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buckybarnes82 · 2 days ago

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We don’t argue!

Summary: Bucky overhears a conversation that makes him worried about your relationship. He acts out of emotion instead of logic.

“I’m just saying, if there are no fights, there is no romance! It’s just boring!” Yelena spoke firmly as she, Ava, and Walker sat in the back of the armored van.

Buckys ears perked up, he wasn’t trying to be nosy, not necessarily. However, that was the only conversation to be heard and now he was helplessly tuned in.

“What do you mean? I feel like it’s healthy not to argue! Not everything in life should be a struggle!” Ava rebutted, a smug smirk on her face.

“There needs to be a balance though, fire and ice!” Walker chimed in and Yelena nodded in agreement.

Bucky smiled to himself, thinking deeply about his relationship with you. The two of you had never argued, never bickered really. There were some slight side comments made here and there but it was never bigger than that.

“I feel like if you never argue you’re too comfortable! Where is the spice? Where is the passion?” Yelena clutched her chest dramatically making both Ava and Walker laugh loudly.

Bucky felt different after hearing that, shifting around in the driver's seat. He always felt safer being the one to drive because it meant he was the one in control. Plus, Alexei was chaotic and his driving made everyone else car-sick.

Alexei was sitting beside Bucky in the passenger seat, munching on a bag of chili-coated peanuts. He eyed Bucky from his peripheral vision, noticing he was now chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “Want snack? You hungry?” He shook the bag of peanuts toward Bucky.

“No, I’m fine,” he raised his fingers in protest against the steering wheel, letting out an annoyed sigh as he heard the conversation in the back continuing. Alexei shrugged and went back to looking out the window. He was ready to call it a night as his eyelids felt heavier.

When they got to the watchtower, Bucky was unloading the van with Yelena, and the rest of the team was upstairs making dinner. The two of them grabbed all of the sleeping bags and extra items they used for their weekend mission when Yelena felt Bucky's brooding hit an all-time high.

“Okay, big guy! What is the matter?” Yelena stood with her hand on her hip as Bucky pouted around her. “You look like someone flushed your fish.”

“Flushed my…? What? Nothing's wrong.” He rolled his eyes, throwing a bulky backpack over his shoulder.

“You started to drive like Alexei at the end there. We got home 20 minutes before the navigation system said, You’re not fooling me.” She slammed the back of the armored van shut and started to walk away when Bucky stopped in his tracks.

“Y/N and I just never really argue and now I’m worried.” He mumbled as Yelena kept walking, she heard him but had no plans of slowing down.

“Never?” She asked incredulously.

“Nope, never.” Bucky followed her as they took the elevator back to their floor, he stared at his scuffed boots as he waited for her to respond.

“Well, you haven’t exactly had an easy go at things. Maybe she is peacekeeping, and that’s not always a bad thing.” Yelena felt guilty for her words back in the van, knowing Bucky was going to harp on them for the next few days if not, weeks.

“But you said….” Bucky wasn’t able to finish before Yelena cut him off.

“I was just talking to pass time! Don’t take it so seriously! Y/N is nice girl!” Yelena shrugged before they went their separate ways and Bucky retreated to his bedroom, deciding to skip dinner tonight and go straight to bed instead.

————————

The next morning Bucky couldn’t shake the conversation that Yelena and he had and decided that he was going to try and start an argument with you. He knew it was silly, and that he’d come to regret it but he was desperate to know if you refrained from expressing your feelings to keep him comfortable.

Bucky picked his phone up from his nightstand, it was charging overnight and he was eager to hear your voice even if he was in his head at the moment. He called you, letting out a heavy sigh as the phone rang.

“Hey, handsome! I’m so glad you’re finally home. I missed you!” Your voice was soft, cheery, and everything he needed right now. He was however laser-focused on starting a fight and didn’t want to waste any time trying.

“Hey! Why didn’t you call me last night? I had sent you a message when we got back.” He tried his hardest to sound frustrated, straining his voice to sound raspier than usual.

“Oh! I assumed you wanted your sleep! You usually come home, eat, and sleep so I didn’t want to throw off your schedule, I’m sorry baby!” Your voice was caring, kind, and gentle as always. You were also 100% right, and he knew it.

“Right, right” he mumbled, trying to think of something additional to say to change the trajectory of the conversation.

“Are you alright?” You knew by the sound of his voice that he had something on his mind.

“No, I’m really….” He couldn’t believe he was doing this, Was he an overly emotional teenage girl? His emotions were suddenly heightened, and his head was spinning. “I’m actually really upset that you didn’t check in with me, it made me feel like you weren’t the least bit concerned.”

“Bucky? Baby? I’m always concerned about you! Where is this coming from?” He could hear the sudden tremble in your voice, making his stomach drop with guilt.

“Lately I just don’t feel so sure” he lied, he knew he was lying but he couldn’t stop himself, he wanted you to fight back, say something that would flip this conversation on its ass but instead you just started to profusely apologize.

“I’m so sorry honey! I never meant to make you feel like that. I always care, I love you. So much!” You sniffled and that’s when he knew he couldn’t continue the charade.

“Well, I gotta go.” he hung up the phone, turning it off before throwing it haphazardly on his bed and throwing his head back into his pillows in frustration.

Twenty minutes later he heard a sudden knock on his bedroom door, and outside of it stood a very irritated Yelena Belova.

“Barnes, open up or I’ll knock this damn door down!”

Bucky groaned as he got out of bed, unlocking his door and stepping aside to let Yelena in. He assumed she must have heard everything that had just gone on, and wanted to yell at him for it.

“Now, why in the hell would you do that?” She stood with her hand on her hip as Bucky sat back down on his bed. “Your girlfriend has been texting me nonstop for the last fifteen minutes asking me if something happened to you.” She scrolled through the numerous texts you had sent her for proof “I knew the conversation had gotten into your pea-sized brain but you really tried to start an argument with her?”

“What conversation?” Your voice trembled as both Bucky and Yelena hadn’t heard you enter the room. Bob stood beside you for a moment before going to hide in the corner in his favorite beanbag chair.

You had crumbs of mascara littered across your cheeks, your eyes were red like they had been freshly washed with soap and Bucky felt an immediate wave of guilt wash over him.

“Doll? Shouldn’t you be at work?” He wasn’t sure why he said that maybe it was a startled reaction to seeing you but Yelena turned to him “You wanted a fight, I think you’re going to get one.” She audibly scoffed as she stepped out of his room, shaking her head obviously as she stepped out of your way.

“That’s all you’re going to say to me? After you accused me of not caring about you?” You had the attention of all of his teammates, they had stopped in their tracks as they watched the dramatic sight unfold around them.

Bucky stepped toward you, he felt like the world’s worst person right now and he wanted to fix it immediately but as soon as he stepped toward you, you stepped back and further away.

“What is Yelena talking about? What conversation Bucky?” You had your arms folded, and now your sadness flickered to anger and Bucky could feel the heat radiating off of you.

“I don’t know…” he quietly mumbled as he looked around at his teammates who were all tuned into the drama.

You turned to Ava, Yelena, and Walker who were whispering to one another. “What the fuck is going on? Someone speak! Now!”

None of the team had ever seen you upset, for as long as you’d been around them they had known you to be shy, and reserved. Alexei laughed to himself knowing never to make a woman especially a woman who loves you angry, and Bucky had really done it now.

“Yelena said that people in relationships who never argue are boring, and I guess that got into his head. Which might I add is pretty easy to do, am I right?” Walker laughed obnoxiously, trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Uncalled for” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I’m mad at him right now but that was still a low blow even for you.”

Yelena and Ava mirrored wide-eyed expressions at one another as Walker took that as a sign to be quiet.

Bucky fought back a smile knowing how much Walker got under your skin, and even if you were pissed at him right now you’d still defend him. “Please? Come into my room and we can talk.” His eyes were pleading, and you knew he hated every second of this very emotional outburst happening in front of everyone.

You followed him into his room, sitting on his bed as he paced in front of you.

“Talk” your tone was rough, still obviously frustrated.

“Yelena suggested that maybe we didn’t argue because you were trying to peace keep, and it made me feel like maybe when things bother you, you don’t want to tell me. Maybe you think I can’t handle it? I just wanted to push the boundaries today and I shouldn’t have.” He had run his hand through his hair about ten times just getting all of that out to you, and now he was standing still like a statue waiting for you to respond.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. We don’t argue because you’ve never upset me until today. I thought we were good at communicating and then you said you felt like I didn’t care. Bucky, if anything I care too much!” Your voice cracked and Bucky felt like his heart did too.

“I’m sorry for what I said, honey. I swear I didn’t mean it. I know you care about me, and I never question that. I guess I just didn’t want you to think what we have is boring or think you couldn’t talk to me.” He sat down beside you, reaching for your hand cautiously.

You let out a chuckle, a small breathy one but Bucky still heard it. You grabbed his hand, setting it on your lap as your fingers intertwined. “You think, that I would ever consider you or our relationship as boring? I mean look where we are right now.”

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know why I let it bother me so much.” He nervously chuckled, feeling you ease up beside him. “I love you and I’m sorry for that, it was immature and I should’ve just talked to you. I never meant to make you cry, and I’m sorry for that too.”

You leaned over, kissing his cheek softly. “I love you too, and yeah next time just talk to me instead of being a teenage girl about it.” He knew you were teasing but his cheeks still grew warm with embarrassment.

“For what it’s worth, can I say something?” He was holding back a laugh, and you could tell by the way his lips were tightly pressed together.

“Just say it” you smiled knowing what was coming next just by the way he was looking at you.

“You’re sexy when you’re mad. It was doing something to me.” He knew that would make you smile, but wasn’t necessarily a lie either.

“You like that I put Walker in his place, don’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah I did” Bucky chuckled before leaning over taking your face in his cupped hands to passionately kiss your lips like a man starved.

“Good because if he keeps making jokes like that I’m going to put poison ivy in his suit” you mumbled between kisses.

“Ooooh- promise?” Bucky chuckled as the two of you flopped down on his bed to continue kissing, your legs wrapped around his.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fan fic #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes angst #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky x reader

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sugxto · 1 day ago

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fire hazard - eddie/volt/reader

⋆syn: There was a mishap while you were talking to Dante. But Eddie and Volt do not like the idea of someone else being so close to you. e/v masterlist.

⋆wc: 4.4k

⋆cw: m/m/ afab, g/n reader explicit sex, possessive, jealous sex, spitting, spit roasting, blowjobs, dirty talk and degradation. there are consensual, temporary marks that resemble burns made on reader's skin

⋆notes: reader insert uses g/n pronouns and is not described with feminine attributes. AFAB genitalia, terms used include hole, lips, entrance, cunt and clit.

⋆snippet:

“There’s something you may not know about us, live wire,” Eddie says, his breath against your ear making your knees buckle, but no matter - you’re still pinned in place. “Volt and I…” his other hand encircles your waist, his forearm over your belly, and pushes you back to his chest, “we don’t like to share what’s ours.”

“And we especially,” Volt pulls your jaw towards him as he leans down to you, his eyes flashing like a storm, “do not like others making their mark where it isn’t wanted.”

You were so, incredibly fucked.

fire hazard

You were fucked.

Literally fucked, you thought, if you weren’t careful tonight. The gauze around your hand was your skintone, you’d made sure to ask Fayra for it specifically, and honestly, it was barely anything. Just a little bit of redness, a little tenderness, that it would probably disappear tomorrow morning.

Dante hadn’t meant it, of course he hadn’t, and how could you have known? You touch Volt daily, and while his burns were intentional, they were never painful. But maybe, there was something different in how your skin reacted to fire incarnate versus electricity personified.

But there were two men you knew who may not see it so simply.

When you enter the Breaker Box, you’re greeted with a “live wire!” from behind the bar, and hurry over to them, Eddie throwing a shaker by his head. You give them both kisses on their cheeks, and settle next to Volt when he throws an arm over your shoulder.

“Whiskey sour?” Eddie asks, and when you say yes, he grabs three glasses and lines them up on the bar, filling each of them equally, with practiced ease.

God yes, you needed a drink, you think, as you reach out for it, but you realize your mistake s split second too late.

“Darling, what’s this?” Volt grabs your hand, gingerly touches the small bandage that Farya had wrapped around your palm, inspects the palm of your hand with curious white eyes.

You really were too hopeful, you know you were, thinking they wouldn’t notice, and maybe too stupid to think you could hide it from them.

“It’s nothing,” you try, quickly, to assure him, before looking up at Eddie, whose grey eyes are now locked on to where Volt’s fingers hold yours. “Literally, nothing. Just a mishap from earlier today.”

Eddie raises a brow. “A mishap?”

Shit. “Yeah. I,” you swallow, then let out a deep exhale. “I was talking with Dante, earlier, and he, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “runs hot.”

Two sets of brows fly up their faces, just, unfortunately, as you suspected might happen.

“He burnt you?!” “Dante hurt you?!” they say, overlapping in their incredulity and thinly veiled rage, and Volt’s fingers tighten around yours, sparks popping along your skin.

