#and then sit down. put the peas on his black eye. AND THEN say the line

[technicoloranimalviolence]

"nutboy" i'm sure you genuinely like keeping ppl safe. but don't u hate it when you get hurt?

[toxicanonymity]

Bodies.

7.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader

reader has no physical description, pics are for mood

raider master | playlists: raider, sweet pea (smut) SUMMARY: Uninvited guests make a nice evening devolve into disaster, but when they're gone, Joel takes a big step 💋 A/N: follows Hunger. Ty to this ask about flirting; arm anon; @gracieispunk for the B/W pic; @xdaddysprincessxx, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, and others who've discussed his name, @javier-penas-wifexx420 for asks, @milla-frenchy for listening, everyone for your patience and support. @toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs. WARNINGS: I8+ canon typical violence, tension, possessive/aggressive reader, angst, self-harm scare, references to skin carving scars, hurt/comfort, Joel is a little grumpy, exhibitionism, grinding, dacryphilia, leather choker, bj with ball sucking, unsafe P in V, creampie, obsessive unhealthy toxic dynamic, Joel can hold reader, reader can hang onto Joel.

Raider POV of smut.

The dog has stuck around for more than 24 hours now. He's a good dog. He’s working on a duck foot while you, Joel, and Carter eat by the fire. The evening air is cool but mild. The sky is clear. 

Joel and his men spent most of the day working on the van and looking for parts.  The dog sat with you while you read a book. You made a wildflower crown and put it around the dog’s neck. When one of the men walked in your direction on his way to the woods, the dog jumped in front of you and growled. Joel looked impressed. 

-

Now the fire is keeping you toasty as the sky fades from blue to black. 

“Tommy!” you call out to the dog to see if he reacts. 

Carter chokes on his food, but quickly recovers. His eyes are wide.

“What’d you say?” Joel asks, ominously quiet. When you don’t respond, he reaches over to gently turn your head toward him.  The look on his face makes your stomach turn. 

“I thought you’d like that one since it’s a type of gun,” you explain.

“No.” He shakes his head, “I don't like it.” He lets go of your face. “Namin’ the goddamn dog,” he grumbles under his breath. He puts down his plate and stands up.

You’re afraid to ask, but when Joel silently walks off toward the woods, you look at Carter. He asks, “He tell ya anything about his family? His brother?”

Your face is hot and your tummy feels dizzy. “He said he didn’t have any family.” 

Carter raises his eyebrows, then he's quiet for a moment and stares at the ground.  His face becomes studious. 

“What,” you ask. 

“Ain't my place,” Carter looks down apologetically.  

A few seconds later, watching your face, Carter adds the obvious: “I wouldn't go there.”

"Yeah," you whisper.  Anything about his family. The question weighs on you. You really don't know Joel, do you? 

Carter changes the subject. “He’ll come around on the dog.”

You perk up. “You think?” 

Carter nods, then adds, “Sorry ‘bout Daisy,” squinting solemnly. 

“Thanks,” you nod, then can’t resist asking, “Joel wasn’t. . .married, was he?”

Carter shakes his head and doesn’t elaborate. At least there’s that. But still. His family. 

You're unsettled, and you try to distract yourself with other dog names, mentally going through a list. Bullet. Clover. Duck. Joel doesn’t have to know he has a name. 

Apparently, Carter is thinking about the same thing. He tries to cheer you up. “Gun names, huh? Pistol, Rifle--”

“--Rifle??” You crack a smile. 

“Hey, there's no bad ideas,” Carter laughs, and you giggle. 

“What about Bullet–”

“--Shh,” Carter nods toward the tree line. Joel is on his way back. 

As you finish eating, Carter tries to make small talk with Joel to break the tension. Joel doesn't say much. You ask Carter how he makes his jerky, and he walks you through it. It doesn't sound hard. You could probably do it yourself. 

—--Carter—--

The three of you are sitting outside by the fire after dinner. You’re on Joel’s knee, and Joel slides his hand up your dress a little bit. Carter averts his eyes and watches the dog work on his duck foot, making happy little growls and wagging his tail. Hard to say whether you and Joel are about to go inside and fuck, or if Joel’s just copping a feel like he does twenty times a day. 

You have Joel wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never been like this before. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never made a girl his in the years Carter’s known him. Joel’s always been a man of focus. He’s always been a tough guy. He’s always had a temper, but at this point, he’d tear a man to shreds just for looking at you wrong. It’s scary, and it’s a lot of mess to clean up. Carter’s seen Joel do some crazy shit, but never as crazy as turning one of his own men into a scarecrow for an off-hand comment. Carter knows Joel better than anyone, and it’s clear to him that Joel is crazy about you.

The dog drops the duck foot, growls and barks, then takes off and runs toward the back of the trailer. You get off Joel’s knee to go after the dog, and Joel’s arm around your middle stops you. As Carter stands up and puts on his rifle, a high-pitched shriek comes from behind the trailer. Joel grabs his rifle off the log, and Carter says, “it’s cool,” holding his hand out. He won’t hesitate to yell if he needs Joel. “Go inside, sweet pea,” Joel tells you. You take your time going. 

Carter goes around the back of the trailer and trains his rifle on two figures cresting the hill. The dog has stopped short of them and is keeping his distance, but he’s still barking and looks ready to pounce, like he’s holding himself back. 

“DON’T MOVE,” Carter booms, then keeps his rifle fixed on the pair and slowly approaches them. When Carter reaches the dog, the dog’s barking fades into a low growl. 

They drop their backpacks and put their hands up. 

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Carter asks. 

The woman clears her throat and follows it with a demure smile.  “Went huntin’, came back ’n our house was taken.” 

Carter nods and looks back and forth between the two of them. They’re both decent looking. Some resemblance, maybe siblings. 

“What do y’all want,” Carter asks, then spits over his shoulder. 

“Nothin’,” the man claims. “Just cuttin’ through on our way to the road.” His eyes pan down Carter’s shoulders and arms. Carter squares his shoulders and adjusts his grip on the gun. 

Carter nods hesitantly. “Can ya hang tight for me? Don’t want ya walkin’ into gunfire.” 

They nod in agreement with a hint of fear. They shouldn’t be trouble. They aren’t carrying much. 

Carter walks backwards for a few slow steps, then nods and turns around toward the trailer. Carter sees you spying in the kitchen window and gives you a reassuring nod as he goes around the trailer to talk to Joel. 

-

"They're alright, I think," Carter tells Joel. 

"What do they want," Joel grumbles.

"Nothin'. . . Cuttin' through on their way to the road."

Joel nods. 

“Lost their house, didn’t say who took it.” 

Joel’s brow furrows and he nods. “Armed?” 

“Not heavily,” Carter answers. 

“Bring’em around. Let’s find out who took their house.”

“You got it,” Carter says. 

—---- 🌸you 🌸 —---

You move to the window facing the yard and the fire pit with logs around it. As they walk around the trailer, you overhear that they’ve been traveling most of the day.  When they stop by the fire, you wait a few minutes, thinking they’ll leave. Then they take a seat, and the woman sits on the log next to Joel’s, on the end of the log closest to him. Your chest tightens. When she smiles at him, you scoff out loud to yourself. You start to go out the front door, then stop and go to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and open the flannel. You run your finger over the faint, healed letters on your skin, and you leave your chest exposed. You adjust your thigh holster, then go outside. 

When the door opens, Carter looks over his shoulder and announces, “There she is.”

Joel introduces you. “This is, uh. . .” 

“Jill,” she pipes in. 

“Ron,” the man nods at you. 

A couple. They must be a couple. They look a little alike, but not enough to be siblings. Joel leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped, connecting with your eyes for a moment, sharing something near a smile before his eyes fade back to serious. 

Joel doesn’t make room for you in his lap, but he doesn’t tell you to go back inside either. He looks alert and on guard. There are four logs and five of you. You sit on Joel’s log and feel satisfied when he doesn’t scoot toward Jill to make more room. He doesn’t mind you being right up against him. Carter’s on the log to your left. Jill talks about their house and what was going on when they got back from their hunting trip. Ron is quieter. He glances at Carter a few times. Jill keeps looking at Joel. She talks too much.

Jill says they saw Infected behind the trailer park. Joel and Carter look at each other. Your stomach twists, but you study her face, and you don’t trust her. Attention. She wants attention. She wants Joel’s attention. Joel is better than Ron – bigger, stronger, better looking. There were no Infected. She’s making it up for attention. 

Everyone is quiet for what feels like a full minute. You look her dead in the eye and break the silence with a soft, matter-of-fact, “No you didn’t.”  Joel gives you a cautionary look, and you add, “We would’ve seen'em. We were there yesterday.” 

Jill raises her eyebrows, bemused.  “Just one,” she admits with a little smile. “My brother took care of it.” She nods to Ron, and the fact that they’re siblings makes you hate her.  

“Where,” Joel asks flatly. You wish he wouldn’t speak to her at all. 

“Woods behind the junkyard,” she answers. “Thought ya’d wanna know,” she shrugs. It’s quiet again. Nothing but the fire crackling and the dog growling happily. 

“Thanks,” Carter mumbles. 

Jill’s gaze lingers on Joel. She seems pleased with herself. Joel looks away, sits back, and crosses his arms. Now she’s checking out his arms as they bulge out with his hands under them. Your heart races. Anger simmers under your ribs. 

"Bet ya could handle anything that comes over that hill," she purrs at Joel. Your nostrils flare. Your eyes are glued to her. You don’t blink. She looks at Joel’s pants and wets her lips. Your heart skips a beat. It feels like a personal attack. You pop up from the log. 

Joel makes room in his lap and looks at you as he replies, "Carter here could handle'em, too,” with a nod to his left. 

Joel must have expected you to sit on his knee like you were before they showed up.  He clears his throat as it becomes clear you’re going to fully straddle him. His nose twitches and his eyes sparkle. He puts his arms around you loosely. His hands rest on your back to help you balance. You scoot closer and he helps you settle in so your crotch rests on his. Your head is in the crook of his neck, facing toward Jill to keep an eye on her. It doesn’t take long for a familiar bulge to twitch under you.  

Your arms are around Joel. Your hand runs over the handgun in the back of his pants, and he tenses. 

Jill has the nerve to speak again. “That can’t be comfortable,” she laughs.

“You can’t be serious,” you snap back. 

“Shhhh,” Joel whispers into your hair. “‘S’okay, baby.”  

“I’m comfortable,” you tell Joel.

“I know, sweet pea.” He nuzzles his nose at the top of your ear. “‘s’okay, baby,” he whispers. You rock your hips into him, feeling him grow harder. He pulls you tight, adjusting your weight. He moves one hand to your thigh. You grind yourself into him and he lets out a little “mm.” 

“Um, okay,” she mumbles in disgust. 

You snarl and turn your head away from her, back toward Joel. Then you turn your head toward Carter. Carter is absentmindedly examining the bite on his hand. Ron is spaced out, watching Carter’s face. Then, his eyes fall down to Carter’s lap. 

“You’re bit,” Jill announces. “Ron, he’s bit!” 

Ron snaps out of his daze, sits up self-consciously, and when his eyes fall on Carter’s hand, his face hardens.

Carter protests, “It’s not–” 

“--It was the dog,” your head snaps back toward Jill. “It doesn’t look anything like Infected.” She just wants attention. She wants drama. 

“It was the dog,” Joel repeats, unamused. It sounds like a warning. Joel’s hand on your thigh nudges the gun loose from your holster. Your hand wraps around the handle of the gun in the back of Joel’s pants. 

“Lemme see it,” Ron demands.  He stands up and points his gun at Carter.  He snarls with a look of disgust. His face has completely transformed since a moment ago.

“SIT DOWN,” Joel booms and grabs the gun out of your holster. 

Carter starts to offer, “I’ll show-”

“No ya won’t,” Joel snaps as he stands up with you still wrapped around him. Joel points the gun at Ron. “Come into my yard, orderin’ us around?” Joel’s deep voice vibrates in your ear, then he whispers, “Go inside,” as he tries to let you down. You take the gun out of the back of his pants. “Inside, now.” You put your feet on the ground. 

“Nobody owns this land,” Ron laughs. 

“C’mon, man, y’all know how it works,” Carter seems to try to de-escalate. “Show some respect.” 

You slowly, carefully recede into the shadows, but you don’t go inside.  

Jill points her gun at Carter and demands, “Show us.” With everyone else’s eyes fixed tensely on each other, you can approach her from behind, undetected.  Two guns are pointed at Carter and one at Ron. Carter reaches for his rifle, and Ron braces his own gun with both hands. Ron cocks the hammer, and you quietly approach Jill from behind. 

Ron adjusts his finger on the trigger, and Joel shoots him in the head.  Jill screams. 

It all happens in an instant: You lunge forward, tackling her to the ground, making her drop her gun.  You could shoot her in the head, but something makes you toss your gun aside. You can't stop yourself from putting your hands around her throat.  She claws at your chest and breasts. She slaps you, and it stings.  You elbow her in the face, keeping one hand on her neck. She keeps clawing at you. “Stupid whore,” she spits. 

“I'm only his,” you snap back. She laughs. “And he’s mine,” you pant and put your palm over her face, covering as much of it as you can, putting all your weight on her.  Before she can bite you, Joel’s massive hands are firm around your arms, pulling you off. You resist, and he wraps an arm around your middle. 

“‘S’okay,” he repeats as he pulls you off, and lifts you into standing.  “Go inside.”

You hesitate and he firmly adds, “Now. I'll handle this.” He gives you a look that says he means it.  Then he turns his attention to Jill.  She coughs as you walk away. She whimpers and plays up how injured she is. Pathetic. 

“Hey,” Joel’s voice softens for her.  “You’ll be alright,” he tells her. You glance back and he’s what? He’s straddling her. He has his hands on her face. Is he . . .stroking her hair? You can’t see well enough. Your chest burns, and you start to turn around completely, wanting to approach them.  

But Carter whispers, “C’mon, let’s go,” and gently takes your elbow. 

Maybe it’s for the best. You walk with Carter in a daze. Maybe you were seeing things. No, Joel is comforting her. Your Joel is straddling and comforting the woman who just slapped you and called you a whore. 

“It's okay,” Joel reassures Jill again, then you hear the loud crack of her neck snapping. 

You feel a lot of things. Joy, relief, guilt–not for being happy, but for doubting Joel. 

Carter opens the trailer door and you go inside. 

-

For a few minutes, you just sit at the table. Your relief at Jill’s demise quickly fades when you realize she died thinking Joel liked her. Joel acting sweet with her even for a few seconds was more than she deserved. 

Now you can't calm down. All your muscles are tense. You start to cry, then you go to get a glass of water. Your hand is shaking and you can hardly hold the glass. You want to throw it, but you put it down, still empty, on the counter. You take a deep breath, bury your mouth in your shoulder, then scream as loud as you can, until you're out of air and your throat is sore. You cough and spit over the sink, nauseous from the effort. Then you slump down onto the kitchen floor in tears. 

Almost as soon as you hit the floor, the front door opens. It's not Joel, it's Carter. 

“What happened?” Carter rushes over to you.

“Where's Joel?”

“Haulin’ a body.” 

“Which body? Don't let him touch her!”

He looks at you, stunned for a second, then says, “Not hers.” 

“You promise?” you try to choke back tears. 

“God damn, you're both losin’ it,” Carter mutters to himself. Then he hesitantly reaches for your shoulder. “Shhh, it's okay.” 

You lunge toward him on your knees and let yourself fall onto his chest.  He looks over his shoulder then hesitantly hugs you. “Okay,” he whispers with his hands very lightly touching your back but not resting their full weight. He gives you a moment, then clears his throat. “I've gotta. . . ” He lets go, stands up, and fills the glass of water.  “Here.” He puts it on the table, then comes back to you. 

“Been a long day, huh?” Carter asks. He squats down and takes your elbow in his hand. “C’mon.” You wipe your eyes on your flannel and stand up. He guides you to the table with his hand on your back and pulls out a chair for you. He leaves you at the table with your water. 

—--

You sit there for a minute, sipping your water. Then go to the bathroom to splash your face. You stop crying. You fix your hair. But your eyes are still misty.  You look at your chest in the mirror. She scratched you. You can see a couple of her scratch marks better than Joel’s name. Your chest heats up as you stare at it, and your heart beats faster. You take calming breaths. You want her to go away. You don’t want anyone on your skin but Joel. You dab your chest with a cold washcloth. The worst scratch is right over the ‘J’.  

You open the medicine cabinet, don’t find anything useful, and close it. You go to the kitchen and find a pocket knife in one of the drawers. You bring it back to the bathroom and open the sharpest blade. What if you just. . .if you make the ‘J’ a little better, maybe. It’s like she goes away.  How should you do it? You look down at yourself. You can’t really see. You look in the mirror and bring the knife to your chest. The hand-eye coordination is hard in the mirror.

