sniffled. “You do? You sure about that?” There was no doubt that the inevitable was going to happen. Gagging on John’s large cock was a given, but it was the messiness of it all, that made your cock leak. “I don’t think you can handle it.”

His cock was coated thick and heavy in a glorious sheen of spit, translucent pearls shining on the veiny skin. One hand was massaging his balls while the other was adamant in slicking him up until the weight of your own saliva was enough to weigh him down.

You temporarily freed John from your fist to slap his wet and large cock around. It was delectable, watching his giant tool swing from the impact of your smacks. Webs of thick spit occasionally flung to your face, as if his dick was fighting back against your horrendous taunts, but all you needed to do was tame it with your mouth again, and the reign on John’s body resumed.

“I am, and I can…” John grunted, his abdominal muscles flexing. You could see his toes curling into the carpet at the corner of your eye, swirling your tongue over the swollen pink head while the rest of his monster cock was being man-handled by your quick hand, tightly grasping to keep your hand from slipping.

“You absolutely sure?” Your words turned him on, his cock maddening in course as it spat out drips of pre-cum from the squeezing grip you had around his shaft.

The substance wouldn’t stance a chance against your urges, you eagerly went on to lap it up, forcing more of the viscous fluid to come out with competitive strokes to aid.

“I’m sure—baby, come on, enough—“ He struggled to contain his moans, arching his hip forward to push himself further into your mouth, but you wouldn’t have it. Instead, you reeled yourself back, slapping his cock once again as punishment, and remained at tip’s length.

You could tell he was getting frustrated, you knew of his mannerisms for years now. For God’s sake, you were his husband. His jaw tightened and his eyes leered down at you with sudden alert—like a silent warning. He exhaled sharply as if the draft in the room had infected his strong body with frostbite.

Nonetheless, you continued entertaining yourself, knowing the consequences—anticipating them, rather.

You tongued the urethra of his dick, welcoming every drop with greedy sucks, all while you hadn’t left John out of your sight for a single second. You could make John orgasm right then, you were so sure of it.

“You really, really, really sure?” Your smile was smug, feigning innocence while you mouthed on his thick piece of meat, stroking yourself to the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from his tip.

John’s gaze immediately darkened.

He loved watching you slap his dick across your face. He loved being in awe at his own size, especially when you’d shower him in praises as you compared his big cock to your forearm.

I’m going to break my ass taking you, John. Holy fuck…

He loved having his dick sucked, point blank period. How sloppy it could get, how nice his cock felt when it was being slimed up with such pent-up arousal. You were confident that you were over-delivering in that department too because the lower half of your face was dripping in your own saliva.

“What’s the matter, big man? You don’t want to fuck me anymore? Break me into pieces like you originally wanted to? Think you won’t satisfy me enough?” You pursed your lips over the plump head, provoking John by the sudden languid pace of your wrist. “Answer me,” You slapped his large cock again, your own erection throbbing from watching John grit his teeth in sudden refusal to give in.

“Are you sure or not? Huh? Answer me,” John sucked in his teeth every time you smacked his cock, and you proceeded to hound him harder, narrowing your tone. “Your cock’s useless. Can’t satisfy me. Can’t satisfy a fucking flashlight with how big it is.”

“Ghoul got your tongue, or what?” You smacked his cock hard. “Your big fucking cock—” His cock swung. “—seems to be doing—” Pulsed in a fit of pique. “the speaking for y—“

A harsh slap cut your taunts short.

You let out a gasp, your hand instantly coming up to hold your cheek and tranquilize the stinging pain. Shock crossed your face, bewildered as though you hadn’t been anticipating his catharsis the entire time.

“Enough,” He pulled you up by the jaw to meet your lips hungrily, his large hands clamped tight around your neck like you were fresh carp farmed for hatchery. “You’re really testing me today, aren’t you?”

The kiss was searing, your lips volunteering themselves to be bitten and sucked to be forgiven upon the increasing pressure around your throat. Maybe you were still coming to terms with the slap, but it swallowed you whole nonetheless, rendering you incapable of producing a single coherent thought.

You whimpered softly, his resentment was beyond recall as his hands remained solid, one thumb looming over the center of your throat, “Hit me again—“

He stabilized you with one hand around your throat, squeezing tight, and let his other hand swing across your cheek, harder than previously.

“F-fuck!” You could feel your cheek blooming with heat, stinging as if a million of rose thorns had prickled your skin to poison you with its color, and you couldn’t have asked for more.

It was too good. John’s large hand imprinted hot on your face, and it felt too fucking good. You were branded, an extension to the wedding band around your finger, a reminder of your undying love for him.

“Get on the fucking bed,” John growled, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth, slow yet imposing, before sending you away with a gentle kiss on your stricken cheek, a much-needed relief you had been silently clamoring for.

The metal clanking behind you sounded like church bells, but you resisted the temptation of looking over your shoulder, fearing that whatever John had in mind, he’d strip it away upon your lack of diligence. You crawled onto the bed on all fours and anticipated nervously

At long last, you felt your royal throne crumble into a million pieces.

You suppressed an urge to swear. The heat emanating from a strip of leather when he struck your ass was bartered directly with the devil himself. Another peep out of you, and John would’ve banished you to hell to pay your dues to the fallen angel.

