#you can't just make jokes and then say shit like that with your whole chest when you're not with me anymore and expect me to just

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Previous Part: Chapter Two -- Where Is She

Warnings: Another pretty tame chapter ngl. Mild mention of murder I guess??

Word Count: 1,195

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N just a reminder that my requests are open :)

"Blitzo, can't you just deal with whatever it is on your own?" Y/n groaned, rubbing her temples in irritation as she stepped out of the office, "I swear to god, if this is some joke? I'm gonna kill you."

There was the quiet, indiscernible drone of the TV. Other than that, the room was silent. Y/n looked up, her eyes falling on the wall beside the office's door and the people who stood before it.

Moxxie, Millie, and Blitzo in a quiet, tense line. She raised her eyebrows, nearly smiled.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Blitzo uncharacteristically said nothing, simply raising his hand and pointing to the entry way. Y/n's eyes narrowed, her muscles tensed and ready for a fight as she followed the path indicated by his gesture. The hand on the knife at her side fell slack as her gaze landed on an achingly familiar face.

"Holy shit." she mumbled, her mouth falling open a little.

"Yeah, uh, he's been asking for you?" Moxxie nervously explained, "You didn't... I mean, he's the Radio Demon. He hasn't been seen in years, you didn't fuck with him... did you?"

Y/n felt tears press behind her eyes again as she took a tentative step forwards. Then another one. Slowly, she crossed the room to the taller demon who just stood there with a smile, watching her all the while with his arms folded behind his back. Y/n peered up at him, her eyes narrowed as they met his own.

The one person in the whole world she'd been practically dying to see. There was a pain, he was the cause and the cure of it. Hesitantly, she raised a hand and poked his nose.

"Shit." Blitzo muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly as Millie let out a subtle gasp.

"Are you done?" Alastor asked, his voice crackling with irritation as he looked down at Y/n, whose arms were now crossed over her chest.

"I had to make sure you weren't a dream." she shrugged, turning her head away, "Mox was right, you've been gone seven years."

"Are you mad?" he teased, leaning down towards her ear.

Y/n rolled her eyes, turning to face him once again. She scowled at the man for a moment before a smile broke out across her face.

"I never could stay mad at you." she admitted, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I..." Moxxie trailed off in confusion.

Alastor slowly wrapped his arms around Y/n's waist.

"Mills, start planning a funeral." Blitzo scoffed.

Before any of the trio could say another word, he had lifted her off her feet and was spinning her in the air.

"Al!" Y/n shrieked through her laughter, "Stop it! You'll mess up my hair!"

He set her down again and the pair released each other.

"You menace." Y/n shook her head, still laughing, "It's like you knew I was thinking of you."

"You were, were you?" he teased, leaning down to her level.

"Y/n, do you know the Radio Demon?" Millie interrupted, taking a step forward.

Both Alastor and Y/n turned to face her.

"What, this old freak?" she asked, elbowing him gently.

"I resent that." Alastor hummed and Y/n laughed again, her joy unbridaled.

"Yeah, we're friends." Y/n confirmed, catching the genuine concern in her friend's eyes, "Known each other for about as long as I've been down here."

Alastor nodded as Y/n looked back up at him.

"Speaking of the old days," he hummed, looking her up and down, "what's this new look you've got?"

"Huh?" Y/n looked down at her clothes before turning and meeting his eyes once again, "Oh, I'm an assassin now."

"No no no, my dear." he shook his head, "This simply wont do. I can't have you wandering around looking like some ragamuffin."

Alastor snapped his fingers and Y/n looked down to see she was wearing a dress now. She almost yelled at him, almost tore him a new one and called him a dick. Then she realized what dress it was she was wearing. Y/n looked up at Alastor with wide eyes.

"This is..."

"The dress you murdered your husband in, yes."

Y/n squealed, throwing her arms around Alastor's neck and pulling him in for another tight hug that he reluctantly accepted. Letting him go, she spun around, watching the way the skit splayed out from her legs.

"You remembered! Oh, Alastor! Thank you."

"The fuck." Blitzo muttered to himself, watching the scene playing out before him.

Y/n beamed up at him as Alastor raised a claw, looping it through the circle on the collar Y/n still wore. All of her other accessories and clothing had vanished, as he had intended, except for this. He hummed thoughtfully and Y/n's cheeks grew hot with shame. She looked away.

"What's this then?" he asked, letting the ring fall from his finger.

It hit the leather of the collar with a quiet thud.

"Look, I... made some bad choices." Y/n sighed, refusing to meet his eyes, "A physical sign of a very real metaphysical decision I had to make."

"Quite possessive, to cast a spell like that." Alastor mused, "You always had a thing for that though, didn't you."

Y/n raised her arms, wrapping them tightly around her body at the harsh remark. She made to move away from him but, as she did, Alastor grabbed Y/n's chin, forcing her to look at him. He watched her expression carefully.

"You could have come to me. You know I would have taken that delectable little soul off your hands in a moment."

"Yeah well, you weren't here." Y/n firmly stated, taking a step back so he no longer held her, "I did what I had to do to survive."

Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"And who exactly did you make this... bad decision with?"

"Al, can we please talk about this later?"

"They don't know, do they."

"They do." Y/n insisted, "I just... please, not now."

"Fine." Alastor relented after a moment.

The pair fell silent, Alastor's critical gaze interlocked with Y/n's indignant one.

"Sooo," Blitzo began, breaking the awkward silence and drawing the attention of the room off the pair and onto him as he took a step forward, coming to a stop beside Millie, "you two fucking?"

"Jesus, Sir!?" Moxxie exclaimed in shock.

"You can't be serious, right?" Y/n laughed in surprise, "No, Blitzo, we're not fucking. The day Alastor has a sex drive is the day Heaven is overrun by... I don't know, giant killer bees?"

"It's more likely than you think, dear."

"What's that-"

Alastor cut her off mid sentence, placing a hand over her mouth as he caught the images flashing across the TV on the other side of the room.

"Hey, rude." Y/n scoffed, pulling herself from his grip.

Alastor ignored her. With a flick of his finger, he raised the volume on the TV. At the sight of his narrowed eyes and tight smile, Y/n turned to see what exactly was bothering him so much.

----

Next Chapter --> Chapter Four -- Vox

#x reader fics #fanfic #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #x reader #make you wish #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel spoilers

[cosmic--marmalade]

Ex no.2 rant in tags

#oooooooooooooooooooo I was passive agressive at him #he's still feels the same way I feel about him #neither of us can say it out loud anymore because it hurts so fucking much #but I told him he can't just pull some shit on me like we're still together #e.g. when he made a joke about doing numbers at a temple function and I said 'lol I guess we'll never know now' #Like motherfucker I Told You that I's be mean about it next time you were thoughtless about it #i know it was petty BUT!!! #you can't just make jokes and then say shit like that with your whole chest when you're not with me anymore and expect me to just #smile and fuckin nod aling #You Missed Your Chance At Coming To Temple With Me When You Chose Someone Else To My Face #god I would have dropped everything and run away with him too #i wanted that big green couch and the kitchen with our names painted into flowers along the ceiling border #i would have married him and left our other partners behind in heartbeat #I didn't even realize that part until after we broke up #stop comparing me to Arwen and dark eyed muses from the pre-raphelite period and getting mad when I lose my shit and get weird about it #MOST EXES DON'T COMPARE THE PERSON THEY'RE STILL IN LOVE WITH TO ICONIC SEX SYMBOLS AND IT GIRLS AND PRETEND TO BE NORMAL ABOUT IT #YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH ME STILL AND IT MAKES ME BLEED OVER EVERYTHING I HAVE TRIED TO BUILD TO GET OVER YOU #Fuck you for making me love you #Fuck you for thinking you'd still get to come to temple with me one day #Fuck You for telling me I look like Circe/a John Waterhouse painting/Emma Hamilton/every dark eyed dark haired painted woman you see #you literally tell me how you see me in everything how even when you're with J that you see me everywhere #how you think about me all the time #Stop consuming me body and soul and maybe I'll be nicer when you make a joke about coming into intimate Jewish spaces with me #god at least ex no.1 had the decency to admit that he fucked up every chance I gave him and isn't pretending like it's fine

[luveline]

I would love to see shy/easily embarrassed!reader x steve where he makes a dirty joke in front of their friends and r is just super flustered, blushing very obviously and smacking his arm (silent way of telling him to stop embarrassing her!)

thank you for your request lovely!! fem!reader

Robin drops a can of soda in your lap and winces when it misses your leg and hits the asphalt. "Shit. Don't open that for a while." 

"Thank you," you say. 

"Don't say thanks, she made your life harder," Steve chides, his arm over your shoulder. He gives you a loving shake. "You gonna say thanks when it explodes, too?" 

He loves giving you and Robin a hard time for fun, but it's never serious. You send him a fake glare and take the cold soda can into your hand, tentative, worried it might explode. 

"She says thanks all the time because she's nice," Jonathan says, peeling open a bag of hard pretzels. 

Steve perks up like a bloodhound, his love for pretzels almost outranking his 'stir every pot' prerogative. "She's super nice," he agrees, "aren't you, sweetheart?" 

"I feel like I'm being targeted unfairly," you murmur, pretending your cheeks aren't aflame to the best of your ability. 

If he notices your flustered heat, you can blame the summer sun that's only just dropped down behind the treeline, throwing the road outside of the convenience store into shadow. It's a blessed reprieve from sweating, and all you need now is an ice cold drink. 

You offer it to Steve. "Will you do it, please? I'm scared if I touch it anymore it'll explode." 

"I know how it feels," Steve says. 

Jonathan laughs in disgust, and Nancy laughs at his quick wit (and maybe also disgust). You slap Steve's arm where it rests over your shoulder, his hand shy of your chest suddenly in an unacceptable position, what with his implication. He laughs and pulls his hand to your shoulder to stop you from hitting him, kissing your temple. 

"Sorry! I totally meant my heart," he says, giving you a little pat. 

"Yeah, sure," Robin says. "I thought you were a feminist?" 

"I love women," Steve says, giving you another kiss before leaping onto his feet and taking a couple of steps away, "that's why I'm going to open my babe's soda, even though it's one hundred percent a bomb."

You can't meet Robin's eyes when she smiles at you as if to say, He deserves this. 

Steve digs his fingertip under the tab and pulls. Like everyone expected, fizz and foam explodes, hitting his chest and his neck before spattering down his fingers and dripping onto the ground. He blinks dazedly. 

Your friends clap. You join in after a moment, in love with him even when he makes jokes that have you wishing the ground would swallow you whole, trying not to stare at the shining bead of soda as it slides down over his Adam's apple. 

He sits down heavily beside you on the curb and hands you your soda, dried off with the end of his shirt. "Was that too far?" he asks, quieter, genuinely concerned.

You laugh softly, placing the soda by your shoes. "No, it was funny. Funnier if it wasn't, you know, in front of all our friends." 

Steve drops his arm on top of yours to clasp your hand. 

"My comedian," you mutter. 

"Ah, so you are mad." 

You drop your head against his shoulder, your furnace of a cheek flat to the stitching on his sleeve. You're not mad, and you prove it with a gentle thumb rubbing the back of his hand. 

"You know, exploding isn't the only thing me and that soda have in common–" 

"Steve, no," you say, closing your eyes.

Your friends chuckle. Steve rests his head atop yours. "I'll tell you after," he promises. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[l13]

what kinda kinks do you think hobie would have? :33

first of all i wanna apologize for this lazy ass writing i'm just UNHINGED i've seen so many hobie edits my mind cannot take this madness i'm seriously in love with him it's not a joke anymore, like i need him bro, I N E E D HIM

NSFW 18+, MDNI

❥ i haven't heard a lot of people say this about hobie but i think he'd REALLY like power exchange, like let my MAN BE A SWITCH PLEASEEEEEE guys please trust me okay hear me out, picture this: hobie laying naked on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly as you continue to jerk his cock in an torturously slow pace, he's already cum once, so his hips jump every time your fist closes around his tip, and he's groaning, the sound trailing off to a breathy chuckle as he glances up at you, grinning lazily "Y're killin' me, y'know that?" throw in a little nipple play and man's GONEEEE

❥ definitely and i mean DEFINITELY likes dry humping ohhhhh?>>my god??? literally starts as a joke on the rare occasion he sees you bent over, or braced against a counter or smth, he HAS to come and hump you, and it's fine cause you literally do the same thing to him (you're the one that started it). the first time you did it he had laughed the sound giving you goosebumps as he glanced at you over his shoulder with a tiny smirk "You're mental,". but then proceeds to do the same thing to you every chance he gets. One day, you just rolled your hips back against him and the whole vibe changed. You shivered when you heard him inhale sharply from behind you, and his hands circle around your frame to pull you closer. and then he's thrusting against you hard, his clothed cock rubbing against the swell of your ass making you both moan as he drops his head on your shoulder to pant, "About fuckin' time,"

❥ random horny thought and not really a kink: he loves fucking you doggy style in front of a mirror, hand holding you by the throat, his fingers skimming your jaw as he tugs you back to him every time he thrusts forward, his other hand holding onto your ass securely as he snaps his hips against you. And then he's pulling at your throat and suddenly your back is flush against his chest, and the hand that was holding your ass travels around to your pussy to circle at your clit. You're both moaning when you tighten up so much around his cock "Look at you," he's groaning, snapping his hips up instead of forward and your mouth drops open in a silent scream as his cock touches that spongy spot inside you, and he's moaning "Yeah? Right there? You're so fuckin’ pretty, baby, should be fuckin’ illegal," and you're mewling, “You’re so good to me Hobie.. Can feel you so fucking deep inside me oh my God-” “Shit- don’t say that or I’ll cum-” DAAAAAMN okay i got sidetracked again

❥ lil bit of a voyeur maybe, he'd take you even at a secluded space at HQ (would first make sure if you're 100% in tho) he'd fuck you against the wall, with his hand over your mouth as he mutters against your shoulder, "Wanna hear you so fuckin' bad.. but we can't, right? Can't let them know how much of a good girl you are f'me.. Ah, fuuck-S only for my eyes."