You’re looking in the mirror, holding the pocket knife in your hand, when the front door opens and slams shut. Joel’s boots thud, then stop. He says your name.  “You okay?” 

You sniffle.  He approaches the bathroom door. It's not shut. You move toward the door to shut it, but you're too late. Joel stops it from closing. He's so much stronger than you, he pushes it open with ease, then his arms wrap you in a hug and the force of it walks you backward toward the sink. 

You still have the knife open in your hand. As his arms tighten, you whisper, “Careful,” and hold your hand away. 

He pulls away, looks you over, and looks at your hand. “Hell are ya doin’,” he mutters. 

You turn back toward the mirror and stroke the ‘J’. “Making it better?” 

“Makin’ it. .  .” 

Your eyes water again as you face the mirror fully. Joel turns toward the mirror, too, standing behind you. You run your fingers over your chest with one hand and hold the knife with the other. 

Joel's face changes when he realizes what you're doing. He grabs your wrist so hard you reflexively drop the knife and it clatters into the sink. “No.”

He picks it up, closes it, and puts it behind the faucet. He looks at your face in the mirror. “Can't let ya do that.” 

“You said people can’t see it.”

“Told ya we’d figure somethin’ else out.”

“Like what?” 

Joel runs his hand over your chest, and his thumb lingers on the scratch over the J. His nostrils flare, his head tilts down, and his eyes darken under his brow. “This from her?”

You nod.

Joel sighs and steps over to the bathtub. He starts a shower. He takes his shirt off over his back. You back away toward the door, and start to give him some space.

“Whoa, nuh-uh” Joel stops you. “Did I say leave?” 

“Sorry.”

“Take your clothes off.” He sits on the toilet to untie his boots, then slips out of them and takes off his socks. 

“Ya know, ya came out there. Got her all worked up,” he grumbles. What? That’s not fair.

“I just wanted you.”

“You were starin’ right at her, sweet pea.”

“I just wanted to be on you, wanted to touch you,” you insist. 

“She wanted her grubby hands on you.”

“You think that's what she wanted?”

“And she got it, didn't she?” Joel asks rhetorically, eyes fixed on your chest again. He clenches his jaw at the sight of her touch. He nods toward the shower. “That’s yours.”

“Can I have a bath?” You know it’s a long shot. He’s not in the mood to wait for water to boil. 

“Fire's out and we’re outta gas.  Gonna be cold either way.”  

You brace yourself for the water. Joel remains seated on the closed toilet and holds your hand to help you balance as you step into the tub. You're far enough back that the water only hits from your abdomen down. It's not quite as bad as you expect, but gives you a chill all over. He scans your body as it prickles in goosebumps and your nipples pebble. He reaches behind you for the soap, then lathers a washcloth. He starts with your chest. The scrape stings. 

“She wanted you, not me,” you mutter, wincing at the echo of your own words under the light beating of the water. Joel slows down and you continue, “She was looking at you, not me.” He stops the washcloth on your clavicle. Lather pours between your breasts and trickles down your sternum. 

Joel squints at you, looks from your mouth to your tits, swallows, and refocuses on the task, adjusting the washcloth in his hand. 

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, sweet pea,” he murmurs and begins to slide the cloth slowly across your skin. 

It’s nice to hear, but it’s not enough. Your eyes feel weak. “Well, I do worry about it,” you croak and feel the tears coming back. 

He adjusts himself, then sighs. “You always cry in the shower?” 

The coldness stings.

“Are you mad at me,” you ask shakily.

Joel curses himself under his breath. His brow furrows at your breasts and he braces his wet hand on his knee. “No, baby.” His eyes rise to meet yours, and he cups your cheek. “No. . .Just tired. . .” He searches your face. “Too many bodies in those woods. Gettin’ old.” You sniffle. You start mentally going through the bodies, and your head hurts at the thought. Joel says, “and ya can’t get in my shot like that, sweet pea.” You relax a little more. Your tears wane at the thought that he was already planning to kill her. 

Joel stands up, hands you the washcloth, and starts to undo his jeans. You watch his pants come down over his crotch, a sight that always makes your breath hitch. “Face the water,” he mumbles, and you obey, staying far enough back not to get your head wet. He braces his hand on the far wall of the shower and steps in, squeezing between you and the back of the tub. You inch forward to make room. His feet are spread around yours and his hands rest on your hips for a moment. He presses his lips into the crown of your head, then reaches around your front to take the washcloth from you. 

Joel presses himself up against your back, then continues to wash your chest. He soaps up your breasts again, then cradles one with his bare hand as he washes your trunk. You look down and watch the suds slide down your body. He washes your hips, your thighs. You’re grateful for the warmth of his groin against you. He turns you to the side and washes your sides, under your arms, your back, your ass, your legs. Then he tells you to rinse off while he washes himself. He steps all the way under the cold water without so much as flinching.  When he’s finished, he rinses off, turns off the water, and wraps you in a hug. The water rolls off your skin and the faucet drips as you stand there in his arms.

After a few minutes, Joel’s deep voice slices through the silence. “Carter's stayin’ tonight. Wait here.”  This unsettles you because you imagine Joel must be worried about something to have Carter stay. Did he believe her about the Infected?

Joel wraps a towel around himself and leaves you in the bathroom with your own towel.  You look in the mirror for a moment, then quickly avert your eyes from your reflection.  

Joel returns with clothes for you. He’s in plaid pj pants and a white t-shirt. Both are too small on him. His pockets are puckered.  You smile at the sliver of skin between his pants and shirt, and he asks, “What?” 

You shrug. “You’re wearing pjs.” 

“Yeah? Well I ain't wearin’em long,” he murmurs and you feel a twitch of need. “You're gonna finish what ya started out there.” He looks at you darkly. “Got it?”

You bite your lip and nod as desire throbs between your legs. 

“That means I ain't doin’ it, you are.” 

Your chest flutters with butterflies. 

He rests a flannel on his shoulder, while he holds up your nightie for you. You lift your arms and he puts it over your head.  He pulls it down and pats your butt. “Want it that bad. . .” He holds the flannel up for you and you stick your arms in. He brings his mouth to your ear. “Gonna show me how bad.” 

The front door opens and shuts. 

“All good?” Joel yells. 

“All good,” Carter answers, then exaggerates a loud yawn. 

“Blankets in the closet,” Joel yells. 

Joel brushes his teeth and leaves you to get ready for bed. 

-

Joel returns just as you're finishing up. He shoves his hand in the puckered pocket of the pj pants and pulls out something brown and strappy that looks small in his hands. It looks like a piece of your holster, but thinner, more delicate. His brow furrows at it and he swallows.  He sits on the closed toilet seat again. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

“It's. . .” He looks at your chest. “C'mere.” You step forward. He holds the object against his thigh and with his other hand, he traces the letters on your chest. “It's better than tryin’ to . . .” he trails off. He looks at your face, then back to your chest and caresses it again. “Better than this.” Your heart swells. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to hurt you. 

He looks at the object in his lap. 

“It's for me?”

He nods. He takes a deep breath and fiddles with the belt-like closure. “Can wear a sweater or whatever, and still. . .” 

“Lemme try it on.”

He searches your eyes. “Really want to?” 

You nod.

He stands up and guides you to the sink. He stands behind you as you both look in the mirror. He wraps it around your throat. Your breath hitches when you see his name in careful, bold lettering, clear but imperfect. It’s an odd sensation, having something around your neck, but the back of it is soft against your skin. It’s smoother and more delicate than the holster is on your thigh. 

“It's beautiful,” you tell him as he concentrates on putting it on you.  

He's gentle and careful. He fastens it with enough room to breathe and swallow. You look at it in the mirror, and the fact that he made it makes you emotional. “You made it,” you whisper.

He nods. “Don't gotta wear it all the time, but-”

“I love it.” 

“Yeah?” he turns you around with his hands on your hips, and his gaze devours your form from head to toe. “Well, God damn. . .Looks good on ya, too.” 

You wrap your arms around him and he hugs you close. He leans back to see you wearing the choker.  “Let's go to bed.”

—-—--

You take off the flannel and get in bed. You bury your head in your pillow. Joel wraps you in his legs and arms, muscles straining his pajamas as he holds you in the dim room. His big, warm hand strokes your back. His body is like a furnace. You take deep breaths. In his bed, in his arms, you finally feel like you can breathe. His arms feel like home in a way that nearly overwhelms you. These are the arms that took you. They hurt you and pushed you away. Would they still? These arms hold you and care for you. They comfort you and kill for you. You hope they never let go. 

It doesn't feel like you were ever really home before him, and it's impossible to imagine an after. There is no after. You're his. In the cruel, awful world, he carved out this space just for you. He kisses your forehead. You pinch your eyes shut and a tear runs down your cheek. It's a tear of relief. You press your cheek into his white t-shirt and his warm package twitches against you. He pushes his hips into you only slightly, and keeps holding you. You focus on his breathing and the beat of his heart. 

You wedge your hand between your bodies. Your knuckles slide down your abdomen, and your palm skims his tummy on its way to his pants. You cradle the warm bulge in his flannel. You press your palm into it and he grunts softly as he presses his hips forward. Then he wraps an arm over you.  He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You're on top of him, and your heart flutters as his words from the bathroom echo. That means you’re doin' it. 

-

You come to your knees, and he watches you curiously as you straddle him. You lower yourself so your panties meet his flannel, and the warmth of his bulge sends a shock to your chest. You lightly grind against him and watch his chest rise and fall as his cock swells against your neediest place. His hips lift and his eyes gloss over as he watches you move on him. You must be a vision – swollen, misty eyes, scratched up chest – but the look on his face says you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

That means you're doin’ it.  

You scoot back so you’re straddling his thighs.  You bring your hand just above his waistband, and your thumb traces his happy trail up under his t-shirt to his belly button, bringing the shirt up with you. You use both hands to push it up and he asks, “Want this off?” 

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “Just like to see this. You slide your hand down his stomach, once again running your thumb through the hair leading to his groin. You run your hand slowly up and down it a few times and feel his muscles tense under the light padding of his tummy. The bulge in his pants becomes more of a tent. His tummy flexes as he rises up enough to take the shirt off anyway.

“What else ya like?” He asks. By now, he knows. Oh God, does he know.  But he must want to hear it. He must want to see it, feel it. He wets his bottom lip. You back up down his legs and take his flannel pants down. His cock bounces free, and for a moment, you dismount him entirely.  Once the pjs are down below his knees, he kicks them off the rest of the way as you take off your underwear. He sucks in air through his nose as he watches you. He's still, and he’s quiet, but the look on his face is more pain than patience. 

You straddle his legs, bend at the hips, and rest your elbows on either side of his hips. You take his cock in one hand, then bring your lips to the head. He's still not at full mast. Not for him. For another man, this might be as hard as it gets, but not Joel. You suck the tip into your mouth. A masochistic part of you imagines how many women might have sucked this cock. You have, too, of course. But you want to outdo them all. You suck as much of it into your mouth as you can, and he sucks in a shaky breath as you furrow your brows and close your eyes. You suck from the back of your mouth, and your throat gurgles obscenely as his tip nudges it, then you gag. His hand rests gently on the side of your head. “You’re okay.” 

You lock eyes with him as you slowly let his shaft out of your mouth. A string connects your lips to his tip until you wipe your mouth with the back of your wrist. You hold his shaft in a loose fist, thumbing his dorsal vein as you turn your attention to his balls. You cup his balls, then lick a stripe up the seam of his sack, and his hand grips the fitted sheet. When you look up at him, he releases the sheet. Your tongue circles his left nut and he closes his eyes. You have your free hand braced on his upper thigh, near where it meets his torso, and you can practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. His eyes meet yours again, and his brows are furrowed. 

“Can I have them in my mouth,” you ask and he nods encouragingly. 

You take one into your mouth and circle your tongue around it. You let it rest on your tongue then give it a gentle suck and he breathes, “oh God damn.” It’s fuzzy and soft and feels nice in your mouth.

You pinch your eyes shut and sigh, “Mm,” with your mouth full. You move to the other one, careful and gentle.  “Ohh,” he moans a little louder than you expect, and you pause. 

You look toward the bedroom door nervously, and take your mouth off. You’re about to remind him about Carter, but he cuts you off, “Shhh,” before you can. 

You lick all around his balls again, and his cock throbs angrily in your hand. You suck a ball into your mouth. You want both, but there’s no way you can do it without scraping him with your teeth, so you don’t. 

Instead, you return your lips to his tip and feel yourself throbbing as you suck his shaft into your mouth. When you look up, he’s shaking his head no.  

“This aint what ya wanted, baby.”

“Is it good?” you ask. 

“Yeah. It's good, sweet pea. . .The best.” His thumb brushes your temple. He moves his fingers to tilt your chin up to look at him.  “But this ain't what ya want *really* want.”

“Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah? You were bouncin’ on my cock out there, just to make me feel good?”

You twitch and swallow and your chest flutters with desire.  

“What’d I tell ya in the bathroom?”

“I'm gonna finish what I started”

“That’s right,” he nods. 

His cock is raging hard. You’re throbbing and gushing for it. You give the tip of it one last kiss, then get up on your knees and take your time positioning yourself over it. You press his tip against your most sensitive place for a moment and let out a whimper. The contact makes you ache for him. 

—

Joel cradles the backs of your thighs as you hold his cock. You look down as you move forward just a little more, then nestle his cockhead at your dripping hole, the very tip of it prodding just barely inside. You’re more than wet enough. You brace your hands on his tummy, near the bottom of his ribs.  Then, you begin to sink down with a whimper, letting his cock spread you open.  He growls, “God damn.”  You're biting your lip, with his big cock stretching you already. 

He nods, “go on, you can do it.” You lift yourself up and bend slightly forward, tilting your hips. He sucks in air through his teeth. He grabs your hips, and you groan as he pulls you down. “Fuck,” he breathes heavily. He loosens his hands on your hips, then moves them to your thighs. You sit still on his cock with your body angled slightly forward, your clit pressing into his pubic hair.  You savor the fullness and the way your body makes space for him. 

You brace your hands on his chest and begin to move yourself. “Good girl,” he whispers with a gentle thrust of his hips. You whimper as his length nudges deep inside, and his hips lift you. 

You lift your ass and let most of his length out, before swallowing it up again and moaning with the delicious stretch. You slowly move yourself, and when you whimper, you feel his nipples harden under your hands. You palm his pecs as you ride his cock.  His chest rises with deep breaths as you fuck him. His eyes keep drifting to his name wrapped around your neck.

You try to be quiet, biting your lip, but you still let out little moans, you can't help it.  So does he. “Ohhh, baby—ohh.” His sounds are desperate, from deep in his chest. 

“Ya do it good,” he whispers. He cradles your ass in his massive hands and begins to move you on him, a little faster than you were going. He watches your breasts move under your nightie.  He lifts up the hem of your nightie to watch your cunt swallow his length, and he groans softly. You pause and take it off, then start moving again. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then his hands return to your ass, gently guiding your rhythm. He clenches his jaw, and you can tell he's trying not to take over entirely. 

“C’mere a minute,” he murmurs. 

His tummy pudges and wrinkles over his flexing abs, and his fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he sits up. He wraps his arms around you and turns to face the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. “Hang on,” he murmurs. “Hang on, baby.” He holds your back with one arm, stands up slightly, and pulls at one of your thighs. You adjust your position so you’re seated instead of kneeling and your bent legs wrap loosely around him. Without the leverage of your knees on the bed, it’s up to him.

You have your arms around his neck and your face against his cheek. Your lips pull like a magnet to the skin just below the dark, curly hair on his head.  You plant a kiss on his neck and suck lightly. He exhales vocally. He hugs you into him and moves you up and down. He’s doing it all now. You both sigh and moan as his cock fills you up. 

Then, he loosens his arms and slides his hands to your shoulder blades. He hooks his thumbs under your arms and breathes, “Lemme see ya for a minute.” 

You hesitantly let him pull you away from his body, missing the heat of his chest against yours. 

“Ain't gonna drop ya, sweet pea.” 

You relax some of your weight into his hands, and he brings you all the way down so you're lying face up with your lower back on his lap. His hands under your arms hold you steady as he thrusts into you, like your body is a warm, wet sleeve for him. You let your head fall back in pleasure. He grunts as he moves you, and you look again to see him snarl. He looks down and watches his cock disappear again and again.