“It was cute, I have to admit…” Your body jolted when John muttered near your hear. In the time his hand was soothing your whipped ass cheeks, the other had a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back for you to look at him. “Seeing you think you had control over me, even going as far as to humiliate me and my cock—did that make you happy? Huh?”

“I-I don’t know—“ You struggled to find the words, your mouth parting instead to lean in for a kiss in hopes to distract him, but John quickly caught on. He knew you, very well in fact, yanking your head back harder to coax a gasp out of you. As John had expected, he then pushed a thick wad of spit into your mouth before pulling you by the back of your neck into your original position.

You shuddered, smacking your lips at the arousing taste of John’s saliva spreading in your mouth. You savored him, wanted John to last forever on your tongue. You didn’t want to swallow. You wanted to simply let his spit pool with your own and mix into the perfect elixir that would work perfectly as a muscle relaxant, something that would greatly aid you in taking John’s cock—knowing the likelihood that he wouldn’t be easing up anytime soon.

“Answer me.” Your eyes widened in a silent plea when John taunted you with the belt in his hand. Before you could moan out so much of a beg, the leather in John’s hand came down swinging at your buttocks and seemingly cut through flesh. In turn, your four limbs gave out from the electrifying bolts of pain, making you collapse onto your stomach from the arresting strength of John’s resentment as you cried out in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck! F-fuck, fuck, fuck…!” You writhed in bittersweet glory, choking back on swears and instead, what came out were delicious straggled sounds that made John’s cock uncontrollably pulse. Your hands roamed the bedsheets, clawing at the silk material in search for a physical outlet to release the tension in your body. “I-I’m s-sorry—“

His cock was near you, lubed up in a thick, alluring sheen. Maybe John wouldn’t mind if you held him. Plead for him to stop with lazy, but abiding stroke. You bit your lips and stretched over to grab him.

He lifted your head again for you to face him. You sniffled, letting the tears roll down your flushed face before another wad of spit would accompany them in their journey. “You’re not answering my question. Were you happy?”

Upon barely brushing your fingers over the head of his cock, you reeled yourself back when the belt came striking down on your ass again, breaking skin as repercussions to your hedonistic behavior. Your legs came up to kick back at the air violently, grinding out the pain by digging your swollen cock into the bed.

You had enough.

You needed John.

Now.

“Y-yes! I was fucking happy! Watching your large cock swing like that. Degrading you to the point where you were too ashamed to answer me. Abusing your pathetic tool because it’s too immersed in its own girth to know that I actually despise your cock. Should’ve seen the look on your handsome face—god, I could’ve came right there. All because I was in control. You fucking let me, you fucking delusional self-obsessed cuck—”

At breakneck speed, John curtailed you of your vigorous speech by shoving your face into a pillow, mounting on top of you with one foot pressing hard to the back of your head, and grunted, “How do you like me now?” Pushing all of his body weight to vault you out of an escape route, you felt his cockhead suddenly breach your hole.

“Holy—shit!” You sobbed at the discomfort, kicking your legs back as John pushed more of his large cock further in, adding onto the painful stretch of your unsuspecting hole. You felt his a palm on your ass, spreading one cheek open to aid the slide. “Fucking, more—Johnny! More, more, more—“

“There we fucking go, fuck. Look at that hole. Fucking swollen around me, and I’m only halfway in,” he licked his lips, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm as he loosened your raw hole with shallow thrusts, his cock pushing deeper at every rut.

Your body’s natural reaction was to propel yourself up for some air, but after the first turn, John instantly took both of your wrists and bound them behind your back, your back muscles squeezing in effect. When you pushed your ass out, his foot pressed harder like it had the power to bury you six feet under if John had no concept of restraint.

It was painful, all of this, your neck was hurting, but especially your hole, his unrelenting thrusts—but, be that as it may, you were so happy that you didn’t have to remind John to leave you unprepared. Otherwise, the pleasure of John’s large cock gutting you raw wouldn’t have overstimulated you, not to this profundity. Your wriggles only made John hold onto your wrists tighter, his heel press deep into your nape, you were sure it would be bruised by the next morning.

You felt so used, your body at his disposal. Your cock was painfully rubbing between your pelvis and the bed from the impact of his strong thrusts, but you were leaking and throbbing nonetheless, staining the sheets from the thrill of it all—of being John’s personal fuck-toy.

“Feels fucking incredible. Shit, baby—“ His cock was digging into you like an excavator, slow in its journey, but you could feel him sowing excitement deep into you, nearing the crown of your prostate with the grind of his hips. You clenched tight, gripping your aching walls around the girth to provide John an incentive to go at you harder.

Not loose enough.

He had to fuck you open.

And you were desperate.

The perks to being married was that pleasuring one another came second nature to both parties. Luckily, you led a charmed life, and John was here to bestow upon you your weekly demands.

He released his foot on you, but you groaned when he pressed his remaining weight on top of your writhing body. “If you’re good…” John panted hot on your shoulders, accompanying the abruptly slow roll of his hips with chaste kisses to the shell of your ear and the moist parts of your neck. “Maybe I’ll let you play with your cock.”

“Please…” You flexed your toes into the sheets when John nearly pulled himself out, thankfully leaving only the swollen tip in.

“No, I had a change of heart. Maybe, I’ll let you jack off until you explode all over your sweaty body,” you pushed your ass back to slide more of him in, but a hard smack to your ass nipped your oscillation in the bud. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I’ll be good—promise…” you looked over your shoulder at John with glistening eyes and a sniffle, finding yourself frowning when he pulled himself completely out, and insisted on rubbing his wet cockhead over your raw, blossomed pucker.