“Yes, but he really did not mean it!” You reach for Eddie, find his arm flexed as he grips the bar tightly. “We were role-playing -”

“Role playing!” both of them nearly scream, and you see Rainey, at a table not too far away, turn her head.

You huff, steel your face, and grab Eddie tighter, find Volt’s white eyes with what you hope is a look of confidence, no nonsense. “Both of you, listen to me. He’s been doing this thing where he wants to teach me the ways of how to make new relationships, and he wanted to act out a… scene. A silly scene of, just, finding mutual interests.” Eddie barks out a dry, hollow laugh. “And he grabbed my hand, and I guess, that he doesn’t have the same control over that sort of thing that you two do.” You flick your gaze between them, but neither of their faces have softened. “That’s it.”

And maybe, that would have been it.

If, at that very moment, the door to the Breaker Box hadn’t opened, and a warm, luminous figure walked through it.

Shit.

The fire that you see in Volt and Eddie’s eyes, you know for certain, has nothing to do with the glow that Dante emits, and everything to do with his mere presence. This is not good, very very not good, and without thinking, you run around the bar to meet him before he can get much further inside.

“Dante,” you say, your breath a little hurried, and the smile you put on your face is shaky, because you know you actually have no time to fix this situation. “Hey, um, wh-what are you doing here?”

Dante smiles, making his cheeks and chest brighter. “Hey, ember. Look,” he puts his hand on his neck, tilts his head, “I just wanted to apologize, again, I know you said it didn’t hurt, but still. I know you come here at nights, though, so I figured I could buy you a drink.”

You giggle, forced, and nervously. “That’s… really sweet, Dante, but I don’t know if now is a good -”

You feel him before you hear him, from the buzz on your skin and the way the hair on your neck stands at attention. You knew you wouldn’t be quick enough, but hey, at least you tried.

Volt’s hand finds your waist, and he presses you, hard, to his side, soldering you to him so there can be no misunderstanding, to anyone in the club. “Dante,” he says, and when you dare to look up at him, you see that hint of blue on his cheeks.

You were so fucked.

“It’s not often we see you at our little hole in the wall.” You can hear the anger being held back by what must be the thinnest wire imaginable. “Is there something we can help you with?”

Dante, you imagine, does not notice the fuse that is daring to blow at any moment, and smiles at Volt. “Yes! Well, I was wanting to buy this enigmatic ember here a drink, seeing as I accidentally got a little carried away earlier today.”

Volt smiles back - but it lacks any warmth, you know, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s mocking, almost, and you fight not to shudder when you feel his fingers singe your skin. “Yes, our spark was actually just regailing us. An accident, we’re sure, but still. We’d hate for it to happen again, so perhaps let’s be a bit more mindful next time, yes?”

Dante’s eyes narrow just the smallest bit, but he nods. “Right. And I can’t apologize enough.”

“Yes, quite right. And I’m terribly sorry, but we’re actually going to have to close up early - something has very suddenly come up, you understand, I’m sure. Perhaps our wire can indulge you another time.”

Yeah, not very likely.

You try to cast Dante a reassuring look, unsaid apologies in your eyes. “Thank you, Dante, but yeah, another time?”

He nods again, a soft look on his face, and a truly apologetic look in his fire-red eyes. “No worries, ember. No worries, at all.”

You hear Eddie yell out at the bar behind you, “We’re closing early! Everybody get out!”

There was a reason that Volt was the face of the club, but Eddie’s bluntness did come in handy when they needed it to.

Dante raises a hand to wave goodbye and takes a step back towards the door. “Till next time!”

You try to wave back, but a shock runs up your side and through your arm, and you shove your hand back down, just as Volt says, “Dante. For future reference, our spark is perfectly content with the relationship they’re in, so further lessons may not be warranted.”

Dante’s brows (at least, what you think are his brows) raise, his eyes now wide as he casts a glance behind you at the bar, where you know Eddie is watching. “I - of course. It was just, two friends having a conversation.”

He, and the rest of the guests leave, mutters of confusion and discontent passing by you and Volt as they exit, his grip on you never loosening. When he finally lets go, it’s only to lock the door, but you can practically hear the buzz of electricity emanating off his body even as he steps away. The ends of his hair are sparking so rapidly, you think that if he was standing by a curtain, they’d go up in flames.

You know you at least have to try, so you take a deep breath. “Volt -”

A lightning flash. Volt’s hand clutches your jaw, his silver fingers pressing deep into your cheeks. It was so fast you couldn’t even gasp, and now you let out a small sound in the back of your throat, somewhere between pleading, and relief. His skin is hot, and you feel the charge of his skin send a current through your own. And his eyes…

They were going to burn you from the inside out.

“Our sweet, darling little spark.” His voice is taunting, it’s dripping with mock sweetness, it’s mean - and you hate how much you love it. “I think we’ve heard all we need to hear, yes?”

“V -” you can’t even finish his name before two of his thick, long fingers are forced inside your mouth, and you cry out as he pushes down on your tongue, holds your jaw still, and he chuckles at how wide your eyes are, filled with pleas you are simply unable to voice. Because of him.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your neck, but it’s a different grip, one that’s humming with power, and the coils of wired hair brush your neck.

“And we especially,” Volt pulls your jaw towards him as he leans down to you, his eyes flashing like a storm, “do not like others making their mark where it isn’t wanted.”

You were so, incredibly fucked.

“So we think,” he says, as you feel Eddie bite down on your neck, “we’re going to have a reminder of our place, hm?” He makes a fake pout when your brows furrow, tsks his tongue at a plea that you’re prevented from voicing. “Oh, we know, little spark.”

Eddie’s teeth find your ear, his voice level, but you know too well the danger that lurks underneath it. “I thought that we should take you right on that stage, just to make the message clear.” When your knees buckle again, his arm pulls you back up, immobilizes you against him. “But neither of us thought anyone in the house deserved that sight.”

“Because you’re just for us, aren’t you?” He forces your jaw up, down, a pitiful little nod, and his voice is so warm, but it burns like a shot of whiskey in your throat. “And we’ll just have to ensure you aren’t likely to forget that.”

Volt’s fingers are gone, and you sputter and gasp, but then you’re being lifted, Eddie hoisting you up by your torso, and Volt bending to grab your legs, holding your ankles in his hands like they’re nothing. You’re suspended, held, between them, as they make their way towards the stairs. You try their names, you try pleas, you try apologies, as you are carried like a crate of whiskey up to their room.

“Volt, Eddie, I swear I -” now you’re airborne, for only the briefest flash, before your body hits the bed with a small bounce. As quickly as you can, you sit up, try to right yourself before them to plead your case, though you know the verdict has already been brought down. They are your judges, your jury, and you know, soon, your executioners.

You crawl to the end of the bed where they stand, look up at them with eyes you know they’ll ignore. “You two have to know it meant nothing, literally nothing, Dante is a friend -”

“A friend who has marked your skin,” Volt says, in a voice that an untrained ear might classify as unbothered. He’s unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, carefully, but his white eyes are locked onto your face.

It’s Eddie who moves at you first, his hand back at your throat when he bends down over you, his thumb teasing at your pulse. His titanium eyes are dark, that same storm in them that you saw brewing in Volt’s, and he turns your gaze so that they’re the only things you can focus on.

“Ya know, live wire,” he says, pulling your neck up to him, his lips ghosting over your own, “sometimes, you are just like Volt.” He flicks his tongue across your lips, and you moan his name, anguished. “No matter how much I fuck him, it’s like he’s never satisfied.” He pulls back an inch, searches your face with arched lightning brows. “Is that what we’re looking at here? You’re just not satisfied with what we’re giving you?”

“No,” your voice is rough, like it’s fighting to leave your mouth, and you shake your head as much as Eddie’s grip allows for. “Never, never, Eddie. You two are the only ones I want, I swear.”

“Hm,” he muses, and you know from that sparkle in his eye that he’s enjoying this, your pleas, your begs, how willingly you give yourself to them. “Volt, baby, what do you think?”

You feel sparks at your hips, and you’re pulled back, out of Eddie’s grasp, pinned to the burning chest of one of your partners for the second time tonight. One of Volt’s hands deftly undoes your pants, the other slides under your shirt, and you feel the sparks of his hair kiss your shoulders, your neck. His voice, soft and smooth as silk, makes you gasp when he presses his lips to your ear. “Hm, I think, much as they say they’re ours,” his fingers send a zap to your nipple, and you curse through your teeth, “that we need to remind them.” He shocks you again, and you feel Eddie tug at the waistband of your pants. “Don’t you want that, darling? You want to be shown your place, don’t you?”

It was here, between them, always - you knew this. Lived it and breathed it and cherished it every time they touched you.

And amps sake, you never wanted to forget it.

So, feebly, tentatively, you nod, and you find Eddie’s eyes, waiting like a tiger for your answer.

“Show me, please.”

Like a doll, like you’re nothing, they turn you over, your clothes gone so fast you don’t realize you’re naked until you feel their skin on yours (you wonder, in the back of your mind, if they somehow burned them off). Volt pulls your arms, drags you up the bed, and Eddie takes your ankles, manipulating your limbs until you’re on all fours for them. Volt holds your chin again, not so harshly as before, but enough to hinder any movements you may wish to make, as he levels your face to where his cock is standing to attention, tinged the same shade of blue as his cheeks.

You lick your lips at the sight, and when you feel Eddie swipe a finger over your folds, you groan, your arms already trembling. It’s not often you feel sparks from his fingers, but you’re certain they’re there now, buzzing and vibrating at your entrance.

He huffs out a chuckle, a sound like he’s found exactly what he was looking for. “You are fucking dripping, spark.” The tip of his finger teases its way inside, crooking it just a touch before he pulls it out with a hiss. “So fucking tight. It’s like you’re begging for us already.”

Volt’s eyes are so bright, staring down at your desperate face, and his grin shows a flash of his canines. “Oh, darling. You’re just a little slut for it, aren’t you?” When you moan his name in response, he presses harder on your jaw, and you relish the thought of the ache you’ll wake up to. “You want to be filled up, don’t you? Tell us. Tell us what you want.”

Your nails grip at the sheets beneath you, and when you speak, your words are stifled by Volt’s fingers. “Please, I need you - Eddie, Volt, fuck me. Please fuck me, pl-”

Volt’s cock forces its way inside your mouth at the exact moment Eddie’s enters your cunt, and you’re sure you know now how it feels to be struck by lightning.

They make you burn, these men who will surely be the death of you one day, who make you feel like you’re going to burst at your seams, and you make a strangled sound of joy, pleasure, at the back of your throat where Volt hits you. Because it’s perfect, it’s home, it’s all you never even knew you wanted, this feeling of wholeness between these two men. This, this was certainly your place.

Eddie’s hands are white hot on your hips as he pounds into you, your back arching to deepen the angle, every thrust shoving you forward to take more of Volt’s cock. No matter how you moved, how you tried, futilely, to adjust yourself, it only led to one of them bullying their way deeper inside you, giving you no room to run.

Volt holds your face in his hands, hardly having to rut his lips at all, relying on Eddie’s rhythm to move your mouth along his cock. “That’s it, our good little wire. Eddie’s right, you are just like me,” he strokes your cheeks, biting his lip when he feels your teeth, “so greedy for us, oh I know, I know. Two cocks inside you and it’s still not enough, is it?”

You try to make some sort of sound in your defense, but it comes out strangled, entirely fucked, and you feel a strand of drool fall at the corner of your lips. You make a sound of surprise, though, when you feel a zap at your clit, Eddie’s rough fingers giving you a teasing rub, and your arms ache.

“You want more, spark?” you hear Eddie say, his voice husky and warm and hitting you right in your heart. His fingers make small circles around your clit, and you worry you won’t have the strength to hold yourself up much longer. “You gonna cum for me I give you more, like a good whore?”

Yes, you wish you could say, wish you could nod and plead at his feet, yes, give me everything.

But instead, you can only moan, can only drool around Volt’s cock with your slack jaw, watched by white eyes with rapt attention. You feel it, almost immediately, building inside you, no inch of your body left untouched, and the warmth and tension builds up inside you like a copper coil. And then Eddie hits a new angle and oh, fuck, it’s perfect -

White dots cloud your vision, and your arms give out, your orgasm causing your whole body to spasm and shake, and you see bolts of lightning when you close your eyes. Volt falls out of your mouth, and you scream their names, your cunt tightening around Eddie like a vice.

When you come back to your body a minute, you take a shaky breath and release your death grip on the sheets. When you blink your eyes open, you realize you’re empty, the loss striking, but you don’t remember either of them cumming, so you lift yourself back up, your arms still unstable, and -

It’s steel eyes that greet you now, and you feel familiar, buzzing hands on your thighs.

Eddie sits back on his legs, and his hand comes to cup your chin, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Hey, live wire,” he says, brushing his thumb over your swollen lip, “didn’t think you were done so soon, did you?”

Surely, one day, you would not survive them.

“Eddie,” you whisper, not trusting your voice any louder, “my arms, I can’t -”

“Oh, you don’t need your arms, baby.”