❥ CONSENTTTTT consent turns him on so much- and let me explain okay imagine you're just getting ready to suck him off, unbuttoning his jeans, still giggling at his face when you'd said "no, the belts stay on," and then your fingers are finally under the waistband of his boxers and you're looking up at him- "Can I take these off?" and he's so confused bc he's never actually had anyone else ask him that question before "Wh- yes?" and when his cock is finally out in all its glory, and you're licking your lips, you ask again, "Can I touch it?" he can't hold back his smile this time, letting out a giddy laugh, "Baby, 'f course you can, you don't have to ask," idk he just thinks it's the hottest thing ever

❥ extra crack hc cause it just came to me: imagine him being like "You wanna try slapping me in bed?" and you're just looking at him like he's grown two heads but nod slowly nonetheless "....sure?" and then you actually slAP him like 10 minutes later and he's like :C "That felt personal love, m'feelings are kinda hurt." and you're just apologizing over and over and he's laughing at you- "m just playing wit' you. but yeah absolutely not doing that shit again,"

#•ूᡣ𐭩 — hobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader smut #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x reader

[sprout-fics]

Thots on our boy Soap in the bedroom?? I feel like he’d be such a fun lover

NSFW John 'Soap' MacTavish

HE ISSSSSSS

He's Literally So Boyfriend

Out of all of the 141, Soap is by far the most playful. He lives to see his loved ones smile. If you're in a sour mood he'll plop himself down by your side and needle you until you can't help but giggle and hide your smile

This goes to the bedroom too. He's the kind of goofy guy who will be kissing you absolutely senseless one moment and then motorboat your stomach the next

He does have a serious side to him, as all soldiers do, but he lives for the moments of safety where you're caught in his arms and whining at him when he pulls back from your kiss again with that shit-eating grin of his

He's the most likely to try something new, is always up to entertain new ideas in the bedroom. You two have tried pretty much every position there is in the Kama Sutra, and even the ones that aren't.

There's some things he won't try. He'll give you a few spanks to the ass to be cheeky, will bite hickeys into your neck that you have to cover up with makeup, but the idea of hurting you even for the same of pleasure, of degrading or humiliating you isn't something he can stomach well

He does loves the novelty of something new though, from toys to outfits to beyond

At one point he buys a camo jockstrap to surprise you, and you laugh so hard you nearly fall out of the damn bed at him freeing his erect cock and going "Attennntionn-!!"

Makes so many dick related army jokes it's insane. You've heard the 'dishonorable discharge' one so many times you now groan into your hands whenever you hear someone else use the term in earnest

He loves it though, loves the 'That was terrible' response to his jokes you give even though you're laughing. His pleased smile at making you laugh is the stuff of daydreams

Johnny loves to tease. Loves having you in his lap grinding down on him, his hands roaming all over you while you groan into his mouth. You can taste the smile on his lips when he catches your hand trying to undo his belt, grins up at you and tells you there's no rush, that you two can take your time

It's the same when he's buried between your legs, hands pressing your thighs wider until you're completely spread out for him. He fastens his lips on your clit and sucks on it until you writhe and have to buck him off in overstimulation, will murmur a little apology through laughter before he sucks a hickey into your thigh

Despite him being fairly playful and adventurous, his favorite position is always going to be missionary, because he adores seeing your face scrunched with pleasure, head thrown back against the pillows, chest heaving with pants as he fucks you with quick, snapping little thrusts that makes you whine

"Gorgeous." He tells you, kissing you with the same heat that pools below your belly, moaning into your mouth as his hips stutter

At other times he'll tease you while you two are having sex. Give you the whole 'Ohhh I know, it feels so good' line and when you smack at him he only laughs, fucks into you harder

When he has the time, he loves to see just how many orgasms he can wring from you before you have to tap out, your fist pounding the bed as you beg him breathlessly with a gasping "Johnny, please, too much-"

Even when you say you can't possibly have another orgasm he merely hoists your legs up over his shoulders and finds a new angle to thrust inside you until you stare unseeing at the ceiling, trying and failing to find your way out of the labyrinth of his pleasure

"Told you so" He says after you come down, eyes twinkling with satisfaction

It's overwhelming in the best of ways, always has you drunk on him in the way he sweeps you under with a few touches, a murmur of laughter against your flesh. You're always dizzy with it afterwards, blinking against the brightness with his smug face hovering over yours

"It was good, yeah?" He asks almost boyishly, holding your face so he can peck little kisses over your half-lidded expression. "Yeah?"

You nod against him, gasping a little for air as his lips press against your fluttered gaze

"Yeah, Johnny." You tell him breathlessly, craning up to kiss him and tasting the happy smile on his lips

#john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #reader insert #x reader #minors dni #18 + #18 + only #headcanons

[fandomxpreferences]

Caught In the Crossfire

Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!reader (both over 18)

TW: violence and guns, blood, injury, angst, I think thats it

Summary: JJ has sworn to protect you no matter what, but sometimes you give him a run for his money.

Word Count:2.6k

Ever since you were kids, JJ has been protective over you. But since the two of you started dating, it only amplified. He's been in more fights than you can count just because a man looked at you wrong and he almost drove you to the hospital over a stubbed toe one night because he was that worried. 

He insists that it's not just his job to look out for you, but his privilege. Truthfully you're not complaining. However, that's not to say you can't take care of yourself. Anyone who really knows you knows that you're not to be fucked with. 

When it comes to your friends, and especially JJ, you've been known to make reckless decisions if they're in danger. You and JJ only have each other, and there's nothing that either of you wouldn't do for the other. 

He's been a constant in your life since you were four years old, and the two of you have found solace in each other over the years amid your shitty home lives. It's no secret that you'd take a bullet for each other, he stepped in front of a shotgun that was pointed at you once. 

Which is exactly why you're in your current situation.

This whole thing is stupid, honestly. Barry got some bad intel, now convinced that one of you stole from him again. You may not be the brightest group, but you're not dumb. You wouldn't make that mistake twice. 

"Give me my fucking money, or somebody is going to die." 

Barry's voice is hoarse as he screams and your wide eyes lock with Sarah's. Everyone has their hands up defensively, and you stand helplessly next to Kie and Sarah as John B tries to de-escalate. 

"Barry, we didn't do it. I swear." 

The man isn't willing to listen to reason and time moves in slow motion as he pulls out a black handgun and points it directly at John Bs chest. You vaguely register Sarah screaming to your right but you're frozen in place as everything unfolds. 

That is until you see JJ step up. He puts his body between the barrel and his friend, standing less than ten feet away. A wicked smile overtakes Barry's face and your stomach drops.

"Looks like we have a volunteer." 

It's like a movie as the world seems to stop spinning, and that protective instinct takes over. You see the switch in Barry's eyes and your gaze darts to his finger twitching on the trigger. He's going to pull it this time. 

Your fight or flight takes control, and you've never been one to run. Within seconds you're shoving JJ behind you. He's taken off guard, unable to stop you despite his notable size advantage. Turns out that when you're flooded with adrenaline you have hulk strength. 

Barry chuckles darkly and tilts his head to the side. 

"Makes no difference to me." 

You're fighting JJ now, the two of you shoving against each other. He's about to pick you up and move you, but it's too late. It's only a span of maybe twenty seconds between you stepping forward and the flash of the muzzle. 

Everything happens so fast, it takes you a moment for your brain to catch up. There's a loud bang that causes your ears to ring, followed by a searing pain in your abdomen. Everything stops for a moment as Barry speeds off and the group processes. 

Nobody realizes you've been shot you realize; they're all breathing sighs of relief and talking about how scary it was. In their defense, you're standing still like you're okay and not screaming the way you always imagined you would if you were shot.

"Thank god his aim is shit." John B jokes, and everyone but you laughs.

Sarah and JJ seem to notice at the same time, their eyes widening in concern as they stare at you. It's only been thirty seconds, not enough time for the damage to fully reveal itself to them. 

Your hand comes down to your stomach as you feel something warm and you stare down at your blood-covered fingers. Your brain is struggling to keep up, unable to formulate a response to your now panicked boyfriend. 

"Baby, are you okay?" 

You're turned sideways, angled just enough that he can't fully see you. You always thought something like this would be more dramatic; maybe take more time. Turns out, it only takes about two minutes. 

JJ hasn't even had a chance to lovingly scold you for putting yourself in harm's way. You feel like you've been standing still with warm blood seeping through your shirt for hours, but in reality, it's only been a minute and a half. 

Sarah goes to reiterate the question, but you're not listening. Your ears are ringing; from the gunshot or blood loss, you aren't sure. JJ watches as you sway a bit and his entire world comes crashing down as your knees give out and you collapse in a heap. 

JJ is on the ground next to you in an instant, the rest of the group quickly following when they realize something is wrong. 

His eyes are swimming with fear as he looks you over and bile creeps up his throat when he sees the crimson liquid pooling on the ground around you. 

What ensues next is nothing short of chaos as JJ cradles your head and starts barking orders. 

"JB put pressure on that! Sarah, call 911 and tell them we need an ambulance. Pope, Kie, go find anything we can use to slow the bleeding!" 

Everyone scrambles to do as he says, not daring to question the man or hesitate for even a second. You've never seen JJ in such an intense situation, and the way he completely takes control with an even voice takes you by surprise. 

You cling to the thought as you try to stay awake and wonder how much worse this will hurt when the adrenaline wears off. 

You feel your eyes getting heavy, and despite your best efforts to pry them open they still start to flutter. You're hit with the realization that you're dying in the arms of the man you love, and a tear slips out the corner of your eye.

There's so much to do; you're not ready to go.

"Hey, I need you to stay with me, baby. Keep your eyes open for me."

You blink a couple of times, trying to fight off the blackness encroaching on your vision. 

"I'm trying."

Your voice is weak; JJ can tell you're using all your strength just to mutter out the two simple words. He gives you a watery smile as salty tears drip onto your face. 

"I know, you're doing so good." 

Your lip quirks up a bit and his heart soars, false hope filling his chest. 

"I'm gonna miss you. Will you miss me?"

Despite being only half conscious, the words come out crystal clear and JJ kisses the back of your hand. 

"I'd miss you so much, but we don't have to worry about that okay? You're gonna be fine and we're gonna live a long happy life together. They'll kick us out of the nursing home."

Your sight is blurry now as you stare up at him, and your body is trembling violently. 

"I'm scared."

JJ chokes down a sob and kisses your sweat-covered forehead. 

"I know, sweet girl. I'm right here, you're going to be okay. I'll keep you safe."

He can barely speak now as his throat closes up and he notices you go limp. 

"Y/N? Baby squeeze my hand, give me something. Anything."

He's begging and when you don't respond, all his composure falls away. Kie is back with a hand full of towels and JJ checks the pulse on your neck, barely feeling it against his fingertips. 

"Kie, do CPR!" 

She does as she's told and JJ can faintly hear sirens approaching. He watches your face for any sign of life and shoves Kie to the side when he finds none. 

"You're not doing it hard enough!"

All of his training from being a lifeguard two summers ago comes rushing back as he puts his weight on your diaphragm. 

"JJ, you gotta stop man."

Pope and Sarah are trying to pull him off as he openly sobs now, every muscle in his body straining against their hold. 

"I can't lose her!"

His arms cradle your body as he holds you to his chest, wails ripping from his lungs. 

"Please wake up. I still need you."

He doesn't even register the ambulance pulling up before he's ripped away from you. He watches as they work on you and load you up into the back before speeding off. 

Everyone is quick to hop in the Twinkie, taking off like a bat out of hell in the direction of the hospital. 

JJ is crying into Kie's shoulder in the backseat, everyone battling their own sorrow and tears. 

His hands feel sticky as your blood dries on them and he's suddenly painfully aware of the rust-colored stains littering his entire body and clothes. He can smell the metallic scent of iron and it makes his stomach turn.

JJ doesn't even wait for the car to stop before jumping out and sprinting into the ER. He's sure he looks like a madman with crazed eyes and blood-stained skin, but he doesn't care. 

If you die, you'll have sacrificed yourself to save him. That's simply not knowledge he's capable of living with, and he needs to know you're going to be okay. 

The receptionist looks like a deer caught in headlights as her eyes rake over his form and he skips the niceties altogether. 

"I'm here for my girlfriend, she was just brought in with a gunshot wound."

His words slur as he blurts them out and after a second she puts it together and gives him a sympathetic look. 

"She's in emergency surgery, sir. There's no update yet, I'm sorry." 

His hands slam against the counter and the woman who looks to be only a couple years older than him flinches.

"That's not good enough!"

She's about to respond when he feels a pair of hands on his shoulders yanking him back. 

"I'm sorry about him, he's under a lot of stress."

She nods with a weary smile and John B forces him over to a chair. 

"You're not doing anyone any good if you get kicked out."

It's dark by the time a doctor comes with any news, several hours having passed. 

As soon as he hears your name called, JJ leaps to his feet and rushes over. 

"Are you the boyfriend?"

JJ nods and the doctor sighs. 

"She lost a lot of blood. The bullet just barely missed an artery, a millimeter to the left and this would be a different conversation. We did a transfusion and were able to repair the damage. She's got a long road to recovery, but she'll be just fine."

JJ nearly collapses at the revelation and he feels four pairs of hands holding him up. 

"Applying pressure to the wound and providing CPR saved her life. You did good, son."

JJ nods, unable to speak and John B asks what they're all thinking. 

"Can we see her?"

The doctor ponders for a moment before nodding. 

"It's after visiting hours but given the circumstance, I'll make an exception. Only one of you though. The rest can come back at 8 am during regular hours."