“See? This is how it’s supposed to be—the natural order between you and I,” he sighed, giving into your desperation, and pulled you in for a sweet, lingering kiss after releasing your hands. A sigh of relief, you braced yourself half-way up with an elbow, the other hand reaching back to rest on John’s nape, and locked his lips deeply into yours, pacified by the soft fur of his beard on your chin.

His tongue messily swiped over yours as you both had intended to explore each other’s mouths. You two met in the middle, bridging each other’s spit from one mouth to the other. When a dribble of drool dared to leak from the corner of your mouth, John had incredible foresight and was already lapping it up before it could trail to the bottom of your chin.

“Say you love my cock…” John whispered, swaddling you into his arms from behind and carefully maneuvering your body on top of him as he switched positions, reclining himself onto his back.

Interlacing his legs with yours, John then pushed them apart with the spread of his knees, twisting his ankles over your own to lock you in place. He angled his hips to slide his dick over your taint, letting you wallow in the sight of his plump tool nearly curve over your throbbing erection.

“I love your cock…” You muttered softly, nuzzling the side of his kempt beard. The smell of bourbon vanilla lingered delightfully in your nostrils as you watched him from the corner of your eye, drooling when you caught a glance of his large cock spit thick drips of pre-cum over your balls.

It was fruitless to even try to attempt to close your legs, John’s calves overpowered your own by tenfold. In spite of your wish, John compensated by reaching below, trailing his warm hand over your ribs and stomach in passing, and wrapped his hand around your cock, slowly pumping.

“Say, you’ll be a good boy for me…” Brushing your hair back, John claimed a hold over the back of your head, raising his left arm to welcome your face into his armpit.

You moaned at the warm, musky odor. The thick hairs reeked of sweat. Salty and slightly spicy in your nostrils, yet you couldn’t help but inhale for more, breathing in the natural pheromones and making your cock dribble out ample amounts of pre-cum when the aroma of John’s masculine scent fogged your passing judgement, and had you licking at his pit.

John cradled the back of your head, quickening the strokes on your cock seemingly as a token of his appreciation while you buried your face in the bush of dark hairs, nuzzling and licking long stripes over the plane. It was addicting, yet embarrassingly filthy as it registered how easily John had reign over your freewill. Your spit gathered in the center of John’s armpit, where the hairs were grown the thickest. They were beads of your devotion, and you couldn’t have felt prouder marking your territory.

Your mouth watered and tingled at the ripe taste lasting on your tongue, then, when John suddenly tipped your chin up and spat inside of your mouth—you felt like you were in heaven, like your body wanted to crumble in front of him from the intimacy of it all.

He captured your lips again, and you muttered softly, “I’ll be a good boy…” You watched him with lustful eyes, anticipating his next move. His right hand had stopped stroking your cock in favor of massaging your tight balls, making you squirm with desire. When his other hand released his hold over the back of your head to toy with your perky nipples, the simultaneous pleasure carried a hoarse tune of desperation out from your throat.

“You’ll be daddy’s good boy?” He nuzzled your ear, kissing the shell of it.

“I’ll be whatever daddy wants me to be,” you slowly rolled your hips when you could feel John line his cock over your hole, lubing your pucker with the thick fluid leaking from the crown.

“And you want daddy’s big cock?” He rested one hand on each thigh respectively, spreading your legs farther by the aid of his knees.
 “I’m aching inside…” Your cock twitched upon feeling so completely vulnerable and bare for him.

“Then, let’s turn that ache into pleasure, shall we?”

That was all it took. A heartbeat, a single push of John’s hips, one strong stroke, and he claimed his territory. It was beautiful. Your silky flesh fluttered and clenched on his cock, and your eyes popped open wide when he slammed upward.

John ripped a glorious moan out of you. Your neck strained with beautiful veins as your attempts to bite them back were powerless in comparison to the spark of passion in John’s hips. You could see the very moment the fire flared in John’s eyes, his fingers gripping a mound of your thighs until they had turned white.

You were filled to the root, uncomfortably-so as John’s biceps bulged with strong veins on account of the bend of your legs. He capsized them, holding them back at the crook while he deliciously hollowed your hole deep with his monster cock, your feet dangling in the air from the pure drive.

It was a reminder. That you were his. That you were his only. Nobody could ever own you like he owned you now. John made sure those thoughts wouldn’t dissipate by making sure you felt every inch of his plump, meaty cock burrow in and out of you. John was adamant in making this more than a memory. He wanted you to wake up and sleep thinking about him. Thinking about his cock. Thinking about how brutally stretched you felt right now, and that you didn’t mind at all—because it was John, your loving husband. He would do anything for you, and right now, he was living up to his many vows of loving you fiercely, of completing you, of loving you forever and every day.

“T-too much, John—“ It wasn’t, you were lying—it was fucking perfect, but god, did you love making your husband feel powerful. You loved feeding his cock with arousal, feeling him throb harder while he pummeled himself faster into you at your spoken truth. “Cock’s too big—“

“I’ll make a cunt out of you, wear out your tight little hole until it’s leaking like one,” He growled. You cried out from unabashed lust, holding your legs back to expose yourself further, and John set the animal free at the depiction. He held your waist, dragging your unsullied hole through his hardness until only the tip was left before connecting the drop of your weight with a powerful thrust, punching into your prostrate.