He pulls as Volt pushes, and you’re on your back, your head between Eddie’s thighs, one of his hands on your cheeks, the other giving slow, unbothered strokes to his cock. Volt’s hands run up, up your inner thighs, and you shiver as the current from his touch warms your entire body.

“Darling,” Volt says, coming to lean over you, his hair glowing softly, “Eddie and I want to see our marks on your skin. They’re the only ones that belong there, aren’t they?”

You’re entranced by his voice - Volt is a siren, a silvertongue, and you’d do anything if it meant you could hear more of it. So you nod, agreeing, of course agreeing, though to what, you’re not exactly sure.

Eddie continues to stroke your cheek, and he hums. “You trust us, spark?”

With your life.

“Yes, of course,” you respond, flitting your gaze back and forth between them.

“Good. It shouldn’t hurt, but -”

“But you know what to say if it does, right?” Volt finishes, and again, you nod, pulling the word “fuse” forward, just in case, and he grins, softer than before. “Perfect.”

Before you can ask or say anything more, Eddie is guiding his cock inside your mouth, and you close your eyes as he fills you, tasting yourself on his skin. Volt hikes up your thighs, and then, in one quick thrust, he’s inside you too, slick with your climax and still sensitive to the touch. They feel so perfect, so in sync, knowing exactly how to fuck your body to benefit you, and the other. Two halves, completing each other, but completing you between them.

You feel Eddie shift, feel Volt lean forward and balance his arms at your sides, and you open your eyes to see them kissing above you, their tongues swiping at each other’s mouths, and you moan around Eddie’s cock.

White and steel eyes look down at you, up to each other, and back down to you again, twin smiles on their lips. It’s Eddie that speaks. “You want some, baby?”

You nod, as best as you can around Eddie’s cock, and you reach up a hand to hold it while you open your mouth below them, offering your tongue. Two strings of spit fall down, down to your waiting mouth, and you arch your back when they hit, swallowing it down like whiskey.

Volt laughs in a way that goes straight to your clit, and he looks back up at Eddie, the two of them sharing one more kiss before separating, and Eddie’s cock is back in your mouth where it belongs, Volt rocking his hips inside you with a fervor. “So fucking good,” Volt groans as he pulls your hips up, “Doing so fucking good, little spark, just for us.”

You already feel another orgasm building, winding itself in your belly, and both of them grow more erratic, more volatile in their movements. Eddie’s hand grips your bicep, and Volt finds your waist, and you are warm, so warm and charged and electric and full -

You groan, cry around Eddie’s cock as you cum, but it’s different this time, it doesn’t stop, it only builds, and the white hot current of their skin is in every cell of your body, burning you from the inside out and blinding your vision with white - and you are floating, outside of your body, in a white, warm haze between their bodies. Somewhere, somehow, you feel them reach their own peaks, filling you at both ends and grasping at your body for purchase.

Two sets of lips on your cheek are what eventually pulls you back, soft, loving kisses that keep you floating even as you return to your body, and you hum in contentment, a smile forming unconsciously on your lips.

“There they are,” you hear Volt say, feel his breath on your cheek.

“You back with us?” Eddie asks, and when you do finally open your eyes, it's his you see first.

You nod, though it takes a great amount of effort, and you stretch your arms, feeling sorer than usual. You catch a look between them, that silent thing they tend to do, and you hum again to get their attention back to you.

“Live wire,” Eddie says, and you notice a glint in his eyes, and when you turn your head to see Volt, you see its twin. “Can we show you something?”

You raise your brows, and try to respond, but find you have to clear your throat first. “Do I have to get up?”

Volt makes an amused sound. “I’ll carry you.”

And so he does, easily, and you press your face into his neck, if only for the moment it takes for them to bring you to their bathroom. Eddie’s fingers run over your calf, and he whispers, “Look in the mirror, baby.”

You turn, blink your tired eyes open, and gasp when you meet your reflection.

On your hip, and on your bicep, are two red, unmistakable handprints.

“Eddie,” you breathe, stuck staring at them. “Volt. I - put me down, please.” When he does, you get as close as you can to the mirror, admiring the different sizes that Volt and Eddie’s hands have left on you. They nearly blend into your skin, but are distinct in how raised, how obvious they are. You tentatively touch one, and are surprised when it doesn’t hurt, only the faintest tenderness that doesn’t feel unlike the shocks from their fingers.

They’re perfect. They’re yours.

You feel a lump form in your throat, feel tears start to brim at the corners of your eyes, and you find their reflections in the mirror, both of them beaming with pride, devotion, love. You can only hope your own face shows the face.

“We think they’ll last a week or so,” Eddie offers, leaning against the vanity towards you. “We’re… not really sure how different your skin is to ours, but.”

You shake your head, not caring if they last one more minute, or one more year. “They’re perfect. They’re - Eddie,” you sigh, not even sure how to describe it, and you turn around to find Volt. “Volt. I - I love you so much, I’m…” you trail off, not able to stop a few tears as they fall, and they are on you in a flash, carrying you back to bed, tucking you between them under the sheets.

They whisper their love for you in your ears as you drift off, your body pressed between them, Volt’s hand resting on Eddie’s handprint, and Eddie’s resting on Volt’s.

This. This was certainly your place.

#date everything #date everything smut #eddie and volt #volt date everything #eddie date everything #date everything x reader #eddie and volt x reader #eddie x volt #eddie x volt x reader #breaker box boys

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j3lly-fish · 2 days ago

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I've had these ears in my game for a LONG time now, mainly cause I made them in my starting days of meshing and kept fixing them a bunch later on LOL. I started meshing to make these ears for my main oc, and I think I'm finally pleased with them :) I'm really nervous about sharing these since its a piece of cc that is very dear to me, as silly as it sounds.... but I really hope you guys like it! 🥰

Unisex

All LODS

5 new meshes

Ears: All Ages

Earrings: Teen to Elder

Polys: Ears (2208), Rebel Earrings (3860), Hoop Earrings (1080), Mariposa Earrings (4734)

Found under Occult Details, Skin Details and Earrings

Disallowed for Random (At least im 99% sure I fixed that)

Known issues: Because these ears pick up the actual ear texture on sims, it's possible sometimes that hair textures conflict with it depending if hair textures ALSO occupy that ear space, just a heads up!

If you can't find some of my cc in your game, its likely you'll need CAS Unlocks for it (like occult detail slots).

You can recolor and edit my meshes, but please just link back to my original post! ♡

DON’T reupload, claim as your own or put behind a paywall

You can tag me so I can see what you do with my cc!

✦ DOWNLOAD (SFS) ✦ DOWNLOAD (PATREON) ✦

#sims 4 cc #sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 cc #j3llycc #sims 4 custom content #custom content #sims 4 mods #ts4 mods #j3llyccoccult #j3llyccaccessories

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nyancat674 · 3 days ago

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Okay I was just gonna leave my comments in the tags but I saw a few people mentioning him as the “anime protagonist of horse racing” and felt that y’all needed to be introduced to Uma Musume!

The premise of Uma Musume is simple: horse racing, but make it anime girls! And funnily enough, Gold Ship is the unofficial mascot. She’s just as insane as her real life counterpart!

Here’s a link (because tumblr won’t let me add it in the reblogs boooo) to a silly video from the Uma Musume subreddit showing off EXACTLY how similar game Golshi is to irl Golshi

Anyway, Uma Musume has been pretty popular in Japan for a while and with the release of the anime and now the global release of the game, it’s getting way more popular worldwide!

Years ago I saw a meme post here on tumblr about the anime and how ridiculous the premise seemed, and decided to watch it to laugh at it. Little did I know that it would have amazing stories and, as it developed, STUNNING animation! 1000/10 highly recommend! It’s one of my all time favorite anime, and its most recent season has been at the top of the popularity charts!

Also, the game is HELLA fun

If you want to know more about Golshi, you GOTTA look up the 12 billion yen incident! It’s so on brand for him lol!

And if you like learning about interesting race horses, here’s a few more to learn about:

Haru Urara- “Japan’s Lovable Loser” (and my personal favorite girl in the game, I’ve adopted her she’s my little sister), earned huge amounts of money in ticket sales alone from her sheer popularity!

Silence Suzuka- he protected his jockey in a critical moment, one of the main characters of season 1 of the anime

Symboli Rudolph- “The Emperor” “The Seven Crowns”

Kitasan Black- “Everyone’s Favorite”

Oguri Cap- “Idol Horse” the protagonist of the currently airing season of the anime!

#fun fact! in the game if golshi wins a g1 she’ll just come over and drop kick you I’m not even exaggerating lmao #everyone please enjoy how absolutely awesome uma musume is!!!#just give it a chance I promise you won’t regret it!!!!!!#and if you need help learning how to play the game I’ve got you!!!#Uma musume #gold ship #neon nyans

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birdnaps · 16 hours ago

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atomized

#in stars and time #isat #isat loop #loop #two hats spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #my art #my animation #isat fanart #flash warning #this was never meant to be polished or anything but still wish i could have worked on it a bit more #but ugh effort and motivation #if i didnt post it now it would become a forever wip #got such a strong image in my head of this when i listened to this song #no plans for the rest of the song sorry #made the credits and other text pages in a hurry when impact frames were kicking my butt and i needed a break lmao #they're a bit silly but a good excuse to include more of the song it is a bop

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f1fantasys · 15 hours ago

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Lost

Summary - lando breaks up with you. Need I say more?

Warnings - dickhead lando, angst angst angst, a bit of smut.

Not proofread. Will be a series.

Things hadn’t been the same for a while now. Day by day, things were shifting - the distance, the late night phone calls, the ‘I love you’s’

His win on Sunday was a bittersweet day, for you at least. You’d just watched the love of your life achieve one of his childhood dreams, but your heart clenched at the same time. Knowing whatever this was - the last 3 years together would soon be thrown away.

You can’t pin point the exact moment that things started changing. You could argue it was in Abu Dhabi last year, the last race when Mcl won the championship. Or it could have been Saudi this year, after his team mate won two back to back races. But somewhere along the line Lando stopped treating you like you were his world.

If you couldn’t attend a race, you’d barely speak, only really when you were the one to initiate conversation. He’d blame it on the time difference, or just tiredness. And you’d believe him.

When he was finally home, maybe after a double or triple header, he wasn’t dragging you to the bedroom for a hard fuck like he used to do. No. Now it was a peck on the cheek, before an excuse about going to golf with the boys, or just exhaustion so he needed sleep. And you’d let it slide.

Yes, he’d give you a quick fuck when he felt like it, but it was nothing to write home about. And more often than not, you’d hear him jacking himself off in the bathroom. But when you’d try to cuddle into him or try to start some form of sexual activity, even if it was just kissing, his mind would be elsewhere, fingers typing aggressively at his phone or letting you go slyly. And you’d let go, not push him.

Arguments grew over time. Over silly, stupid things. Nothing dramatic or nasty. But just frustration from the both of you.

Little things he used to do - whether it was buy you flowers, or tell you you look pretty, or even just a lingering hand on you - it was disappeared. He was slowly floating away from you - or he was letting you float away from him.

Soon even the magic three words weren’t being said. Of course, it was routine for you, you still said it multiple times a day, and maybe, if you’re lucky, you get one back. But it wasn’t something you expected now.

Everything was slowly fading away. Somewhere at the back of your mind, you knew you deserved better. Who in their right mind would stick along for this long without saying something, asking him why, confronting him. Day by day it was getting more difficult, but at the same time, a part of you stuck around because you love him with everything inside of you. He was your end game, or so you thought.

Going back to silverstone a few days ago, yes he held you a little longer that he’d done in the last few months combined, but that was all in front of other people - family, friends, fans, the media. Behind closed doors he was a different person. A guard up almost, hardly acknowledging your presence.

The night out was decent, you’d both had a few drinks in you, and as the night went on Lando did get a bit more handsy, but no where near the level he used to in the past. It felt foreign to you. To be right there with him but at the same time a million miles apart. The banter, small conversation, flirting, had all disappeared.

Safe to say when you got back to the hotel, you were stunned to find Lando in a hurry to strip your clothes off of you, his lips on yours, messy and sloppy, but hard and deep. Your body reacted to his immediately. You’d missed this part of your relationship, and right now you were grabbing the opportunity with both hands. You frantically unbuttoned his shirt, shred his jeans and boxers down before he pushed you back onto the bed. No foreplay this time. Just erratic breaths mingling, hands touching each other everywhere you could, a sheet of sweat glazing both your bodies as Lando finally pumped himself a few times, wasting no time in thrusting into you in one go, hard. You’d both moaned in unison at the stretch, wrapping your legs around him as tightly as possible while he set a quick pace, fucking in and out of your cunt like he was a man starved. Normally by now lando would be whispered filthy words in your ears, telling how good a slut you were for him, but this time the room was just filled with grunts, moans, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, with the occasional noise of sloppy kisses. ‘Lan’ you moaned, biting down on his shoulder when he moved your lips to his neck. ‘I’m close’ you mumbled feeling him move his fingers down to your core, toying at your clit which sent you over the edge in seconds, your body shuddering beneath him as he picked him his pace, chasing his own high now as you eventually came a second time. At some point, he slid out, climbing off the bed while gripping your ankles tightly to pull you to the edge. He sent one foot back on the bed, one rooted to the ground before thrusting back into you, hands tight on your hips, ramming in and out of you relentlessly. ‘Fuck’ you heard him mutter as his movements started faltering, fingers playing your clit again to push you both over at the same time- him spelling his seed deep into you while you whined under him, body flimsy like jelly as lando collapsed on top of you.