It doesn't even need to be discussed and JJ follows the man silently. Nerves claw at his throat as he nears a door and he mentally prepares for what's on the other side. 

Part of him thinks this is a cruel joke and that you're really gone. He won't be able to breathe until he sees you with his own two eyes.

"She's still unconscious. She'll probably be disoriented when she wakes up, but we've got her on heavy painkillers. She shouldn't feel much discomfort."

The doctor pats him on the back before leaving and he takes a deep breath while pushing the heavy door open. 

Relief washes over him when he sees your sleeping figure on the bed. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he just walked into your room while you were napping. 

His eyes take in your appearance and fresh tears sting his waterline.

Your face looks peaceful but there's oxygen in your nose and IVs sticking out of your bruised arms. 

All things considered, you don't look too bad but his heart still breaks. Guilt eats at him and in typical JJ fashion, he blames himself. 

He should have known you'd try to interfere and stopped you. He failed at his one-sworn duty, and it almost got you killed.

His hand laces with yours as he sits in the chair at your bedside. He lets his head rest against your arm and just memorizes your scent and the feeling of your soft skin. 

Even though the strong aroma of iodine and hand sanitizer you still smell like cotton candy. 

He almost lost this. And he can't fathom never hearing your laugh again or seeing the way your nose scrunches when you get frustrated with him. 

He dozes off and a few hours later he's awoken by your body shifting under him. He wipes the drool from his mouth and looks up to see your eyes moving rapidly. 

He's watched you sleep enough times to know you're about to wake up and leans up to kiss your forehead. 

You blink a few times trying to place your whereabouts. The room is still dark because of the curtains, but you know it's foreign. 

The sterile tinge of alcohol burns your nose and your face scrunches up when you feel all the wires attached to you. 

"Am I in the hospital?"

Your voice is raspy from lack of water and JJ nods. 

"Yeah, you gave us quite a scare."

You roll your eyes playfully, and JJ thinks that even in the pale light coming from the machines you look ethereal.

"You know me, I've got a flair for the dramatics. Gotta keep it interesting."

JJ lets out a laugh and you smile brightly at the man you love. 

A thick air covers the two of you and you squeeze his hand. 

"I was so scared. I thought you were going to die."

Your heart clenches at how small he sounds and your hand reaches up to cup his cheek. 

"I'm sorry. I don't regret doing it, but I do regret causing you pain."

His head turns to press his lips to your palm and he lingers for a moment before pulling back just slightly. 

"I'm not mad. It's my job to protect you, just maybe don't give me so much overtime."

He has a teasing smile on his face and you can't help but laugh. It's silent for a beat before you speak again. 

"This place is definitely haunted."

JJ stares at you for a moment and chuckles.

"Oh, for sure."

He pauses for a second then lurches forward. 

"Boo!"

You gasp and slap his arm, playful disapproval on your face. 

"Don't do that!"

You're interrupted by a knock on the door and look over. 

"Hey, there she is!"

You're greeted by the rest of the pogues and open your arms for a hug. They each take turns embracing you, being careful of your injuries, and take a seat. 

"So, did you see a white light?"

Sarah kicks John B with a scolding glare and you giggle.

"It's okay. No, mostly just blinding pain and then darkness."

JJ looks down and you can tell it's hard for him to hear. 

"Enough about that, tell me something funny."

The group dissolves into conversation and laughter, a smile on your face as you look at your found family. 

"I'm so happy you're okay." JJ whispers and you look over at him. 

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Maybank."

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #outer banks #outer banks angst #outer banks imagine

[k2ntoss]

Omg omg omg

Pls do “shit— do that again” and “this is so wrong” with dickie grayson pretty please

(The second prompt gives enemies to lovers vibes SO MUCH, so if it’s included the better.)

— ❤️‍🩹 xx

SECOND ANON WITH AN EMOJI, LET'S FUCKING CELEBRATE!! first of all, thank you so much for this request, i have an idea buzzing into my head and if i don't post it i'll go insane (i'm already insane) and second... i'm listening to the weeknd so yeah....

“do that again- shit, just like that, right there.” + "this is wrong... so wrong." (plus enemies to lovers trope omg yes please!!!)

dick has never been known to be a bad detective, his partners adore him and so does every kid and person he helps, he does his job so well everyone is aware that whenever he's got a new case he will be at it all the time but there is just one person that doesn't really agrees with that, dick knows it and it gets on his nerves because it's always just his cases and investigations the ones that you observe and deny before they reach the court.

he really hated the moment he had to go present his case to the prosecutor, mostly when it was you who was assigned to it and what's worse it's that dick knows that you take it personal because there's no way on earth you let mobs or criminals to pay for justice and that is pretty much clear when you have an amazing percentage of cases won where criminals end up getting what they deserve.

"you have to be joking," at this point is almost a routine. dick arrives to your office with a folder filled with documents and reports from the officers and his own, a box full of evidence he picked up and sent to check to the labs, all the signed paperwork and the hope that you won't send him back to re-do all the work from zero "everything is in that folder!"

"detective, would you lower your damn voice?" you'd ask him, the snark on your tone is upsetting and dick has to take a deep breath to cool down a bit "there are several forms you haven't filled, how do you expect me to work like this?" and it was true, paperwork was important even if everyone hated doing it.

"you can't return the whole investigation for a couple of stupid papers! it's a big case, if you return it to the station we'll have to let the criminals go because the time runs up." dick is starting to lose every trace of patience and good will he has, hands gripping the fabric of his trousers and his hands clench a little more when you look at him, unamused and with any intention to help him.

"i can't help you if you don't bring everything in order, not to say that there are so many things that don't make sense on your files," you say, reading through some pages "this doesn't looks like a real detective's work, how do you expect me to do anything with this?" you leave the folder down, looking at him with your arms crossed over your chest and leaning back on the chair behind your desk.

dick is about to scream, you're telling him his work sucks and sending him back to do it all over again when he is sure there are cases pilling up back in the station but he has to hold it back. it's weird that the person he despises the most isn't some villain he fights at night but a prosecutor that he desperately wants to shut up for once and for all.

you are way too cocky for your own good and since the first case you dismised from his hands he has wanted to show you why he had the reputation he had, he's fighting his rage right now because he knew that in this case you were right and it would be stupid to keep pushing but he was too stubborn and a little too lost on how much he liked to get in your nerves.

"there's no way you can't help me with that case," he says and dick's voice is now an indicator of how upset he is feeling, not only because of you dismissing his work but also because this time he wasn't right (not that he has been before, he always forgot a paper or the whole background of a piece of evidence because he was too distracted on thinking how jolly the moment would be when you'd had to accept his work) "you just don't want to do it and that's bullshit, you should be dismissed from all the station's cases because this is personal."

"detective grayson," you warn him, if it was on your hands you'd help him just as you always tried to help but as a prosecutor you had to stick to the rules and make sure your coworkers did just the same "i'd suggest you to lower your tone and keep your emotions in check, the fact that i can't work with this investigation it's not my fault." you said, letting the folder fall back on your desk before standing up.

there went the last string of patience and good will dick had, he stood up but stayed still until you started walking your way to the door and he'd be lying if your figure wasn't distracting him a little bit with the way that greenish button up shirt hung a little loose on your shoulders but gave a hint of your figure. he had to shake his thoughts away and as soon as he saw your hand reaching for the door he darted towards you, pushing the door closed shut again and standing a little too close to you.

dick is hovering over you, looking down as his eyes fix on yours and there's no way to hide the surprise of the sudden outburst that causes you to flinch a little.

"you think so high of yourself, y/n," dick hisses as his eyes narrow, he leans in closer and it sends a spark that danced between anger and pure expectation from what he could do "you think that you make the fucking calls and that is just so upsetting, i wish i could just bring you down from that cloud and show you just what you are." he points at you and it's distracting because dick grayson has always managed to keep his anger in check.

"keep your emotions in check, detective" it was another warning, it came throught gritted teeth and narrowed eyes as you stand still ready to snap back at him on the first chance "am i the one that thinks too high of themself? let me break it to you, grayson, at least i'm trying to do my job as i have to."

the banter between you two has always been a little more snarky and less heated, not to be taken so serious because what you wanted to do was to push dick to do his absolute best so you could also help people to be safe out on the streets, living their lives but this time was just different because there was something else fueling the words.

there's a spark that ignites inside of dick as soon as your words hit close to home and next thing you know is that you're being cornered against the door of your office and he managed to inmobilize you; he grabs your shoulder to turn you around, his right leg between yours and his face right next to yours.

"you think you're better than the rest of us just because you get to take the credit of putting the bastards we catch behind bars but you just have to sit pretty here," he speaks lowly into your ear, his tone making it clear that he was letting it all out, months of bottled up frustration flowing out of him "you do nothing but talk, that's all that mouth of yours can do and it was just time someone put you in your place."

"richard grayson, you better back the fuck up now or–" you start, the warning hanging in the air and interrupted by a low grunt that just escaped your lips when he pressed a bit more against you just to mess with your nerves, causing his thigh to press a bit more between your legs and sending a jolt through your spine that mixed with all the emotions "do that again– shit," and even tho he is surprised and a little taken aback by your reaction he complies, moving closer until he could feel his leg pressed up against your clothed core and he decided to grind it teasingly "just like that, right there..."

"that's all it takes to turn off your brain?" he asks mockingly, his hand pressed between your shoulders as his lips brush against your era and it's easy to hear the smirk on dick's voice "pin you against the door and let you grind yourself against my thigh? it's pathetic how a smartmouth like you turns to a puddle when someone touches your cunt like this."

yeah, it's pathetic because he managed to shut you up without even trying and he's proud of it. his hand trails down your back until it reaches the lower part of it making sure to hold your body in a way you couldn't move your hips to grind on his thigh.

"go on, why don't you move?" he asks teasingly, his hand pressing harder when he felt the jerk of your hips and an amused laugh escapes his throat when you grunt frustrated "who would have thought that miss great prosecutor was such a desperate little slut." and he could have stopped there, make you help him because you'd be too embarrased to deny him anything after putting this show for him but dick decided to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your neck that made your breath catch on your throat.

"dick– fuck, don't be such an ass" you say in a hoarse tone, looking at the ceiling as you try to rock your hips once again, feeling yourself able to do so when dick's hand wanders from your back to your stomach and then up, resting between your breasts as he breathes you in.

"pretty fucked up, isn't it?" he asks against your neck, nibbling on the side of your neck as his fingers start undoing the buttons of your shirt while you grind against his thigh and everything feels so forbidden, one of your hands moving to lock the door because there was no way you'd let yourself get caught being groped by the detective you've told all your department you hated.

it wasn't news for your coworkers that dick and you had a long history of not getting alone but truth be told, you just wanted to make dick give his best because that would also allow you to give your best. it was a win-win, if only he saw it that way because you weren't trying to buy more time for the criminals to make up evidence or build new alibis or get fake witnesses.

dick gets your shirt open, his hands messily working on pulling your bra down and growling lowly when he saw your breasts spilling out against the door, his eyes moving from your chest to the way your features contorted from the way you were getting yourself off like this. with every jerk of your hips he could feel your ass pressed against his cock, the bulge inside his dressing pants now hard in a way you could feel it againt your body.

he lets go of you, turning you around and ignoring your grunt when you were left without that pleasurable feeling on your aching pussy. his hands gripping your hips as he presses a hungry kiss on your lips, demanding and bruising between the smirk it draws from him when you kiss him back with the same need as your hands undo his shirt, pulling it away from his body as he manages to walk until he is sitting on your desk with you sitting on his lap.

the messy making out is only interrupted when the clothes come out of your body, heavy breathing as he squeezes and gropes your flesh into his hands in a rush of pure lust that's fueled by the way your wetness feels when pressed against his hard on as he moves you to tease your pussy, his shaft moving between your folds and the wet sounds are only muffled by the low moans and growls you both try to keep as low as you can.

"this is wrong..." you say breathlessly, feeling how dick picks your body up with his arm around your waist as his free hand lines his tip with your entrance and he grunts into your neck when you are the one that slides down on him with your eyes closed shut "so wrong, god."

it's not much when your body moves on its own, going up and down on his cock as he looks up at you, hands gripping your waist to hold you as his lips are around one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it while your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

you'd never set yourself into this kind of situations but there was no time to think about how wrong this was when it felt so good, the way he filled you up as you rode him slowly, teasing him to grip your hips in order to set the pace to make you bounce on him.

"you look so good like that, fuck," he whispers against your chin when you start grinding on him, his hands on your hips so hard that his fingers bruise your skin as he thrusts deeper into your pussy "so desperate fucking yourself like a bitch in heat, you think you're using my cock for your pleasure but you're nothing but a pretty toy."

his words work as a turn on, the way he looks at you with hunger and need as he pounds harshly inside your cunt makes you moan without care on who could hear you.

"you look so pretty like that, so tight around me" he grunts into your ear and it's right there when he takes the lead, setting a fast pace as he holds your hips to make your body bounce "you like it like this? when you're being used like a dirty whore, sweetheart?"

"i like it so much, fuck–" you whine and the sound of your voice makes him chuckle, this was pretty bad because the degrading words were making you needier and the way you couldn't hide it made you appear more like a slut for him, clenching around him the closer you got to your climax as he hit all the right spots with each thrust he gave.

it was hard to talk for you, between moans and whines of pure delight that came after each stroke dick made as he kissed your jaw but he had no problem on doing it while his hand moved and reached that space on your pussy.

his thumb pressed against your clit made you shiver into his arms, whinning pathetically as he played with your sensitivity with a wide grin "look at the little mess you are, always so collected and now you're here with your legs all spread for me to fuck you into a brainless slut."

"dick– i'm close" you say, eyes teary and voice broken as your face finds a place into the crook of his neck but it's not too much time until he finds your gaze, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss into your lips before he pulls back and nods, thrusting in a faster pace and with deeper strokes.