“That’s what you are, right? My good little cunt? Just a good boy who can do nothing right, but take my large cock.” John gutted loud moans out of you, his gaze locked on your wrecked expression because watching you take his cock was equally as gratifying as sinking himself of you, down to the root. “Say it. Say you want daddy to make a cunt out of you.”

You were falling in love with this animalistic side of John. With the sensations he was supplying and overwhelming you with. Your cock was sure to agree, throttling as if there was a phantom hand stroking its shaft.

“I want—a fucking cunt. Want daddy to make a cunt out of my hole, please—“ You felt deviant, like those words shouldn’t have left your mouth, but it was all the worthwhile because John kissed you hard on the mouth, groaning.

Up to the hilt, John thrusted into faster—harder as you choked back on a moan and nearly gagged on his tongue. “I’m going to fill you up with so much of my cum, you’d be leaking for days.”

“Oh, God—“ You gritted your teeth, exhaling loud and hard because it was coming. Your stomach clenched and your balls tightened without the need of your hand.

“You’d be lucky to walk tomorrow, (M/N). You’d need my help walking you down the stairs. Even then, I wouldn’t be so sure if we’d make it to the floor. Knowing the prospect, I’d just take you right then and there, on the fucking stairwell, making your ass gape once again.”

“John, s-stop—I’m going to—“ Your eyes rolled back until John could only see whites. His words supplied you with the mental picture of the filthy smut coming out of his mouth. It came to you naturally—the smile on your face. You were broken in your state of reverie, dazed by the fantasy of taking John’s cock anywhere and anytime he pleased. Using you however his mind and body desired like he was now. Balls-slapping against your taint, sweat sticking your body to one another, pants and groans loud in your ear, the air thickening with the act of pure lust, pounding into you with no intention in letting you recover your breath. “S-stop, fucking coming—“

“Look at me,” John ordered you, panting.

Your eyes were heavy when you looked up, mere slits from the weight of your desires, heavily drugged by John’s poisoning rapture on your wrecked body. You pressed a smile against his mouth, making no attempt to kiss him, but to simply be in close proximity, pressing his nose against yours. He grappled at your hips, digging your insides with the weight of his large cock, piercing into prostate harder and faster as he took a bargain on your orgasm coming to a near.

You were stunned, the gutting you were enduring from John hitting you like a ton of bricks. You emptied your throat of sounds, the inner walls dry and scratched like the desert. All you managed for John was vigilant whimpers, any more forewarnings were fallen on deaf ears as you’d been knocked into a trance that melted your speech into meek garbles of incoherency.

It only took a few more seconds before your brain rewired itself and had your body floundering within John’s loving embrace, alerting you awake. With the help of John’s cock continuously assaulting deep at your prostate, you felt your body tense up, your hole clenching around pillar John’s pistoning staff to stop him, but he prevailed, breaching through the resistance, and slammed hard into your prostate once more, splitting your ass open and knocking the orgasm out of you.

John held your gaze, marveling over the ecstasy in your otherwise blown-out expression. His brows furrowed in utter fascination as your mouth parted open, only for your moans to adhere to your throat instead, blowing your load in agonizing silence. Thick ropes spurted powerfully out of your throbbing cock, splattering messily over your chest. With the buck of your hips, you graced your face with your cum-shots, additionally provoked as John used the strength of his heels to lift himself to meet you at an elevated height, fucking the cum out of you.

The sound that came out of you was guttural, transporting you into another dimension where you were caught in a whirlpool of toe-curling sensations. Rubbing a hand over your stomach, he could feel it sink in as you liberated yourself from your high, uncontrollably spilling over your pelvis in midst. Yet, despite your dazed state, your eyes never left his, provoking him to come inside of you with desperate, but gentle murmurs on his lips, as well as the addition of the ring of muscle spasming around his shaft.

“Fill my cunt up, make me fucking leak…” You showered his lips in soft whispers, finally releasing your grasp on your legs to stroke at his cheek. Squeezing, caressing, urging—for him to seal your hole.

On the drop of your legs, you squeezed them close together until your knees touched, confining his shaft between the clamp of your inner walls. You clenched hard when he was buried to the root, foiling the pace of his hips, and let your swollen insides bring him closer.

“Oh… shit…” John’s eyes rolled back, and finally spilled with a shudder.

His large cock jerked deep inside of you, and soon, you felt his warm seed fill you to the brim. You felt your bond with John transcend, higher, beyond space and time, with every pulse of his thick veins pumping cum deep into you.

Upon capturing John’s lips for a kiss, he circled his hips, making you moan languidly into his mouth. You swallowed every breath of his, swirling your hips against his own cautious thrusts in retaliation, gratified by the warm, thick coating of cum your insides were receiving, soothing your spellbound hole and stirring his connection to you.

“Didn’t hurt you too bad? Think I slapped you too hard.” John asked softly, gently rubbing a palm over your stricken cheek. You could see guilt in his expression as he brought you closer to claim your lips The moment was soft, the complete opposite of previous events, silent apologies to your mouth as John’s mouth was lingering, yet electrifying all at the same time as he sucked on your lower lip.

“You. Were. Perfect.” You warded off the guilt with a smooch after word, rubbing his chest. “I asked for it, you know that. It was fun, wasn’t it? Something different to spice up the bedroom.”