But that was a short lived moment of weirdness, because things soon went back to the new normal straight after that.

Today, we were both to attend a Ralph Lauren event in London. The day had actually been enjoyable for once, unruly tension not filling the air because Max and P had been with you guys since the morning, though P slipped the question to you while getting ready for the event.

‘Hey are you guys okay. Lando’s been so detached from you all day, so unlike him’ he shrugged, eyes glued to yours to gauge your reaction.

You were caught off guard, trying to play it cool so to not give too much away, not face your fears.

‘Yeah we’re good’ you replied. ‘Just one of those days’ you said, turning your attention to smoothening out the cute black dress you had on, glad she didn’t ask anything more.

…

Lando held your hand tightly in front of the cameras, dropping small hints of banter but still not what you were used to, and so as the night went on you kept busy by mingling and a taking in a few glasses of champagne, the nerve to forget about your worries taking over.

Much to your dismay, you caught yourself looking over at Lando more often than not, clenching your thighs together a little tighter each time you look him in. The man looked a dream, so incredibly sexy. And once upon a time, by now you’d have text him to come to the bathroom for a quickie, or rather - he’d have been the one to text you. Not now, though.

You both were now on the plane back to Monaco, well past midnight. The ride back, was tense to say the least. Lando was focused on his phone to while time you tried to make small talk to him.

‘Hmm?’ He’d ask you repeat, holding your gaze for all of 5 seconds before looking down at his phone again.

At some point though, something in his clicked, and he swiftly put his phone away to look at you, in a way that made your heart fall into your stomach.

‘We need to talk’ he said, voice soft.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh with a slight chuckle. ‘Yeah, no shit’ you said, slightly shocked at your reaction, as was he.

‘I just feel like where I’m at with the championship, I need a break’ he said, eyes cold staring back at you.

‘I-a-a-break? From me, you mean?’ You questioned as he nod his head quickly.

‘Why? Why me?’ You asked again when he didn’t speak.

‘Cos you’re always there. Always needy. Just-‘ he sighed. ‘Clingy’

Your breath caught in your throat, tears already slipping down your cheeks. Your head was pounding, too many different thought colliding at once as you tried to ground yourself.

You nodded your head, wiping away at your tears, disbelief that that was his excuse.

‘So for 6 months you’ve strung me along. Made me feel like absolute shit, like I mean fuck all to you - just because I’m clingy?’ You asked.

‘I don’t know. I just know that I need to concentrate on my driving. Not have any distractions. Not have to worry about you needing my attention all the time. Fucks sake. Just need to fucking get away from you honestly.’ He threw at you, making your body instinctively recoil at his words, not knowing who this was in front of you right now.

You knew it was a weak excuse. You were far from clingy. Yes, you treat him how any normal girl would her boyfriend, and in fact, if anyone was clingy in this relationship, it was Lando. It was one his love language, always needing to be close to you, holding or touching you somehow, whether it was when he needed support before a race, after a difficult race weekend, or even at joyous occasions. You were his lifeline. Granted, that’s not how the year so far had been, considering how much he pushed you away, but you weren’t going to allow him to throw you under the bus like this.

‘I don’t believe you. Tell me Lan, for once be honest with me about why you’ve been like this. Why you’ve pushed me away, kept me at arms length’ you threw back albeit your voice cracked about half way through your sentence.

He shrugged. ‘Just feel like I’ve had enough of your shit. You’re suffocating me’ he spat.

You pulled back, arms guarding yourself as more tears stained your cheeks. ‘You don’t mean that’ you stated, voice so soft you weren’t sure if he even heard you.

He chuckled opposite you. ‘Trust me, I mean it. Been keeping this peace, forcing it even. You just don’t excite me anymore. I’m fucking bored’ he said coldly.

‘That’s a new low’ you whispered, more to yourself as you shook, full on trembling in shock.

‘Is it? Or is it just the truth you didn’t wanna hear?’

‘Lando, stop, please’ you begged. You were on a fucking plane, not like you could walk out to protect yourself.

‘Is there someone else?’ You mustered up the courage to ask. Because why else would he drag you down so low?

‘Maybe. And so what if I do? At least she gives me a reason to stay’ he said, jaw tight with his hands fists at his sides.

‘Lando..’ you said his name, quietly, holding so much weight. You wished he’d just apologize, say he was lying, hold you close. But he sat there, arrogant, cocky. Not someone you knew.

By now you needed an out. Your body was on autopilot as you got up from your seat opposite him and made your way to the back of the jet. You heard him mutter something to himself but you couldn’t make out the words.

Was this really happening? Your Lando, being the one causing your heart to break right now? You curled up into a ball, sobbed to yourself.

The rest of the plane ride was silent.

…

It was well past 2pm by the time you’d landed back in Monaco. Calling a cab at this hour would be impossible, and so you had no option but to go home with Lando, in his car.

He was silent as he loaded your baggage into the back of his urus, his jaw clenched and movements rough.

You- sat in your seat, face puffy from all the crying, making an effort to not look at him, knowing it would break you further.

As he drove back, the tension in the car was ungodly, his knuckles white from the steering wheel. This was the smallest you’d ever felt in your relationship and your heart ached at losing Lando.

Back at the penthouse, you grabbed your bags before he had the chance, jolting upstairs and unlocking the door, him trailing behind you.

When you got in, smelt the familiar smell of him-and you-your shared space, the place that once bought you comfort, now, you only felt like a stranger.

You moved past the kitchen to make your way to the bedroom, quickly finding a small bag to pack some overnight clothes.

‘Fucks sake. You’re not going anywhere right now. It’s 3am’ he said, voice hoarse, thick British accent coming through making you jump in your spot.

You ignored him, nothing to say to the man as you carried on grabbing your essentials, new tears gracing your face. You didn’t know where you would go, but you needed to get out of this space.

Taking a minute to find your car keys, you started walking toward the door when he spoke again.

‘Y/n seriously. Where’re you gonna go at this hour?’

For the first time since the lame convo, you looked at him, really looked at him and took him in. His face was softer, anger drifted away, hooded eyes, red rimmed.

You almost would have missed it if you didn’t look long enough.

But it was there.

The guilt.

Just for a fraction of a second though, before he composed himself, stood upright again.

‘Somewhere. Anywhere-away from you’ you said, barely.

He scoffed.

‘You think saying that’s gonna affect me? Make me feel something? God you really are so desperate for me.’ He said, words slicing through your heart as you stood there dumbfounded.

He then stepped closer, voice lower now.

‘It’s exhausting y/n. Pretending. To be happy with you’ he continued.

The silence that followed was blistering as his eyes bored into yours, holding none of that warmth you were used to getting from him.

Eventually, unable to breathe, you nodded.

‘Keep telling yourself that Lan. And let’s never make this mistake again’ you said softly, body starting to tremble before you turned around.

Walked out.

…

Your body was cold, unable to comprehend how the night unfolded. You kept replaying his words the whole time you drove around Monaco multiple times. Why didn’t he just break up with you plain and simple without throwing those words at you? Words that literally felt like they broke your heart in ways you never thought possible. You didn’t know..but you do know you’d lost the love of your life a while ago now, not just tonight.

Y’all IDK where the angst came from but I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #f1 fic #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando smut #lando angst #lando norris angst

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ablobwhowrites · 2 days ago

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You guys what more shredder y/n? Alright so here's more. Throwing my silly y/n to the crowd! Feast on the new content of this silly guy!

(but honestly thank you for loving my silly shredder y/n. I like writing for him.)

I imagine many people wondering who is under the mask but a lot of people try to guess what he looks like but y/n never says anything because he wants to be a intimidating villain to all but kinda isn't but is still threatening because his henchmen can and will kill a person if y/n asked. I do like the idea of a villain saying that he can conquer earth faster if he gets a social media account and does because even though he's weirded out by the villains, he still is kinda friends with them and it might help his plans to conquer earth so he does and I tell you, he's his right hand henchman telling what would be good to help quicken the following in his account and half of the whole world is following shredder y/n's account because it's mainly pictures of y/n but the picture ideas are all their henchmen's ideas.

Shredder y/n: "you know what? You really pissed me off. Henchmen! Kick that man in his shins and throw him in the most disgusting dumpster in Gotham you can find!"

Henchmen: "On it boss!"

I do imagine y/n's henchmen just like being y/n's henchmen cause like y/n sometimes sees his henchmen having bad days and just says to go home or gives them easy jobs for today. Y/n once heard that one of his guys has a very shitty landlord that's been raising the prices that they couldn't afford it anymore so then y/n has some of his goons go out to the landlords place and force them to lower rent and it worked and then y/n took control of the building for a while and it was nice also I do imagine they have some bad shit crazy henchmen who will kill and y/n kinda has to specifically tell them not to unless needed which is never but it kinda spooks y/n a bit.

Also when y/n has to have his armor and clothes dry cleaned, he kinda goes around in his secret base in a bathrobe and slippers but keeps the helmet and mask on. Y/n also is still kinda a unofficial hero as he tries to hide away from the heros because if he is caught then he'll get dragged back to the justice league Headquarters because y/n technically escape his villain 'rehabilitation' from Wayne manor and once y/n did go to Arkham asylum but escaped shortly after cause their henchmen came to get him so it was like a hour y/n was there.

When y/n was at the Wayne manor, he helped Alfred do chores and other stuff around the manor. Y/n didn't like how some of the batfamily didn't clean around and somehow get everyone to clean as it surprised Alfred that y/n even got Bruce to help and also y/n wore those frilly aprons (y/n also has shredders muscles because look at 1987 shredder dude. Bro is wearing skin tight black tights and probably top to show the muscles dude.)

Shredder y/n: "Tremble before me! I am your soon to be ruler of earth!"

Random civilian: "Man what I wouldn't do to have one night with him."

Henchmen slowly looks at the civilian: "...Can you fucking not?"

Shredder y/n went missing once and everyone tried to find them but ended up being found by Batman as y/n was kidnapped by killed croc who was basically cuddling with y/n but y/n was trying for hours to get out of his grip and was saved by Batman but then taken to the justice league.

Henchman: "Here's your large Dr pepper, boss."

Shredder y/n: "Yes, finally. Now leave me to my evil affairs." *Closed door*

2# Henchman: "Man what evil stuff is he doing?"

Henchman: "Probably something so evil that not even we can see it."

*Shredder playing hello kitty island adventure* "Damnit hello kitty, I already gave melody a strawberry! She doesn't want anymore today!"

Y/n has a whole PC set up in his room that he plays when there's no evil plans that day. Y/n gets presents for the batfamily and some of the heros and villains during Christmas as he definitely didn't steal them cause don't find the small tear that definitely didn't have a security tag on it.

(Anyways that's it for today! Hopefully you guys like this and if you do please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

Tag list: @mazixxss

#yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #dc x male reader #dc x reader #dc #yandere justice league #justice league x male reader #justice league x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere batman #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #male reader #yandere x darling

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faerytale-wings · 14 hours ago

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Well the first thing he said to me this morning was "The Prophecy has been fulfilled!" and followed up by asking if this means someone needs to cast another "Curse of 10k notes" for it to keep going.

I assured him that as people in the notes have already predicted 20k and 100k, as well as a couple of people declaring this a Future Heritage Post, that was already covered.

And as someone in the tags has declared that he has Won Tumblr, he has taken this to heart and decided that he definitely doesn't need to make his own Tumblr account, and will be Retiring Undefeated.

(you know, at least until he finds something else silly he would like me to post for him)

As an aside, he has also informed me that while he is enjoying everyone in the tags saying what a good egg he is (and they're right!) he is also now growing concerned that the bar is just....really low. He's worried about you guys now.

Husband called me into the bedroom to show me the tag on our mattress cover, he was very proud.

“This seems like something tumblr will like! It’ll get you all the notes…ReTumbls? It’ll get you all the ReTumbls.”

#ReTumbling #he still has it opened on his second monitor btw #i'm honestly surprised he hasnt made a spreadsheet with his favorite tags yet #he loves spreadsheets

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cosmoszyn · 17 hours ago

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zayne with a five-year-old daughter who loves carrots.

in fact, her absolute favorite—the one she looks forward to every single meal as her current hyperfixation.

as his wife, you try not to feed him meals that consists of what he calls an abomination of a vegetable. but as the mother of his daughter, however, you knew her nutrition comes first and your husband’s pickiness comes second.

so when dinner rolled around serving your two sweethearts some curry, you can’t help but always be amused by the scene across you.

zayne picking apart his food, setting aside the carrots while your daughter reaches over to his side and jabs into the vegetables using her fork all the while conversing with each other.