“God damn you feel good,” he whispers. His eyes roam from your eyes to your lips, to your choker, to your tits. He watches where your bodies are joined as he keeps thrusting into you, making you feel like no one ever has. Then his eyes drift up your body again. He slows down. His hands tighten, and he grunts as he brings your body upright again. Your breasts meet his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck again as he hugs you.  Your cheek rests against his jaw, and his scuff scratches you pleasantly. “Always so good,” he breathes, moving you on his cock. His breath is warm against your ear. “Ohh baby,“ he sighs. 

He tilts his chin to look up at the ceiling, and you latch onto his neck. He braces a hand on the bed and his hips lift under yours as you grind your body into his. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Oh, God, baby. You're–you’re so good for me,” he pants, barely above a whisper. “Ohhh–so good, sweet pea.” 

You release his neck with a whimper. He cradles your head with one hand, and his cheek returns to yours. 

As you ride him, his head slowly drifts back, so his breath is on your cheek instead of your ear. Your lips are dangerously close, and Joel doesn't pull away. Your mouths get closer while your bodies move as one. Soon, the corners of your lips are touching. You breathe and moan against each other's mouths. Your lips tingle at the closeness, and all you want is his mouth on yours. It feels so close. The sides of your mouths move against each other. It’s enough, just feeling his lips. You want more, but it’s enough, for now. He pulls his head back, and your heart barely has time to sink before he leans his forehead against yours and cradles the back of your head. Your mouths loosely connect, with his lower lip hitching on your upper lip every time you slide down his cock. You breathe each other’s breath. Your noses touch. His bottom lip tenses, and his mouth follows yours, not letting your lips slip away. You moan softly against his mouth, pinching your eyes shut, resisting the urge, resisting it.  

Then, Joel presses his open lips against yours. His lips drag lightly, clockwise, then they truly embrace you. As your mouths seal together, you half-moan, half-whine, “Mmm.” His lips are strong and desperate, pulling on yours like a hug. You can feel him taking your air and your spit. He sucks it right out of you, replacing it with an even more desperate need for him. You’re having him, you’re having all of him, but you can never have enough. Arousal floods your body. It gathers deep in your gut and bubbles up to your chest.  You take a deep breath through your nose as his tongue slowly thrusts into your mouth and finds yours. His cock is in your tight, wet cunt, and his tongue is in your soft little mouth. You throb and twitch on his cock, and you're nearly overcome. Your whole body simmers. He wraps his arm tighter around you, and your tits smush against him as he kisses you hungrily, and you kiss back.  It’s real, it’s really–it’s real. His hand slides down to grip the back of your neck as your mouths move together, drawing each other in, deeper and deeper, like you need it to live.  

“Mmmm,” you whine at your imminent peak. 

“Mm,” he grunts into your mouth as you twitch again on his cock.  His tongue slides against yours, and the tension boils over violently, erupting from your core out to every inch of your body. Your walls clench, and you don't want to let go of his mouth, but your body jerks. Your lips begin to break away with a moan as you spasm on his cock. He holds you there by your neck. Your mouths stay half connected, and you breathe and moan against each other. Time freezes and waves of pleasure ripple through your core. Then, Joel’s thick cock twitches in the embrace of your spasming cunt. “Ugghh,” grunts, then his lips take yours again. “Mmmm.” He erupts, and you're still not finished. He holds you still, holds you tight. His hips lift slowly into you as his cock pulses. Massive bursts of warmth flood your core, and he kisses you slowly but needily as he comes. The kiss becomes sloppy. You both breathe through your noses, but your mouths still disconnect for split seconds, breathing each other’s humid breath.

When Joel finishes emptying his load into you, he gently pulls his lips from yours to take a deeper breath. He leans back and collapses on the bed. You sit there on his cock, still twitching, and your hand drifts to your tingling lips. His hands rest on your thighs. You watch his chest expand with air, and you watch his face. He opens his eyes, then silently motions c’mere with both hands. You fold at your hips and hug him. As you settle in, he strokes the nape of your neck. His chest rises and falls under your cheek. He unfastens the leather choker for you. You were planning to sleep in it, but now that he’s kissed you–and it was more than that, it felt like more–you don't feel quite as desperate for the tangible reminder that he wants you. You have it. Your lips are buzzing. Your whole body is. You can feel it in your bones. 

-

After a few minutes of caressing you, Joel murmurs, “Let's get some sleep.” 

You both get under the covers. He lies on his back. You’ve never seen his face so peaceful. You rest your head and half your body on him. You rest your hand on his chest.  He strokes your back. Then, he lays his other hand on top of yours.  

Soon, you drift off to the sound of him lightly snoring. 

----

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Raider POV: The Kiss

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So, I was writing this one when I took the detour to let Carter jack off lmao: He's only human.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I really appreciate your support and patience and love for these characters. Out of all my characters, it means so much to me when you engage with raider Joel because I pour a lot of myself into this one and have been writing it for >8 months.

Love you all so much! I can't respond to everything without spamming but I appreciate all of your commentary so much and often revisit it when I need inspo.

I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not getting a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon

[earthchica]

whiskey kisses

logan howlett x black! reader

summary: You are sexually frustrated and Wade tries to hook you up with Logan.

warning: explicit smut (18+), drinking alcohol, protected sex, dirty talking, foreplay, oral & vaginal fingering (f), pet names (sweet pea, baby, etc.)

__

"Hey Peter, how about another round?" You inquired with a smile, sliding your empty glass across the counter.

You were attending a party that your neighbor friend, Wade Wilson was throwing.

He's been encouraging you to socialize more ever since your messy divorce.

So here you were, all dressed up and feeling pretty. You were told there would be eligible bachelors here which got you thinking about having a lighthearted post-divorce fling.

You jolted back to reality when a familiar voice called your name. You swiveled around to find Wade.

"Anyone caught your eye yet?" He chirped, plopping down beside you at the small bar.

"Wade, you promised eligible bachelors at this party, but I'm not spotting any," You exclaimed, swiveling on your stool to scan the room.

"Yeah…I know sweet pea. I just told you that so you can hook up with the perfect guy to blow your back out" He quipped, gesturing towards Logan who was sitting in the corner, sipping a glass of whiskey.

"What about Logan? He's single, trustworthy, and easy on the eyes.," He whispered that last part with a grin.

"No, Wade. No, I can't ask him. That would be weird; plus he's a friend," You declined, shaking your head.

"Why the hell not? Maybe he'd say yes if you asked. Come on, you asked me for help and I've given it to you" He pressed.

"Ugh…what? No way…I can't just be like, 'Hey, logan feeling lonely, wanna…you know fuck?" You joked, rolling your eyes.

"Oh my god, if you go up and say that to him…I think I'll die happy" Wade says, sharing a glance with you, and you both burst into laughter.

"Okay, that was a bit much, but still. Logan….I don't think he's the type of guy who would be into that"

"_____, I'm gonna be honest. You gotta stop being so fucking uptight and just go with the flow, sweet pea"

"Whoa, hold up! I am not uptight," You fire back, arms crossed in defense.

"sweet pea, this is me you're talking to. You know I'm right" He teases, raising an eyebrow.

"Ugh…fine," You shake your head, slightly irritated. "Yay, now come on!" He chuckles, tugging you along.

"Where are we going?" You ask, feeling a bit jittery.

"Going to have fun, something you're overdue for," Wade replies, pulling you to the dance floor.

You take a deep breath, let loose, and groove to the music, swinging your hips from side to side.

"Oh look who's watching you," He whispers in your ear, and Logan looks at you with a deep gaze, jealousy gracing his face.

He was eyeing you like a lion tracking its prey, a new look that intrigued you.

It's kind of, a turn-on.

"Take the hint!" Wade nudges before going to join Vanessa. A favorite song of yours started blasting.

It was time to crank up the sass and put on a show for his eyes only. You shut your eyes and let your hips groove, causing a commotion with your ass.

A cheeky grin crept onto your face as a familiar hand landed on your lower back.

"You took your sweet time," You teased, sensing his flawless frame snug against yours.

His touch glided over the silky material of your dress as we swayed in sync on the dance floor, perfectly attuned to each other's beat.

"You look so gorgeous tonight, sweetheart. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you…I've been holding back saying this but I want you," Logan murmurs in your ear.

"What do you mean, you want me?" You inquire, fully aware of his intentions, yet craving to hear him verbalize them.

"You know what I mean! I'm attracted to you, always have been. When we first met I thought you were the most gorgeous woman" he declares, gently turning your body to meet his gaze.

His gaze pierced through you, those hazel brown eyes longing for something untold.

"You'll be amazed by how irresistible I am," You teased, nervously nibbling on your lip.

His lips inch closer to your ears, the warmth of his breath dancing tantalizingly on your brown skin.

"Can I kiss you?" he murmurs, and in a split second, you yank him closer for a fiery smooch, tangling your fingers in his hair.

His hands decided to take a detour from your waist to my backside, giving it a playful pat.

Breaking away from the kiss, he rose to his full height, enjoying how he towered you.

"Let's go somewhere…more private" he declares, not bothering to hear your response.

You both waved goodbye to everyone, made your grand exit, and quickly made it to your apartment

_

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll forget your name" Logan whispered, leaving kisses down the back of your neck.

You both triumphantly crossed the threshold of your front door, while kissing and touching all over.

Logan pulls away to lift you up and secure your legs around his waist, before carrying you to your bedroom following your instructions.

He sets you down on the bed before enjoying you. He begins kissing and caressing your neck.

His hand moves under your dress to softly stroking through your panties.

You gently pushed him back, removing his shirt and tossing it across the room. Then, your hands move to his pants' belt.

You played with the belt for a second until it was finally unlatched. You noticed a noticeable bulge starting to emerge in his underwear.

You lightly grazed against his pants, and he let out a groan. You swiftly turned him onto his back and liberated him from his pants and underwear.

You couldn't resist a dramatic gasp! You looked at his big, juicy erect member.

How the hell was that going to fit?

"This is all for you, amor" Logan teases, almost tearing your dress off in one swift move!

He let out a gasp when he caught a glimpse of your big, plump breasts and your black panties

"Oh sweetheart, you have the most perfect tits I have ever seen," He says, cheekily flipping you over and playfully swiping your panties off!

He makes his way down to your entrance, giving you a few light circle strokes before inserting two fingers into your dripping core.

"Logan, please!" You moaned in pleasure, trying to push him away because the faster he thrust his fingers in and out of you.

The louder you get.

"Tell me what you want, baby? and I'll give it to you" He asks, pressing his forehead against mine while still fingering the heck out of you.

"I-I-want you to fuck me." You screamed through your orgasm and as you came down from your high.

Logan begins leaving sweet kisses down your neck as you catch your breath.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, watching him slurp his fingers spotless. He nodded and dashed off the bed to grab one from his pants.

Logan gets back on the bed, rolling the condom on his member before spreading your legs open to position himself at your core

"Ahh Fuck!" You gasped, feeling how huge he was and loving how he stretched you out.

You placed your hand on his hip as he began to thrust in and out, holding your waist.

"Shit baby…you feel like heaven. I could stay inside of you forever" His thrusts became faster, looking down, admiring the way his member moves in and out of you.

"Logan, don't stop" You let out a dramatic moan as he lifted you and plopped down on his back.

"I would never stop" He starts pounding up into you with some unbelievable force, making you scream in pleasure.

You threw your head back, placing your hands on his chest; trying to match his rhythm of thrust.

"Yes! Yes! Just like that" You moaned, feeling another orgasm getting closer and closer.

"You like that huh, does it feel good? You've always dreamed of this moment huh, baby?" Logan moans, grabbing your breast for a second, letting you bounce up and down his shaft.

"Yes, so good! It feels so good, Logan" You cried as he kept going and going, feeling like you were gonna lose your damn mind.

He stopped you for a second and pulled out, changing the position with your face down and your ass up.

"Oh…baby. You also have the most perfect ass" Logan groans, smacking your ass over and over again while pounding into your core.

"LOGAN!" You cried, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. He brought you up and wrapped his hand around your throat while his other hand rubbed your entrance.

"Come. Come for me, my sweet girl!" He whispers in your ear, and you let out a scream, feeling the great release.

Logan curses while pulling out, rips the condom off, and comes all over your ass.

You landed smack on your belly, catching a mischievous grin on his face before closing your eyes.

"Fuck…I love you…You are so…" Realizing what he was saying, Logan went into full panic mode.

He looked down to see your reaction but breathed a sigh of relief realizing you were out cold.

[yogurtkags]

❝ DELICATE ❞ — kageyama tobio

cw: gn!reader, fluff, depictions of eczema/skin issues, insecurity, hurt/comfort, established relationship, extremely self-indulgent | wc: 507

it’s so itchy.

the sensation of your nails dragging against the bumpy and dry flaking skin scratching an itch like no other, the satisfaction of peeling a scab so great until it stings. and bleeds. and then all of a sudden showering hurts—

“i can hear you scratching.” tobio calls out from the kitchen as he walks out with a tall glass of water and a bowl of berries, setting it down on the coffee table and sinking down on the plush couch next to you.

your hand pauses in it's movements for barely a minute before going back to it's bad habit, words dragging out in a whine when you hear him let out a tch in disapproval, "i can't help it."

“i know, but you gotta stop it.” he chides, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together, thumb rubbing soothing circles to distract you and effectively put a stop to your scratching. "picking at it isn't going to make it better."

hands still clasped together, he leans off to the side and blindly pats around the side table, feeling around for the small tube of healing ointment sitting in the black ceramic cat trinket dish (obviously you picked it out, saying it looked just like him).

coming back to you, he wraps his arm around your frame and pulls you closer, squeezing a pea sized amount of ointment on his fingertip and gently spreading it across your broken skin, raw and red from your incessant assault. it’s your fault really for letting it get this bad, but you hiss at the sting anyway, never quite getting used to the burn no matter how many times this has happened.

it’s always been something you struggle with, not just the itch but also accepting the way the patches looked. it’s ugly, and discoloured, the splotches unsightly, and seeing it in the mirror everyday comes with a matching frown. exposing the affected skin doesn’t come easy for you, avoiding it as much as possible and hiding it behind a layer of fabric where you can, but some materials make it itch even more, feeling helpless and insecure as you bare it to the world.

“almost done.” he mumbles, catching you stare off dejectedly from the corner of his eye.

tobio doesn’t need to pay a penny for your thoughts to know you’re feeling down about it again, your silence says a lot. you’ve been together long enough that he can mostly tell what you’re thinking from just your body language and facial expressions, you’ve always been an open book and wore your heart on your sleeve around him after all. he learned to pick up on your cues and subtleties with time, the same way you’ve slowly softened his edges.

a lingering kiss to your temple leads you out of the dense forest of your thoughts like a light in the darkness, his fingers gently holding your chin up to look into his softened, doting eyes.

“i love every part of you.”

and don’t you forget it.

gen taglist. open (send an ask / comment to be added!) @wyrcan networks. @the-all-stars-network @houseofsolisoccasum

notes. the self insert is inserting, i literally had a mini flare up and was scratching at my ezcema while writing this

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[seiya-starsniper]

"I love your smile" with dreamling from the gentle prompts

Hello I am 8 million years later answering this anon, sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy it!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Also available on AO3

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It’s the kind of perfect spring day that the poets used to write about. Cool in the morning and warm, but not hot by mid-afternoon. There are sparse clouds in the sky, and the air is fragrant with the smell of flowers, of new life, of new beginnings. The fact that this perfect spring day also falls on a Saturday means that Hob Gadling is out with his camera, photographing every leaf, every small creature, happy couple, and passing vehicle that catches his attention.

And of course, his boyfriend.

It may be a beautiful and warm spring day, but Dream Endless is dressed like it's still the middle of winter; black jeans and black Doc Martens paired with a black tee and black pea coat to complete the ensemble. Hob had managed to talk him out of wearing the black scarf, at least. He knew Dream ran cold even in the summer, but the scarf would have definitely been too warm for today. In contrast, Hob is out in just a plain white t-shirt, cargo shorts and sneakers, and he’s certain that the two of them must strike their own kind of picture walking side by side through the park. Perhaps he’ll ask someone to snap a photo of them on his phone later.  

Right now though, Hob’s having too much fun taking photos of Dream. Dream feeding the ducks with the small bag of seeds he’d brought along for just this purpose, Dream stopping to admire the various sculptures scattered throughout the park, Dream stopping to re-lace his boots. 

“You take far too many photos of me,” Dream tells Hob eventually, rolling his eyes as he stands back up.

“What can I say?” Hob laughs, snapping another photo of Dream’s unamused face. “I love your smile.”

“Hob,” Dream says, leveling a flat stare at him. Hob continues to click away. “I am not smiling in any of the photos you’ve taken.” 