"c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart." he growls against your ear, both hands holding your waist as your movements become sloppier and erratic, the tension on your belly building more and more until your orgasm hits your whole body making your walls clench tighter around him "that's it, that's a fucking good girl... i'll pull out now, yeah?"

and he doesn't wait for your response, knowing you won't be able to think straight while you were still on your high and with you still straddling his lap dick moves, strocking his cock until he is throbbing into his fist before he reaches his own climax, painting your stomach with those milky white streaks.

maybe, just maybe now he could find a way to fix his work without feeling so upset about it.

#⭒ 📬 ⭒ #❤️‍🩹 anon #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson smut #dick grayson blurb #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x fem!reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x fem!reader #nightwing #dc comics reader insert #dc comics imagine #dcu #dc comics #dc universe

[auteurdelabre]

Please, Mister Miller? (FINAL) BFD!JOel x f!Reader

Words: 6.0k

rating: 18+

warnings: Infidelity, slutty Joel, unprotected P in V, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, (including 'slut') , catching feelings.

a/n: started as a smutty one-shot and y’all wanted more! I hope you like the conclusion for these two. Unsure if I’ll do a one-off for them in the future. If not I think this is a real nice finale for these two desperate horny sluts. 

masterlist here

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

"It was so weird," Sarah tells you later that evening as you both finalize your packing. "Dad said he wanted to go for coffee and then he just comes out with this whole speech about how much he loves me and that he supports my choices and he trusts my decision making." 

She shakes her head incredulously, a beaming smile on her face. She's sitting on the edge of her bed watching you pack. 

"Wow," you say pretending to be shocked as you fold a pair of your jeans. "Did you tell him about Charlie?"

"Yeah. And he was so cool about it! Says if I'm happy then he's happy."

You feel your chest swell with affection for Joel in that moment. Because he could have ignored your suggestions, could have ratted you out. But instead he listened, he digested and he learned.

"See, I told you that your dad would be cool about it."

You look at your clothes tucked away in your suitcase, feeling a mixture of emotions. It's bittersweet to be leaving the Miller home. Not just because of Joel, but because this house is a home. Movie nights, baking, laughing. You can't remember a holiday like this one in recent memory. 

Even with Conrad's family up in Vermont their holidays were more restrained, more about appearances. Here on Rancher Street everyone genuinely likes to spend time with one another. And yes, while it’s been fun fooling around with Joel you’ve enjoyed the laughter and hair braiding sessions in Sarah’s room as she tells you about Charlie or Tess offering to teach you how she makes her special peppermint squares so you can make them at home.

And as you sit beside Joel at dinner that night, marveling at the way Tess has made use of the leftover Christmas turkey you can't help but press your thigh into his with something like affection. He doesn't flinch, doesn't move away. He just continues eating and talking with Sarah and Tess seated across from you about returning to school. 

"I'm not really excited to go back," she confesses. "Gonna miss everyone around here."

"You'll still have me," you joke, knowing very well that she's talking about Charlie. 

"Very true," Sarah smiles. Tess launches into how much she misses Sarah around the house. Your attention drifts to the man beside you, the man who smells so fucking good. 

The man who you are terrified you have real feelings for. 

No. It can’t be real feelings. For fucks sake he’s just sexy and you want him. That’s all that this is. If you like him them you’re a piece of shit. He’s married. It was bad enough that you fucked him over and over. Falling for him would make you pathetic.

Very subtly under the protection of the ornate tablecloth Tess insisted on, you let your hand stray to Joel's lap. At first it's a gentle rub of your thumb along his thigh, then a pinky edging the area near his groin. You feel him begin to swell under your digit and you squirm in your seat delightedly.  

At this point Joel shifts, trying to shoot you a warning look but you're ignoring him, pretending to be fascinated by what Tess has to say about the meal preparation.

"And how do you get the turkey so moist?" You ask, pretending to listen as she goes into detail about her meal while you're stroking her husband's cock through his pants. 

You know why you’re doing it; it's a feeling of being territorial over Joel which is useless because he isn't yours. Joel Miller is married. He's your best friend’s dad. He's in love with his wife and nothing can change that. 

You feel Joel's hand on your wrist, and you think he means to move your hand off of him. You almost hum when you feel him curving your hand to grip him around the head, tugging slowly a moment before pulling you off completely. The silent "later" implied in his actions. 

///

"Let's watch a movie after dinner," Tess suggests on as the dinner plates are cleared by Joel. "All of us together."

"Sounds good," you say as Sarah agrees before looking at you. You nod in agreement as Tess goes to make the popcorn and Sarah says she has to call Charlie quick. 

“Behave during this one,” Joel murmurs from behind you. You feel Joel's hand brush against your ass as you pass in front of him in the hallway, squeezing and you hold in a smile.

When everyone returns to the living room Tess flicks through the guide and you all decide on a cheesy hallmark movie to watch together. You sit next to Tess and Joel on the sofa, popcorn bowl on your lap and you watch the film and for once your thoughts aren't depraved. 

You all tease Sarah for sitting too close to the TV as per usual. You laugh at the ridiculous and predictable plot. The only time Joel touches you is when he passes you a soda you requested and his forefinger drifts over yours. 

"We're going to miss having you around," Tess says during one of the commercials. "We've loved having you both here."

Joel nods, his eyes on the television. You don’t let yourself look at him for too long. Instead you focus on Tess’ smiling face next to you. You give her a smile, feeling your cheeks pinking.

"Thanks. I really like it here."

Sarah flashes you a grin from her seat by the TV. You feel a strange feeling forming as you look from her to Tess. You didn't want to like the woman beside you, but you do. She's nice. She's a bit bland, but that's not a crime. You stomach twists as you think of all the kindness she’s shown you.

Guilt. It's finally arrived right on time. 

The movie ends and Sarah announces she's going to bed. Tess does the same giving a stretch. Joel murmurs something about working on some work emails, pulling out his phone and tapping away. 

You stand, going to follow Sarah but Joel grabs your wrist as you walk by, stopping you from sailing by him. You glance down to see him looking up at you, brow raised in question.  

"We shouldn't," you whisper before extricating yourself from his warm grip. You don't look back as you head to the guest room. 

///

Hours later you find yourself unable to sleep. The ache between your legs is almost as bad as the crack starting in your heart. 

Joel. Joel. Joel. 

It started as a casual fuck, a simple need to feel him everywhere. The connection was palpable from the start and when he'd finally given in? Eating you out on the table, fucking you in the guest room, the truck, it had been magic. 

But it's not just the sex is it? 

No, it's not. Thinking of a real life with Joel Miller makes your body break out in delicious shivers, prickling with desire. Imagining how it would be to fuck him without fear of being caught, to wear his ring, to cook for him, to have his arm around your waist as you go to the movies. 

Fuck. You're so fucking stupid. 

A glance at your phone tells you it's almost three am. You push yourself out of the bed, starting to pace around the small guest room before deciding that you need some fresh air. 

The house is quiet and dark when you creep out into the hallway. You decide the garage will be a good spot to cool down without alerting the entire household and you slip into it.

"What're you doin' in here?"

You nearly jump back at the soft voice. You glance over to see a small light from the corner, hooked to a woodworking table. Joel is seated before the table, a scattering of wood and tools sat on it. He's looking at you with surprise. 

"I'm sorry," you stammer. "I didn't think anyone would be in here."

"S' alright," Joel says, tilting his head inviting you to stay. You close the door behind you before shuffling over to where he sits at his workbench. 

"What are you doing?"

"Wood carving," he tells you. "Relaxes me."

You remember when you’d noticed it earlier, the collection of tools and small figures scattered across the top. Your eyes don’t rest there long, they quickly move to Joel’s handsome face.

"Why are you carving at three in the morning?"

"Probably the same reason you're up wanderin' the house." 

His dark eyes capture yours and you feel your body responding in kind. Your nipples tighten under your nightdress. Joel's gaze dips to them before he's forcing his attention back to the table. 

You watch him sweep away the wood shavings, tidying up the area. It feels calm to watch him do this chore and not for the first time you muse that you would love a life watching Joel do domestic tasks. 

"S' funny, after the first time I thought you were a fucking demon sent to ruin my life," Joel says quietly with a smirk, twisting the carving tool between his fingertips before placing it in the drawer. "Now I realize s'the opposite. You got me and Tess back on track, you got me and Sarah really talkin' and you made me feel..."

He trails off, looking shy until you gently nudge him with your shoulder, brows raised. 

"Feel what?" 

"You made me feel sexy again," he says unable to look at you as he does. The corner of your mouth hooks up into a grin. 

"You really didn't think you were sexy, Joel?"

"I mean, I know I'm not awful to look at," Joel says chuckling embarrassedly. "Just... Ya know. You get older; feel like your best days are behind you..."

"Not the case for you, I promise."

Now Joel allows himself to look at you, his throat bobbing. A look comes into his eyes that softens around the edges. 

"You are a special girl, you know."

"Yeah yeah," you say rolling your eyes and flushing with embarrassment. You're not familiar with praise like this; earnest and gentle and not whispered huskily as he comes inside you.

You go to head back to the guest room but Joel's hand reaches out and holds you by the hip. You prepare yourself for him to push you to your knees but instead he urges you lean back against the workbench, your body tilted back between his legs. 

You breathe heavily, feeling his endless eyes studying your face. His head moves forward and you feel his soft mouth kiss the side of your neck. You whisper a sigh at the delicate sensation. Joel's hands slide under your nightdress, coming to curl around the hem of your panties. 

You think of Tess and how kind she's been to you and a new surge of guilt overwhelms you. You pull back, immediately hating the feeling of being out of his orbit but knowing you shouldn’t keep going. 

"Joel maybe we shouldn't-"

"Don't start pretending you don't want it now," Joel murmurs up at you. "S'too late for that and we both know it. Get these off for me."

You know he's right. You allow him to pull your panties down over your legs before stepping out of them. Joel shoves them into the pocket of his sweatpants. Your face heats up as Joel's pushes your nightdress up until he sees the shine of your sex already glossy on your inner thighs. 

"Show me the rest." 

You bring up your nightdress, bunching it under your chin, showing him your tits and smiling when he groans softly. 

His head dips forward again, mouth coming to press a delicate kiss against your sternum. You feel your breath leave you when his hands slide up and come to cup your breasts before squeezing and kneading. 

"Beautiful girl."

You let out a soft whine until Joel's eyes narrow on yours. He brings his mouth to your cheek. 

"Gotta be quiet," Joel whispers huskily against your ear. "Everyone's asleep. Can you be quiet for me?" 

You nod emphatically, urging his mouth to your breast, hand at the base of his skull, tangled in his hair. He smirks up at you before his mouth moves to your nipple, eyes closing as his teeth begin to worry the straining nub. You swallow your moan at the electric shocks that zap through you. He licks and sucks, working you up before pulling back. 

"Can't wait any more," Joel whispers. 

Then Joel is on his knees, kissing down your abdomen, your hips as you quiver under his touch. His hands hold you in place as he presses lust fueled kisses down your body, invisible marks that claim you. Then he settles there, kissing just below your navel. 

"Wanna thank you for all you did for me," Joel rumbles. You hold in a whimper, allowing Joel to take your right leg and shift it over his shoulder, opening you to him. You watch as he slowly licks a stripe up the center of your cunt, eyes on you the entire time.

Fuck.

Your hands grip the edge of the table, eyes shuttering. Joel smirks, pleased with your reaction. His hands go over your ass, skimming there and tilting you so that his lips can graze against your labia more easily. 

"So pretty," he croons, licking gently, his eyes falling shut as he savors the moment. "’N so fucking sweet." 

He kisses your inner thigh so slowly and reverently it makes tears come to your eyes but you blink them back when he gazes back up at you. 

"You're gonna be a good girl for me aren't you?"

His full lips curl into a smile when you whimper a soft yes and then his mouth descends over your cunt, tongue piercing you. You groan in quiet harmony with his hands tightening around your hips. He flicks his tongue against your clit, growling softly when you whimper at the sensation. 

"Shhhh," he hushes. 

You cover your mouth with your hand, hips undulating against Joel's greedy mouth. He feels so good, so hungry, so desperate for you. It makes your body tingle all over as his mouth works over your clit, sucking gently as you buck against him. 

His fingertips dimple your ass, pulling your cunt now firmly against his mouth. He presses his lips there giving sloppy open mouthed kisses as your spine curls. His nose nudges your clit, rubbing as his tongue laps and flicks.

He works at you longer and your fingers twist in his curls. You force yourself to memorize everything about the moment. The way his eyes are shut lightly as he moans into your cunt, the way his hair is so soft under your fingers, his body so warm against you. 

You soon edge your orgasm, feeling that fire being stoked higher and bigger. It makes your thighs tremble against Joel's ears and he smiles against your pussy. 

"Joel," you whisper in a broken whisper. "I'm getting close."

"S'not my name," Joel says muffled from between your thighs. 

"Gonna come, M-mister Miller."

"Mhmm," he offers between your legs as his eyes dart back to your face, his mouth still on your pussy. "Show Daddy how his good girl comes for him."

Your body tightens and Joel hums softly in approval as you come for him, your heart thundering. You feel your copious arousal being lapped up by the man between your legs who sighs as if this is all he's ever wanted in life.

You swallow the loud cry that has been building within your lungs and cover your mouth tightly. So tightly that when you remove them moments later their imprint remains like a ghostly kiss. 

"Beautiful," Joel whispers, pressing his mouth to your cheek as he stands. "You did so fucking good for me."

The sound of his praise lifts you everywhere. You feel lighter, you feel joyful. You want so much to please him, to feel more of him, to make him feel as good as you feel. 

"You next," you whisper huskily, kissing his earlobe.

"Don't need to," Joel says, shivering as your tongue comes to trace the flesh of his lobe. You hear him trying to muffle a groan deep in his throat. "Just wanted to make you feel good."