“and then daddy she turned into a silly red panda! but she didn’t tell her mommy at first…” your daughter babbles, licking the sauce off the crevices of the carrot.

“why didn’t she?” zayne muses, scraping another one onto the side of his plate.

your daughter takes a big bite of the vegetable before standing from her chair again, one hand propped on the dinner table and reaching over to the discarded food from her father’s plate.

“i dun’ know…” your daughter mumbles a reply, her tongue sticking out from the corner of her lips in concentration as she attempts to prick onto the carrot. zayne watches her focus on her mission with a slight tug on his lips, trusting that she will complete her task successfully.

and when she manages to pierce through the vegetable, a large grin forms in her face, “but i think she was scared of her mommy, daddy,” your daughter finally replies.

zayne hums, watching her stare at the carrot with awe. you can’t help but return the gesture to your small family. your hand reaches over to zayne’s, lightly clasping over it.

“zayne, honey, are you sure she’s your daughter? she’s looking at that carrot the same way she looks at you,” you ask with that teasing lilt.

your husband turns to you with that deadpanned expression you’ve accustomed with when you say something absurd.

but before he can even provide his usual remark, your daughter exclaims, “daddy is my daddy! he needs to eat carrots too!”

now how is he supposed to reject the love of his life like that…

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catssluvr · 1 day ago

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long day, abby anderson

roommate!abby anderson x fem!reader

in which roommate abby comes home after a long day at work and relishes in the comfort of your presence.

warnings: just fluff, idiots in love tbh

₊˚⊹⋆

Abby lets out a deep sigh as she closes the door behind her, relaxing at the chill air that envelopes around her. She drops her heavy bag on the floor, feeling her shoulder immediately less tense.

She hears your hums coming from the kitchen, paired with the sound of you stirring a pot and a delicious smell.

Leaving her shoes next to yours, she makes sure to make a little noise as she walks towards the kitchen to make sure you don't get startled.

"Abs?" You ask, resuming the stirring.

"Hey, i'm home." She answers, peaking into the kitchen and forcing a smile just for you.

"Hey." You smile sweetly, “How was your day?” Turning back to the stove as to not burn the whole dinner.

Abby grunts, not quite sure of what the best answer could be. “It was fine.” She settles on saying.

“Just fine?” You raise your eyebrows, well aware she has had a bad day by now. Approaching her, you reach one finger up to rub at the spot between her brows, successfully relaxing her frown.

“Thank you.” She hums, fighting the urge to pull you into the tightest hug possible. But it dies down as soon as she becomes aware of how sweaty she is.

“You can go take a shower while i finish up dinner.” You suggest, squeezing her bicep softly before going back to your cooking.

“I can help you first.” She says, too tired to express how glad she is you thought about her for dinner.

“Don’t be silly.” You shoot her a look, scrunching your nose before playfully adding. “You stink.”

“Jerk.” Abby rolls her eyes affectionately before lightly shoving your arm, giving in to the temptation of a very cold shower.

She’s quick to get rid of her sweaty clothes as soon as the bedroom door closes behind her, rushing to the bathroom to get under the shower.

Putting on a white tank top and her comfiest black shorts, she forces herself down the stairs. Tired from the long day she went through but eager to have you brighten her mood.

You’re settling the plates full of pasta down in the living room when she reaches the bottom of the stairs, having already turned the ac on and set the couch with the comfiest pillows and blankets.

Something warm fills her chest.

“Hey.” She says quietly, making her presence known.

“Don’t you look all soft, uh?” You tease, grin pulling at your lips as you throw yourself on the couch and pat the spot next to you.

“You think i always look soft.” She states, quite familiarized with the adjective already.

“That i do.” You push the plate onto her hands as soon as she settles next to you. “What are we thinking?” You pick up the remote.

“Comedy, please.” She sighs, pulling the hoodie that you definitely didn’t leave on the couch on purpose and putting it on so that it engulfs her in a warm hug.

You hum, picking one of your favorite shows before digging into the pasta.

You don’t speak for a moment, too busy savoring the food and thinking about the right things to do to make sure Abby forgets all about her bad day.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You settle on asking, cheek squished against the pillows as you eye her carefully.

“Hm?” Her look is slightly dazed, eyes droopy with sleep in a way that makes you feel guilty for ruining her peace. “No, don’t worry.”

“You know i do.” You answer just as lowly as her. “How ‘bout a hug?” You offer.

Abby nods rather eagerly, shuffling closer until she can sluggishly throw her arms around your torso.

You giggle as she buries her nose in your neck, her soft hair tickling your cheek in a rather nice way. You wrap your arms around her shoulders, squeezing extra hard when she sighs happily.

The hug extends for more than usual and that’s enough for you to know this is all she needs. And you’re not about to let go of her.

Moving until you’re in a more comfortable laying position, you let her lay practically on top of you. Her legs slot between yours and her head stays comfortably tucked under your chin as you turn your attention back to the tv like nothing happened.

Abby lets out a soft yawn, warm breath against your jaw making you almost melt on the spot.

You watch her fight sleep, eyes blinking slower and slower.

“You can sleep if you want, Abs.” You whisper, careful not to move wrong and accidentally make her more awake.

“No, wanna spend time with you.” She practically pouts, eyes wet from sleepiness.

“We can do that later.” You reassure, hand brushing through her hair.

She hums, quickly persuasive as always when it comes to you.

You’re not sure about whatever this means, but it feels better not to question it and enjoy the moment. Besides, cuddling with your roommate can’t be that weird. It doesn’t feel weird, at least.

“Night.” You hear her whisper before the sound of her tiny yawns fill your ears.

“Night, Abs.” Your voice is just as low as you reply.

You muster the courage to press your lips to her temple, relieved when she seems to smile at it in her sleep.

Definitely soft.

#abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby tlou #wlw #tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us

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mabelmiller · 1 day ago

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Hello, I'm here with an extremely long comment full of too many pictures and quotes, because what a fucking fic 🥵❤️

“Hey.” Joel tilts his head and squints. “That my record crate?”

“...yeah.”

“So where are my records?”

“The floor, I guess,” you answer quietly.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I fucking love pumpkin ❤️ I love her so much. I want to give her a big fat forehead kiss and make her a cup of hot chocolate.

There’s a strange feeling that comes with punching out the window’s screen. You’ve done it before and faced the consequences, god. That awful day in the forest, being hunted down by Joel with Tommy’s dog. Joel terrorized the living fucking daylights out of you that day, scared you from ever pulling that shit again. But here you are, climbing out the window, just as you did before. You remember the mistakes you made that led you to Joel finding you. You wouldn’t make them again.

I love this so much, because all it took was one paragraph to immediately out me as both a complete marshmallow and a masochist lol. Because on one hand, I love the concept of dark daddy joel being dark and doing fucked up shit and reminding us why he's earned that title and I'm so intrigued by the idea of seeing him like that. On the other hand I also know I would be reading this thinking, "pumpkin is just a baby, and I'm just a baby, you can't be mean to a little baby 🥺" if he starts to get too mean, even though I was just mentally encouraging all that meanness. It's like I ask someone to slap me and then immediately curl up in a ball so they can't do it. It feels kind of silly and very contradictory, but I also love when I read something that can expose those feelings. That's when you know you're reading something really good.

“Lil’ deeper now, honey. All the way down. I know your daddy raised ya better’n that, huh?”

You pull off of Tommy, a string of saliva that connects him towards your lips breaking. “Daddy doesn’t make me take him all the way,” you tell Tommy.

Tommy shrugs, makes a face. “But you ain’t suckin’ your daddy’s cock right now, are ya, girlie?” He positions himself back at your mouth, then begins pushing in. “Uncle Tommy plays by different rules.”

This is so fucking delicious and perfect and UGH

I need weekly play dates with uncle tommy ❤️

Joel ignores you and drags you by the arm into your bedroom, where he sits on your bed. He forces you over his knee and tugs your shorts and panties down your ass, ripping them a little in the process. That fragile, old fabric.

See, this paragraph, on the other hand, this just outed me as a masochist full stop. Maybe it's because it's all about getting spanked and I'm a big ol slut for impact play, but this part really just had me like

Joel tilts his head, frowning, intrigued. “In there?” he asks, tapping gently where your heart beats and you nod, sniffling. “Oh, not at all, sweet girl. You’re not bad,” he says. He dabs some antibiotic ointment on one of the deeper scratches on your thighs, then covers it all with some gauze. “Not by a longshot. I think you’re trouble, Pumpkin, but you’re the furthest goddamn thing from bad. I love that heart of yours.”

Ugh, HE'S SO SWEET. He's so mean but also so sweet in his own way and I love him so much 🥺 grumpy old man ❤️

I am a liiiiiiiiiittle worried about him potentially finding out pumpkin lied about how she got out, though. As sweet as he is here, I don't even wanna think about how pissed off he'll get if he finds out how she got out, and that lied she kept lying to him about it. I don't know if you've read/watched Misery, the Stephen King book, but that was where my mind immediately went lol, and I don't know if I can handle if daddy goes full Annie Wilkes lol 😭

(Also I hope this doesn't come across as me trying to tell you where to go with the story or what to do, or to not go as dark as you want to! This is just me being a baby and being overly concerned for your characters because I love them. But I will forever support you writing exactly what you wanna write!)

“Ahh, Snoopy. My bad.” Joel rests one hand behind his head, then scratches the kitten with the other. “Thing’s fuckin’ ugly,” Joel mumbles, using just one finger to tickle the creator. “Pretty screwed up lookin’ dog f’ya ask me, Punk’n.”

I fucking love Joel's grumpy dad comments about Snoopy ❤️ and I absolutely love that while he's grumbling about this adorable little kitten, Pumpkin is just unconcerned, asking him (or maybe telling him is more accurate) to build a cat tree for Snoopy (who 100% deserves a cat tree, he's probably the best kitter in the entire world)

All in all, I know I'm fangirling a lot and this is maybe way more rambling with silly pictures than anyone needs, but I just really want you to know how much I enjoy your writing, and how much joy these characters give me (even if I do also worry about pumpkin lying more than she should and joel being too mean.) It's such a treat to get to read your work, and I'm forever grateful that you share it with the world ❤️

Kitten Fur

Tommy takes a deep breath, groaning as his cock stirs in his denim. “S’just a big secret to keep,” he says. Tommy continues, “An’ I can keep quiet for ya, but I gotta know what’s in it for me, right? S’all I’m askin’.”

You can’t get anything past Joel, but that won’t stop you from trying.

Tags - one shot, smut, unprotected piv, creampies, uncle tommy blowjobs/facefucking, cum swallowing, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking/violence, Joel gets dark, then comforts you, cat scratches, wound care, coercion/manipulation/blackmail, dark/icky daddy themes, daddy kink, dark fluff, girthy legal age gap. 8.5k words. A/N - thanks for all the love and patience 🩷🫂 thank you L who edited, i love you sweet friend

The flowers are blooming nicely.

In the spring, when the snow was all but melted, dirty and icy on the brown grass, you were depressed. It was still cold outside and there wasn’t much to do. Joel took you out to pick out some seeds, give you something to care for, to keep yourself busy. Touching soil - it’s good for a person, you know?

You water Joel’s flowers first: roses, daisies, tulips, and his favorite, lilies. There are honey bees buzzing about, worms wiggling through the soil. You like your flowers better, your snapdragons and gardenias. You love how your honeysuckle smells, so sweet and sugary you could almost taste it.

Joel joins you in your shared garden, wearing a gray t-shirt and some weathered jeans. His curls are combed back, and he looks handsome in the sunlight. He reaches up and pulls a birdfeeder off of the hook of a post that’s taller than you can reach and fills it with seed, then fills a hanging glass container with sugar water for the hummingbirds.

Joel dampens a rag with some oil and runs it along the metal post, top to bottom, all the way up and down.

“What’re you doing, Daddy?”

“Tryin’ somethin’ out…” Joel puts the cap back on the bottle of oil. “Gonna see if this won’t keep away the goddamn squirrels.”

“I like the squirrels.”

“I know you do, Pumpkin, but they’re stealin’ all my birdseed.”

You make a face. “Maybe I’ll put peanut butter out or something for them, then. So they don’t steal your birdseed.”

“Oh, will ya?” Joel sounds less than impressed. The critters are giving you trouble too, snacking on your flowers you’ve worked so hard to grow. You don’t mind, though. It’s a joy to watch them frolic through the garden, chasing each other. You like seeing familiar faces, but your favorite part is seeing the babies. If you’re quiet, and if you’re lucky, you’ll catch glimpses of the sweet baby animals.

Like you’re doing right now. Under the rocking swing you and Joel sway on is a little black kitten, hanging out all alone. It’s cleaning itself, pink tongue darting out to lick its paw before swiping it over its ears. “Joel - Daddy,” you hiss urgently, tugging on Joel’s shirt.

“What is it, Punk’n?”