He’s right, but only by a technicality. Dream hasn’t smiled once while looking at Hob’s camera. But the ones where he isn’t paying attention to Hob’s lens, well. That was a different story. But Dream didn’t need to know that right now. Later in the day, maybe. 

“I know this may be hard to believe since it ruins that whole tortured poet look you’ve got going on,” Hob quips back at his boyfriend, amusement clear in his tone. “But you do smile.” He says it like he’s sharing a secret, and Dream looks at him in disbelief, before he sighs in exasperation. It's a fond exasperation though, Hob’s learned to tell over the years.   

“Come. We are missing the goslings. We must catch them before they swim away,” Dream says, grabbing Hob by the hand and forcing him to put the camera down to rest around his neck. They walk over to where the geese and their recently hatched chicks are idling, and Dream approaches them slowly, kneeling and eventually sitting on a patch of dry grass closest to the pond’s edge. The geese eye him warily at first, but then Dream pulls out some seeds from his pocket, scattering them away from his person and sitting still as a statue while they slowly approach him.

Hob stays back away from where Dream is sitting; geese seem to hate him for some reason, but Dream has yet to meet a bird that doesn’t instantly take to him. It’s one of the things that Hob had noticed about the other man. 

They’d met a little over two years ago in this very park, and Hob had been enraptured by Dream feeding the pigeons. He’d only meant to snap one or two photos of the strange goth man, but then one of the pigeons had flown up onto Dream’s shoulder and cooed happily as the man fed it straight from his hand. Dream’s smile had been small, but absolutely radiant in that moment. Hob fell in love at first sight. 

Dream, decidedly, had not. He thought Hob to be a nuisance, had thrown a fit about having his photo taken without his knowledge or permission when Hob approached him. Hob had promised to not post any of the photos anywhere, and even offered to delete all of them if Dream saw them and really hated them that much. It would’ve killed Hob to delete such stunning photos, but he would’ve done it. 

Luckily for him, Dream had softened when Hob had shown him the photos, then demanded Hob print them for him for free.  Hob agreed, and then, because he had absolutely no self control around beautiful people, had asked Dream if he’d let Hob buy him dinner as an additional apology. Dream turned him down, and then also refused to give Hob his name when asked. Hob was hopelessly charmed.

After bringing the other man the agreed upon photos a week later, Hob promised not to photograph him if they ever ran into each other again. Dream looked at Hob like he didn’t believe the other man, but Hob kept his word, and for a time they maintained a pleasant, but distant acquaintance whenever they happened upon one another on days when the weather was nice.

It was Dream, surprisingly, who decided to approach Hob with a rather lucrative offer a few months later.

“I’m interested,” Dream had told him.

“In me?” Hob asked, surprised and flattered all at once. 

“In your photography experience,” Dream clarified, though his cheeks had pinked at Hob’s words. “My sibling is getting married in a few months and they have yet to find a photographer they like.”

“Well, I can give you my website so you can show them my portfolio—” 

“They’ve already seen it,” Dream interrupted him, blushing all the way from the tip of his nose down to his neck. “I—they wanted me to ask you if you’d shoot for their wedding. Personally.”

The rest, they say, is history. Hob hasn’t stopped photographing Dream ever since—with permission, of course.

In the present, Hob watches Dream’s patience and gentle tenacity pay off. The goslings eventually crowd around him and chirp happily, while the parental (Mother? Father? Hob can’t tell) goose angrily hisses at every other passing person who gets too close. They seemed to have claimed Dream as one of their own. 

Hob’s camera clicks away until he hears a low warning beep signifying that his memory card is full. 

In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have taken that 25 minute video of Dream feeding the crows the other day. But well, they’d all crowded around him and he’d looked so happy. The crows looked happy too, probably because Dream may as well look like them. It was cinematic art, and Hob would not be convinced otherwise. 

When Dream eventually runs out of seeds, he bows his head and holds out his empty hands, a universal sign for the end of their interaction. The geese seem to realize quickly he will no longer feed them, and so they wander off into the nearby lake, the babies eagerly and awkwardly following their parent on tiny legs still unused to traveling by land. Hob waits until they’re all safely in the water before he takes a seat next to Dream. 

“Have you finally tired of photographing my face?” Dream asks before resting his head on Hob’s shoulder. 

“Never,” Hob answers with a small laugh. “I ran out of memory.”

Dream lets out a dramatic sigh. “Finally.”

“Oh hush, you,” Hob replies, jostling Dream with his shoulder. The other man groans at having been disturbed, and Hob takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around Dream’s shoulder, before planting a kiss to his hair. 

“Show me?” Dream asks, reaching for Hob’s camera. “I want to see just what it is you find so fascinating about watching me feed waterfowl.”

Hob chuckles.

“Everything, love,” he answers honestly as he pulls up the photos for them to review on his camera’s tiny screen. “Absolutely everything.”

[cmncisspnandmore]

Bittersweet, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Talk of Pregnancy, Mentions of Past Abuse, Typical COD Violence, Fluff.

Summary: Coming home to find out Simon was leaving was hard, but this time is worse.

Beta Reader:

The door to your flat was usually easy to push open, but today when you shoved it open with your foot while you balanced two large brown bags of groceries, it stopped. Half way open, half closed. Turning sideways you manage to squeeze in between the doorway and the ajar door. Setting the bags down on the counter you turn towards the door that has now swung shut. 

On the floor sits a black military grade duffle bag, a velcro British flag on the front. Your stomach drops, settling on the floor. There was only one thing that bag being the door could mean. Your eyes water slightly as footsteps come down the hallway. Your eyes slide over to the figure standing in the hallway. Simon stands there, hands in the pockets of his black pants. The black t-shirt stretched tight over his muscled chest, his tactical vest hanging from one hand. The other clutching his skull balaclava, as his brown eyes flicker from you to the bags of groceries on the counter. 

“You’re leaving?” You ask, your voice soft as you fight the tidal pool of emotions bubbling in your chest. 

“Love, I know.. I know I just got back.. But you know how it is,” Simon sighs, coming into the room and putting his vest and mask on the kitchen table. He walks over to you, coming to stand in front of you. His hands run up your arms, to rest on your shoulders, as you take a shaky breath. 

“I, I know. But.. You just got back.”

Simon’s large hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tipping your face up so your eyes meet. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Simon whispers, his thumb stroking the side of your jaw. 

“I’m going to miss you so much..” you whisper, your voice cracking as your eyes close, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Oh, Love, don’t cry…” He whispers, hastily wiping away the tears from your cheeks with his fingers.

“I-I’m sorry,” You whimper as Simon pulls you close to him, pressing your face into his chest with a hand in your hair.  Your tears soak the fabric of his black shirt as he runs his free hand up and down your spine in soothing circles. His heart beat wildly in his chest under your cheek, like a caged bird. Simon's lips press to your head, a chorus of soft murmuring on his lips as he holds you. 

“Lovie, I know how hard it must be for you. For me to be gone for unknown periods of time, with no clue where I am, what I'm doing, if I'm okay. But I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to come back to you.” He pulls you away from his chest slightly, looking at your tear stained face. 

“I know, I just worry about you. Being out there literally fighting for your life sometimes,” you sniffle. “I mean how can I not? You’re out there risking your lives for everyone alone.”

“I’m not alone, I have my team, Soap, Gaz, Price. They’re there looking out for me. We have each other’s backs. And they know if something were to happen to me, to look out-”

“Don’t. Don't say something like that,” you cut him off, your hand coming to rest over his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him, “you will come back to me okay?” 

Simon's brown eyes soften as he nods, his lips pressing a kiss to your palm. You let your hand fall to your side, turning back to the groceries you begin pulling items from the bag. Placing them on the white countertop. Simon’s eyes follow your movements as you begin to put the various items away in the kitchen. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay?”

“I know,” you place a can of peas in the cabinet.

“I love you,” he whispers, coming to stand behind you. His hands sliding around your middle and hugging you tight against him. His body heat warms your back as his hands press into the soft flesh of your hips. A storm of emotion rages in your gut as you try to hold it together, be strong for him. For Simon. 

“I love you too,” you whisper, resting your hands on his. “You need to go, Price will be wondering why you’re late.”

You feel Simon’s sigh without hearing it, his lips pressing to the side of your head before he uses his hands to turn you in his arms. His fingers catch your chin as he tips your head up. His lips slanting to fit over yours in a slow kiss. Your hands trail slowly up his chest to fist in the soft fabric of his shirt. Twisting the material in your fingers you pull yourself impossibly closer to him. Simon's hand slides from your chin to the side of your neck. His fingers resting on your pulse point, applying a slight pressure to it. The small possessive move from Simon, sends a jolt of reassurance through you. 

Simon hated leaving just as much as you did. Of course he wouldn’t tell anyone that it tore his heart out, that it made him feel like he was leaving half of himself behind. Like he was ripping Simon out of himself and leaving him behind with you. Leaving only Ghost, the hardened soldier with him out on the missions. 

You gasp for breath as he pulls back, his face still close to yours. His warm minty breath fanning across your face. “Be good, I’ll see you soon.” 

‘Be safe,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his once more. With a heavy sigh Simon pulls away from you. Your body suddenly cold from the lack of body heat that radiates from Simon. You watch with sad eyes as he pulls on his tactical gear, and finally the skull balaclava. The face of the man you came to love disappearing behind the black fabric. 

Simon grabs his bag from behind the door, taking one last look at you as you stand in the middle of the kitchen. You looked so small standing in the kitchen with your arms wrapped around yourself. Like you were trying to hold back everything you were feeling. You were and that tore at him, he never wanted to upset you. But he had made a commitment a long time ago to the SAS, to Task Force 141. He couldn't just go back on those commitments, and you knew that. You had told him so, that you understood why he had to go save the world. 

You turn away from him as he reaches for the door, busying yourself with putting the groceries away. The soft sound of the latch clicking shut is what breaks you. The tears fall freely as you rest your hands on the counter. Leaning over slightly as you sob openly, hands gripping the white countertop like a lifeline. It never got easier.

It will never get easier.

Watching Simon walk out that door never knowing if it’ll be the last time.

Never knowing how he’ll come home.

If he’ll come home.

Your shoulders shake and you sink to the cool laminate tile floor of the kitchen, your head in your hands. The loneliness was the worst, the quiet that greeted you around every corner. The overwhelming silence; it was deafening. 

You aren't sure how much time has passed before you're able to pull yourself together enough to get up off the floor. Wiping the tear stains from your cheeks you stand, straightening out the rumpled fabric of your sweater and taking a steadying breath. Grabbing one of the paper bags and folding it up to put in the recycling, you stuff it down into the bin. As you grab the second bag from the counter you reach into it and pull out the last item you didn't want to pull out before Simon left. 

You pick up the box and turn it over in your hands, the bright pink box staring up at you like a flag. They should really make these boxes more discreet, not everyone was trying to shout this kind of stuff out to the world. 

You take what feels like your millionth deep breath of the afternoon and quickly shove the remaining bag down into the recycling. Your stomach turns as you glance at the pregnancy test box.

Did you want to know?

Should you just wait for Simon to get back?

Maybe it was all in your head anyways.

Yeah, it was all in your head. There was no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were careful, always taking the right precautions. You knew how he felt about kids, he didn't want them. He didn't want to end up like his father. No matter how many times you told him that he could never be his father. His father was a terrible man, who had no regard for a child's life. He didn't deserve to be a father with the way he treated Simon and Tommy. But Simon wouldn't hear it because he insisted that he on some level was also a monster. 

He didn't care that he killed people, that he slaughtered anyone who stood in his way of completing his missions. He’s told you of how he killed an entire compound of people after he found out his family was murdered. He would do it again, without a second thought. 

To you, Simon wasn't a stone cold killer. He was the man who brought you your favorite drink when you were having a bad day. The one bought you the expensive coffee maker you wanted even though he doesn't drink it. He’s the one who holds the door open for you, and makes you breakfast. The guy who walks on the outside of the sidewalk to protect you from cars. The same guy who picked you up off the bathroom floor when you were sick and nursed you back to health.

He was a little rough around the edges, and getting him to open up was the hardest thing you ever had to do. But he was still Simon, under all the trauma and pain, he was still a man who needed someone to love him. Someone to make him feel safe enough to take off his mask at the end of the day. 

The day he took off his mask fully in front of you for the first time you sobbed. You spent hours tracing the scars along his face as he laid his head in your lap. He was taken back when you called them beautiful. He insisted that they couldn't possibly be beautiful, they were flaws, reminders of what he did out there. To you the silvery scars along his body were proof of what he’s overcome. The strength he had, the fight to survive.

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts muddling your brain and head into the bathroom. You set the box down on the counter and chew your bottom lip. Anxiety swirling in your stomach the longer you stare at it. 

No.

Not today. 

If you took the test today you would be alone for however long dealing with whatever the results were. Aimlessly waiting for Simon to return home so you could discuss them, positive or negative. 

With one last glance at the box you leave the bathroom, closing the door rightly behind you. You stuff down the lonely feeling that crashes into you as you look around your shared bedroom. The bed was neatly made, just like always. That was all Simon. He claimed it was a habit from being in the service. You often poked fun at him for spending so much time each morning pulling the sheets taught, and smoothing the blankets like his life depended on it. You laughed the first time you walked in on him trying to figure out how to arrange the throw pillows you had added. 

Simon was grumbling about not seeing a point of having pillows you did even sleep with, while you argued that not everything had to be practical. He disagreed but let you keep them anyway after seeing the smile it brought to your face. He would do just about anything to see you smile, which is why it killed him to see you cry when he left. 

You flop onto the made bed, effectively ruining the pristine sheets and blankets. A heaviness settles over you as you lay there, your face buried in Simon’s pillow, inhaling the smell of his cologne. Tears burn the back of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You can't spend the next however long falling apart. So instead you, do your best to turn it off. Get through it one day at a time.

That's all you can do, take it one day after another.