Your hand slides down the front of his sweatpants, hand gripping his already hard length and smiling as he curls into you. You start to stroke him through the fabric, your free hand on the back of his neck, twisting in his curls.

"We have to do something about this," you tease softly. 

"You make me so goddam hard," he breathes against your temple as if this is shocking, as if no woman has ever made him this hard before.  

"Good," you whisper against his ear, making sure to drag the last syllable before flicking your tongue over his earlobe. "Need you hard so I can ride you."

"Christ," Joel groans gently, his hips jutting forward into your palm. You drag your teeth down his neck, feeling his pulse under your mouth. He tugs himself free from his sweatpants and you can see the lust in his dark eyes.  

Joel watches you move, lifting your nightdress over your head until you're there between he and the workbench totally naked. 

"Gorgeous," he murmurs, eyes roving over your body. 

His hands slide up to cup your breasts again and he lets his thumbs graze along your nipples, gratified by your little shiver at the sensation. He watches them pebble for him, his tongue coming to drag against his lower lip. Your hand circles the head of his weeping cock, tugging as you flash him your most innocent smile.   

“Please fuck me, Mister Miller.”

Joel lets out a long shudder sigh, brows saddling. You lean forward to nip along his jaw, your eyelashes low and slowly blinking.

"Fuck me hard," you tell him, tilting him to sit on his stool. You're pushing his sweatpants down over his thighs and straddling him. "Give me something to remember."

"I can do that."

You hold in a squeak as he grips you around the waist and tugs your sopping cunt along his shaft. He slides between your legs slowly, extending the sensation of entering you. It's the last time and he wants to make it count. 

He groans when you finally slide the rest of the way down his length, gasping quietly as he fills you. You sit on his lap like this, ankles crossing behind him. 

You both don't move. You just sit there, Joel's cock buried within you throbbing. Your eyes search his face as his hands come to hold you by the lower back. 

You finally shift slowly, rolling your hips slightly. Joel's eyelids flutter as you angle pelvis, milking him as you rock against him. His hands splay over your lower back, guiding your movements, his eyes where you two join. 

"Feels so good," Joel murmurs, his eyes barely open. 

Your arms wrap around his neck and you know he won't kiss you, so you rest your temple against his. It allows you to hear his shuddering breath in your ear and feel the fabric of his t-shirt against your naked chest. 

"You make me feel so full," you whisper, hips rocking against his. 

"Good," Joel breathes. 

“Wanna stay like this forever," you mutter, eyes falling shut. His arms circle you, holding you a bit tighter against him. You shift once more, feeling his cock throb inside you. 

Your lips graze his neck, dragging over the stubble of his jaw. He doesn't move, just keeps still when your mouth brushes his. 

"I'm gonna miss this" you whisper. "Gonna miss this thick cock fucking me."

Joel groans into you cleavage, his hips starting to press up, and his cock nudging inside your walls. 

"Don't know how I'm gonna survive without this pussy," Joel rumbles, his hands guiding your hips to continue rocking over him slowly. 

"We could keep in contact," you offer, pulling back to search his face. "Texting?"

"Don't know that it's a good idea," Joel supplies after a beat. 

"Maybe not," you agree, pelvis tilting. "Too bad. I'm really gonna miss you."

Then something changes. Maybe it's the realization that this is too intimate, to slow and sensual. Maybe you’ve shown your emotionally caught up hand. Whatever the reason Joel suddenly laces his hands under your ass and carries you over to the far wall of the garage. He presses your spine against the cool brick, his breathing ragged. He thrusts into you, your legs still crossed at the ankle behind him. You hold onto him, unable to tear your eyes from his handsome face. 

"You'd really wanna text me?" He murmurs.

"Yes," you nod. 

"Send me slutty little photos while I'm here with my wife?" Joel pants. "Make me have to go to the bathroom and jerk off? Be my dirty little secret?"

"Fuck yes," you say excitedly. The thought is turning you on so much and you can’t find it in yourself to hate it. "Yes I want that."

You hold onto his shoulders for purchase and begin to rut against his hips. He pins you to the wall as he begins to pound into you, his teeth clenched and his eyes on your mouth. You bite you lower lip to stop from crying out. 

"Maybe I'll call you one night," Joel whispers against your ear, his full bottom lip grazing the lobe. "Tell you how to touch yourself. Hear those pretty little sounds you make."

Your head tilts back now at the very thought of it. Joel continues to rut into you against the wall, his thrusts going harder. But his hands grip yours, pinning them to the wall under his wide palms. 

"Lemme see those tits bounce," he grinds out, eyes fixed on your jolting chest when he fucks up into you. "Uh huh, just like that."

A thought suddenly causes you to pale. 

"The doors unlocked," you tell him as you remember. The Joel of you first time together would panic and would shuffle over and close it. This Joel just fucks you harder with a strange little smirk on his face that you've never seen before. 

"Then I guess I'm gonna have to make sure you're quiet."

His wide hand goes over your mouth, sealing your cries of pleasure and it shouldn't turn you on so much but it does. The thrusting increases in tempo and the slap of your skin against one another is the only sound heard in the quiet garage. 

"Thought about fucking you in here so many times," Joel admits. "Wanted to fuck you everywhere. Fuck this pussy raw."

He's grunting quietly as if he's trying so hard to keep himself from growling. His eyes are on yours, his pupils blown out.

"Use me," you tell him behind his palm, hips tilted and cunt glossy. 

He does. His hips slam into yours so harshly it takes your breath away. 

He pulls back to watch his cock sliding into your sopping cunt. He makes a wounded sound, his eyes blinking rapidly as if he can’t believe its happening. He’s completely overtaken by lust, his teeth clenching as he fucks into you brutally, his taut belly slamming into yours.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans against your ear as he bottoms out again.

He doesn't even care about your clit or your pleasure right now. He's chasing his own high, desperate for release and that makes your arousal flood over his cock. He notices and gives a soft nibble to your neck. 

"You like me filling this pussy up? Using you like a little fuck doll?"

You nod behind his hand, your eyes cheating to the back of your head at the vulgarity. He keeps hitting within you deep, making your body twitch in delight. 

"Take it all," he pants against your jaw. "Take all my fucking cock like a good little slut."

You whimper in agreement, wrists pinned to the wall by his hands when all you want to do is run your nails down his back, marking him as yours. You want this to happen over and over again. You want him to use you, to fuck you, to make love to you. You want to suck his cock and lick the come he offers you. You want him to fuck your ass because no one has before and you want to give it to him. You want him to have everything you can give him and you want it over and over.

His finger starts to rub over your clit, his breath huffing over your cheeks as he watches you. You were already so close just at the friction of his cock between your legs. But now, your eyes flutter open to fix on his.

“I need it,” he tells you.

“I know.”

You swallow your second release, your spine arching against the cool brick as you come for him. He watches all of this with saddled brows and the faintest whimper escaping him. You moan gently, eyes opening to see him still watching you.

He releases your remaining wrists so both his broad hands can go around your waist, holding you in place as his hips begin to roll. His cock circles within you, stirring your ardor for him. He's so gorgeous, so blissfully fucked out, rambling about how you feel so perfect around him. His mouth is parted as he groans gently, eyes starting to roll back as his head moves to your shoulder.

"Tell me you'll come see me at college."

You say it impulsively but there's an edge of desperation in your voice. But Joel isn't thinking, he's cunt-struck and his hips don't slow. 

"I will," Joel groans into your neck. "Fuck, I will."

"Tell me you'll fuck me in my bed there," you say as he thrusts into you against the wall so hard you see stars. 

"Yes," Joel whispers, head dropping against your neck as his hips slap against yours. "I'll fuck you there, baby. Fuck you anywhere you want."

Baby. Baby. Baby.

He's yours in some way. In some small incremental way he's yours. You don't know if he means it, but you think he might. 

"Come deep," you groan softly in his ear. "Please, Joel. W-wanna feel you tomorrow."

"Yes," he pants out. "Gonna get my come good girl. S'all for you."

He begins thrusting brutally into you against the wall of his garage, hips slamming into yours, hands gripping your ass so tightly it aches. You feel him release with you, warm and thick. You watch his face, seeing the pinched look to his features before he relaxes and his head tilts forward. 

Your damp foreheads press together as you both catch your breath, your breathing starting to slowly match in rhythm. Despite the circumstances it feels almost intimate.

He lowers your feet to the floor, arms still loosely around your waist. You stand shakily, your palms against his chest as you find your balance. You watch as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants and leans down to grab your nightdress from where it's fallen onto the floor. He tugs it on over your head, smoothing it over your body, his hands lingering. 

Your eyes flutter up to meet his open gaze and without thinking you press your mouth to his. His lips are warm and soft. Joel pauses at the contact, about to pull away but then you feel him relent, mouth opening and his tongue seeking yours briefly. His hands begin tightening around the pinch of your waist but then he must remember himself because then he pulls back, planting a slow kiss to the corner of your mouth before straightening. 

"G'night."

"G'night."

He nods, watching you leave the garage, heading back to the guest room. 

///

He's nowhere to be seen the next morning. Sarah notices it first as she passes you a bowl of cereal. When her stepmom walks into the kitchen Sarah notices that she looks frazzled and is muttering to herself.

"Where's dad, Tess?"

"I think your dad has a cold," Tess says with a frown, patting at her pockets. "He's in bed. Says he doesn't wanna get you both sick right before you get back to school. Don’t worry I’ll be driving you two to the airport. Don’t want you missing your flight."

Your stomach drops. You won't even be able to say goodbye to him. No quiet thank you, no last image of his dark eyes on yours. Just driving in silence to the airport as you mourn a relationship that never was.

The three of you eat a quick breakfast before you load up your luggage into the car. You go back inside for your remaining belongings and any last minute things left behind.  Sarah asks you to take her hat to the car with you.

“I’ll be right there, just gonna say goodbye to my dad.”

You linger in the kitchen listening to the sound of his rumbling voice through the door and you think about waiting outside the room to say your goodbye as well. But it would look weird going into his bedroom to say goodbye. As far as everyone knows you barely know Joel.

Last night was your farewell to Joel Miller. 

"Before I forget," Tess says to Sarah as you both load into the car. She reaches into her coat pocket. "Your dad made you this. Says he didn't want you to forget him while you were away at school."

Sarah opens her box and gives a little giggle. "Awww dad." She pulls out a small carved soccer ball. Sarah is at school on a sports scholarship so it's only appropriate. 

“That’s so sweet,” Tess says with an indulgent smile. You nod, forcing a smile onto your face as well before looking out the window to the house. A part of you had been desperately hoping that his window blinds would be open, but no such luck.

You swallow your disappointment at having no tangible totem from Joel.  No artifact to take back with you. No physical reminder of what you two shared and so you sit in the car with your eyes downcast into your palms. 

"And this one's for you." 

Your head jerks up as Tess says your name, smiling warmly and handing you back a small box. "Joel said it was so you could remember your time with us."

"Thank you." 

Your heart hammers and you hurriedly open it, unable to stop your hands from shaking. Tess and Sarah are busy chatting in the front seat, giving you a moment of privacy and you’re impossibly thankful for it. 

When you peer into the small box you feel your chest grow warm. Inside is a beautiful and delicate looking carved piece of wood. You recognize it as what Joel was working on last night. You gingerly take it from the box, holding it to the light. 

A snowflake. 

You look at the little carved snowflake. The same design as the one from your skirt when you baked together. The day Joel gave in and initiated. Your eyes pick up on a small piece of paper folded at the bottom of the box with Joel's messy scrawl. You open it covertly in case it's something inappropriate. 

A snowflake never falls in the wrong place. 

And his phone number at the bottom, written in small script. You feel your waterline spill over as you read the words once, twice. 

Tess puts the key in the ignition and a sudden clutch is at your heart. You swallow the lump in your throat. 

"Shit, I forgot my wallet inside," you say. "Gimme two minutes."

"No rush," Sarah says with a yawn. "Tess always makes us leave too early for the airport anyway."

You scramble out of the car, your footsteps a desperate drum on the pavement as you rush back inside the Miller home. You throw the front door closed before scrambling down the hallway to his room. 

"Joel!"

You whirl the door to his bedroom open and see him sitting on his bed much like the first time you two were alone. Only now he's curled in a seated position with his forearms on his knees and when he looks up at you in surprise his dark eyes are wet. 

"What're you doin' here?"

He moves off the bed as you hold up the small carving he made for you. He softly smiles. 

"You're one of a kind, Snowflake."

You let out a sob before you throw yourself into his waiting arms. Joel holds you tightly, chin on the top of your head, whispering soothing words. 

"I can't leave you," you tell him through hiccupping sobs, tears staining his shirt. "I-I'm in love with you, Joel."

Joel makes a soft sighing noise and it doesn't sound like irritation or malice. It sounds like pain. 

"I know it probably feels like that," Joel says, hands cupping your face so that you'll look at him. "But this ain't love, sweetheart."

"It is!" You insist. "I've never felt the way I do about you. I love you and you love me, don't you?"

"Honey," Joel says and it's in a voice so strained you have to look up at him. He's staring down at you, his dark eyes glassy. 

"This is just connection," he explains tenderly. "And you'll have others, I promise. So much stronger than this." 

And you know he's right. You've known it all along but nursed this fantasy of a life with him. A future. Connection. That feels right when he says it. It feels right to explain what's gone on here. But there's a part of you that can't let him go. Not just yet. 

"Will you come see me at college?"

Joel is thoughtful, brushing the hair from your wet eyes. 

"Not sure. Gotta think on that one."

You nod, sniffling. You want to say so much more but you hear Tess beep the car horn. 

"I better go," you say pocketing the small carving and giving him a sad look. "Thank you for everything."

You step back, your eyes full of longing as you stare at him. Joel brings a finger to your chin, tilting your face more fully up. His dark eyes scan yours for what seems like ages before dipping to your mouth. You swallow a surprised gasp when he finally, blessedly presses his lips to yours. 