“Hm…” He laughed at your sudden eagerness, as if you hadn’t been debilitated from his cock moments prior. Tucking one arm behind his head, his other hand idly began petting at your head. He retired for the night with the shut of his eyes, contemplating on their newfound kink. “Let’s see how I feel when you’re the one slapping me next time. Then we can judge it accordingly.”

“Holy shit…”

“Mhm.” “I’m pulling out the dumbbells. Too late to go back on your word now, John.”

“Wait, now that you—“

“Not a single word, or I’m making you call me ‘Doctor’ as an early punishment.”

“We both know how this will turn out. I just need to pull my dick out, and you’ll be back onto your knees, no matter how much you try to resist.”

“I… plead the fifth?”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[mviswidow]

in the cards

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: slight suggestiveness

Summary: After going on dates for a month and a half, Nat finds out that R has a daughter.

Prompt: r and natasha are starting to see each other r let’s natasha into her life and natasha finds out r has a young daughter. natasha pushes r away bc she’s afraid of how she may fuck up the kid if she gets too close or smth

A/N: this req is from a while ago. and i j found it in my drafts i didn’t include the nat pushing r away part sorry about that

“It’s still early,” You murmured against Natasha’s lips, a hint of something more in your voice. When you pulled away to look at her, a smirk grew on her face as she raised an eyebrow in question.

“Do you want to come inside?” You asked, looking up at her through your lashes. Her smirk turned into a smile and she nodded before kissing you again.

Natasha promptly locked her car that the two of you were standing outside of and followed you into the lobby of your apartment building. Your hand reached for hers and you pulled her up the stairs to your apartment. 

As you found your key and started to unlock the door, Natasha began pressing gentle kisses to your neck, making you blush. Once the lock clicked to disengage, your hand dropped and you turned to face her. 

The crease in your brows made Natasha insecure when you looked at her intently, seeming to be making a decision. The two of you had been going on dates consistently for just about a month and a half and you’d already been inside her home. Anxiety grew in her chest when you seemed hesitant to let her inside of yours.

“There’s something I haven’t told you about me and I’m worried you won't like it,” You swallowed, nervously biting your bottom lip.

Hearing this alleviated some of Natasha’s concerns. Her hands found their way to your waist and a reassuring look spread across her features, “Well, I like everything I do know about you, so I wouldn’t worry too much. What is it?”

You pressed your lips together and took a breath, tilting your head up to avoid her gaze for a moment before you began speaking, “I have a daughter.”

Natasha’s mouth fell open and closed as she blinked several times, trying to process the new information. 

“I didn’t really know how to tell you when we first started going out and then I felt like I waited too long to tell you,” You ran your fingers through your hair as you spoke. “I don’t even know how you feel about kids so I had no idea if this would be a dealbreaker and I got more nervous for you to find out the longer I waited because I really like you.”

Natasha heard the uneasiness in your voice and shook her head, “It’s not a dealbreaker for me. I do wish you’d told me a little earlier, but I understand why you didn’t.”

You nodded and sighed in relief, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” She tucked a hair behind your ear and kissed your cheek. “I still like you.”

“Good,” You chuckled in response before concern flooded your features once more. “Do you still want to come inside? She’s probably still awake and I know I’ve just sprung this on you, so if you want to meet her another time I completely understand.”

Natasha seemed to contemplate her options for a couple of seconds before nodding, “I’ll come in.”

You grinned and pressed a kiss to her lips, “Perfect.”

Finally, you opened up the door to your apartment to see your daughter playing Barbies with her babysitter in the living room. 

“Mama!” Your toddler exclaimed, running as fast as her small legs could carry her before jumping into your arms. You held her on your hip and peppered her face with kisses. Bubbly laughter erupted from your daughter.

“Hi, baby,” You grinned. “You have fun with Bailey?”

“Yes!”

She went on to tell you about the events of her afternoon as her babysitter collected her things before saying goodbye to your daughter.

Natasha lingered near the door and watched you silently. The way your smile met your eyes every time your baby spoke told her all that she needed to know. You looked beautiful.

Once the babysitter had left, you turned and made your way toward Natasha, “This is Natasha, honey. Nat, this is Daisy.”

“Hi Daisy, it’s nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Natasha smiled at the young girl in your arms.

“Nice to meet you,” she replied quietly. She tended to get a little shy when meeting new people for the first time, but you knew she would warm up to Natasha in no time.

“Are you dating my Mommy?” 

Your face turned as red as it possibly could as Natasha chuckled, a light blush visible on her cheeks. 

“I am,” she responded. “And I promise I’m being good to her.”

Daisy smiled at that, seeming satisfied for the moment as she leaned her head on your chest.

“You sleepy, Dais’?” You questioned, kissing the top of her head.

She nodded, and you hummed, “Alright, baby, let’s get you to bed. Say goodnight to Natasha.”

“Night, ‘Tasha,” Daisy mumbled.

“Goodnight, Daisy.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” You said, looking over your shoulder to Natasha.

Natasha took the liberty to look around at the photos in your living room and kitchen while you were gone. Most of the photos were of you and Daisy. There were a couple of a dog she assumed you’d owned at some point in time. You had a grin on your face in every photo. It warmed her heart to see.

She picked up a photo resting on the coffee table of you and Daisy as she sat back on the couch. Daisy was sitting in your lap, her hair in small pigtails as she attempted to blow out her 2nd birthday candle. The resemblance between the two of you was uncanny. 