Just like every other time.

~~~~ 3 weeks later~~~

“Love? Is that you?” Simon's voice calls as you push the door closed. Your heart skips a beat, as you drop your bag to the ground. You take a few steps into the apartment and stop at the doorway of the living room. 

Simon stands in the middle of the living room between the couch and the entertainment center. Tears cloud your vision as you stare at him, he was there, all of him. His brown eyes are tired, but he has a smile on his face. He always looked tired after coming back from a mission. Days of getting little to no sleep in the field. The physically grueling work of running after people, constantly being on guard. It took a toll on him, you knew that. But no matter how tired he was he would wait to see you before heading off to bed. Oftentimes he would convince you to join him, just wanting to feel you in his arms after not seeing you.

“You’re back…” Your voice cracks as you close the distance between you. You launch yourself into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist as you bury your face into his neck. Simon wraps his arms around your waist as he buries his face in your hair.

“I told you I would come back to you,” his voice is quiet as he moves over to the couch and sits, holding you on his lap. You knees on either side of his thighs, his hands coming to rest on your hips. Simon draws lazy circles on the skin there, as you just look at him for a moment. You take in the features of his face, his warm brown eyes. The way his nose is slightly crooked from being broken one too many times. The silvery scar that runs down the side of his jaw, the small patch of his eyebrow that is missing due to the scar running through it. 

“Can you explain something to me, sweetheart?” Simon asks, shifting you slightly so he can pull something out of his pocket. You furrow your brows as he takes a moment to pull the object from his pocket.

Your heart stutters in your chest as he pulls out the pink pregnancy test box from one of the pockets of his cargo pants. Your eyes search Simon’s face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking, but his face is a wall of impassive emotion. You chew on your bottom lip as you take a few deep breaths.

“I-I can explain.” 

“I would appreciate an explanation.”

“I know.. Look. I just… I have this feeling but I didn't want to say anything if I wasn’t sure. But then you got called away, and I couldn't bring myself to take one when you were gone. Because, I mean, what if it was positive? I couldn't let myself sit here for god knows how long harboring that information. So I didn't do it. And I know. I know how you feel about kids. I know you don't want them Simon. I get that. And that's okay. I mean it might be negative. So i don't even know why i'm so worr-” Simon presses his fingers to your lips silencing the onslaught of nervous rambling.

“I’m not upset with you,” Simon removes his fingers and grabs one of your hands, squeezing it lightly. “Whatever it says we’ll figure it out. Together okay?” 

You give him a small nod, looking down at your hands for a moment before he turns your hand over and places the box in your hand.Your eyes flicker up to his, and he gives you a small smile. “Now?” You whisper.

“It’s better to know now, while we have options,” he whispers, running his hand up and down your arms. After a moment you let out a breath and slid off of his lap, slowly walking towards the bathroom. You glance over your shoulder at Simon as he sits on the couch, legs slightly spread, one arm draped over the back. 

Simon gives you another small smile, as you head into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly take the test according to the instructions. After you wash your hands you place it on the bathroom counter and open the door. Simon is still sitting on the couch, but his head is back, his eyes closed. 

You can see just how exhausted he is from the mission. The dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced, the tension in his shoulders more evident. He lifts his head when you take a step towards him. 

“How long until we know?” He asks, his voice gravelly with sleep.

“Three..” You whisper, plopping down onto the couch next to him. His arm wraps around your shoulder as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“Whatever happens, I’m not going to take off on you okay?” Simon says softly, his fingers rubbing the fabric of your sweater. 

“Simon.. I-i don't think I can get rid of a baby… The thought of getting rid of a part of you… especially a part of you that isn't going into war zones all the time. I cant… I can't.” Your eyes fill with tears. 

Simon shifts and his finger catches your chin, turning your face towards him. His dark eyes are serious, as he looks at you. “Sweetheart, I mean it. Whatever happens we’ll get through it. I won't make you do something you don’t want to do. Okay? If the test is positive, we’ll go over our options.. And if it's not we can talk about it, alright Lovie?” 

You smile, “Okay,” you whisper and press your lips against his softly. Simon’s hand slides to the back of your head as he kisses you a few more times. 

The sound of the alarm on your phone going off pulls you both from the moment, and Simon pulls you up by your hand. “Ready?”

“Ready.” 

You both head into the bathroom, Simon gives you one last look before he picks up the small plastic stick in his hands. He turns it over and stares at it for a moment. Anxiety swirls in your stomach as he looks at, and then he turns it towards you. One solid pink line stares back at you. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It rushes from your lungs as relief, but your eyes water as you stare at the negative test.

Negative.

You should be relieved. 

You weren’t ready to have a kid.

Were you?

“You okay?” Simon whispers, his fingers brushing across your cheek, catching the tears that are falling.

“I-I think so? I mean, i don't know,” you whisper as Simon drops the test in the trash and leans down lifting you into his arms. He carries you into your bedroom and sets you down on the bed, then settles in next to you. His arms pull you firmly against his side, as he leans his head on yours.

“What are you feeling? Talk to me.”

“I guess, relief… but also I'm kinda sad.. I think?”

Simon is quiet for a moment, his hand stroking your hair and neck. You can practically hear the gears in his head turning. “I understand. I was a little disappointed too.” He admits, causing you to look up at him. 

“You were disappointed?” You whisper, and Simon nods slightly.

“I know that I keep telling you how I don't want kids because of my dad. Because of the way he was with me and Tommy… and because of what happened I'm afraid that I'll be anything like him. That i’d ruin whatever precious child you could give me. But I also know that you are not my mom. You would never stand by and let that happen.” He brushes your hair behind your ear.

“So the thought of being like my dad scares the crap outta me, but I can't lie and say that the thought of coming home to you, a little boy or girl, doesn't excite me on some level. I just want you to be happy. And if you want children, I'd happily give them to you. I would do anything to make you smile. I’d give you a whole army of them if that's what you wanted.” 

“Do you mean that?” You look up at him, and Simon smiles.

“Of course I mean that.”

“I..I don't think I want them right now.. But I do want them with you eventually.” You whisper, and Simon leans in kissing you. His hands cupping the sides of your face.

“Then that's what you’ll get. Whenever you’re ready. “

You rest your hands on the side of his face, “but until then… how about until then we get some practice in…” you whisper, and pull Simon in for a kiss. Simon smiles into the kiss, before he slides you under him. Holding himself up off you as he nips at your lips. 

“I think practicing is a good idea,”

[callmeoncette]

Southern Hospitality

Hobie Brown x black!fem!reader

You’re the spider-woman of your universe and you happen to reside in the southern states. Let’s see how your man, and your friends, react to your southern hospitality when you invite them over for dinner

There’s no warnings I can think of rn but if you think I need to add some let me know pls! Also reader is based on my spidersona ngl but it’s not too descriptive other than her being black, southern, and her hairstyle.

You hummed softly along with the H.E.R playing as you washed greens in your sink. After finishing a mission that took a week you decided that the gang deserved a nice meal. Meaning that in a few you’d have Miles, Pavitr, Gwen, and Hobie were going to be in your home for the first time. Time to break out the good incense and candles.

You were happy to see all of them but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t looking forward to see Hobie the most. The Brit managed to catch and keep your attention. He was your man officially or unofficially!

The two of you clashed beautifully. He was all long limbs and spikey accessories with dark colors while you were splashes of bright colors and fur. He was the calm cool too your bubbly goofy self. Spider-Punk Man and Jumpin-Spyda. Two peas in a pod.

As you continued around the kitchen you suddenly felt an all too familiar tingle as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You heard the portal before you saw it. Out stepped Gwen dressed casually and Hobie.

Gwen took in a deep breath before sighing in delight, “[name] it smells amazing in here!” The girl said scurrying into kitchen. You smiled and turned to her as you wiped your hands on a hand towel, “Aw thank y-AHT!” You quickly popped the spider teen’s hand when you caught her peeking in the pot on the stove. She pouted and snatched her hand back with a small ‘hey!’. Hobie snorted a bit and walked over to you. He peered at you with low eyes, “does smell good in ‘ere though. My lil peng ting cookin’ for me?” His arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him while you giggled. You reached a hand up to cup his face kiss as he leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips.

The cute moment was ruined by Gwen gagging dramatically right as another Portal opened. Pavitr hopped out excitedly looking around. “Wooow [name]! Your place is so nice!” The cheery young man said walking over. “You just missed it. They were being gross and mushy.” Gwen told him making him frown, “awww I missed my favorite not-couple-couple doing cute things…”. You laughed and gently lead all three of them to your living room, “okay out. Love y’all, but you crowding my kitchen.”

For the next several minutes you finished up cooking while they talked to you from the couch. It mostly consisted of them talking about the mission, Hobie complaining about Miguel, and Pav asking to see your puppy to which you kept telling him he could play with him after eating. Just as you finished with the last thing and turned off the stove your heard the ripping that comes with a portal.

Miles jumped out and looked around, “Aw man! I’m last again?!” The youngest of group groaned.

“When aren’t you?”

“Sounds bout right lil bro.”

“Just the usual, bruv.”

“It’s your thing, honestly!”

He groaned even louder throwing his head back making everyone laugh.

“Okay everyone go wash y’a nasty ass hands an’ then we can eat!” You say clapping your hands together with a big smile excited for everyone to try your food. You washed your hands before grabbing plates while everyone else did. As they passed you handed out a plate till you got to the tall dark skin.

You waved him off, “I’ll make yours, baby. Go sit down.” Pav awed at the interaction, Gwen gagged again, and Miles just moved to put food on his plate. Hobie moved hovering over you as you piled good onto his plate, “ain’t gotta do tha’ love.” He mumbled. You paused and looked up at him through your thick lashes, “but I want to. That cool?”

Was it? Hobie was a very independent individual. Didn’t like bothering others plus why ask someone to do something that he could just do for himself? But as he looked at you with your glossed lips that shined just right in your kitchen lighting and your bits of hair that fell in your face perfectly from the wig he watched you install on FaceTime the other he realized he’d like to depend on you. He’d like to ask you to help him sort his CD’s and vinyls, help him with his hair even. Hobie that existed before meeting you would laugh and call current Hobie love-sick.

“Well?” Your voice cut through his thoughts.

He blinked, “uhhh, yeah. Yeah that’s fine, sweetheart.” He said keeping up his cool persona.

You nodded, “okay cool. You can go sit I’ll bring it to you.” Nonchalant as you continue with your task. He actually listens without a fuss and sits at the table.

The kids sat as well leaving you a seat next to Hobie and watch as you bring his food before getting your own.

“Oh my parents!” Pavitr cried out making Miles snorted and choke a bit on food.

“Hey I thought I was your favorite! How come Hobie gets his brought to him?” Gwen asked trying her best to pull a hurt face.

You sit down with your own food and shrug, “southern hospitality? Plus best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!”

——————————

Shoutout to princess and the frog cuz I had the dream this is based on while I fell asleep watching it!

[veritas-scribblings]

welcome - @jegulus-microfic - words: 843

[Exists within the same universe as ‘safe’ and ‘more’]

It’s raining, night-time, when Regulus shows up at the Potter home. A full school term ago, Sirius had been the one standing in his place and since then, their relationship has been broken. Not that they had ever really seen eye-to-eye to begin with, but as far as James knows, Sirius and Regulus have barely spoken. James has been the not-quite-mediator. The neutral middle space. Switzerland. Not passing messages like an owl, but rather, checking in with both boys to ensure their conflict and hadn’t mutated into something worse.

But James has always been Switzerland.

So when Regulus shows up on the Potter’s doorstep, everyone is caught off guard. He has a small bag thrown over his shoulder and the hood of his cape ominously pulled up, giving the impression of a midnight vigilante. It’s James who answers the door and finds Regulus. Wet. Blank-faced. His black curls water-logged and plastered to his forehead like he’s forgotten that Umbrella Charms exist. Sirius stands on the staircase to the left of the entrance hall some distance behind James just staring, speechless. 

‘Regulus,’ James breathes. 

Regulus’s nose is pink from the cold. His cheeks are pink. He has his scarf coiled around his neck, thick and yellow and fluffy. Regulus places his bag by the open front door and simply invites himself inside, barely acknowledging Sirius’s presence.

‘It’s cold,’ he informs them. ‘I’d like a cup of tea.’ He says this firmly, pulling his gloves off and lowering the hood of his robe. Like he is a guest in their home, one who has been invited over, and they are the ones who have dropped the quaffle on basic tenets of hospitality.

Sirius charges down the stairs and stops in front of Regulus. ‘Do mother and father know you’re here?’ he demands. ‘Did they send you after me or something?’

Sirius doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, James knows. He’s wanted Regulus here, was conflicted for months about leaving without telling Regulus, had feared the reaction of their parents. It had kept Sirius up many nights trapped in a tug-of-war between knowing he had to leave and feeling some sort of retrospective responsibility for Regulus now that he was out of Grimmauld Place. 

Regulus shrugs. ‘Possibly, I wouldn’t know,’ he says in a low voice. He tucks the gloves under his arm. ‘So, tea?’

James grins. ‘Tea,’ he repeats, delighted. ‘Come on, mum’s in the kitchen, there’s some chai. She makes it when it’s raining.’ He leads Regulus down the hall and into the kitchen, which smells like roast (it was his father’s turn to cook). 

James knows Regulus loves Yorkshire pudding, knows that Regulus loves crispy roast potatoes slathered in gravy. He knows Regulus hates peas, that Regulus hates cheese sauce, loves crispy Brussel sprouts fried with bacon and parsnip mash.

Euphemia and Fleamont Potter greet Regulus warmly when Regulus sits down at the bench in the kitchen. They’re used this now—boys taking up residence in the Potter Home for Runaways—and have long stopped questioning it since Marlene ‘ran away’ when she was seven. 

James potters around, heats the chai on the stove, grabs a plate to fetch Regulus dinner because the Potters feed people as a form of love language. Sirius floats by the door. He’s trying to determine whether Regulus is staying or whether Regulus has an ulterior motive. Because Sirius is wary of being hurt; it’s a trait that both brothers possess. 

‘You can have the bedroom down the hall from me and Sirius,’ James says. He looks over to his mother for confirmation and she nods. Unlike when Marlene had ‘run away’, she won’t be contacting home. She understands. 

‘Great!’ James chirps. ‘Mum’ll put linens in the room. And sweets on the pillows or something.’ He places the plate and mug of chai in front of Regulus and grins. ‘You know, Dad keeps a potions lab. It’s a small one, but it’s got almost everything. He could show you. Dad, Regulus is a genius at potions, you know.’ At Regulus’s look of scepticism, he adds, ‘Crouch says you could brew an explosive to blow up the school if you wanted to.’

Regulus scoffs, but doesn’t say anything. He looks around and seems to note that Sirius is gone. Pushing the food around his plate, he says, ‘I’m sorry for putting you out,’ because he was evidently raised to have manners. 

‘Nonsense,’ Euphemia says. She crosses the room and places a reassuring hand on Regulus’s shoulder, and then immediately notes how tense Regulus becomes at this and withdraws her hand. ‘We’re glad you’re here. And Sirius is too. Just…give him time.’

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ James says, and he means this from the bottom of his heart. He does. He really does. 

Regulus nods. It’s a placating nod. He still isn’t sure. But that’s okay, James decides, because he’ll do everything he can to make sure Regulus believes it.

[toxicbrothel]

I often think about this scene 😵‍💫

Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, "What if I told ya to suck his dick?

"No!"

"You'd say no to me?"

"I'd ask if I really have to."

I'm sure it will never happen but what if Sweet pea dreams about it👀

500 words, dark!Joel x you x dark!Carter

Kate, you menace 😫🫶 Thank you for enabling me. I think about this too. Source of quote. Technically, it's a bit of a nightmare. CW dark

You don't wanna think about Carter that way, but you can't help it after Joel mused about you sucking his dick. It was a test, just a test, but he put the image in your mind and it's what you're thinking of when you drift off to sleep. . .

😴💤💤 You're sitting in Joel's lap, facing Carter across the breakfast table. You're in a dress with no panties, impaled on Joel's cock. He’s slowly moving you with his massive hands on your hips. “mm,” he sighs as you lean back. He nibbles at your neck.

Carter quietly sips his coffee. There's something different about Carter. Not just his black eye. Joel pulls you back hard, nudging your cervix and you gasp. You brace your hands on the table. Carter winks at you.

Joel brings his lips to your ear. “Whatcha think, sweet pea?” His hips lift you. “Wanna suck his dick?”

Your face catches fire and your heart races. “No,” you claim.

Carter puts down his coffee, chuckles, and stands up, revealing a massive bulge in his sweatpants. He palms himself as he comes around the table, and your walls twitch around Joel at the sight.

“Don't lie to me, baby,” Joel murmurs. He grabs your tits and pulls you back against him.

Carter squeezes between you and the table. He pulls down his waistband. You're full of Joel’s cock, staring at Carter's gorgeous length as Joel’s hips move under you.

“Just a little kiss,” Carter whispers. “If ya want,” he winks.

You shake your head no but your walls squeeze around Joel’s cock again.

“Don't say no to him,” Joel cautions you. “You wanna, don't ya?”