It’s nothing like last night which was quick and needy. This is slow and unhurried, his hands going to your jaw and tilting so he can lick lightly into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and whimper for him and he kisses you soft and gentle. Tess beeps the car horn once more and you two reluctantly break apart.

"You're welcome here any time," he tells you, stroking your tearstained cheek with his knuckle. "I mean that. And if you ever need anything you just call me. You have my number now." 

His sincerity is so palpable you can't help but kiss the corner of his full mouth gently. His mouth chases yours, sweeping another full lipped kiss to yours. 

Your hand goes to his chest over his heart, needing one last touch as if proving to yourself that he was real. 

"Thanks, Mister Miller."

He smiles. "Call me Joel."

#joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #dad joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fanfic #cheating!Joel

[ghouljams]

Last night I had a dream that fae!Price’s darling was a witchy gal, her grandmother taught her about the fae when she was young. I’m talking warded up house, always carrying iron and salt, candles herbs and crystals the whole nine yards. They met in the flower shop after she got a weird vibe, looked through a hagstone and Saw him. He showed up in her garden and she gave him mead she made to make up for her rudeness. She will do small acts of kindness but specify that they are “freely given” to avoid tethering. I was reading your blog right before bed lol. I like the idea of debt holder Price and a (from a fae perspective) slippery darling that he just can’t catch unless she wants to be caught

*Holding the grimoire I wrote as a senior capstone in College* Oh you want witch shit? I can give you witch shit. Let's keep trying out Price's darlings, the only thing I require for her is that she have the most knowledge of the fae because she's dealing with the big kid one. (Here's where I mention that I also have a potential witch darling for Gaz so keep that in mind)

He's been hanging around your garden, just by your back gate, right where your grandmother planted rosemary so many years ago. You greet him every time you pass by, careful never to reach over the brick wall that separates you. He's friendly, but you're not so easily fooled.

"Good morning," you smile at him, watering the herbs on your side of the fence. He leans against the brick to watch you. Eyes heavy as they slide over you, tracing the sway of your skirt where it skims your thighs.

"How's my pretty witch doing today?" He asks voice thick and promising. He's just as careful to avoid your iron watering can as you are to keep it from splashing him. You find the residual warding properties tend to soak into the water. Your family has always maintained a strong threshold for the home.

"Better seeing you," you joke, returning the compliment as easily as can be. You never miss the heat in his eyes, the danger just below his friendly facade.

"I brought you something."

"That's very kind of you," you tell him, "I think the tomatoes are ripe, I'll send you off with some for the trouble."

"No trouble, I wanted to bring it."

"Oh but I couldn't accept a gift without repaying you, it would be rude of me."

"Repay me later," he growls, and you smile a little wider. You like this dance, you've never had a fae try so hard to get their hooks in you. You set down your watering can and lean against the brick across from him. Your weight resting on your elbows, the threshold humming between you.

"But I can repay you now."

"It's a gift."

"Gifts have strings."

"Then it isn't a gift," he says, mirroring your posture.

"Then what is it?" You ask, his eyes flick to your chest, appreciative, wanting. His confidence is charming, or it would be if you were the sort of person to take the fae at face value.

"A name," Your smile drops, your heart jumping up your throat. He must see the panic in your eyes because his smile widens. "Not to keep, just... to call me when we talk." Your pulse tries to slow from the impact of panic. He did that on purpose, you try not to look too rattled by this. You try to think of an appropriate repayment.

"I can't tell you mine."

"I know." He purrs, pleased with himself for catching you in your own defenses. You feel a chill graze your skin through the threshold, the edge of Winter. He knows exactly the corner he's backing you into. He gives you time to think through your options, to panic at the weight of his offer.

"I don't-"

"I know." He pushes, tapping against the solid line between you. You've never had the sight, but you can feel his magic collide with yours as he hits the threshold. You toy with the hagstone on your necklace, the worn stone warm from your skin under your fingers. "Witch," he warns.

"I'm still thinking."

"Think as long as you want," He leans closer, "but call me Price while you do."

Your heart stops, your thoughts grinding to a halt as well. Price. It fits him. You feel the silver thread searching for purchase in your soul, and break one of your long standing rules.

You lean over the threshold and kiss him. Because you know he wants to have some part of you, and you know he wants you on the wrong side of the fence. The thread breaks as his hand slides to cup your cheek, tipping your head as his lips slide against yours. It's your first one, and you think it's worth the price of his name.

His beard sort of tickles but his lips are soft and insistent, and you lean a little further over the wall to stay close. His hands are entreating, coaxing you further across the threshold. His teeth dig into your lip and you open for him, let him drag his tongue against yours as his fingers thread through your hair. You feel your feet leave the ground, the brick digging into your hands as you put your weight on them. The pain is enough to bring you back to your senses. You don't know what would happen if you let him take you.

Price sighs as you pull away and settle back on your side of the wall. He feels a thread hook in him. You've overpaid. He values your touch more than you apparently did, how fortunate for him. And unfortunate for you.

#fae!Price #a potential darling #this witch is more nice than the one Gaz is trying to deal with #gonna say shes a hedgewitch #very old school folk magic and family magic #john price x reader #john price mw2 #captain john price #john price x y/n #john price #fae au #Price visiting his darling on the edge of winter every day bringing her little things #and going home with a bundle of food and fresh produce #asked my friend who has daddy issues to help me with this #hope its good for yall

[willowser]

it's so funny to me to think about having to tell dabi that he's your boyfriend now LOL

like he's really not into it. thinks the label and everything is stupid, he's not gonna say it because it's childish. and he doesn't even—you've made out a few times when you were both wasted, but it's not like he likes you or anything.

but you're just happy as a clam, standing too close beside him outside in the cold, laughing at the frown on his face. "okay, so you're hooking up with other people then?"

the look he casts you is so deadpan, because he can't even believe you're asking him that. doesn't hardly have time to himself, and he only manages to see you twice a month; what would make you think he's even got half a chance to— "no." he says, flat. "i'm not."

dabi's expecting you to say, yeah, me either, to prove whatever little point your trying to make, something about being exclusive—but you just hum, eyes flitting elsewhere.

and then he gets mad. because this whole thing is fucking dumb and he's not interested in your little games, or whatever. you're not saying anything, which means you're hooking up with other people—and he doesn't care, not at all, but—with who? who are you finding the time to hook up with? you meeting them on stray rooftops after midnight, too, laughing at their jokes like they're just oh-so-fucking funny, same way you do to his? you trying to hold their pinky to yours all sly and shit, when you think they're not paying attention? and he only did that because—

"are you?" the minute the question comes out of his mouth, he knows he's fucked. because it sounds like an accusation. because you're grinning.

"nope," you nudge your elbow against his and ash from his cigarette falls, snow taken by the breeze. and then you sigh, all dramatic, and dare to lean your head on his shoulder. "i've only got room for one man in my life, baby."

it makes him huff, curling into himself when your laugh chimes again. "'m not your man," he grumbles—

but dabi knows he's fucked. because it makes his chest a little lighter. because it makes him grin, too.

#i will now be pushing the dabi the pure agenda #this man is an angsty emo ! he's not having sex ! #LMAOOOO #no but i love the idea that he comes off this way and then you try to get handsy and he's like HEY HEY LET'S UH CHILL OUT #pfffttt nerd #dabi drabble #touya drabble #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: dabi/touya #✿ theme: domestic dabi/touya

[passivenovember]

Billy knows he's pregnant because he has a double whopper with no cheese on the way home from Loch Nora.

Billy hates the Burger King. It tastes like cardboard and the cheese burns noxious holes in his stomach, probably, but things change when you're gonna be a mom.

A dad. Whatever.

Steve Harrington shoots his wad and, like magic, like Steve Harrington's spunk has turned everything inside him into stardust, Billy can't get enough of the shit. He'd buy cologne made of BK's burger fat, if he could, and spend all day sucking on his wrist like a dog.

So. Billy's pregnant. It's obvious. Among other things.

And no one ever said Steve Harrington was smart, not in any way that matters, and Billy can't learn his lesson. They fuck on Thursday night because apparently this is a middle-of-the-week kind of arrangement, now, and Harrington comes apart inside of Billy because you're on the pill, Malibu, it's okay.

Billy likes it. Lets him. Thinks, there's probably no harm in it now that he's no longer the Virgin Mary. It feels immaculate, anyhow, that this could happen.

Steve fucks into him sloppy, losing his rhythm until he spills, and tears swamp Billy's vision so he misses the whole fuckin' thing. The main show.

He wants to keep the baby. No one ever said Billy was smart, either.

But there are things in this life he'll keep to himself. He's allowed that. He shares so much with Max and Steve, and by association all the other fucking people that love Steve, and it gets old.

He can have this.

Billy thinks that this could be just for him.

"Fuck, Billy," Steve pulls out, but not before peppering Billy's face with soft butterfly kisses. His breath smells like them. Like blueberry seeds, underneath it all, "Goddamn, your pussy's magic."

Billy's hole runs sloppy. Too fucked out to hold anything in.

Billy almost laughs out loud, because. It's magic. It's a joke, right, his pussy swallowed and now there's--

"Love that thing you do with your hips. Love the sounds you make when my shaft rubs--"

"You're a fucking pervert."

"I was normal, before you let me hit," Steve trails damp, sticky fingers through Billy's chest hair. "You hungry?"

I'm pregnant. "No."

"Sure?" Steve rolls closer on the mattress, nosing Billy's damp, pillow-squashed curls out of the way, "You smell like you could eat a fucking village."

"I'm fine."

"Orphans and all, baby."

"So fucking weird."

Steve hums. Pulls on Billy's earring with his teeth and then licks a wet, fat stripe over his bonding patch. Teasing. "If you're hungry I could get us food."

"I'm fine."

"Really, I just need to put some shorts on and I'm outta here, fuckin'. Pedal to the metal--"

"Jesus Christ, I said I'm not hungry so fucking drop it, asshole," Billy shoves away, sitting on the edge of the mattress. He feels around on the carpet for his jeans, his t-shirt, his converse.

Steve runs out of him, gluing him to 500 count Egyptian Cotton. Pisses him off.

"Billy," Steve says.

Billy tugs his socks on. He was freezing, apparently. Never realized it. His teeth chatter so he stoops, reaching for the closest hoodie shaped thing in their heap of discarded clothes, and then.

"You don't have to go, baby," Steve pokes him between the shoulder blades, gentle as a falling leaf. "Please stay."

"You're pissing me off."

"What else is new."

"I'm gonna--"

Steve wraps around Billy like a blanket, cock soft and sticky against Billy's tailbone. His legs are lean and strong, all muscle and good intentions, just like the rest of him.

Billy hates it.

He melts back against Steve's chest, anyway, vision swamped again.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong, or do I gotta beg?"

"Little manners might be nice."

"Billy Hargrove. Please tell me what's got you smelling like a sugar factory caught fire." Steve pets through his hair. Knows how it turns Billy to putty. Has to. "Omega troubles?"

Billy bites down on the inside of his cheek. Tastes blood. "You wouldn't get it."

"I could try," Steve tells him. His lips are soft against he back of Billy's neck, at his ear lobe, on the tense knob of his shoulder. "Please. Tell me so I can fix it."

"You can't," Billy says, traitor voice cracking open, raw, "You can't fix it. It's mine."

My life. My baby.

"Okay," Steve says easily. Kind and good and sweeter than anything Billy could ever deserve, "Stay the night, so I can cook for you before you fall asleep, and again in the morning."

Billy swallows, throat clicking like a dead lighter. Can't breathe, can't--

"It's alright," Steve kisses his neck, "Everything will feel better in the morning."

"We never should've started this bullshit," Billy sits up, heart lurching at the soft, pained noise Steve lets out into the air between them. He can't handle this shit. He can't do this, he can't--

"Billy--

"I'm pregnant," Billy says to Steve's Duran-Duran poster. Can't believe how young he feels, in this moment. Can't begin to wrap his head around the fact that he's twenty years old, and he's in Hawkins, Indiana, and he's going to have a fucking baby with someone who's got such a shitty taste in music, and--

He wants it.

More than he's ever wanted anything. Billy opens his mouth to say it, to scream it at the popcorn stucco, watching like a trillion angel eyes overhead.

But Steve breathes, like an old car trying to start. "You're sure?" He asks.

Billy's shaking even though Steve is a warm, solid weight against his back, burning them up. "Yes."

"How?" Steve asks, full of wonder, and Billy has to get away.

The carpet is heaven under his feet. "I've been. Eating a lot of Burger King."

"Burger King."

"Yeah. Cravings for shit I never liked before. Double whoppers with no cheese," Billy wrings his hands, "And. I didn't have a heat this month, so Joyce took me to the clinic. They said I'm only a few weeks along, but everything is good with her."

Steve makes a wet, heavy sound.

"I dunno. It kinda. Feels like one," Billy rubs a palm over his belly, quick as lightning, "I think it's a girl."

"Billy, please look at me."

Billy does, horrified but swallowing it, one bitter mouthful at a time. He plants his feet and everything bubbles up inside him. This is his life, his body, his baby, and he's going to to this for himself. Steve doesn't have to worry or fork out any cash or put his life on hold just because he knocked up some desperate omega--

Steve's crying. "We're having a baby."

Billy didn't expect this. He falters, mouth working in shocked silence.

But then Steve moves.

He pulls Billy to him, chest heaving as he laughs, high and bright. "Holy, shit we're gonna be parents," Steve twirls them, hooping and hollering like they just won the NBA championship. "Goddamn, your pussy really is magic!"

Billy giggles, in spite of himself. All the other shit melts away, for now, shadows receding under the blinding light of Steve Harrington.

"I can't fucking believe this," Steve says, pulling back to hunt over Billy's face, full of wonder. "Do you think she's gonna have your eyes?"

"I. I don't--"

"I feel like in high school science class we learned something about the brown eyes gene kicking the blue eyes gene's ass? But I would fucking die if our baby comes out looking like you."