Natasha set the photo back down as she heard you singing a lullaby and couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face.

A couple of minutes later, you closed the door to your daughter’s room as quietly as you could and reentered the living room to find Natasha seated on the couch. 

Upon seeing you, a smile reappeared on Natasha’s face. “Hey, you,” she murmured.

The corners of your lips curled upwards as you made your way over to her, “Hi.”

The redhead pulled your legs across her lap when you sat beside her and put her arm on top of the couch cushion, her fingers now dancing up and down your spine. 

“She seems like a sweet kid.”

“She is,” You replied, a fond look on your face as you put your arm around her neck. “Daisy is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“I can imagine,” She nodded.

“Thanks for taking this so well. I’m an idiot for not telling you sooner.”

Natasha shook her head, “That’s alright, I get it. Not everyone likes kids.”

“But you do?”

She smiled softly, “Yes, I do…” 

It’s clear to you that she had something going on in her head by the crease between her eyebrows. You played with the ends of her hair, not wanting to interrupt whatever she was thinking about.

“I could never have kids,” she finally spoke.

You barely heard her say it. “I’m infertile”

Natasha’s eyes watered as her lips pursed together. “But I always wanted to be a mother.”

Your heart broke for her. “You would be a wonderful mother. I know it.”

She shrugged as a tear fell, “Not in the cards for me.”

Your hand was quick to brush it away and you offer a sad smile as you shake your head, “I don’t know about that. There are other ways to be a mother than giving birth, you know?”

Natasha’s heart raced at the subtle implication. It was early for the two of you, and she knew that’s why you were choosing your words carefully, but she was grateful for the sentiment nevertheless. She’d known that adoption was always an option and that she could always find someone with children but for some reason, she’d never imagined herself in those scenarios. The latter had always felt like an imposition of sorts and it didn’t feel fair to adopt a child who could have a greater family than she could ever give them.

Maybe you were right though. She nodded, “I guess so. I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to upset you. I really should have told you beforehand. I feel terrible for springing this on you.”

“I liked meeting her. She’s very sweet. I don’t regret a thing,” She reassured you. “But you must like me a lot to let me meet your daughter.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at her teasing, “I’m just lucky that you didn’t run screaming when I told you.”

“I’m not the one who’s going to be screaming,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Nat-” You gasped, not expecting the turn in conversation.

She was quick to nip at your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “You better hope you can keep quiet.”

[cosmicalily]

"till you tell me to leave" - a bangchan oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: i found a half-written draft for this in my old google docs with my other email account and immediately knew i needed to do a rewrite.

warnings: angst (breakup, exes to lovers)

Three days, twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes.

Four days.

Four days and one minute.

Another sleepless night. You didn’t mean to count the minutes, but your eyes remained fixated on your phone, half watching the clock, half staring at the lock screen you’d neglected to change.

Everything around you brought back floods of memories that you didn’t want to deal with. Pictures from photo booths, his arm slung around your shoulder, his hand on your cheek, his lips pressed to your forehead. The one hoodie you’d managed to hold onto, even after he’d packed all his other belongings up when he left. The pre-workout he kept in the back of your pantry. His toothbrush in your bathroom drawer. 

He’d been yours in every way, and you’d been his.

Maybe this was why you’d been so scared to love your best friend; you knew that more came with risk, chances of slamming doors, crying each other's names, and duffle bags hastily filled.

Even when you’d ended things, why were you still writing pages, when he’d been the one to close the envelope? Why were you spending hours nestled on the couch in his hoodie, staring at a black tv screen, unaware of the world around you?

new message from 'channie'

i think i left my hoodie at yours. you home?

i’m driving over.

A part of you wanted to run into the bathroom, brush your hair, remove the two-day old mascara on your eyes and change into something nice. A part of you remembered he’d seen you in every single form, and he loved you regardless. 

He used to tell you how beautiful you were every minute of the day, even when you felt anything but. Did he miss saying those things now? Or did he have another girl to call his angel, his baby, his darling? 

Just the thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

new message from 'channie'

outside.

Taking a deep breath and slipping on your sneakers, you began walking down the hallway of your apartment building. Even though the elevator wasn’t broken for once, you wanted to take the stairs. You needed time to think, and time to turn back if you felt the need.

Why were you so easily coming to him? Well, technically you weren’t, were you? He wanted his hoodie back, presumably the one you were currently wearing.

He’d broken your heart. No, not broken. Slowly tugged at it, until nothing that remained was a dull ache and your pulse.

You thought about turning back, about yelling in his face, about simply bursting into tears and curling up into a ball at the bottom of the staircase, until your neighbour came and yelled at you for disturbing everyone’s sleep at 12:29am.

You thought about these things, but you never felt like acting on them.

What was the point, anyway?

You never would have meant it.

You spotted his familiar black car, the scratch on the bottom from when he’d practised parallel parking, the Sharpie stars you’d drawn with him whilst drunk on his windscreen. You felt your heart swell a little, and even more so when the figure inside the vehicle turned his head to look directly into your eyes.

In silence, you walked over and sat down in the passenger seat, doing your best to look at everything but him. He nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line, and started the engine. He looked down at your torso, noticing his hoodie, but didn’t make a move to retrieve it. You didn’t attempt to take it off.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audibly.

“Hm?”