It's a trap with no way out.

Precum is beading at Carter’s tip until he swipes it away with his thumb. He brings his thumb to your lips and you kiss the salty liquid off.

“Good girl,” Joel whispers. “Just a lil kiss that's all.”

Joel’s chest nudges you forward. Carter sits on the table and spreads his knees. His balls are big, too. His pubic hair is soft looking. Just a tad redder than his scruff. Joel scoots the chair forward and you moan at the jolt of his cock.

“It's ok,” Carter whispers.

You brace your hands on his thighs and he holds his cock for you. Another pearl of precum is forming. Before he can wipe it away, you lean forward and kiss it off. Your lips gently seal around the top half of his tip and your tongue darts out against the slit.

Carter groans.

Joel pulls you back by the hair and your heart skips a beat. He holds you against his chest with one arm while he reaches into the waistband of his pj pants and pulls out a pistol. Carter is sitting calmly with his cock in his hand like he knew it was gonna happen. “Sorry, sweet pea,” Carter mutters apologetically. Joel cocks the hammer, and you wake up.

[funnyjb]

Practice day

The morning started like every other morning. You wrapped in your husband’s arms. It was mid October in Cincinnati. The team is having practice today from 10am-3pm. You have a doctor’s appointment today to check up on baby burrow #3. You guys don’t know the gender until another 2 weeks! Joe and you couldn’t be more excited!

Since you have an appointment and your parents aren’t in town or Joe’s, Joey decided to take the kids to practice today. Some of the players have been taking their kids to practice because it’s take your kids to work week, and you would think it’s take your kid to work day but I guess not! Emerson and Max are like two peas in a pod. Where ever the other one goes the other always follows. So when it’s take your kids to work week at practice you know they will both be there.

“Good morning, baby.”- Joe

“Good morning, Joey.”- you

Joe kissed your forehead and got up.

“I’m going to wake the boys up.”- Joe

He then opened the door and walked down the hallway to the boys bedroom.

You decided to get up to. It was cold today so once your feet hit that floor it felt like walking on ice almost. You did your normal routine. Skincare, brush teeth, and pick out an outfit. Your outfit today consisted of a white long sleeve shirt and a black onesie paired with your sneakers. Your hair was already curled from work yesterday so you didn’t really have to do anything to it, so you decided to head downstairs and make breakfast.

Once you got downstairs Joe and the boys were already watching tv.

“Hi!”- you

You go over to the couch we’re Joe and the boys were snuggling. You kiss all of your boys good morning.

“Hi mama!”- max

“Hi Maxie!”- you

After you say good morning to them you go over to the kitchen to make breakfast.

“Here, babe, let me help you!”- Joe

He sprinted off the couch to go to you

Joe always likes to cook with you. He isn’t a very good cook so he likes to learn from you, but he also just goes to admire you and be around you.

“Okay! Can you start by getting the eggs and heating up the pan for me, please?”- you

“Of course, baby.”- Joe

————————————————————————

After breakfast it was time for the boys to head out and for you to head to the doctors.

“Okay, boys! It’s 10:30, let’s go!”- You

“Otay, mama.”- Emerson

“Thanks em. Let’s get your shoes on!”- you

You put down Emerson on the small bench at the front door to put his shoes on and bend down.

“Hey, hey, I got it babe.”- Joe

“It’s ok, Joe.”- you

“I got it y/n. Don’t want you hurting yourself.”- joe smiles

“Thank you.”- you smile back

He helps you get up and starts to tie Emerson’s shoe.

“Ok, max! You ready to play ball with daddy?!”- you

“Yessss!”- max

You laugh

“Ok, we are ready.”- Joe

“Let’s go!”- you

You all step outside and close the door behind you.

“Boys, say bye to mommy.”- joe

“Bye!”- Emerson and Max

They run up to you and give you a big hug.

“Bye baby’s! I love you and I will see you soon!”- you give them a kiss

Soon after they run off to Joes car. Joe then comes up to you with a big smile.

“I love you, have fun with them.”- you smile

“I love you too, and good luck today. I can’t wait to hear all about you and the baby.”- Joe

“I will let you know! And good luck today at practice 9!”- you

“Thanks, baby.”- Joe

He kisses you, then looks into your eyes, then kisses you again. You start laughing.

“Joe- you got- to go.”- you laugh

“One more!”- Joe

He kisses you one last time and then is off to his car and drives out.

————————————————————————-

“Good hustle, good hustle.”- Zach

The team was running some practice runs and warm up’s before some of them got to be with their children.

The boys were sitting on the bench with some other kids and bengals staff looking after them.

“Ok, you guys may go be with your kids. Have fun!”- Zach

Joe the comes running up to the boys.

“Hey guys!”- joe

“Daddy!”- Emerson and Max

They give Joe a big hug.

Joe then takes a big sip of water and gets a towel to wipe some sweat off.

“Ready to play some ball?”- Joe

“Yeah!”- Emerson and Max

The boys run off to an open patch on the practice field with Joe walking behind watching. Joe felt so happy knowing his boys are having fun.

After Joe made the boys do some easy stretches they got to work.

“Set, Hut!”- Joe

Max took off as Emerson was defending.

Joe threw the ball not to far so the boys could get it. Max caught the ball! He ran to the end of the cone which meant the end zone.

“Yeah max!” - Joe

He ran over to max to give him a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Maxie!”- Joe

“Thanks dada!”- Max

Joe then noticed Emerson looking a little down. He got up and went over to his boy.

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong?- Joe

He bent down to his level

“I really wanted to get da ball!”- Emerson said angry

“I know bud, I’m sorry. How about you play receiver this time and max plays defense? Does that sound ok?”- Joe

“Yess!”- Emerson

“Good! You did great out there too! I’m so proud of you!”- Joe

“Thanks dada!”- Emerson

Emerson then took off to get in formation.

The boys had so much fun! They played for an hour until you came to see them!

You stepped onto the practice fields to see the boys play with Joe. You saw them in a corner playing with some cameras and bengals staff and players watching. You wondered if Joe cared that there were cameras but if he was with his kids he doesn’t care about anything. He only cares about his kids.

As you got closer you noticed Sam.

“Hey, sam!”- you

“Hey, y/n! Joe are you?”- Sam

He gives you a side hug

“I’m good! Just here to watch the boys!”- you

“They are having fun out there, I could tell Joe is excited to have them.”- Sam

“Yeah, he couldn’t wait to bring them.”- you

After talking to Sam for a bit a voice Interrupted you.

“MOMMY!” - Emerson

He came up running to hug you. You picked him up and gave him a kiss.

“Hey, buddy! Are you having fun?”- you

“Yesss!”- Emerson

“Good.”- you smile

“MAMA”- Max

He comes up and hugs your leg. You give him a kiss on the head.

“Hey, max! Are you also having fun with daddy?”- you

“Yess! He said to tell you that you look very pretty today.”- Max

Before you could say anything Joe came walking up to you.

“He’s not wrong!”- joe smirks

You laugh

“Thank you, baby.”- you

You give him a hug and he takes Emerson off your arms and puts him down.

“Having fun?”- you

“Lots!”- Joe

“Good.”- you

“Hey, how was the appointment?”- Joe

“It was good.”- you

Joe noticed a change in your demeanor.

“What’s wrong?”- Joe

“Nothing. We will talk about it later. I don’t want to talk about it here.”- you

“Oh, ok, but are you ok?”- Joe

“Yeah..I’m good.”- you give a small smile

“Ok, how about we head out I think they are getting tired”- Joe

“Ok.”- you

You say your goodbyes to the team and head out with your boys.

————————————————————————

(At home)

“The boys are asleep.”- you

You came over to Joe in the kitchen.

“Good.”- Joe

There was a moment of silence. You could tell Joe wanted to say something.

“So, do you think we can talk about what made you lose that beautiful smile of yours when I asked you about the appointment earlier?”- Joe

“Uh, sure..”- you

“So, what’s wrong?”- Joe

“The doctors just said that I just have to be careful and I might have to go on bed rest a little earlier. I was just worried, but everything is ok.”- You

“Oh, but why a little earlier?”- Joe

“Remember when I had the surgery right after the twins?”- you

“Yeah.”- Joe

“Well, they said that it could cause some problems if I get pregnant again so they told be to me careful.”- you

“Oh, ok, but whatever happens I’m here. And I will make sure that everything will be ok.”- joe

He pulls you in for a hug.

“I love you and our baby.”- Joe

“Well baby girl and I love you too.”- you smile

“Wait…it’s a girl? We are having a girl?!”- Joe

“Yeah, We are having a girl.”- you

He picks you up and spins you around.

“I know we wanted to wait but they told me today when they were explaining stuff to me.”- you

“Oh my god, y/n! We are having a girl.”- joe

You nod your head.

He pulls you in for another hug.

“I can’t wait for her to come to practice.”- Joe

“I can’t wait either.”- you smile

You the pull Joe in for a kiss

————————————————————————-

Request idea: @elly-grace

Thx for the idea!🩷

[offbrandhandymanny]

Cherry's Parents

Here's pt 3 to the CherryCola teen pregnancy AU, it's a long one so be prepared

Cherry awoke to her parents arguing in the kitchen

Cherry’s mom is hysterically crying at the table and her dad is screaming (nothing new)

They see her and ask her why the doctor's office is calling about Cherry’s pregnancy and her next steps

He’s all up in her face screaming at her about who the father is, what this is gonna do to their reputation and how stupid she is to get knocked up

Cherry through her tears, tells him that it's Sodapop Curtis and he just loses it

He throws chairs, glass, everything he can get his hands on on the ground, it hits Cherry in the leg

Her dad walks out and slams the door shut

Cherry’s mom is hysterically crying and Cherry walks over to her, her mom explains that all she wants is for Cherry to be happy and rich, and now she has no chance of that. Her mom tells her to get an abortion even though they are very against abortions

Cherry is so offended and just screams at her mom saying no she's keeping this baby

Couple hours go by and Cherry is just sitting in the kitchen after cleaning up all the glass on the ground

Cherry’s dad shows back to the house and immediately grabs Cherry by the arm (he grabs her so hard her arm turns red) and stuffs her in the car

Cherry’s so confused and scared because her dad isn't saying anything and is just driving crazily through the streets

She begs her dad to tell her where their going but no words come out of his mouth

30 minutes of driving and Cherry sees where their going, the abortion clinic

Cherry is furious and just begins screaming at her dad as he attempts to pull her out of the car

She explains that she's keeping the baby no matter what him or her mom say

Cherry’s dad is so furious he slaps Cherry (he hits her so hard, her face is bruised)

Cherry is shocked, she knew her dad was verbally abusive but never physically

She just sits there in shock as he furiously walks off

Cherry jumps out of the car and runs as fast as she can away from her dad

Luckily the abortion clinic was close enough to the east side that she can walk over to the Curtis house 

Cherry shows up to the Curtis door (her face is bright red from the tears and black and blue from the bruise)

Darrel opens the door seeing Cherry, he's very confused and very concerned. Poor girl immediately breaks down (with whatever tears she's got left) in front of Darrel who is so confused but obviously lets her in and comforts her

He grabs her frozen peas for her face and a whole box of tissues 

He holds the bag of peas to Cherry’s face as he tries to figure out what's wrong and why she's here

Soda hears the commotion and comes out of his room to Cherry bawling her eyes out on the couch with Darrel holding frozen peas to her face

He immediately looks so concerned and runs over to her asking Darrel what the hell happened to her

He kneels in front of Cherry who cant get any words out and Darrel is still so fucking confused (he didn’t even know Soda knew Cherry)

Darrel keeps asking Cherry what’s wrong but since Cherry can't get any words out, Soda’s the one who ultimately tells Darrel Cherry’s pregnant

Darrel is just sitting there looking at him like huh?

Cherry is finally able to get some sort of words out and tells Soda what her dad did to her and how he tried to get an abortion for her

Soda is so pissed off, he’s ready to beat her dad for what he did to her but she tells him he just wants him here with her

Soda puts her in his room (cause Pony’s with Johnny) and lets her sleep

pt 4 is gonna be the argument between Darry and Soda

[gavi3000]

the wii incident | pablo gavi

You shouldn’t have expected anything else from him honestly, with him being as competitive as he is. You should’ve known it would’ve ended with something along the lines of this: Pablo smiling sheepishly at you from where he stands at the top of your guys’ stairs with a brand new shiner decorating his left eye.

You immediately set your book down and get up from your designated reading chair, walking towards Pablo. “What happened?” You stop before him with an impatient look upon your face and raise your hand to carefully brush his bangs out of his eyes to get a closer look at the bruise.

“So…” he begins but then stops suddenly and meets your eyes guiltily. Nothing good can come from a shifty-eyed Pablo.

“So…?” You press, grabbing his hand and leading him gently to the kitchen, to which he complies like a puppy.

“We thought Wii boxing would be fun, but I didn’t put the strap on and I accidentally socked myself in the eye...” he explains, laughing quietly as you sit him down at your kitchen island.

You nod your head and fish out a pack of frozen peas from the freezer for him. “Only you would find a way to do that.”

“Babe, it’s not my fault, I swear! Pedri didn’t wear his either.” Pablo defends himself, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“He didn’t end up with a black eye though, did he?” You reply quickly, rolling your eyes playfully and handing him the frozen pack of peas.

All he can do is nod and mumble a weak, “you’re right,” and you chuckle, playing with the hem of his shirt; your fingers often finding themselves dancing on his stomach. It felt refreshing to be with him like this; so close to him. You found yourself constantly missing him, no matter how close he was. And almost as if he can read your mind— which sometimes you swear he can— he speaks up.

“I missed you today.”

You never expect him to say things like this so out of the blue, but when he does, you always make sure to bask in it. You were glad the missing each other was mutual, because it was almost ridiculous how much you missed the smallest things. The way he smelled, the way his eyes were always on yours before yours were on his, how it felt to run your hands over his own and more. The two of you hadn’t even been apart at all, or in a weird phase or anything, you just missed him. Your Pablo.

You cuddle into him farther, cozying up between his legs and smile up at him. “I missed you too.”

He kisses the top of your head sweetly and you hum, “so did you just leave Pedri down there?”

At that, Pablo starts laughing. He nods, “he wanted to keep playing.”

“‘Course he did. Hope he learned from your mistakes and put that damn strap on.”

[rjmartin11]

Hide and Go Seek One Shot

Pairing: Elvis & female!reader

Summary: Elvis had been away from you for far too long, and you want to play with him in more ways than one.

Word Count: ???

Warnings: Material is not suitable for under 18 years of age. Viewer discretion is advised!

Author's Notes: Hello, world. RJ here. I'm just passing through with a one-shot that's been on the shelves of my mind for a while. I'm retired from writing, but I wanted y'all to have this. Something dirty. Enjoy.

・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・

It's been a full thirty-five days since Elvis left on his cross-country tour, and you missed him deeply. Even though he calls every few days to let you know where he is and how the shows are going, you need him around. His physical presence keeps you humble.

Although you have your hands full with a one year old baby boy. You want his daddy around to play with both of you. You feel like Elvis would have missed his first steps if he didn't walk in through the door that very moment.

He called you last night stating that he'd be home today. You haven't truly slept since the call. It only mattered that baby boy had rest, so he could play with daddy. You made sure he was fed and bathed.

You started cooking immediately for your weary traveler and his band of soldiers. All of Elvis' favorite dishes were to be made with exceptions. Fried chicken, barbecue chicken on the grill, potato salad, mustard greens, mashed potatoes with Smoky Mountain gravy, black-eyed peas, macaroni and cheese, cream onion casserole, and cornbread. For dessert, banana pudding, sweet potato pie, and Ms. Mary's chocolate cake.

You scrambled all over the kitchen with Ms. Mary and Ms. Nancy came in to help with the load. You worked a full six hours in preparation for your love to come home to a great meal. You knew the meals on the road consisted of junk food, so this had to be special.

As you started to slow down a bit, Ms. Nancy asked you to go upstairs and rest. You didn't want to fall asleep on Elvis, so you did as asked and slept for a few hours.

"Mama???" You hear his little voice from down the hall and open your eyes. "Mama???"

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and head to his room. You creep slow around the corner as you hear him continue to call your name. You peek your head in the door, and he starts to giggle. Your son has his daddy's contagious gift of laughter.

"Is that my little Garon?" You ask.

"Mama!" He says with excitement in his voice.

"Hi, Mama's baby boy. Mama's handsome baby boy," you say, taking him out of his crib.

You get him ready for the day, and you both head downstairs. The ladies have taken care of dinner just as promised. You hand Garon off to his Great Aunt Delta and Great-Grandma Dodger so you can finish getting dressed for Elvis' arrival. You take a quick shower and get your hair and makeup ready for him. You want to look irresistible for your love.

As you put the final touches on mascara, you hear a big commotion downstairs.

"Daddy's home," you say to yourself, finishing up.

You run out of the room and to the staircase just in time to see Elvis look up at you. His smile lights up the room, and your glows.

"Hello, Mrs. Presley," he says, greeting with Garon in his arm.

"Hello, my husband," you reply, walking down the stairs.

He walks up to you with his free arm open to you. You embrace him gently as your son is in his other arm. He kisses your head and whispers he missed you. You tell him how much you miss him and how glad he's home.

Everybody crowded into the kitchen to get a plate. You made Elvis' and Garon's plates first, and then everyone piled in for their plate. Ms. Nancy made you a plate, so you sit and eat.

For the next thirty to forty-five minutes, the house was alive with laughter and conversation. Everyone talking about the tour and their adventures on the road.

"All in all," Elvis starts, "it was an amazing trip. This tour was great. Now, I'm just grateful to rest for the next three months."

"Rest? My husband wants to rest?" You ask.

"Yes," he answered. "Traveling around the country is fun, but I wanna rest."

"I guess you can wait on that surprise I have for you," you whisper in his ear.

"Surprise??? Baby, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to," you say, kissing his cheek. "Get rid of the boys and come find me upstairs."

You pick up Garon and walk toward the door. You bid everyone good night. Your sister drops by and takes Garon home with her, so you and Elvis can have Graceland all to yourselves.