"You're not," Billy swallows, choking on tears. "You're not mad at me? Or disappointed?"

"Disappointed?" Steve repeats, his face falling. "Billy, are you serious? No. No, I've fucking. Ever since I met you I've been sitting in this room every night twirling my hair around one finger and kicking my feet because, I--"

Steve's thumb rubs soft, soothing circles against Billy's cheek.

"Billy, I love you," He says gently, "I love everything about you. You're smart and you're hilarious and you're so beautiful--"

"--Steve--"

"--You make my heart feel like it's gonna beat out of my chest. I can't believe you let a loser like me climb on top of you, much less--"

Billy kisses him, eating up Steve's next words.

They don't matter, when Steve leads them back to the mattress. He eats every soft, gooey whimper out of Billy's lungs, swallowing them down and tasting the damp running between Billy's legs.

Makes love to him, while they talk about the future.

Steve only makes one joke about his dick hurting the baby's head, and Billy thinks they should sign up for a class or two.

#harringrove #omegaverse #gave up near the end there #but i hope you enjoyed it #we love soft harringrove

[rodolfoparras]

So in SSKTJL, the suicide squad gets infected with Fear Gas because of Batman

For context, Fear Gas is a gas created by Scarecrow or Johnathan Crane, and when inhaled, you live through your worst fears until worn off.

And Digger's worst fear is everyone leaving him behind, being unwanted and forgotten. In the scene, George talks to himself, saying they've probably already left him. Calling himself a loser and and a coward and shit. He sees "NOT WANTED" posters of himself hung up around

(I can't do this anymore, bro)

What if Reader's worst fear was watching all of his friends/teammates die and losing them all🥰

Running around trying to listen to Harley's advice (because she knows Scarecrow and the toxin) but he just keeps hearing his friends scream for help and their bodies everywhere but he's literally unable to help them, because they're not fucking real but it's scary asf

And once it's all over, Reader is all over Digger the rest of the night. They're the closest, so it's already not that weird, but he's literally not giving Digger a MOMENT of peace. a hand on that man the entire time, following him everywhere, fucking sleeps on top of him to try and keep him safe

Mumbles to him all night about being scared of losing him and how much he cares about him and Digger's just "🧍‍♂️wut?" Because he genuinely believes that despite working with the team, he's very easily disposable and they could all replace him but don't because of Waller

Reader ramping up his affection for Digger after that because he's not gonna let him think that shit??

Idk where I'm going with this but I love him so much. Just wanna play with his hair and kiss his face 😞

-🐧

Cw: tooth rotting fluff, x male reader

Okay but thinking about you being unable to calm down even though the gas has long stopped having effect, even though you’re back in your current reality with all your friends where they’re all very much alive and doing well but no matter what they say or do you just can’t calm down

It’s like you’re still stuck in that place, watching all your friends die in front of you without being able to do anything, and Digger being Digger starts joking around, telling the rest of the team how they should just knock you out to make sure you get to sleep through the night.

But his words turn into squeaks as you pull him into a bruising grip, his head shoved into your chest, and your arms locked in an iron grip around his waist.

Unintelligible sounds escape his lips as he tries to push you away from him but you don’t budge an inch, if anything you hold him tighter, nuzzling your face into his honey blonde locks and inhaling his scent, and for once you actually seem to relax.

“Uh hello big guy? cant breathe here,” the sound of Digger’s strained voice sends the whole squad into fits of laughter, with them even making comments about how you’re his responsibility for the night before splitting up to get some rest.

“Alright alright that’s enough” digger says as he finally breaks out of your embrace “jeez I know I’m a lovable guy but even that was a bit too much eh?” Digger says, clearly being sarcastic as he proceeds to prepare his make shift bed.

He doesn’t even get to lay down properly before you’re on top of him, your body weight pinning him in place an arm once again locked around his waist.

“God dammit,” Digger grunts out as his back meets the harsh impact of the ground. “What’s with you tonight eh? Gas scared you that bad? What did you even see?”

And maybe it’s the hint of concern in his voice or it’s the exhaustion from todays events, but you decide to tell you him what you saw earlier today.

Surprisingly enough, Digger listens intently to every word you have to say, at some point you think he’s fallen asleep or spaced out because it’s so unusual for him to not interrupt but when you look up, you see the very much focused look on his face as he continues to listen to you.

Once you’re done speaking you peer up at him - only to be met with the sight of his furrowed brows as he worries his bottom lip.

This time it’s your turn to ask what’s on his mind, digger doesn’t waste a second before he starts to explain, telling you how he can understand why you’d be worried about losing king shark- he was a great asset to the team - or Harley - she was a smart cookie or dead shot - look at his name! who wouldn’t want a guy like that on his team ? but he can’t understand why you’d be worried about losing him.

He doesn’t say it in a self deprecating way, but rather as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, as if he’s speaking of the way the sun is bound to rise tomorrow and maybe that hurts more than if he were to say it in a self deprecating tone.

You’re swift to rise up, knocking the air out of his lungs as you go on a tangent about how of course he’s an important part of the team, promptly mentioning the many times he’s saved your ass or saved another member of the team, the many times he’d been the reason as to why they succeeded in whatever mission you were doing.

By the time you’re done you’re all out of breath, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace hands still hanging in the air and staring wide eyed at the Aussie man.

“Alright alright big guy I get it,” he says, now sporting a blush on his face and avoiding your gaze while bashfully rubbing at the back of his neck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a crush on the ol’ captain” Digger say with somewhat of a forced chuckle , and peers up at you beneath soft blonde lashes.

“Maybe I do,” you shrug.

“Wha-“

“Sleep digger, we have a long day tomorrow no?” You say, suddenly laying down again and pulling him into your arms before he can protest. You can hear him cursing under his breath but he doesn’t do anything to try and get out of your embrace. “Goodnight captain” you say with a smile on your face.

“Goodnight” he grumbles back as he tightens his hold on your waist.

#oh I loved writing this !! #captain boomerang #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomerang x male reader #digger harkness #digger harkness x male reader #digger harkness x reader #x male reader #male reader

[luminoustarlight]

OH MY GOSH I SAW UR POST ABOUT WANTING ANI FLUFF REQUESTS so i’m gonna just spit shit out into your inbox okay anyways

playing with his hair and he’s like all in love and he’s like laying on you right and then he like flips his body over and starts kissing you and saying how much he loves you and shit OHBMYFUCKINGGOD

thats like so basic but

Sweet Everythings | Anakin Skywalker (x gn!reader)

Admissions, cuddles, and kisses.

On the rare occasion that Anakin has a day off, he is absolutely spending it with you. He sneaks over to your apartment early, as quietly as he can manage but his arrivals always stir you out of your sleep.

When you groggily call out to him with tired eyes, his reply is always the same. "It's just me, angel. Go back to sleep." Anakin slips himself beneath your sheets, sidling up to you on the warm side of the bed. He drops a soft kiss to your shoulder while wrapping his arms around you and bringing your back to his firm chest. "My love," he whispers.

"Mmm," is all your foggy mind can conjure.

"You are my everything," Anakin says. "Every day I don't see you, I am yearning for you. I think about you on the battlefields, the promise of your love is what gets me through even the toughest of missions. I would leave it all for you, my angel. I think about it often..." Anakin's voice trails off.

You let him lull you back to sleep with sweet nothings. Or rather, sweet everythings. When he expresses how much he loves you, how much you mean to him, it is not nothing.

"I would leave the Order if you asked me to," is the last thing you remember Anakin saying before fully falling asleep.

You would never ask him to do such a thing— leave the Order. You know he is conflicted about many aspects of the War, the Jedi Way, the Prophesy, the attachment to you he's not supposed to have. But Anakin is a good Jedi. He is a good Master to Ahsoka and he is a good commander to the 501st. You would never ask him to leave the Order for you and you hate that he thinks you want him to.

Or perhaps it is what he really wants... and he needs you to be the reason for him to finally walk away.

When you awake up, Anakin's legs are tangled with yours. His head is on your chest, rising and falling as you breathe. You comb your fingers through his bed-head, detangling the knots in his dirty blonde waves. A rather firm pull awakes him up.

"Ow," he mumbles.

You grin. "Sorry, Ani."

"S'okay," he sighs. He lays his arm over your tummy while peppering kisses above the seam of your bed shirt. Warm lips against warm skin, your calming scent of Lavandula infiltrating his senses. "I love you, anyway." Anakin traces his lips over your clavicle and the early intimacy makes your whole nervous system send shocks to your nerve endings. Every little touch is heightened. You feel every kiss deep in your bones, his hands feel impossibly large on your hips as he crawls on top of you.

Anakin lays his full weight on you which makes you wheeze out a puff of air. "You're crushing me!"

"Nuh uh," Anakin replies. "If I was crushing you, you wouldn't be able to talk."

You roll your eyes, playfully hitting his shoulder. "Get off of me, you oaf!"

That gets him sitting up. Anakin's pretty face is contorted into a not so pretty face as he exclaims, "Oaf?!"

"I said what I said."

"Take it back."

"No," you jut your chin up in protest.

Anakin frowns. "Take it back or no kisses."

Oh, now that is something you simply cannot gamble. To not kiss Anakin is like Tatooine with only one sun— unimaginable. It's only a joke, but a knot of sadness forms in your throat. There are many rotations in which you can't kiss Anakin. Weeks upon weeks when he is away on a mission and you have little communication with him.

Those bouts are the toughest— when you are missing Anakin with your entire being and you can't be consoled by even your closest friend because not even she knows of your relationship.

Anakin can sense the uneasiness in you. Plus, the way your face falls is a clear indication that you are upset. "Hey," Anakin shifts off of you and props himself on his elbow. He runs the back of his fingers over your cheek as he wonders what he said wrong. "You know I was only joking, right?"

"I know," you sniffle. "It's dumb."

"It's not dumb, my love. What is bothering you?"

"Oh, Ani," you tuck his hair behind his ear with a smile. "You know I would never ask you to leave the Order for me."

The crease between Anakin's eyebrows deepens. "What are you..."

"It's hard to be away from you sometimes," you bite the inside of your cheek. Anakin absently draws on your skin with his mechanical limb. "Okay, all of the time. It's hard to be away from you every time we are apart. Encrypted files are never enough. Our stolen moments in the Temple are never enough."

Where you're going with this starts to terrify Anakin. Anxiety creeps into his bloodstream, heart rate ticking up as he fears he's about to lose the greatest, most wonderful thing in his life.

"But this," you say, grabbing Anakin's hands. "Ani... we are enough. It is the most sweetest thing to be loved by you, Anakin Skywalker. And I would go through hell or high water to keep you in my life. But I will never take you away from the Order if that is not what you truly want."

"I- I didn't realize you were awake when I said that. It's just something I have been meditating over. Do you know how happy you make me? I didn't know love until I met you." Anakin has somehow maneuvered himself on top of you once again. His nose brushes yours as your breath becomes one in the space between you. "If I were to leave the Order, it would be so that I could love you freely. Because you, my love, are all I ever want."

Anakin lowers his lips over yours, nothing over the top or too intense. It's just pure love. Poetry in motion as your lips move against each other. Anakin wraps his arms around your back and rolls you over so you're sitting on top of him. You cup his cheeks to press yourself even closer to him. There is nowhere else either of you would rather be.

anakin masterlist

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x gn!reader #mae's mail 💌

[lovelywetdreamer]

Prompt 3: Dick teaching you to suck dick

"Can you pretty please teach me how to suck dick, Dicky?"

"Say what again?"

"You teach me your beautiful girlfriend to suck your dick. Please bae?"

In the first place in his life, Dick is out of words. His brain must be having a kick at his expense. That have to be it. You are like the most innocent person he knows. You never curse. For example, you called him a Moby Dick when he is acting like a dick sometime.

Now that he thinks about it, you stuttered everytime you try to make a dirty joke. With all the information he had collected about you, you can't blame your boyfriend for being shock from your lewd request. Dick's rub your soft, squishy cheek before pinching it. "Are you really my Y/N?"

"Don't be silly, of course it's me.", you put your hand on his chest and made him sit in a chair, "I just want to be a good girl that please her man." Your soul left your body. You can't believe you said that with a straight face; you couldn't say that to youself in the mirror without blushing.

"So are you going to teach me or not?", as you say while your knees are hitting the floor, your brown eyes are looking up into his piercing blue eyes. Now the second time in Dick's life, his mouth cannot search for words. His pant was becoming tight of the sight of his beautiful girlfriend on her knees for him. Dick's dick twitching and begging to be touch.

"Shit baby! You're going to melt my brain you that dontcha? Of course, I'll teach you babygirl, but I need to make sure you are okay with this. Do this for yourself not for me, okay?"

"I want to do this."

"I'm all yours then princess.", he says with a smirk as he unzip his pant and rub his thumb along your soft juicy, plumpy lips. "Before we start tho, can you bring me the chocolate syrup from the fridge?"

"Okay, but why?"

"Don't question your teacher."

When you came back retrieving the chocolate syrup from the fridge, Dick was spread eagle in the chair. He is a robin but how he looking at you, you would had thought he was wolf starring at his prey. You were on your knees before your brain could processed the action. "Hand me the chocolate syrup."

The moment you hand him the chocolate syrup he poured some already on his leaking dick. "I know you hate sour and bitter thing in your mouth."

You have the most sweetest boyfriend in the world, literally. He rubs his hand through your braids, "Please goes at your own pace and don't tries to force the whole thing down your throat. I know how greedy you can get."

"I'm not that greedy now", you say with a toothy grin. You wouldn't scared as you were nervous. Dick is suprisely packing. You are wondering now how he could hide this meaty six inch monster in that tight leather costume. You place a kiss on his red swollen, leaking precum tip. Experimental licks up and down on his length. You read in a book to make sure get a man's dick wet before putting it in your mouth.