“Your seatbelt isn’t on,” you replied.

“I was in a rush.”

There was a sudden quiet. The click of his seatbelt, then yours, then the gentle hum of the car as he began to drive.

“You’re wearing the hoodie I left,” Chris finally said softly, eyes focused on the road ahead.

You ignored him. You didn’t really know where he was taking you, and you honestly couldn’t care less. He almost felt like a stranger. A stranger you’d poured your heart out to, and spent hours with, pressing kisses to each other's faces whilst watching movies, watching work out in the gym, cooking food for and dancing while doing the dishes with. A stranger who had been the vast majority of your firsts, who knew your body like the back of his hand, and spent long minutes in the latest and earliest hours loving you, worshipping you.

A stranger who’d been your everything.

As you drove in silence, apart from the soft rhythm of his playlist in the background, his hand found its way to yours, and gently caressed your fingers, as if asking for permission.

You allowed your palm to open.

His fingers tucked into yours, and his thumb brushed against your hand. 

His hand felt warm, familiar. His fingertips were calloused; a result of the way he gripped his pen when he frantically wrote his lyrics late at night.

The car slowed down, then stopped completely. He’d pulled over on the side of a road, in the middle of nowhere. It was ghostly silent, and the trees cast shadows through the headlights.

It was oddly comforting.

“I fucked up.”

“I know you did, Chris.”

He covered his face in his hands in frustration, letting go of yours in the process. Your hand felt a sudden coldness.

“I didn’t . . . I don’t know why I left you. I nearly called you, right after I left. I thought . . . I thought you’d want space, thought I shouldn’t have to put you through anymore. And you were getting fed up with me, I didn’t think you wanted me anymore.”

“I was still in love with you.”

“Was? Past tense?”

“I still love you. I didn’t necessarily fall out of love, Chris, I just . . . I felt like I lost a part of me. Everything felt familiar and distant at the same time, and there were traces of you everywhere. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I can never sleep.”

“I know.”

“I’ve been sleeping even less since I left. The bed’s cold.”

“Same with mine.”

You paused, staring at each other. Chris faced you properly.

“I’m still in love with you. And I’ll try forever if it means I can make you fall again.”

You smiled a little, letting your hand trail up his arm and wrap around his shoulders, resting your face in his warm neck. His hands moved to your waist, moving under his hoodie and settling on your bare skin.  “We should probably get some sleep,” you mumbled into him.

“Your place?”

“Our place. I still have your toothbrush, I think. And more than one of your hoodies.”

“Even if you don't, it doesn't matter,” Chris replied, clasping your hand in his again and gesturing to the backseat. His duffle bag sat there, zipped up, seemingly untouched since he’d left. “I’m coming home. If you’ll let me, of course.”

“You won’t leave?”

“Not unless you say so.”

“So never?”

“Never.”

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[heavyhitterheaux]

“You’ve had this, this whole time?”

With Joe and wifey plsssss

It was Joe's bye week and of course when he wasn't at Paycor at 6 am, he was up under you. However, when you woke up and saw he was gone along with his Porsche, you immediately blew up his phone asking where he was. Once he told you, he made a deal with you only to be gone for two hours.

He did as he had promised and now the two of you were cuddled up on the couch in the living room when not even the warmth from your husband made the chills you had go away. You decided on getting a hoodie from your closet in your bedroom and needed for Joe to move since he was laying on top of you.

“Babe, move for a second.”

“Why!? What for?!” He immediately whined before he pouted.

“I'm cold and going to get a hoodie from upstairs. I'll be right back.”

As he sighed, Joe sat up and you wiggled out from underneath him to go upstairs.

“Uh, aren't you forgetting something?” Joe asked and you looked at him confused.

“What did I forget?” You asked while looking down at him and he quickly placed you on his lap.

“I need a kiss before you leave.” He replied and immediately met your lips with his.

In order to satisfy him, you gave him several kisses before standing back up and heading upstairs. Once you came back down in one of Joe’s LSU hoodies, his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

“Baby? What is that face for?” You asked as you had taken your rightful spot back on the couch and opened your arms for him to lay back down on you.

“Where did you get that hoodie?”

“Uh, the closet?”

“Which side because I know it wasn't on mine.”

“It was on my side. What are you so up in arms about?” You asked him clearly confused.

“I have literally been looking for that hoodie for as long as I could remember.”

“Oh…”

“You’ve had this, this whole time?” Joe asked while taking a hold of the bottom of it.

“Um, I stole it before you left to come to Cincinnati when you came to see me before you started training camp when you got drafted. It smelled like you and I knew I would miss you a lot so having it really helped me.” You quietly said as you looked down and played with the sleeves of the hoodie.

Joe placed a finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him and planted a kiss on your forehead before pinching your cheek making you smile. He knew that his rookie season was hard for both of you since there were a few times when he thought you two might not make it because of the petty fights you two would get into.

Ultimately, they happened because he missed you and was frustrated that you couldn't be with him. He didn't quite express how he felt in the most appropriate way and it caused a riff between the two of you.

“You know I don't care how many hoodies you steal from me. I had just been wondering what happened to it. I know that time was difficult for both of us.”

“I found it the other day and decided to wear it.” You said as he finally laid back on top of you.

“I love you and we will never go through something like that again.” Joe told you as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you too.”

“Wait…. Do you have my gray LSU hoodie too?” Joe asked and you gave him a tight smile.