You go upstairs and wait for him on the bed. You waited six months, so another fifteen to thirty minutes wouldn't hurt.

You peek out the window as everyone leaves out the front door, piling into their cars. Elvis tells everyone goodnight and thanks them for everything. He turns and looks up at the window. He sees you staring back at him and smiles the notorious smile of his. You bite your lip and close the curtain.

Seconds later, he's up in the room looking at you sitting on the bed.

"My pretty little Satnin. How I've missed you," he whispers as he crawls on top of you.

"I missed you, E," you whisper back.

He starts passionately kissing. You start slipping your fingers in his hair as he does so, kissing him back. You've longed for this moment for six, dreaded long months.

You roll yourself on top of him and push yourself off of him. You stand in front of him and begin to undress. Elvis watches in awe of you. As you slip out of your panties, cock begins to tent in his pants.

"You missed me, E?" You ask.

"Can't you tell?" He asks back.

"Then why are your clothes still on?"

Without another thought, Elvis starts to unbutton his shirt and undo his belt. Pulling his pants down off of his hips, disposing them to the floor. His cock sits up long and hard before you. All the things you want to do his penis. All the things you've longed to do to his penis.

You bow in front of Elvis. Not allowing him to wait another moment to start to suck him off at the head of his cock. His head falls back, and he moans your name. You only do this for a few seconds until you get off of your knees. You gently climb on top of him until you both are face to face, kissing one another. Elvis rubs your back. Followed by your ass. Then, he slides his fingers in between your legs to your vaginal lips, gently stroking your clitorus. You indulge in the feeling a moment.

Then Elvis pumps his cock a few times, attempting to penatrate you. You stop him and whisper,

"I wanna play a game."

"What?" Elvis asks confused.

You crawl off of him, standing before him and repeat,

"I. Wanna. Play. A. Game."

Elvis, reluctant to your quips, answers you as he gently strokes the throbbing in his dick.

"What kind of a game, Y/N?"

"Hide and Go Seek. In the house. Naked."

Elvis, wide eye, pops his head up to look at you.

"A... w-what? Hide and seek in the house naked?" He answers.

You nod your head enthusiastically. The smile never leaves your face. You squeeze your legs at the thought of him catching you. It makes you wet.

"Y/N, baby. Garon? What if he needs us?"

"He's with his aunt. He'll be with her for the rest of the night."

"Mary? Nancy?"

"I gave them the night off. They helped me cook your welcome home dinner. They earned it."

"Dodger? Aunt Delta?"

"E, everyone is gone. Graceland is all ours for the evening. Surprise."

Elvis smirks to you with that infamous smirk that makes your heart gallop, your knees quiver, and pussy drips. Elvis sits up on the bed, looking at you like he could eat you alive.

"You have twenty seconds to hide before I stuff my dick so far up your pussy they hear you scream on Beale Street," Elvis says.

"That's only if you can catch me," you laugh, running out the door and down the stairs.

"One!" Elvis shouts, standing from the bed.

"Two! Three!" He continues to shout.

Elvis gets quiet as he starts searching the house for you. He walks downstairs, allowing the soft carpet to massage his bare feet. He quietly looks in the living room, and he even takes the extra steps to see if you're hiding in the music room. He'd love to fuck you on top of the piano.

He walks into the dining area and checks under the table. He makes way into the kitchen, silently searching for you. He rubs the ache in his dick, begging for a release only you can prove.

"Y/N?" He calls out to you. "Oh, Y/N. Where are you?" He asks.

He walks towards the Jungle Room, but there's still no sign of you. It doesn't make him mad. It only makes him want you more. He so enjoys the chase.

"Oh, you are so good at this, Y/N," he says. "I'm going to find you, and I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll be begging me to stop."

You start to giggle but quietly move downstairs. Elvis heard you and ran to the sound of your voice.

"Baby, no cheating now. If you left the house, that's cheating. You want the public to see you. That beautiful, naked body of yours."

*ring* goes the phone.

Elvis looks at the phone confused. Who could be calling you and him right in the middle of your game. Hesitant, Elvis picks up the phone and answers.

"Hello?"

"I didn't leave the house," you say over the phone.

"Y/N, you naughty girl. You deserve a spankin'."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Once I get my hands on you..."

"Talk is cheap, Presley."

"Tell me where you are."

"Where's the fun in that?" You answered him. "You're so close, E."

"Give me a hint."

"Well, there are six phones in the house. One in your study. The kitchen. The bedroom. The living room. And the other two are... E?"

Elvis goes quiet. Dead quiet to the point that it scares you. Then you realize he knows where you are!!! He knows you're downstairs! You drop the phone and try to make a run for it, but he grabs you as you get to the doorway. You yell with excitement.

You back away from him. You made him wait to pleasure you too long. He's sex deprived, hungry, and needy for you. You can see the lust in his eyes. Where the color of his eyes was once a clear blue, you now see a stormy dark gray.

"Now, E..." You say trying to calm him down.

"Silence," Elvis says, backing you up to the sofa.

You run away from him further into the den of the room, but he's right behind you. He grabs you and lays you face down on the sofa. He slaps your ass a few times cause moans to escape from your lips.

"Bad girl," Elvis says, through clinched teeth.

*smack*

"Making me wait to fuck you."

*smack*

"Not allowing me to take what's rightfully mine."

*smack*

"Awe!" Is all you can muster up.

The action makes you wetter. You start to hump the couch as another smack lands across your backside. Elvis has your hands where you can please yourself, so you fuck the sofa.

He forces his hand upon your ass once more, then he raises you ass in the air where you can't grind the sofa.

"Elvis, please," you beg.

"Elvis, please!" He mocks you, placing another smack to your rear end.

Then, without warning, he stuffs himself inside your pussy from behind. You let out such a moan at the penatration and pleasure that fulls you up. Holding your sides, he pounds his rock-hard dick inside with fervor. You delight in the feeling of being one with him.

With your hands free, you waste no time placing your fingers on your clit to work yourself into a frenzy. He pumps into you for a few minutes until he pulls out of you, turning you around to fuck you from the front.

He hungrily kisses your lips and makes his way down your neck. He takes his time going down to your breast, giving them special treatment. You moan at the sensation of his lips on your skin. They're like two plush clouds massaging you.

Elvis bites your left nipple causing you to scream. He looks at you with that devilish grin and licks the ache away. He sits up for a moment, and you take this opportunity to kiss him. You push him on his back, mounting his cock. He helps you line yourself up with his cock, and pulls you down to relieve the ache of pleasure. You both moan at the first stroke of each other.

You begin to ride his penis like you're on saddle back. You start slow at a slow trot and pick up the pace into a full gallop. Your heart has been racing since the beginning of your little game. But it's nothing compared to the way it races with Elvis inside you. You love this man so much.

He pushes himself inside you just right where he hits your g spot, and your moans fill the room. You are so blissed out from ecstasy that you tumble on top of him. He holds you closer than a toddler holds his or her teddy bear.

You both lay there quietly, just enjoying each other's company.

"Baby," Elvis says, "That was the best game of hide and seek I've ever played. I never knew running around Graceland naked could be such fun."

"Oh, I did, E. I knew," you say, wrapping his arm around you.

"So, what's the next game, Y/N?" He asks, kissing your head.

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @eptodaytommorowforever @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @dreamingofep @aliypop @littlehoneyposts @msamarican

[pidgemotoiii]

Hot for Shuri

Professor Shuri x Black fem Reader

An: @ventingfanfics, Dude you really had me up on breaks with those professor shuri fics. You really did that honestly (Idk how to 'dedicate' or use this app properly but thank you for inspiring me to write again mwah, and all the other shuri writers thank you.

Word count: 3.1K

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“Please do not forget to do your reading on page 107! Reading is just as important as the homework people!” 

Her voice boomed off of every wall in the lecture hall. The students filed out of their seats, going to lunch, another class, hookup, anyone’s guess really. 

“They never really listen, do they?” her voice softened, clearly out of professor mode.

There is really no introduction needed but this is Shuri Udaku, your Artificial Intelligence, and Machine Learning professor for the spring semester. 

She’s beautiful, and her smile gets a thousand miles wide when she gets on a topic she’s passionate about. She’s attentive, never missing a question, and always advertising her one-on-one study sessions. She’s caring-

“Hi! Are you here to see me?” if she only knew that's why you took her class-her black turtleneck was form-fitting and her black slacks were clean and crisp, maybe even starched. Her loafers are polished, not a speck of dust or dirt. You might be a little scared if her eyes didn’t literally spell out ‘home’ for you or ‘take me home’. Her pea coat is a little oversized, but considering her small frame, it wasn’t something out of the left field. 

Ah, Shit. She looks so elated to have someone staying behind to see her. Good thing for you, you don't have to tell her that you just wanted to stare some more. Professor Udaku is practically buzzing, she’s running her free hand over the shaven side of her head and down her neck. Now it switched to tugging at the straps on her bag, her face pleading for you to ask her something.   

“Uhm- about chapter seven. I didn't even understand a sentence to even ask you a question.” You let out a sigh and put your head in your palms: ‘Maybe too truthful’ you said to yourself. 

She placed her hand and delicately kneaded the sliver of skin between your neck and shoulder. She tilted her head and smiled, ‘it's okay you’ll be fine’, the message was well received by you. Professor Udaku rested her bag on the seat in front of you and shuffled her way to sit next to you. A quiet ‘excuse me’ as she passed by. As she turned the chair towards you a terrible screech echoed across the classroom snapping you out of your reverie. She chuckled softly, soothing your metaphorical wound, desperately grasping to have your attention on her again. Having crushes are terrible for the heart.  You prayed you didn’t say what you thought out loud.

“We’ll get there when we get there.” She’s so wise. She pulled out a yellow notepad from her bag and began to write.

“This is my-”

“Oh no no I already have it, you put it on the board on Monday remember.” You abruptly tried to rebuttal by grabbing her hand and forcing her to stop writing. She closed her eyes, shook her head no, and gently removed your hand from atop hers. It was really nice while it lasted so you leaned in closer to see what else she was writing. 

She spoke softly and clearly, “This is my personal phone number, if you have any questions-”

“Any?” You butt in again.

“Yes any, please don’t hesitate to ask. I see you have a lot of questions, make sure to text them to me.Though for your sake and mine, my cutoff time is ten pm.” She rolled her eyes at you but you could tell they held no malice. Your face could not handle the intimacy of the conversation you guys were having. The level of smiling you were doing should be illegal. You were ecstatic- 

She tore off the note and for a brief moment you felt her hand touch yours again. This time you observed more carefully; short and carefully manicured nails perfect for working in a lab (and something else if she wants to). You two said your goodbyes and she left. As she walked out though, you could tell, she had more of a bounce in her step than before you two talked. 

Shit! no, you need to go! Lia made you promise that you would meet up at the cafe for twelve it’s eleven thirty- You swiftly packed your bags and sprint out of the lecture hall.

–-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cafe was warm, small tables lined the floors and brown walls with dark green detailing. Decaf filtered the air but there was a special area you two liked to sit in. Separating the cashier line and the rest of the cafe was a high table with barstools and a lengthy counter that could seat at least ten. You spotted her and she had her laptop out and a sandwich waiting for you.

“Lia! Lia!” Your voice is loud but careful not to disturb the other patrons.

“Babe! Over here!” She is not so considerate, always moving 

This is Lia, your best friend, and overall the best person you know on campus. Her braids are always in a ponytail for mostly being in the kitchen such as the life of a culinary student and pastry chef in training. Also, the best person to go to for advice and free brownies.

“Lia, guess what!” You nearly threw yourself over the barstool trying to regain the motor function that your professor stripped you of. 

“Oh no you have that look on your face again” Her face turned into a snarl, clearly disgusted at what you’re going to tell her. Lia looked you up and down, trying to sniff out what had made you so fidgety. A few things racked through her mind. 

“What look?” You questioned. You truly wanted to know what look you had on your face.

Lia sucked her teeth. She found the thing.

“Don’t suck your teeth at me-” You shot back.

“I can suck my teeth at you whenever I want!” she continued, at this point who could stop her. “You!”

“Me?!” Your eyes bulged. 

“Yes you! Don’t I think I don't know about your little hot for teacher situation” 

Your mouth was agape, too many eyes locked unto you two. There was silence, a ‘not a creature stirred, not even a mouse’ type of situation. The ‘best person on campus’ title is growing quite thin. 

“Why would you say that out loud like that?!”  

“A light shaming never hurt anyone.” 

This bitch- she was amused at your plight.

“I love you, you know this but babe, you have a crush on the teacher whose your hardest class. You won’t even take up her study seshes which are designed to help you. It’s only February and this class isn’t even part of your major, you just wanna look up in her face! You doin’ bad babe.” 

‘Oh my God am I really that bad’ you posed that ever-looming question to yourself. Lia might be right, but who would you be if you took her advice not you that's who. That 90-degree of that jawline is the best version of NyQuil you could ever get. 

“Now tell me what you have to tell me.” Her face is stone cold, and the botox finally sets in. Well now you didn't even want to tell her the good news, but who else are you telling, your therapist?

“She gave me her actual number. She told me to ask her any questions I have but not past ten.” You regained your smile as you recounted the events earlier today. Attempting to save some sort of face and scrounging around for some charm you had to mask the deep goofiness that was coming out of your mouth. 

Lia looked exhausted by the time you finished. She took a deep inhale and exhaled. She took out her phone and began furiously texting.“I’m gonna do you a big favor. I sent you Riri Williams’ number.” She dumped her phone down and it made a sound. 

“Who…?” Your voice is hushed.

“Don't play cute. Oh.. you’re serious?” You gave her a head tilt that meant ‘duh’.

“Cornrows, a year above us, just under 5’3, brown skinned.” She continued hoping to jog a memory that you clearly didn’t have. 

Your eyes flicked from left to right, “That could be anyone, thanks.” Your voice is an unwavering monotone.

“You’re welcome, she’s in robotics, heard she’s a prodigy and she's doing classes at a discounted rate.” She blessed you with a sickeningly sweet smile. 

“A discounted rate? What’s the discount? I don’t trust you.”

 Lia’s eyes seemed to dart everywhere but your face, how strange. 

“Two hundred fifty.” 

“Two hundred and fifty! Lia- what’s the rate then?” You asked her frantically, eyes dotted over her face anticipating a ‘just kidding’.

“Ten percent-” Your brows furrowed, and your eyes and mouth crinkled. 

“Shit.” You bonked your head on the table, your butterfly locs falling in your face. Her hands trying to brush the locs out of your face.

“That you are in.” You could hear her snickering trying to not break her caring friend act. 

“That’s not funny.” Your voice muffled from being in your hands.

“It is to me.” You looked up and her lips were puckered, failing to hide her smile. You felt as if your eyes would get stuck in the back of your head. 

“At least tell me where to find her.” She sighed, finally getting your head out of your ass.

“Try the Q dorms across from the library. I think she said the dorm number is one hundred eight.”

“Thanks.” 

“You're welcome again, ugh have to go to my next class. Professor said try to be early for a demonstration. I already ate lunch so Imma have to see ya. Make sure to tell her Lia sent you” 

“Alright later.” She gives you a dismissing wave and mouths ‘you better fix your shit’ with a point too, she meant business. You playfully cut your eye at her. Her walk was sad at best, demotivating at worst to watch, obviously not wanting to go early to class but begrudgingly went like a good little student. You grabbed your phone and typed out a quick message to Riri Williams. 

Riri Williams(Possible Tutor)

Hey, this is Lia’s friend, she said you did classes.

2:05 pm 

‘Might as well do some homework’, you thought. Two pages of an essay and two CIS assignments later you heard a ‘bzzt!’ 

Riri Williams(Possible Tutor)

Hey this is Lia’s friend, she said you did classes.

2:05 pm 

Hey yeah, come over to the tech building so we could talk more I hav to do sumthin for a teach

3:55 pm

Rm 24

3:56 pm

Room twenty-four in the tech building it is then. You just came from there and now you have to go back there again ugh you might just have to do the Lia walk. You pack up your things and go again- you reach there around four fifteen. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knock on the open door not wanting to startle the girl. This isn’t a classroom, it's a printing room. The walls are grey and only one blinking light seems to work in the large space. You thought MIT had the money to fix these things and one window, sad.

“Hey you could come in, don't be scared.” her voice is raspy, and she’s hunched over one of the printers. She’s been here for at least two hours judging from the number of copies on the printer. What do you know she is just under 5’3, and you’re scared the printer might just eat her alive.

“Done! All three hundred!” She shoots up, stretches, and shakes her head. You just watch and wait till she catches her breath. 

“So why are you here?” Straight to the point, you like it. 

“My friend Lia said you did tutoring for mostly anything physics related.” 

Her eyes light up when you say Lia’s name and her smile turns crooked. You wondered why she didn’t look at you in the cafe. She pauses and fixes her face back to a neutral expression. She does a quick headcount by the hundreds to make sure she did whatever she was doing correctly and nods.

“Come, walk with me.” More walking you think, you subtly roll your eyes and pick up the pace. 

“Class?” She can barely look at you through the mountain of papers.

“Introduction to Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning.” Her head swiftly tilted and she gave you a look of pity. “With who? Don’t say Wilkinson.” 