“Shh.” Joel makes a face in mock offense that disappears when you point to the kitten, and then he tilts his head. “Ahh. Kitty cat, huh?”

“Mhm. Can we bring it inside?”

Joel sighs. “No, sweetheart.”

Ouch. He’s inspecting his work, considering if petroleum jelly might be a better move. Those fuckers are crafty. “Hon, do we still have some Vasel - oh, don’t you give me that look.”

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows. “M’not giving you a look.”

Joel knows better than to get into an argument with you about whether or not you’re giving him a “look”. He’s learned to pick and choose his battles with you, and he’ll gladly lose that one, but this one, absolutely not.

“Honey, he’s probably got worms an’ fleas and whatnot. He can’t come inside, baby.”

“But it’s hot out,” you argue. “And - he’s black.”

“Look at ‘im,” Joel says, pointing to the kitten, which is now laying in a shady patch of dirt. “He’s coolin’ off in the shade. He’s alright, sweet pea. Look - why don’t ya go an’ play with him, okay? Tell him ‘bout what a mean old man I am. I’m gonna go make us some lunch.”

“I’m really not hungry.”

“Ya really are,” Joel says, parroting your tone. He gives your shoulder two quick squeezes and heads inside to make you both some sandwiches, give you some time to spook the kitten and get your mind un-addled from this thing before you’re in too deep. He hopes that this stray will keep its distance from you, letting you know itself that it wants nothing to do with you. Tough love, Pumpkin.

You approach the kitten slowly, who looks defensive at first. Eyes all wide and alert, on edge. You sit down gently, careful not to make any sudden movements, and hold out your hand for the kitten to sniff. You wonder what it is. Joel kept calling it a he.

The kitten sniffs you cautiously, tickling your skin with its quick little breaths. It seems to approve of you and rubs its cheek along your finger, tail curling left and right. “Hi, kitty,” you smile, using one digit to scratch the kitten right between its ears. You pluck a dandelion and wiggle it in front of the animal, giggling as it bats at the flower. “Shit,” you swear when it scratches you.

The little kitten climbs into your lap and purrs happily at you, letting you scratch its little body all over. You lift it for a moment to raise its tail and take a peek, and yep, Joel was right. “You are definitely a dude,” you laugh.

Joel pushes the curtain of the kitchen window to the side to look at you and the kitten. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head when he sees you smiling, as beautiful as that is, watching your little friend chase a white butterfly. He cuts your sandwich on the diagonal per your standing request, then slides open the window and calls your name. “Lunchtime,” he says.

You come walking, and Joel opens the door for you, stopping you before you can make it inside. “Ah, ah. Put the damn cat back outside. Nice fuckin’ try, kiddo.”

It was worth a shot. You set the kitten down, mumbling something Joel can’t hear, and you’d better thank your lucky stars for that. The fuckin’ mouth on you, Jesus…

“Wash up. Soap an’ water.”

After washing, you sit at the table with Joel, eating your sandwich. He made an extra for himself, but you’re still working on your first half. You swallow a bite of food, sip your water. “I didn’t see any fleas on him but I’m gonna give him a bath,” you tell Joel casually.

“Uh huh, good luck with that.” Joel takes another bite of his sandwich. “An’ then what?”

“Then…I think I’m gonna keep him.”

“Yeah? That so?”

“Yep.”

You eat the rest of your first sandwich, feeling Joel’s eyes on you in the quiet room, the tension hovering like fog. You know your choice of words was bold. Gonna. A choice you made on your own.

“Pumpkin.”

You pull at a loose string on your shorts.

“Look at me,” Joel says, “‘Fore you get any ideas,” and you look at him. “No. You are not gettin’ a cat.”

“Why?” you whine, dragging out the syllable.

“Because,” he explains, “Y’eat me outta house an’ home already. I don’t need another mouth to feed.”

“But I’ll take care of him!”

Joel scoffs, then sucks food off of his thumb. “Yeah, you’ll take care of him?”

“I take care of my flowers,” you shoot back. “And yours.”

Joel gives you a look, lips pulled in a frown and his eyebrows raised. You’re testing him, and by god you’ve got him, sharp fucking girl. “Uh huh. When’s the last time you did your chores, huh? Dishes? Remember those?”

You cross your arms and push your plate away, upset with the direction of this conversation.

“And you’re tellin’ me you’re gonna keep up with a cat? Scoop his shit out of a litter box? I don’t think so, darlin’.”

You look at Joel, then back at your plate. And back to Joel again, who’s still staring you down. He’s not budging, and you don’t think you’ll be able to get him to, either. Finally, you sigh in defeat. You lean forward and rest your head in your hands, frowning.

“Oh, enough with the poutin’. He’s got a mama who’s gonna come lookin’ for him anyway, right?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. You don’t think so.

“Look, honey,” Joel says, “You can go out there an’ play with him as much as you want, but he’s stayin’ outside. That’s my compromise.”

Compromise. Joel’s been trying to work on that, little by little. The give and take of it all. He’s got you tied on a short leash and he knows that, so he’s been trying to give you more freedoms and privileges here and there.

As soon as Joel says it, you’re out the door with your other half of the sandwich. You find the kitten right where you left it and you tear off little bits of chicken and bread, watching as the kitten happily eats. All those little noises it makes, its little ears wiggling. Joel follows behind you, then stands with his arms crossed as the scene plays in front of him.

“What?”

Joel raises his eyebrows.

“It’s my sandwich, Daddy. And I’m not even hungry.” Lie.

“You know damn well what, sweetheart. He can fend for himself.”

You ignore Joel, and feed the kitten a little more food.

“Fine. You can fend for yourself. Don’t come whinin’ at me when you’re hungry later.” Joel spins around and heads for the kitchen to rinse off the plates, keeping a watchful eye on you as you play with your little friend.

Joel watches you spend the entire day with the little guy, and how gorgeous you look lying in the grass in your shorts and pink shirt, teasing the kitten with sticks and flowers. You lie on your back and cover your eyes with your forearm, and the kitten curls up on your chest, the both of you basking in the sun for an afternoon nap. Joel loves these sounds of your sweet giggle, your real giggle. But you, sweet fucking girl, are going to break your own damn heart.

When Joel calls you in for supper hours later, he has to stop you from sneaking the kitten into the house under your shirt. He tells you you’re walking funny, and you tell him your back hurts. When Joel calls bullshit, you tell him that he walks funny when his back hurts too, Daddy.

You don’t make it far before Joel has you putting the kitten back outside. You and Joel eat in silence, and he notices you staring out the window, your eyes following the kitten the whole time. He also notices the food you hide in your cloth napkin.

“I don’t see his mama,” you mumble.

“She’s out there, honey.”

You don’t like that you can’t see the kitten when the sun goes down. Anxiety nags at you as Joel reads to you while rocking in his chair. You’ve hardly paid attention to the story.

Joel yawns loudly, stretching his back as he does so, then puts his heavy hand on top of your head. “Ohh, I’m beat, baby. Let’s go to bed,” he says, gently scratching your scalp. You melt under his touch for a moment before he’s patting your ass, urging you up. You slide off of his lap first, then spin around and offer him your hands. Joel groans as you try to pull him up, deliberately making you do the lion’s share of the effort. It makes you both laugh. C

You follow Joel toward the stairs, but stop as he continues up. “Daddy?”

“What-y?”

“Can I have like, five more minutes?”

“Whatcha need to do?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, lying, and Joel knows it, too.

“Uh huh. No funny business, Pumpkin.”

You head back for the living room and open Joel’s blanket chest to retrieve an afghan for the kitten. You take Joel’s vinyls out of the crate they sit in and place them neatly on the floor, careful not to break anything. It’s not like Joel will care, right? He doesn’t even use his turntable.

Although…Uncle Tommy might. He likes to play music when he sneaks over and plays with you.

Outside, you set up a little bed for the kitten, and you leave food scraps out for him, too. You call for him, making kissy noises and pss pss pssing into the dark. You’re relieved when he comes running and snacks on the meal you’ve made for him, and you take care to make sure he likes the blanket you’ve picked. It takes him some time to get comfortable. “I can get you a different blanket, bud–”

“Pumpkin!” Joel shouts with his mouth full of toothpaste through the screen window above.

“Coming, Daddy!”

But you don’t. Joel can picture the scene as he spits out his toothpaste and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, you tickling that flea-ridden cat. He goes downstairs in his pajamas and joins you outside, watching with his arms crossed as you care for your fuzzy little friend.

“Hey.” Joel tilts his head and squints. “That my record crate?”

“...yeah.”

“So where are my records?”

“The floor, I guess,” you answer quietly. Joel rolls his eyes, then snaps and points to the door. “Gonna throttle you, kid. Alright. You kiss your little buddy goodnight and get your ass upstairs. S’bedtime.”

Joel watches you tenderly kiss the kitten, right on its forehead and between its ears that are a little too big for its head yet. He ushers you inside with a hand on your lower back, and he gets snapped at by you when he closes the door too loudly. When he kisses you on the forehead and whispers to you goodnight, he knows what’s running through that restless mind of yours. “Hey,” he murmurs. “He’s gonna be alright, okay?”

You check on the kitten every morning and night, and you spend the majority of your days with him as long as he’s around. Joel watched you empty an ice tray into a bowl once, rolling his eyes as you filled it at the sink. “I’m just making sure he has water,” you said.

“Uh huh. Does he really need ice water, Pumpkin?”

“It’s his favorite, Daddy.”

Because he likes to bat around the ice cubes. He paws at them and splashes around a little, then licks his paws.

You gave him a name after about a week. Snoopy. It just fit the little guy.

Joel says goodbye to you one morning, telling you that he’s stopping at the market to pick up some eggs real quick, but that he’ll let you stay outside while he’s gone. It’s only a few minutes anyway, and Joel knows you’re fixated on your little friend. You won’t be getting up to much trouble, so he gives you this inch. “Been goin’ through ‘em awful quick. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would ya, Pumpkin?”

“Mm-mm,” you lie, holding a handful of scrambled eggs behind your back as Joel kisses you on the cheek. “Can you get feathers, though? From the chickens? I want to make him some toys.”

Joel rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but he returns to you with feathers anyway. You’re a very crafty girl, fashioning some sort of teaser toy out of said feathers and a stick. Joel notices the kitten’s been getting bigger.

You and Snoopy have a whole routine. Every morning when you greet him, you sing his name. “Snooopyyyy,” you call, and Snoopy emerges from his crate or a patch of flowers. “Big stretch,” you’ll smile, watching as the kitten leans back on his paws, then forward, wiry little tail flinching while he yawns. Snoopy sings back to you as he greets you, and he’s got the sweetest, chirpiest little meow.

You’ll spend the afternoons playing with him, and when he tires, he naps on you while you read or doodle or something. Sometimes you’ll bring a blanket outside and nap in the grass with him, enjoying the smell of his sunlight-warmed kitten fur. His eyes are turning green now. They were blue when you first met him.

If Joel’s not home, you’ll sit by the window and play with him through the screen. You wish he’d stop locking the fucking doors. There hasn’t been an incident in a long time, but Joel says that trust has to be earned. But he also says you’re getting there, though…he’s been saying that for a while, hasn’t he.

Joel makes a deal with you. He stops arguing about you sneaking the kitten your dinner and instead prepares Snoopy-sized portions on a small dish so long as you eat well and take care of your chores without Joel asking you to. It seems to be working well.

But Joel still won’t budge on letting Snoopy stay. No cats, he says.

You kiss Snoopy goodnight each night, wishing so badly you could go to sleep with him safe in your arms instead.

You haven’t seen such an ugly sky in so long. The clouds are green and purple like shades of bruised skin, a front rolling in quickly. You felt iffy all day when it was just gray and teasing a storm, but the storm’s here, now.

It looks bad. There’s lightning and thunder, though it’s not yet begun to rain. Wind blowing through the screen knocks over papers in Joel’s house. Snoopy’s not by the window with you, and you can’t quite see him, but you can hear him. The kitten cries in anxiety, all alone as he hides from the storm. God, you fucking hate this. You call out to him and promise him that everything’s okay, but it probably does little to comfort the creature.

Everything’s worse after the first few drops of rain pour from the sky. It begins pouring, then stops for a second. You mop up the mess inside with a towel. There’s a ping…ping…ping, ping against the gutters, hail then slamming against the side of the house as thunder roars. They’re large pieces of hail, too, and you worry Snoopy’ll get hurt, or worse as the storm escalates. Jackson saves its alarms for infected only, so there’s no way for you to know what’s ahead.

You try opening a door. Then another, and another. Joel’s locked them all at multiple points.

Thunder claps and snaps you out of your train of thought. Snoopy cries and you run to him, he’s hidden under his blanket in his crate. Rain soaks you as you run to him and quickly gather him, ignoring his frightened scratching as you hide him under your clothes. What compels you back inside is Snoopy’s safety more than your own, truth be told.

You drip water onto Joel’s floors as you slam the glass window shut, then quickly bring Snoopy up to your room. The kitten is drenched, the same as you. He’s shivering and scared and you are too, but you dry him off before you dry yourself. You create a safe, warm space for him under your bed, which he seems to appreciate. He stays hidden as the storm rages on.