“I have the black and purple one too.”

[harrysxcarolina]

every single touch

b. eilish

warnings: wlw, mentions of intended smut, absolutely no plot, teasing, flirty!billie, fluff, short n short

au: honestly I like to get carried away in day dreams of how sweet and flirty billie would be... I found this in my drafts and I just had to share it with you guys... i have no shame. so sit your pretty selves back and enjoy this sweet treat while I work on i could eat that girl for lunch xxx

Her body pressed upon yours. Her hips laid between yours. Hot lips pressed to your skin as she leaves her mark leaving traces of goosebumps on your skin. 

Hands roaming her naked back as she ruts her hips against yours as a small moan escapes her lips. 

“Fuck,” she whimpers as her forehead lays on your shoulder. A shiver works its way down her spine. Her breathing ragged as her chest presses against yours. 

Her hands skimming their way up your side. Your heart beats faster the higher she gets. Her smirk felt against your collarbone as she lays chaste kisses up and down your cleavage. Your back slightly arches off the bed as her fingertips trace the underline of your ribs. Inching closer and closer to your breast. Biting your lip fighting back a moan your eyes clenching shut. Your breathing stops completely as you feel her warm fingers against your sensitive bud. Teetering with you as you feel her breath hitch. Twisting your sensitive nipple between her fingers pulling out the sweetest moans from your lips. her rigid breath beating against your skin as her body quivers above you.

Rocking her hips against yours as her grin tightens grasping your entire breast. Fitting perfectly in her hand. Groaning as her hand slides back down your torso feeling the way you arch into her following her touch. 

“Shit pretty girl,” she rasps out. “I love when you do that.” She moans as she lifts her head from the crook of your neck searching for your eyes. Her eyes trace the outline of your face. From your furrowed eyebrows, to your crinkled nose, the way your bottom lip fits between your teeth. The deep rosy tint on your cheeks. The way your chest continuously heaved up and down in her grasp, begging for her to continue her sweet torture. Her bottom lip captured between her teeth as she smirks down at you. A raspy groan leaves her lips as her head rolls across her shoulders. Her smoldering glare staring down at you through hooded eyes as her tongue works its way across her lips. Her hips working slow and steady against yours as your bodies fit together perfectly.

Your hair cascading into your view as your head finds itself thrown back on the pillow as you suppress a moan from the rotation of Billie’s hips against yours her hand working its way back to your neck as she holds you in that position. Enjoying the way your throbbing pulse feels beneath her grip.

Her eyes roll at the site of you beneath her. 

“Baby," You whine as Billie groans above you humming softly in acknowledgement as her eyes meet yours losing her grip around your neck as her hips slow. The air was thick and heavy around you both as you try to slow your beating heart. "Love when I do what?” You softly ask as you try and catch your breath. Your gaze meets hers as you fight back a smile. The heat rushing to your cheeks as your feel the tingles in your fingertips travel to your core. Her once icy stare now a soft pale as she softly flicks her gaze across your features.

Gently grasping the side of your face lowering to connect your lips in the softest kiss you've ever shared. It was sweet and simple, yet filled with every unspoken word and promise she has ever wanted with you. Brushing your lips against hers softly as you once again try to catch your breath and steady the fluttering wings in your belly. Her breath tickling your skin as you feel brush her nose against yours.

“When you show me how good I make you feel mamas,” she mumbles against your lips. Not missing the way your breath got caught in the back of your throat. 

A soft chuckle leaves her lips as she takes a peak at you. Your cheeks heating up as her eyes meet yours. “What- what do you mean?” You ask softly as your fingers reach up tucking a piece of fallen hair behind her ear your lip getting caught between your teeth causing it to turn a cherry red color. Looking up at her through your lashes as your fingers slide down her jaw to her neck. Teasing her skin as you feel her pulse quick.

Her smirk grows. Nodding her head softly as her teeth suck across her teeth before laying claim on her bottom lip. Enjoying your little flirting game.

“It's the way your body arches into mine as if you can’t get enough of my touch,” she states as she kisses the corner of your mouth her voice dropping in tone as a low raspy hum leaves her lips. Tilting your head slightly to the side giving her more room to wonder. Licking your lips as she slowly leaves open mouth kisses down your cheek to your jaw. 

“How I can literally control how you breath baby. With every glide of my hand I cause a quiver and shake across your body. The goosebumps and sharp intakes of breath all belong to me. I get to feel every single breath you do and don’t take as I-,” she whispers as she illustrates her words sliding her hand slowly back up your side. Teasing your warm skin. “-feel every inch of you baby. How I cannot only hear your heart beating against your chest but I feel it against my lips.” She states in a hushed tone as her lips make quick work to suck the sweet spot right behind your ear.

Causing your hands to entangle themselves deep in her locks holding her in place against your neck your legs instantly wrapping themselves around her lower torso pulling her tighter against your aching core. A deep groan echos off her chest as her hips give hard thrust against you in response, as her lips continue their attack on your neck. Leaving her mark as her hand slides down between your thighs. 

“Fucking hell pretty girl,” She moans in your ear as her fingers slide under your pantie line and gently brush up and down your wet folds. 

She growls as her smirk grows bigger as her fingers and lips get lost in exploring every single inch of you. Over and over again. Wanting nothing more than to hear your sweet melodies that are reserved just for her and her only. 

[l1tw1ck]

dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.