“No, Udaku.” There goes the pity.

Her eyes make brief contact with yours. “Girl why the hell are you here then-” You don’t like that- her eyes might as well burn through the paper. 

“I wouldn’t be here or willing to pay the price of two hundred and fifty. If I didn't need your help.” You stand your ground firm just as your mother taught you. Too busy with your proclamation declaration you didn’t realize the two of you had stopped. 

“Can you please just knock on the door?” said Riri urgently. You dealt three firm knocks on the dark oak door. You looked up at the name tag on the door, Oh my God. You can not be serious. 

That Bitch couldn't have told you that she was Professor Udaku’s TA?

“Shuri! Can you open up the door please, these papers are heavy!” You did a double take and ran behind Riri. ‘Shuri’ opened up the door and you remembered why you didn't want to take up classes in the first place. You heard that crystal clear no Professor Udaku, not Professor Shuri, not even a miss Udaku. Oh no, these two have some history. 

“Thank you Riri, you can put them where you usually do.” Usually?!

“Shuri, I brought one of my clients. Can we stay for a bit?” Riri goes to her usual drop-off desk, you just happened to notice the Stay-. You undoubtedly have no input in her decision-making. This is why you go inside her office, Professor Udaku is still at her desk, she didn’t notice you as of yet. These papers were a blessing in disguise. 

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

Just like her door, most of the furniture is dark oak. The walls are a pretty indigo hue, a black fluffy circle rug. A black couch with two end tables. Two bookshelves opposite the couch that could be a good five foot eight. In the middle of her office is her desk, large, from what you could see; there are multiple picture frames, a lamp, Her of course, and her desktop. Oh, the window that stretches from floor to ceiling is also a nice touch. Awe you nearly squeal a poster with a panther hanging from a branch that says ‘You can do it’.

During your awe Riri walks over to Professor Udaku they're saying something. She tugs the professor over to her stack of papers pulling her from what you assume was marking. Riri proudly presents her handiwork to the professor. “Riri I don’t have time for this” she mutters while double-checking the papers. She then ushers her over to you, and she smirks, the professor is still not interested. 

“Shuri, meet my first client from your class” What the hell-  you and ‘Shuri’ shared a glance. “I just thought you’d like to meet her”. Shuri is astounded, her mouth quivering, she's clawing at you to say something. You open your mouth and nothing comes out. She pivots back to the copies, squares her face, ever so calculating-

“Riri you forgot ‘Introductory Xhosa’.“ Riri is flabbergasted, her arms are flailing and her speech is stuttering.

“Uh no I did not, check again.” The ‘check again’ comes out hastily. 

“Riri- just go look back on the printer for me.” Professor Udaku unclenches her teeth and grunts out a ‘please’. Riri mirrors her grunt with a ‘fine’, she stomps out and slams the door. You attempt to scurry out the door before

“No, you stay.” She looks for a place for you two to talk. You walk slowly and shamefully back to the area, and she guides you to the couch smoothly with her hand on your back. This crop top and the short pants duo were not working any favors for you.

 “Sit.”, you sat down, and she sat down. The room was hushed but the feeling wasn't tranquil. Professor Udaku crossed her legs and leaned her head against the couch, capturing your eye once again. Her face was despondent, her cool hand long gone from your back. The only thing you could hear other than your breath was the clock ticking, mocking you. ‘When would Riri be back?’. After too many ticks you decided to break the silence. 

“Professor-”

“No, outside of class you call me Shuri.”

“Shuri” You tested the waters, it sounded foreign on your tongue.” I already had plans of going to Riri”

“Now you lie to me too.” What did she mean by too? She crossed her legs. Her face is still despondent.

“I didn't lie.” 

“You’re still lying!?” It’s best you be quiet and let her speak, so you do that. “Why couldn’t you have told me that it wasn’t enough. Why did you wait for me to give you my number?” Your hands tugged at the hem of your shorts, your gaze cast downward. Shuri uncrossed her legs and stilled your hands with her own. Her grip was steady and reassuring, “I want to help you, I do, you just have to let me. Can you let me do my job?” 

You let out a breath, “I will.” She let out a broken chuckle and ‘thank you’.

The door slammed open, just in time. 

“Riri stop trying to break my door!” Shuri really didn’t like that, her grip turned distressing. Oh that's right you two were still holding hands, you shook your hands free of hers, Riri didn't even notice. 

“Why? you not my Umama!” Shuri rolled her eyes., “I see you found the Xhosa copies”. “No! I didn't- I told you to check again!” Riri was not backing down from this, Shuri relented and bowed her head “I’m sorry Riri.” 

“That’s more like it. You-” She’s pointing at you like she just remembered your mere existence. “If you want we can meet for three and I won’t charge you next time but after that, two fifty. Deal?” Riri’s stance is concrete.

“Deal.” you echoed. 

“wai-Wait how about you two have lessons here.” Is she serious? “I could buy some chairs and smaller desks and have them shipped by your second session.” She is serious. Riri considered for a bit, Shuri rocked on her heels waiting for her response. 

“Look, see you get two geniuses for the price of one.” If she only knew. Shuri couldn’t contain her excitement murmuring to herself that she'll place the order right now. You couldn’t feel any worse than how you did now.

An: Thank you if you read the fic. Yeah any constructive criticism is welcome. If you have any requests I have a box up (hope it works) and yeah thats it. :3

[ohtobeleah]

congrats on 4k!! you deserve it leah 🫶💕

PL2 with scenario 32 (date gone wrong) and sentence 31 (“i won’t let anyone hurt you”) with mickey?

Protective Mickey is a weakness of mine through and through so thank you for attacking my weak spot. 

Warnings: Sexual Assault. Mickey Garcia x F!reader. Please do not read ahead of you are sensitive to topics that include sexual assault and unwanted advances.

Mickey Garcia would throw his literal life on the line for you, he would give up his Mr ‘good guy’ Fanboy golden retriever energy to protect you from harm's way. He’d drop the gentle demeanour that he and Robert Floyd seemed to work pretty hard to maintain in a heartbeat to throw down with any man who put you in any form of danger, and he did just that, last night, when someone did just that, put his best friend in danger. 

Mickey, currently—could be found sitting at his desk with his knuckles bruised and a black eye. He was a mess to say the least and he most certainly wasn’t making the situation any better by watching the group chat pop off like he was the talk of the town. He knew come Monday morning he was gonna get a write up. But that was the least of his concerns. 

You were his number one priority. 

Mickey had snuck back into his room after he’d spent the better half of the night with his arms wrapped around you in a warm and ever so protective embrace with a bag of frozen peas from the freezer pressed to his eye. You were so out of it still but you managed to recognise the smell of Mickey's cologne, settling into his touch to wrap your arms around his tense shoulders.

Fanboy still wasn’t over it, he hadn’t slept all night. You would know because you too had laid awake all night just breathing in the familiar scent of Mickey Fanboy Garcia, still very much hungover, still very very dazed and confused. 

“Watching people spread falsified drama around town about you won’t help Mick.” You mumbled into Mickey's neck as you came to stand beside him at his desk, leaning over his shoulder as you watched the video Jake had sent to the group text of Mickey nearly beating the guy who’d spiked your drink and tried to take advantage of you, within an inch of his life play on his phone screen.

“S’not falsified, besides, can only see it through one eye so it’s only half as bad as it would be normally.” Mickey responded with a soft chuckle that rumbled through his chest as he held your hand that was gently playing with his chest hairs—firmly bringing it to his split lip and leaving a gentle kiss upon your palm. “Are you okay?” 

As you removed your arms from Mickey's body briefly, he spun around in his chair as you sat down comfortably into his lap—straddling his waist as you cradled his beaten up yet still so beautiful face between your hands. Your eyes glancing over every inch of him. You took  in everything before you as you shook your head. 

“No.” You held back a sob as tears threatened to spill over your lower lash line. You took a moment to breathe in deeply and exhale slowly—with your eyes closed tight, your body tensed up from remembering the events of the night prior. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**~

It was as impromptu as your presence in North Island was, you’d come to stay with Mickey for a week or two after you’d finished up your apprenticeship at the bakery back home. You needed a break, a reprieve from the mundane. 

So when you found yourself sitting across from some guy at one of the booths in the Hard Deck listening to him drone on about his latest tactical response time for the US Navy, you knew you were a little far gone when it all sounded like a blur of words you didn’t understand. 

“So you two never—?” Hangman asked as he bumped Fanboys shoulder with his as they played a casual game of pool. “She seems like a nice girl? I could probably take her home to mama Seresin and she’d probably approve.” Jake got a chuckle from Mickey as he took his shot before standing to look over at where you were, happily laughing away with this guy who’d stolen your attention. 

“Y/n’s just Y/n.” Mickey tried to play down the fact he’d been in love with you since the fourth grade. “And I like to see you try Hangman—she’s got standards.” Mickey napped back at Jake as his jaw slightly hung in utter disgust. 

“I’m uh—gonna go to the bathroom for a minute.” You made it a point to politely excuse yourself from the gentlemen who was sitting across from you. He nodded and took another sip of his drink as you rose to your feet—a little wobbly. God you always pushed it two far, your liver must’ve fucking hated you at this point. Poor little guy, you promised yourself you’d never drink this much again as you made your way towards the bathrooms at the back of the bar. Mickey caught your gaze. He just needed to know where you were was all. 

Although you threw up the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, thinking that it was just because you’d had a little bit too much to drink—willing yourself to lay off the alcohol for a while, you swore you hadn’t had that many cocktails. 

Everything was fuzzy as you sat on the somewhat clean bathroom floor with your head in your knees. You didn’t care about modesty or the fact that you were wearing a dress and if anyone walked in they would see your underwear. You didn’t care, but you would. 

You didn’t even notice when he walked in, you felt so off and incoherent  to the point you were almost blind it was a miracle you hadn’t said anything embarrassing. 

“I’m not feeling so good, Flyboy.” You tried focusing your eyes on the built man you thought was your best friend, only noticing the dark locks and firm shoulders that you held on to as he picked you up from the floor with ease and placed you on the marble countertop. It caused your dress to very much roll up your thighs, clearly exposing your panties. But you didn’t care, it was only Mickey? 

Right? 

“Mick? W-what are you?” You started to ask as the man who you thought was Mickey pulled your legs apart with ease, to tired, drunk, dazed and very confused to fight back at all.

“S’okay dollface, I’m gonna take real good care of you.” His lips attached themselves to your neck as you tried to move away. Like a succubus, the man made his way up the expanse of your neck. 

“Stop, Mickey, I'm serious! Get off me!?” You tried your hardest but it was to no avail, the man who now looked nothing like Mickey Garcia had pinned your hands above your head with one arm as he unfastened his belt and fly. 

“We were having such a good time out there, I thought maybe we could have a little more in here.” You were drunk, yes, but you knew you didn’t want this, didn’t ask for this, didn’t make any advances that could have led to this. The shock of the man pinning your arms cleared your eyes long enough for you to see it wasn’t Mickey - it was the guy you’d been on an impromptu date with and had flirted with for drinks all night. Turns out he wasn’t just buying you rounds, he’d spiked them too. “You’re so fucking sexy.” 

His hand was cold against your entrance as he pulled your panties to the side, he knew how high you were because he had fed you the drugs. Whatever the hell he’d spiked your last drink with.

“Y/n? You in there?” Jake asked as he knocked on the door. He tried his best to turn the handle but it was locked. “You ran in here like ten minutes ago?” A mumbled Jake Seresins voice broke through the haze and confusion as he knocked on the bathroom door which clearly stated ‘occupied’  

“HEL—!” You screamed, the man’s hand came up to cover your mouth before the p could leave your lips. Your worried eyes meet the man who stood between your legs as you struggled to breathe against his hand. 

“S’okay? We’re okay? Right dollface?” 

What he didn’t know? was that Jake had heard that. He knew it was you who just screamed, and he definitely didn’t like the sound of the last sentence he heard. Rage pumped through his veins as he barged against the flimsy door - catching the eye of Fanboy who was already on his way over after seeing Jake press his ear to the bathroom door, you’d been gone a hell of a lot longer than Mickey was comfortable with. What the hell was going on and where the bell was that dude you were just with? 

“Hangman? What’s wrong?”

“Y/n’s fucking in there! And I heard a guy's voice,  something’s not right” Mickeys heart sank as Jake barged against the door again. This was the Hard Deck. Things like this didn’t happen at the Hard Deck. 

Oh boy was Jake right because the guy you’d thought could have been a decent guy had almost his entire length inside you before the door came flying off its hinges - Jake and Mickey followed right after as the guy quickly pulled himself from you and started fixing his pants. 

Mickey took one look at the sight in front of him and felt his blood boil. With fire ignited in his heart he wasted no time grabbing the guy by his collar and slamming him to the wall—no questions asked. Mickey threw his first punch of the night as Jake picked you up and carried you out. 

“I got you—“ Jake soothed you as he assessed your state and immediately knew you weren’t all there. “Penny! I need you to call an ambulance and the fucking cops.” 

“THE FUCK GIVES YOU THE RIGHT!” Another punch landed against the guys face as Mickey seethed through gritted teeth. He saw nothing but red in front of him. How dare he touch you, assault you, violate your trust and kind heart. 

“I’ll fucking kill you before I walk out this door! Mother fucker! What gives you the right! To TOUCH her!?” Another punch landed, three to the nose in less than ten seconds. You can clearly see how the bruised hands came to be.

“She wanted it!” The guy cried out through a smirk and bloodied teeth before shoving Mickey off him and landing his one and only punch against Mickey of the night before he almost came close to visiting the gates of hell. 

It was all over pretty quick but it was long enough for videos to be taken and spread like wildfire- no context given. You really couldn’t in that moment of madness comprehend the severity of the situation. 

Jake handed you over to Mickey once he had finished talking with the police. Making sure a case would be brought against your attacker before talking with the medics to see if you needed to be admitted overnight, you quietly sobbed into his chest, confused and scared. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Was all you remember Mickey saying before you passed out, not really remembering the rest of the night until you were laying in silence against Mickey's chest—breathing in the familiar scent that is Mickey Fanboy Garcia. “But I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again, I promise.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

[adudelolwriting]

Pre mh Tim and Brian getting a cat together?

oh my gods this shouldnt have taken 4 days to write 😭😭but yippee i finally got it done !! hope you enjoy :D

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It was a pretty well known fact that Brian and Tim live together. They were a pair after all, it isn't surprising when they moved in. The two always did stuff together, forever two peas in the same pod. 

One morning, while Tim was smoking outside, a lone, stray cat walked up to him and rubbed against his leg, purring. Tim let out a puff of the smoke, blowing it away before speaking to the cat. "Well, hello there, buddy. What're you doing out here?"

The small cat meows at Tim, continuing to rub against his jeans. The man chuckled, petting the poor thing between its ears. Tim had to admit, it was cute. Long fur, with brown and black markings across its back. It doesn't have a collar, so there isn't an immediate way to tell if it was a pet or a stray. Tim continued to rub his hand down the things back, feeling its ribs. 

"I don't have any food for you bud," Tim says as the cat looks up to him, sadly meowing. A quiet giggle from behind made Tim startle, and he looked back to see Brian watching through the screen door. 

"Oh, morning Bri," Tim smiled up at him, seeing his disheveled hair hadn't even been brushed yet. "Up early?"

"It's ten in the morning," Brian replied, smiling as he yawned. He opened the screen door, sitting down on the steps next to Tim. The cat meowed again, now rubbing against Brian's legs as well. "Think it has an owner?" Brian asked as he pet the cat behind the ears.

"Dunno. It doesn't have a collar but it's super friendly," Tim says, putting out his cigarette on the concrete. "I'm not busy today. Maybe I could take it to the vet or something. See if it's chipped."

Brian hummed. "It's a cutie. If it doesn't have an owner, do you want to keep it?" Brian asks, looking up to meet Tim's eyes. He watched as several expressions crossed Tim's face at once. 

"I dunno," Tim finally said after a moment. "I've uh… I've never had a pet before, so."

"I can help show you!" Brian smiled. "You'll be a good pet owner, I know it. You're a big baby when you see animals."

He laughed, rolling his eyes as the cat crawled onto Brian's lap, purring loudly. "If you say so. If you're sure about this, then… yeah. I think it'll be nice to have a pet around." 

It was a busy day. They had taken the cat to the vet (thankfully they were able to get her in the same day), and it seems like she didn't have an owner. After a quick checkup, the vet had said she seemed pretty healthy. 

Tim and Brian decided to get her chipped. After the vet, the two went to a local pet store, grabbing anything you could think a cat would need — a cat bed, litter box, litter, cat food, food and water bowls, and several different types of toys. 

They also got her a collar, with a tag saying their address, and a name tag reading Autumn. 

It was late in the afternoon now, and they were just getting home with everything. Autumn seemed interested in their house, sniffing around and quickly exploring the place, playing with her toys. 

Brian was taking several photos, sending them to Alex and Jay. Tim watched amusedly as Brian and the kitten played together. She was super lovable, and loved the fake mouse toy that Tim had picked out at the pet store for her.

It was nice. Tim and Brian were always a pair, but now they had something to look after together.