With Snoopy safe, you head back downstairs to assess the damage. The screen has blown halfway across Joel’s yard, so you open the window and sprint after it to fetch it. You are so deeply fucked if Joel sees what you did to his window - the screen is broken and coming apart, and you couldn’t begin to figure out how to fit it back into the window. Especially not in this storm.

“I’ll always come and getcha if you’re in a jam,” Uncle Tommy had told you once, like he was your guardian angel or something. He whispered it, actually, and tapped your nose with his long, thick finger. Wearing that crooked smirk of his, his eyes sparkling with something darker than mischievous.

“No questions asked?”

“Don’t know about that,” Tommy replied. “But if ya need me, sweetheart, I’m there. I know what it’s like to be your age, to find yourself in all sorts’a dicey fuckin’ situations.”

“Did you get in trouble a lot?”

“Sure did, honey.”

“What’d you do?”

Tommy chuckled and swiped at his nose, then shook his head. “Ohhh, darlin’. All kinds of shit a sweet girl like you don’t need to know a goddamn thing about.”

You think now’s about as good a time as ever to get Uncle Tommy and help yourself out of this jam you’re in. You race to his house through the storm, exhilarated as it’s the first time you’ve been out like this since…you don’t even know when. It feels fucking good.

You pound on Tommy’s door, praying to god he’s home and lucky for you, he is. You barely stutter out an explanation before you’re grabbing his hand and leading him back to Joel’s, then showing him the screen you need him to fix. “Jesus, girl. Your daddy’s gonna beat ya black and blue, you know that?”

“I know. I need your help,” you tell him. “Please, Uncle Tommy.”

Tommy picks up the screen and opens the door, then gestures for you to move inside. “You up to no good?” he asks, only to be met with no answer. “I ain’t helpin’ ‘less you tell me what crime exactly it is that you’re makin’ me a goddamn accomplice of.”

“Fine. I’ll show you.”

“Show me, huh.” Uncle Tommy follows you up the stairs and into your room, where he takes in everything. The books you read, the clothes you wear, the locked window. The baby monitor Joel turns on at night.

You lift your bedskirt and scratch the floor, and out comes Snoopy. Cautiously, as he’s still frightened by the storm. You scoop him up in your hands and bring him to Tommy, who scratches the kitten between its ears. “This is Snoopy,” you introduce, “He’s been my friend for a while but Joel - Daddy won’t let me have a pet.”

“Mm,” Tommy hums, now scratching beneath the kitten’s chin. He can fill in the blanks himself - you broke out to rescue this kitten from the big bad storm, and now you need him to cover your tracks. “You sit tight and I’ll see what I can do, sweetheart.”

Tommy leaves you to go clean your mess. It’s an easy enough fix - staple the screen back into its frame, then fit the entire thing into the window. He could do it in his sleep.

He calls you downstairs to inspect his handiwork, make sure everything’s to your liking, and it’s as good as new. “Well, whaddaya say, kiddo?”

You push on the screen, smiling in both relief and mischief. It thrills you to get away with this, to have this little secret of your own. That alone is an accomplishment when Joel keeps you under the microscope the way he does, isn’t it? You don’t have much that’s just…yours. Joel takes it all from you.

“Thank you,” you grin, wrapping your arms around Tommy’s strong middle. You squeeze him so tightly and he hugs you back, kissing the top of your head while stroking your back.

“S’what I’m here for, darlin’. Always got your back,” he murmurs softly, then clicks his tongue. “Your daddy’s a fuckin’ hard ass, ain’t he?”

“He–” you stop yourself from continuing. Tommy laughs at that.

“You can say it, hon. Not gonna snitch on ya.”

“He’s a hard ass, yeah,” you laugh, and it feels good to get it off your chest. It’s hard to talk about Joel in that way when he tells you that he’s always right, and when he punishes you for questioning him. Daddy knows what’s best for ya, Pumpkin. Ungrateful ass spoiled fuckin’ brat. He gave you life and he can take it away, you know. Keep fucking testing, watch what happens. And quit with the fuckin’ waterworks before he gives you somethin’ to really cry about.

Tommy laughs too, swaying you from side to side in his warm embrace. It goes quiet, the only sound in the room being the rain splashing against the windows. It’s all but died completely.

“Guessin’ you’re wantin’ Uncle Tommy to keep quiet about this too, then, huh?” he asks quietly, pointing to the window. “Yeah?”

“Please,” you answer.

Tommy takes a deep breath, groaning as his cock stirs in his denim. “S’just a big secret to keep is all,” he says. Tommy continues, “An’ I can keep quiet for ya, but I gotta know what’s in it for me, right? S’all I’m askin’.”

You pull away, brows pinched in concern. Tommy shrugs and grins in a very matter-of-fact way, putting his hands in his front pockets. “C’mon. Fair’s fair, ain’t it? I do a lil’ somethin’ for you, you do a lil’ somethin’ for me?”

“What - what am I supposed to do for you?”

Tommy chuckles darkly. “What do you think, girlie?” He reaches for your hand and presses your palm against his bulge, sighing softly at the pressure. Even like this, you can feel just how big he is. “Got such a pretty mouth, sweet pea,” Tommy says, reaching for your face. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and gives it a little pull, smirking in his wolfish way. “Why don’tcha get on your knees f’me?”

You kneel so pretty, Tommy thinks as he unbuckles his belt. He pushes some hair out of your face with one hand, then frees his cock using the other, resting his hefty balls on top of the elastic waistband of his boxers. His cock is too big and heavy to slap against his stomach, and bobs with the weight of itself. He holds it between his thumb and forefingers, guiding the tip toward your mouth. “Gimme a kiss, honey,” he says, pushing himself toward you.

His cock is so warm against your lips as you kiss him, and he smells so musky, slightly bitter. His pubic hair is less gray than Joel’s is, but getting there. It’s about as overgrown, though. And he’s markedly thicker than Joel is, though maybe not as long. He’s a fucking choking hazard, is what he is.

You’re happy to take Uncle Tommy’s cock in your mouth, truthfully, even if the whole act caught you off guard. It’s just another way to pull one over on Joel, after all. You’d probably be in big trouble if he knew what you were up to. Good thing he’ll never find out, huh?

You swirl your tongue around Tommy’s thick head, running your tongue over his wet slit, tasting that little bit of prejack that’s beaded there. Tommy holds your face with one of his large hands, stroking softly at your skin as you peer up at him. Uncle Tommy looks like nothing good for you, and you can’t help but feel absolutely intrigued by that. He’s the knife you do tricks with, the matches you play with.

You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Don’t you tease me, sweet pea. Ain’t nice.”

You part your lips and take his head into your mouth, then bob yourself on his length, about halfway or less. Tommy watches you, waiting to see if you’ll work your way down, nose buried into his thick patch of hair. “Ahem,” he clears his throat, “Lil’ deeper now, honey. All the way down. I know your daddy raised ya better’n that, huh?””

You pull off of Tommy, a string of saliva that connects him to your lips breaking. “Daddy doesn’t make me take him all the way,” you tell Tommy.

Tommy takes the reins here. Hand on the back of your head, forcing his way deeper down your throat. He’s not a brute about it, of course. He’s gentle, but firm, pushing his cock inch by inch into your warm, wet, welcoming mouth. He hushes you when you gag, choking on his girth. “Slow down an’ catch your breath,” he says. “Through your nose. M’not goin’ nowhere.”

His words soothe you. There’s a bit of panic that comes with him being so deep down your throat, but Tommy’s generous enough to give you the time to get used to him. Once you stop squirming, stop making those silly, cockdumb noises he loves so much, Tommy pulls out. And he pushes back in, and pulls out again. He repeats this until he’s steadily fucking your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. It’s less of something you do for him and more so something he does to you, reminding you of exactly who’s standing and who’s kneeling, here.

“Open wide,” he tells you. “Quickly, darlin’.” Tommy pulls out of your mouth and jerks his cock furiously, sticking his tongue out at you to indicate what he wants you to do. You follow suit, and Tommy paints you in his load, all over your tongue and the back of your throat. “And swallow. That’s it, honey. Good girl.”

You stand up, knees aching slightly. Tommy wipes a bit of his cum off your lip, then pushes it into your mouth. With a twinkle in his eye, he motions like he’s zipping his lips sealed; locks the key and tosses it over his shoulder and winks. “Pleasure doin’ business with ya, sweetheart, as always.”

And he’s off.

A week later, and you cannot fucking believe you got away with it. This kitten…god, what a clever, beautiful creature he is. Snoopy knows when to hide. He stays quiet, never arouses Joel’s suspicions. You’ve got a litter box filled with sand in an inconspicuous spot and you clean it daily, always when Joel’s not around.

You have the most special connection with him. He sleeps in the pocket of your hoodie and plays with anything he can get his paws on. He still doesn’t like the rain, but he’s so soothed by your touch. And each night after Joel reads to you and kisses you, Snoopy appears like clockwork. It’s the gentlest little jump, the slightest shift of weight on your mattress. He tucks himself right under your chin and stays there until early in the morning, then watches the birds every morning, hiding behind your curtain. He does the cutest little ek ek ek’s that cats always do, probably saying nothing nice to any one of those birds. Little punk.

Joel asked once about him. You told him that his mama probably found him, which isn’t entirely a lie. Joel says it’s better that way.

The old man fucking bought it.

Snoopy’s curled up on your lap and purring happily as you brush him, collecting little tufts of black fur you’ll set outside tomorrow morning. The birds will have nice, warm, insulated nests for their babies, you think, smiling to yourself.

Your nose tickles. You wipe it with your hand, putting more of his fur there. “Fuck,” you groan, scrunching your nose and wiggling your mouth. It’s in your eyes, too. It makes you sneeze, loudly, startling Snoopy. The claws come out immediately and dig into your bare thighs, and drag there as he launches himself off of you and darts under the bed. “FUCK! Snoopy, what the h–”

Blood is beading up on your thighs. Little kitten claws cut so deep, don’t they? Snoopy hasn’t quite figured out how to temper them, either, when to retract them. Blood is beading up on your thighs, dripping towards where gravity pulls it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How will you explain this one to Joel, huh? He’s gonna come in here tonight to fuck you and he’ll see your bloodied and scratched thighs, what’ll you tell him?

“Holy shit, okay. Ow,” you whine, hopping off the bed and hobbling toward the bathroom. The warm red dripping down your thighs makes you feel a little dizzy. It’s running toward your knees, now. “Ow, ow, ow, oh my god.”

“Pumpkin?” Joel calls from his room. “You hurt yourself, baby?”

Shit. Joel’s home? “No - I’m fine, Daddy.”

“What’s ow?”

Silence. Joel knows you should have an answer for him. “Pumpkin…”

“I’m fine! Don’t–”

Too late. Joel’s already out of his room and staring you down in the hallway, taking you in. Your bloodied thighs, the deer-in-the-headlights look. He counts the scratches on your thighs - four that are visible, all in irregular patterns. “What did you do?”

You purse your lips, squeezing your eyes shut as the cuts throb, and Joel knows you’re lying. You’re doing all your usual tells, hemming and hawing while looking to the side. “What did you do?”

Snoopy emerges from your room at that exact moment, and Joel pieces it all together. Fuming, he marches past you and down the stairs. Your stomach drops when you hear a drawer in the kitchen open, and then Joel’s stomping up the steps, wooden spoon in hand. “Again,” he spits. “Lyin’ t’me, a-fuckin’-gain.”

“Daddy, no. Please d–”

He hits you with the instrument, hard. He does it again, ignoring your cries of pain. Joel hits you until he can see the outline of the wood on your ass, “Tell me, Pumpkin. How’d ya pull this one off, huh?”

Hit. You scream, then answer him. “I don’t know!”

“You better fuckin’ speak up, girl.”

Nothing from you, and another smack. It’s hard to think up another lie as Joel beats you raw, but you manage to. “You left the door unlocked,” you sob. “Daddy, please. I’m so sorry.”

“When was this?”

“Like - like a week ago!” you cry.

“Didja go anywhere?” he asks, raising the spoon to hit you again. That’s Joel’s main concern - you’ve been getting in and out? How long has this been going on? Who are you seeing, and what do you tell them? Joel’s blind and sick with rage and you, Pumpkin, you did this to him. And you did this to yourself.

“I didn’t! Daddy, I did - listen to me, please. I’m telling you the truth. Daddy–”

“You better spit it the fuck out, then. Go.”

“It was storming, you left the door unlocked. I didn’t know it until I tried it. And I was scared for him, so I got him and brought him inside. And that’s all that happened, Daddy, you have to believe me.”

“Yeah? Why should I, kid?” he pants, red in the face. “Fuckin’ lied before, haven’t ya?”

“Yes, but–”

“But what?”

But nothing. You break down and sob, waiting for more hits to come. Joel lets you cry it out for a moment, then drops the spoon. When he stands up, you’re afraid his belt is next.