Withdrawaling your tongue from his dick, whimpers escape Dick's mouth. You open your mouth wide enough to slowly put his tip inside your warm wet mouth. You don't want your teeth to gaze him. Inch by inch enter your mouth at the best of your ability. Dick has to keep running his hand through his hair. That's the only thing keeping him under control from thrusting upward into your hot little mouth.

"Try to bob your head up and down like bobbing for apples."

His hand were now on the back your head as you bob up and down on his length. "You're such a good girl for me." News to you his praise making you form a wet spot in your panties. You tried to shove his member down your throat, to no one suprise your gag reflex turn against you. Dick quickly remove himself from your mouth. "Are you okay?!", Dick say as he is rubbing your back.

"I gotten too cocky. Sorry, I'm good. Please let me continue."

"Okay, but remember you are a beginner."

You guys continue where you left at. Dick's moans and groans fill the room when you moved a little faster around him. You even moan around his member; Dick accidentally pulls your hair and say," You're gonna be a good whore for me right?

Sadly within ten minutes, Dick was tapping on your shoulder, "I'm gonna cum babygirl. You should probably get off my junk right now baby." He wanted to last longer for you. Little dick follow his own rules not big Dick's rule. You kept going on his dick waiting hungrily for his cum. Your mouth was full of his chocolate flavor cum. The chocolate syrup couldn't hide the true bitter flavor of his cum. At least he tried to hide the flavor for you.

He gave the biggest and wettest kiss on your lip.

#DC #dick grayson #batman #robin #dick grayson x female reader #nightwing #night wing x female reader #dick grayson x black reader #night wing black female reader #dick grayson smut #DC smut #night wing smut #dick grayson x inexperience reader

[webslingingslasher]

i was thinking about how boyfriend!frat peter would swing his way back to trouble and like thinking if she needs something or what she was doing all the time he was on patrol like

"has she seen the episode we didn't get to finish?"

"nah, she wouldn't... right?"

"i hope she forgot bout it"

"i think she ran out of toilet paper"

"gonna be so mad if she saw that episode without me"

kinda messy in a peter way but he likes to find himself thinking about her after being spiderman because sets him down to earth again <3

the second peter had his hand on your window, your laptop slammed shut. you were sitting a little too straight up, your hands in plain sight.

'were you watching porn?' you sputter, the idea making your chest feel warm. 'no! i was just looking at stuff.' peter's eyebrow quirks, 'porn stuff?'

'no!' your eyes flash around the room, it's a guilty look. 'oh, c'mon, it can't be that bad. what kind of stuff are you into?' peter swears he's joking, but when he playfully reaches for your computer you flatten yourself on top of it.

'holy shit, it really is porn.'

'it's not porn! it's... it's... for you. yeah, it's for you and it's a surprise!' your boyfriend blinks, 'you have to believe the lie to sell it, trouble.'

you couldn't be caught, peter would never forgive you.

'you got me at a bad time, you were supposed to call me on your way over.'

'did you miss me that bad? you had to pregame my arrival?' you huff, sitting up and fixing your hair, you don't realize how close your boyfriend got.

'i wasn't doing that!'

'you were about to.'

'no!'

peter's having way too much fun, 'then what were you doing?'

'i already told you, nothing!'

peter's quick, he grabs your laptop but not before you catch the other side. a gentle game of tug and war. 'i'm gonna look.' you tug, it's useless, peter could rip it from your grasp in a second.

'no! not allowed!'

'then tell me what you're hiding.'

'no!' you screech louder when he takes total ownership of the machine. guilt washes over you, you've been caught red handed. the only solution was looking at your knees.

your boyfriend gasps in horror at the screen, it sounds like how you knew he'd feel about it.

'i'm sorry, peter. you were never supposed to find out.'

'how could you do this to me? to us?'

you can't even make eye contact. 'i know, i'm sorry.'

it's like it chokes him to say, 'how long has this been going on?' you look up at him, if you plead he may accept your apology.

'not long, i promise! it was just today.... and maybe last week. but i swear i'll never do it again.'

'this hurts, trouble. this really hurts me.'

sure, maybe you did betray his trust a little. but he's the one that got you hooked in the first place, he can't push all the blame on you.

'but you've already seen it! and i really wanted to see the next episode and you weren't here and i figured it would be okay... but that was four episodes ago.'

'fine. but you need to keep me updated, because the only reason i'm rewatching it is so i can experience it with you.'

a subtle confession, something you weren't supposed to take to heart, but you did. the whole reason peter got you watching was so he could relive all his favorite parts, but with you.

you pout, peter pushes your computer back in your hands and points at your bottom lip. 'no. you dug your grave, you don't get to be sad that i'm sad.'

'but i'm really sorry.'

'sorry you got caught.'

'no! i'll never watch it without you, i promise.' except you were in the middle of a very juicy scene and you're itching to press play. peter can read you like a book.

'you wanna do it right now, don't you?'

'no.' ..... 'yes.' ..... 'but i won't.'

'god gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.'

peter doesn't understand the restraint you're showing. 'you stink, go take a shower.'

'promise you won't keep watching?'

it's hard, but you can do it for him.

'promise.' 

#frat!peter drabbles

[gallusrostromegalus]

oh my god I am frothing at the mouth PLEASE tell us about how Unohana is SO WEIRD ACTUALLY

(her reveal is my favorite thing in the whole series and I was obsessed with Bleach for a good long time)

I love Unohana. She's magnificently insane and deliciously fun to write so far.

My take on AEIWAM Unohana is that fundamentally, she just wants to be happy.

Oh, that doesn't sound too nuts. I hear you say.

Yeah, but I also headcanon that she has ADHD. We joke a lot about it on this site, but if you have the good fortune to have functioning dopamine factories, allow me to explain the worst part of it, for me.

There's no passive happiness.

Most people, as I understand it, if left to their own devices without undue stressors like capitalism or any particular stimulation, tend to be able to feel pretty okay most of the time. Which fascinates me because if I am left alone without undue stressors but no stimulation, my malfunctioning dopamine factories will shut down and I will rapidly develop a terrible black depression and paranoia that life is cruel and I will never experience happiness again and also my appetite vanishes and sleep cycle collapses and I will end up mentally and physically distraught, sometimes in less than an hour.

So I've always got to be doing something, or The Horrors get me.

So imagine Unohana, and with a brain that wants to die if she gets bored... living in fantasy magical ancient japan. Not much to do, out in the early days of the soul society, besides being attatcked by monsters, or participating in warfare, or starving to death. the first two, at least, get the blood pumping, but the first is difficult to come by regularly, so as a young woman, the most interesting thing that happens to her on the regular is Mortal Combat.

And how exciting it is! Adrenaline! Dopamine! And on the rare occasions she meets a fellow combat enthusiast, she also gets one of the best things about ADHD- Recognition Responsive Euphoria. You know that great feeling you get at Con or meeting another person with your special interest and you guys just VIBE and it feels like you've been best friends for life in less than five minutes? Yeah, apparently Non-ADHD people don't get that.

So naturally, she develops her skill in combat, not in pursuit of Honor or The Art or something nebulous like, that, but in the simple Pursuit of Happiness. She gets very good at it, and a lot of people die.

But she starts getting... too good at it. The fights don't last, there's nobody willing- let alone able, to meet her on her level and the previous joy she felt fades and fades until she is once again left in the darkness.

Then, a Miracle happens! Some punk stabs her in the lung :)

Man, what an evening for her. Kills a hundred men with barely a stroke and there's no more joy in the world for her when suddenly some barely-legal scarecrow looking bastard with a raggedy sword he pulled out of someone else's corpse appears at the top of the pile of bodies and then goes Ape. Fucking. Shit. on her.

It's the most fun she's had in ages! He's strong and fast and his moves are inefficient but delightfully unpredictable and by the GODS the STAMINA! Alright, she might be 1,000 years his senior but in the soul society age really is just a number and she can't help but be charmed.

So she flirts back by nearly cutting his face off. This DELIGHTS him!

And there it is again, that sudden feeling of intimacy between like-minded individuals, only these two ships aren't passing in the night, there' here to make Titanic 2: Electric Boogaloo. They make eye contact, and know-they're just like me.

True Love is a wonderful thing.

It's also a great opportunity for a surprise thrust and she only sort of manages to block it, and despite the feeling of blood pooling in her lung, she returns the blow full across his chest.

She staggers back, coughing.

He, miraculously, sits up, coughing. He won't die if he can crawl off somewhere to lick his wounds, but he can't continue the fight either.

She stands up, teeth gritted through the pain, and sheathes Minazuki. "What's your name?" She asks. "So I may find you to fight again."

"Don't have one." he wheezes. "But I'll never forget yours."

She's had men spit that as a threat to her before. It sounds very different as a declaration of love.

"Yachiru." she says, trying to not cough up blood. "Unohana Yachiru."

*

A Year later, there's a problem.

Soul Society has a bit of a problem with lungs. They can make entire fake bodies for shinigami to travel the living world, but individual organs, especially lungs... never seem to transplant well. Perhaps it's the fact they're already dead.

Her left lung is "healed" in the sense that it no longer has extraneous holes in it, but... Godsdammit, she still has all the power but none of the stamina. Barely 10 minutes into a fight and she's wheezing worse than The Old Man. 20 minutes and her hands are starting to shake and she's seeing spots in her eyes because she can't breathe well enough to keep the oxygen in her veins. Her fights usually last seconds so functionally she's still one of the most powerful people in the afterlife but it's a far cry from where she was before.

She can no longer be the 11th division's Kenpachi. Hell, she can no longer be the woman she was before.

"Unless you figure out some new medical miracles, this is as healed as it's going to get." Explains the chief medical officer after yet another frustrating checkup.

"...If that's what it takes." She decides.

The next morning she re-enrolls in the Shinigami Academy, under the name Unohana Retsu. The sole change she makes to her appearence is to braid her hair down the front of her chest because people WILL ask about the scar, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's letting down that warrior with no name.

Either she needs to learn how to get back to his level, or find a new rival and learn to heal them to actually last the 20 minutes she has, or she'll die.

She studies.

To her vast surprise, bodies are actually fascinating. She'd previously seen that there were lots of interesting organs inside people but now learning what they are and how they work and the fact that the human body is already astonishingly death-resistant compared to most animals AND a carefully balanced meat sculpture minutes away from catastrophic failure at all times delights. She learns about the extreme ways humans can survive and the bizarrely mundane ways they can die, and she starts to form an idea- not an image, not a philosophy per se- but a working theory of how to keep someone alive and moving for as long and far as they will go, and what they need to stay upright.

This idea shines so brightly that it can keep that terrible darkness away.

The century practically flies by, and one night she stays up manually pumping the mechanism on a device used to keep the also-failing lungs of a young boy going after the power goes out. He's been blessed by A God that he's lived as long as he has, but even Gods can fuck up sometimes and she effectively has to breathe for him for twelve hours until the God gets its shit back together and he can breathe under his own power again.

"Hell of a fight you put in, keeping him alive." says one of her colleagues, collapsing beside her out in the 4th division medical garden where all the doctors go to smoke.

Retsu slowly exhales the smoke, fatigued but still coming down from the high of success. She cocks her head. Her body aches and her mind races and her heart thrills, just like- "I guess it was. " she realizes. "Interesting fight, going 12 hours in the ring with a dying child and winning because he walked away at the end." She laughs, and hands him the cigarette to share.

"You weirdo." he colleague laughs. He's far too young to remember when she was Yachiru. Most of them are these days, and it's a weird sort of peaceful anonymity and personal joke. "You weren't fighting the kid. If we were actually allowed to fight patients, I'd've stabbed the Kuchki hypochondriac decades ago." he grumbles, taking his own drag.

She snorts. "Who was I fighting then?"

"Death?" smoke billows out as he laughs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She freezes. Oh. Oh. That's why she likes this so much. She's gone from fighting mere men to the one opponent she knows she can win battles with, but never the war, and who will defeat her personally someday.

"Are. Are you crying?" he asks, a little worried.

"I- yes." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "I just fell in love all over again."

"Ouch." he nods sympathetically, offering her the cigarette back. "Who with?"

"Death's own Angel, apparently." She giggles, feeling positively prepubescent with this crush.

And thus she goes on, for centuries, learning everything there is to know about bodies and minds and how the two keep each other going and the ways she can help. She gets very good at it, and a many more people do not die.

But there is a special, secret place in her heart for that nameless warrior that defeated her in battle, and made her stronger than every before.

*

Nearly 1,000 years after she stopped being Kenpachi, she is supervising the annual "see if you can kill the captain" tournament. Her colleague Kaname is there, a walking anxiety disorder with undoubtedly real but strangely hard to diagnose phantom pains, but he's still easily in her top 10 coworkers of all time because he made her a new medical record filing system so functional they were actually able to recataloge three millennia of medical records into a usable format in under a decade. He can come twitching into her office any time he likes, especially if it gets her that mass vaccination process for the Rukongai he's been biting The Old Man's heels for.

Then

as suddenly as he had appeared the first time,

He's back.

He's older now and larger, having matured into a spectacular bastard, but there's no mistaking that cutting edge on his reiatsu (which, oh, that has gotten much, much stronger since last time) or that scar running down his face as he turns from where he had just cleft the previous Kenpachi in twain, and stares out into the crowd in the shower of blood, challenging anyone to do something about it. Hell, even when Yamamoto appears to congratulate him on his promotion, Death's own angel's first reaction is to turn to fight the old man without hesitation.

He then promptly picks three different fights with four captains in under five minutes, tells Yamamoto to shove the job up his ass, imply he's had a WILD collection of vocations in the last millennium and furthermore, he has to get home to his daughter.

...Named Yachiru.

Hilariously, Unohana is only having the second weirdest time about this here, because Kaname and Kenpachi are, somehow, even weirder than she is.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Everyone in this fic is a freak and I'm having a great time