Joel walks away. He returns moments later, a basket of medical supplies in his hands. “Flip over,” he barks, still pissed off as ever. You do so immediately, and Joel sits on the edge of the bed. He spreads your thighs and inspects your scratches, then dabs some isopropyl alcohol onto a few cotton balls.

“Don’t–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, wiping your injuries with the cotton ball. It hurts worse than the spankings did and makes you scream, but it distracts you from the pain of your raw, swollen, throbbing ass. “S’posed to hurt. It’s a punishment,” he says, moving onto the next one, and the one after that.

Joel fans air on your thighs, then unscrews the cap off some antibiotic ointment. He dabs a little on his fingertip, then runs the ointment over the scratches. “Don’t look at ‘em,” he warns, though you’ve already seen them. “I need ya to be honest with me.” Joel inhales deeply, then reaches for a roll of gauze and some medical tape, both half-used. “Is this whole kitten ordeal,” he asks, gesturing to wherever the hell Snoopy ran off to, “The only stunt you pulled?”

“Y–”

“Do not lie t’me again, so help me god.”

“It’s the truth,” you answer, convincing yourself that it’s not a lie, and that you didn’t go and see Uncle Tommy, or suck his cock and swallow his cum on his brother’s kitchen floor. It’s not hard to do when your head feels as swollen as it does, sinuses all congested, cheeks puffy and raw from your tears. Anything to get through, you know…this.

Joel feels like he could fucking puke, knowing you escaped. He feels stupid for leaving a door unlocked. He feels stupid for trusting you, too. “Why don’tcha listen to me? Hm? Why d’ya have to buck me every goddamn step of the way? I put a roof over your head and give ya food and clothes an’ all I ask is that you just fucking listen.”

“I do listen,” you argue, searching for the words. “I’m trying - I really do try to, at least.”

“Do you?”

“Yes!” You’re defensive. Dishonest. You’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Oh, you know the truth. You know you crave the fight and the challenge. The feeling that comes from winning against Joel…but that never seems to happen, does it?

“Am I…bad, do you think?”

And Joel means that. You’re soft, tender, sensitive. Brave when you need to be. Stubborn as all get out. Joel’s special girl, always getting herself into messes he’s gotta clean up. It’s all part of parenthood.

“You’re a good kid,” he says, “But you cannot keep doin’ shit like this to me, baby. My fuckin’ heart can’t take it.”

Joel says it softly, in a pained way, knowing his words’ll eat at you, knowing that they already are. And they do - guilt is such an awful, nagging feeling, and it might just be the perfect motivator to get you to fucking obey. And sure, you like to hurt Joel, make him ache like he makes you ache. But causing him anxiety, deep upset…knowing what memory tugs in the back of his mind when you remind him that you can disappear if you really want to, as much as he tries to stop you. The little girl he told you about.

Joel inhales deeply, then changes the subject. “M’gonna keep an eye on this. Cat scratches ain’t nothin’ to mess around with,” he murmurs. He lays you down on the soft mattress and brings his face close to your thigh, then gently kisses over the bandages he wrapped you in.

Daddy’s always gonna do that, you know. He’ll always kiss your hurt all better, yes, even when he’s mad at you, yes, even when he’s disappointed in you. What else are daddies for, if not that very thing?

Joel kisses over each of the covered scratches, coincidentally kissing his way toward your center, causing you to soak your lily-white sheets beneath your ass. You whine when he pulls away from where you need his kisses the very most. You always need him after your fights, to remind yourself that he loves you, and things can feel good with him. “Please, Daddy.”

“No can do, Pumpkin. ‘F we screw up your bandages m’gonna have to do the whole thing all over again.”

“Even the alcohol?”

“Reckon so,” Joel answers, laughing to himself when you pout at that. “Mmhmm, I know, sweetheart. We gotta make good decisions, don’t we?” he whispers, running his knuckle delicately along your cheekbone. “Daddy’s here to help ya make good choices. You know that?”

“I know that,” you reply softly.

Joel caresses your jaw softly, gently. “C’mere,” he says, but he brings himself to you. He kisses your forehead, both of your cheeks, your chin, and your nose…your lips. It’s something you don’t do enough, is kiss Joel. It’s a gentle peck at first, then deepens into something more than that. Joel’s tongue mingles with yours as he cages your body with his own.

His hands on your neck, trailing down your breasts, pausing to gently squeeze at them. His hand goes lower and lower, fingers dipping into your heat to gauge just how badly you need this. If it’s worth the risk or not.

And Christ, you’re soaked to the fucking bone, kid. You moan into Joel’s mouth, rutting your hips into his palm. “Ohh, fuck. Goddamn, honey,” Joel says. “I think we can do it, Pumpkin, but Daddy’s gonna go real slow and careful.”

“Okay,” you nod, biting down on your grin. Joel will tease if he sees it.

“Which means,” he adds, “You can’t get mad an’ throw a fit like usual when things don’t go your way. Right? Gotta be patient w’me.”

“I’ll be patient, Daddy.”

“Uh huh.”

And that’s all Joel says before pulling away from you. He brings you with him momentarily, just to lift your shirt off and toss it elsewhere. Off comes his clothes next, one at a time. Joel’s in no rush.

He lowers himself between your thighs, spreading them wide. He continues those kisses from earlier, working his way toward your center, and each one makes you throb. He kisses your lips, your mound, your belly. Joel inhales deeply, your gorgeous, warm, sugar-sweet scent. He can feel the heat radiating from your pussy on your skin, feel you thrumming with a need, a hunger only Joel - Daddy - can satiate.

If it were a different day, if you weren’t already blemished by violence, he’d probably squeeze you hard enough to bruise. You’re soft like a peach, after all. But as promised, Joel’s gentle with you. Joel’s gentle with you as he licks a long stripe from the bottom of your pussy right to the very top, drawing a figure eight around your clit. “Guess the shape, Punk’n.”

You giggle, “Circle.”

“Nope!”

Joel does it again, and again, and again. “I don’t know, Daddy,” you breathe, “Figure eights?”

Joel laughs. “Attagirl,” he praises. He dips his tongue lower, nosing your clit while dipping his tongue in and out of you, tasting you. You make all the same sweet little noises you always make, quiet moans and soft whimpering. You soak his chin and the bedsheets beneath you, fingers tangling around Joel’s gorgeous, silvery curls.

Joel savors you, like you’re syrup on his tongue. He inserts two fingers into your heat, rubbing against that special place inside you, steadily guiding you toward your release.

Like when you lie, you have tells. Shaking, trembling thighs, a quiet voice. Joel licks and licks and licks, and there it is - cumming hard on Joel’s fingers, pulsing around them, gushing into the palm of his hand.

Joel licks the mess, then pulls himself forward. He fits his hips between your thighs, cock bouncing between your bodies, red and swollen, beating in time with his heart. “Ready, kiddo?”

“Can I put it in?” you ask.

Joel guides his tip toward your slit, “Mm-mm. Daddy’s doin’ it this time, baby. Maybe another time, ‘kay?”

“Can I help, then?”

Joel rolls his eyes and smiles. “Oh, yeah? You can help?”

“Mhm.”

He’s only a man, after all. Only a daddy. Who’s he to deny his pretty girl of such a thing? “Hold me right here,” he says, wrapping your hand around his shaft. You hold him as he fits himself inside you, then let go when he swats your hand away. He enters you quicker than he used to, testing you. Seeing how you handle him. “Lookit how good ya take it, baby,” he coos, looking down to see himself fully sheathed in your warmth. He pulls out, and he’s coated in ribbons of your creamy arousal, then pushes back in. He finds a pace, then saws his hips into you. “Yeah, nice an’ easy,” he whispers, making good on his promise to fuck you gently. And like a good girl, you take it, and you don’t complain. Not for more, not for less. You moan for Joel, making all of his favorite sounds, whimpering his name in that special way nobody else gets to hear.

Joel’s hands wander your body, squeezing whatever handfuls of your flesh he can. “Daddy!” you squeak, wincing when he grabs your thigh.

“Shit, baby. My bad. Lemme look–” Joel pauses to give your bandages a quick peek, then continues fucking himself into your tight cunt. “Easy, sweetheart. Easy.”

Joel fucks you gently, steadily, and you feel at home. It used to feel scary - and Joel made it scary - but there is something about it now that comforts you. Something about his body wrapped around yours, his nakedness, his weight and his warmth. Joel, finding himself closer to his orgasm, licks his fingers and massages your clit to coax your own along.

Pleasure ripples through you, washing over you in non-rhythm. Your pulsating walls have Joel coming just behind you, pressure building deep in his gut in the same way it does yours. Balls tightening, brow pinched together, Joel grits his teeth and growls as he cums, drowning out your pleasured noises with his own. “Oh, fuck Goddamn, fuck,” he grunts, milking the last of himself before he begins to soften.

Joel pulls out of you, then bends down and grabs his t-shirt, uses it to clean the mess he made of you. “Go potty, sweet pea,” he pants, catching his breath.

“Daddy.”

“Not arguin’. Go.”

He flops in your bed, watching as you walk naked to the bathroom, watching you relieve yourself, feeling his cock stir at that, despite having just orgasmed.

You flush the toilet and wash your hands, then join Joel in bed where he pats the space next to him. You snuggle him, inhaling his warm, sweaty skin, feeling at peace until…until you remember what’s coming after this.

“So, uh…”

“Hm, baby?”

“About the cat.”

“The rodent you’ve been feedin’ my eggs to, yeah, what about him?” Joel scoffs.

“Just wondering.”

“Uh huh. Heard ya named him, right?”

“Snoopy.”

Joel nods. “M’not mad at you for takin’ care a’ him, ya know. I’m mad about the lyin’, the disobeyin’.”

“Yeah. I know,” you whisper. Before it all feels heavy again, Snoopy jumps into bed with you and Joel, breaking the tension. He bravely walks over Joel like he’s not even there, then curls up into your side, settling right in that elegant curve between your hip and rib cage.

“So this is Felix, huh?”

“No, his name is Snoopy. I just told you.”

“Daddy,” you scold. Snoopy closes his eyes and purrs, tilting his head into Joel’s hand, leaning into his touch before betraying you by walking over to Joel. He lays on Joel’s chest, happily melting into those firm, warm strokes Joel gives him before settling against his neck. You hope Snoopy stays this snuggly forever.

“Please let me keep him, Daddy.”

“I dunno, kiddo. I’ll have to think on it.” Joel lifts Snoopy, ignoring his whines, then places him in your hands. He groans and lifts himself up and out of bed, then turns off the overhead light, leaving your lamp on. “You’re lucky I love ya,” he says, then kisses your forehead. “I mean it, honey. I do.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, and Joel kisses you again. It’s not quite bedtime but it’s getting there, and Joel’s ready to lie in a bed that actually fits him, maybe read a book. Give you time with Felix…Snoopy…whatever the fuck his name is before he’s gone for good. Because no, Pumpkin, you cannot keep him. Rules are rules, and that cat is going outside where he belongs.

Joel lies in his bed, reading glasses on as he flips through a book you’ve been asking to read, checking for pornography and other things of that nature, when a certain someone interrupts. Snoopy’s tugging on his comforter, clawing his way up the mattress to meet Joel, taking back his spot on Joel’s chest. “What are you doin’ here,” Joel mumbles, once again moving the kitten away. This time, Snoopy doesn’t just vocally protest, no. He swipes at Joel’s finger, nicking him right by the knuckle, then settles on his torso again. “Shit. Fuckin’ asshole.” Joel sucks his finger as he glares at the kitten.

Snoopy stares back at him, then lowers his head and rests his chin on his little paws. “Guess you’re kinda cute,” he murmurs. “Aren’t ya.” As if on cue, the kitten flips over, exposing its belly to Joel. He laughs.

“Bet your girl’s missin’ ya, knucklehead. Go bug somebody who actually likes ya. Scram, Felix.”

Snoopy must’ve learned his defiance from you. He closes his eyes and opts for a nap on Joel’s warm body instead.

There was never a definitive yes. Every time you asked about Snoopy, Joel would give you some half-hearted answer, followed by some snarky comment.

“Can we keep him?”

“Sure, kiddo.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh, gonna keep him and cook him up with onions an’ garlic for dinner. Since he likes to be on my fuckin’ counters so much, hm?” Joel gently pushes Snoopy off the countertop.

“He likes to be tall,” you argue from the floor, petting a Snoopy that’s doubled in size since you brought him in from the storm.

“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break. Likes to be tall.”

“I mean it,” you tell Joel, “I read that cats like to be up high. Maybe he’d stay off your counters if you made him a cat condo. Nice and tall.”

“A cat condo, hm? So it’s not enough I’m sharin’ my home with this asshole, I gotta make him his own special little house, too?”

“Well, yeah. You could make a scratching post and everything for him. That way he’ll stop scratching at your rocking chair.”

Joel stops, then narrows his eyes at you and your little buddy. “He’s doin’ what t’my rockin’ chair?”

More dark daddy!joel here

Ty for your patience and ty for reading. Nice words keep me motivated to write. Everybody take care.

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