#if you knew what i had cookin...

[dilfosaur]

thank you as always for the support and compliments on our new july-exclusive merch!! please take these close ups as a sign of my gratitude uwu

much like last year's postcard, i sculpted little figures and painted over them to get a nice 3D effect. i got really lucky with the lighting by the time i finished the bases lmao. the poster is ofc a reference to norman rockwell's triple self portrait so i was trying a more textured painting style. i'm really happy with how it came out! also ya bobby wasn't from this past year but this rejected plush idea was

happy drawfee calendar year! and please look forward to our most unhinged merch yet in this coming year! there are some whack coals on the fire

[baphofemme]

something that's commonplace in things i experience is that i never really get nightmares but just the most inexplicable acid trips of dreams possible

[bunnys-kisses]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ i like my men older - simon riley♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

you knew that your friends from school raised an eyebrow when you told them that you were dating a man almost double your age. you were in your twenties, while this 'simon' guy was close to fifty. you told them that he was an army man who had a gooey center for you.

your friends could see the upgrade in your laptop and the new knapsack with a logo that proclaimed it was expensive. the small chain around your neck with a 's' on it that you toyed with when they asked questions about him.

you looked happy, healthier even! you weren't eating minute meals and surviving off of black coffee. there was a little roundness to your cheeks now and you looked more alive. a glow to you that wasn't that while you trudged through your graduate program. so honestly, how could they complain?

if you had a glow to you, it was because you were often fucked out. most women your age through that dating an older man would mean having to go slow. be patient about technical difficulties regarding their cocks. that was what you expected from a man that old. especially one with aches and pains like simon. your poor si, he had been in the military his entire life. barely had the touch of a woman during that time! poor guy! of course you'll teach him all the ways a woman should please a man. the first time you ran your tongue on the underside of his cock he cam all over your head, and while you whined. it made you crazy hot. fucking simon was like fucking a live wire. he hadn't slowed down with age. he fucked like a stallion in breeding season. and he loved when he pulled his heavy cock into you. you once told him that he could be a cervix breaker. and he simply said, "well, if i break it... i can't breed it." which made you go slack jaw for a moment before he continued to rut up against you. you didn't expect a man of his age to have a breeding kink.

you practically begged your doctor to give you birth control, because he was not buying condoms. "don't fit in 'em, lovie." he said as he patted his clothed cock when you started dating. you knew that was impossible, condoms could fit a lot of things and while simon was fairly big. he could fit in a condom. but, no. when you tried to put them on yourself, he simply took it off, tossed it to the side and pinned you under his heavy weight. legs in the air as he rutted against you like a hungry animal.

he was so much bigger than you. wide shoulders, strong thighs and a bit of a gut to keep you folded under him. there was a masculine heft to him. he was strong, picking you up was easy to him even when you tried to tell him your weight. one time he gripped you by the waist with one arm and moved you out of the way. you kicked and squeaked as you were moved. but to simon it was easy as lifting heavy equipment. but that softness to some of his muscles really got you hot all over. it didn't help that part of your role as his girlfriend was to make sure that your man was fed. you cooked him meals and he over devoured in your sweet dessert. he loved you in an apron. all domestic and sweet for him. you were real wifey material. could easily be cooking meals for him and the kids in a few years. you can have a graduate degree and a few riley babies. "look good cookin' for me, darlin'. know how to make a proper meal for your man." you wouldn't admit but his words excited you.

simon can be a little... chauvinistic. it was just his age. while he respected female colleagues in the military and was beyond happy that you were getting your degree. he'd do things for you that you could clearly do on your own. like when you tried to fix the leaky tap in your flat. or when you try to carry all the groceries inside. yes, darling, you're a strong woman. but let him take over. take care of you. that was what a man did right? he'll cut the onions for you and try to fix your buggy wi-fi connection. he's pay for dinner every time and even get you dessert after. he'd wipe your face clear of the sweet treat you'd have. "don't ask her anything too difficult, johnny. she doesn't need to be thinkin' too hard." he once said with his hands over your ears and glared at his teammate. which only made the scotsman laugh. simon didn't mind if he had to take over. he'd never pull the rug out from under you, even when you were under him. you looked prettier under him, letting him take charge of your fucking. he took care of his girl, even when you whined and told him you were capable. there was no need to whine. simon needed to take care of his much smaller, much weaker baby girl. no need to break a nail trying to do stuff that simon could easily do for you.

even with the grey in his blond hair, he still kept up to you. there were times that you were too exhausted from day-to-day that you let simon rut between your thighs until he covered your round ass with his hot cum. you'd whimper which would turn into a yelp when he easily slipped his heavy cock into your sweet pussy. where it belonged. he fucked you heavily as his cum coated your behind, even trailing down your sloped back as you had your head in the covers.

"don't spill a drop off that pretty ass, baby girl. or else i'd might have to mark you again." thank god you liked your men older. <3

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 4

"THOSE FUCKING BITCHES SAM!" Danny shouted as he stormed into his apartment, slinging his backpack off by the door as he toes his shoes off.

Rounding the corner of the hallway, Danny was met with Tucker, shirtless with only a pair of plaid boxers on, staring at him with sleep glazed eyes, he had a box of cereal in one hand, and a bottle of oat milk in the other, raising the bottle in a salute, Tucker stuffed a handful of cereal into his mouth before taking a swig of the milk, holding up a hand to stop Danny from speaking as he chewed, only letting his hand fall before he spoke.

"What?"

"The Bats are fucking assholes!"

Tucker looked back at the bottle of oat milk, sighed and placed it back in the refrigerator, chucking the box of cereal on the counter, Tucker grabbed Danny by the shoulders.

"Of course they are Jerks Danny..." his grip tightened as he started to shake the Halfa, "I have ten deadlines and 5 missed calls, I really want to geek out right now about you meeting the local heroes but I really don't have the time, so yes, jerks, tell me about it later okay?"

Danny phased through the tough grip on his shoulders, letting out a giggle as he watched Tucker fumble as he no longer had someone to help steady himself, "I did yell specifically for Sam, Tuck so you can't get mad at me! Go huant the Wanyetech building, I know for sure those dudes are way more dead inside than I am!"

Getting a groan from his friend at his dead pun, Danny continued into the apartment, snatching Tuckers cereal box off the counter as he went to sit in the living room.

Spotting Sam typing something on a lap top, her big over the ear headphones blaring as he flops down next to her, which thankfully was enough for her to notice him.

Offering g the box of cereal to her, she sent him a tired smile as she slipped the head phones off and took some of the fruit flavored rings, "Hey there Deadstuff...how was work?"

Danny sent her a grin, "Well, Clocky decided to throw me a bone and I think I got this? He is a little bitch boy that sends me all over the place but this time it was a dined, Lunch Lady taught me how to cook." Pasuing to stuff a new handful of tasty fruity goodness, Danny spoke around the cereal in his mouth "Cookin' ish so much more cool when da food isn't trying to kill you"

Slapping Danny's arm as she rolled her "Don't eat with your mind full and tell me what got you so riled up" Sliding her laptop of her self she tucked her knees up before stretching them out over Danny, who was already going off on his story.

"Wait wait! You had Nightwing in you're restaurant and you didn't get me an autograph?" Same shot Danny a scowl, who at least had the decency to look sorry

"I was going to but they fucking dined and dashed Sam! Even when I was actively Phantom, I never, ever just left a bill!"

---

Dick knew that perhaps eating the food was a slightly bad idea, given the look B gave them when him and Tim pulled into the Cave.

He was standing there, arms crossed, thankfully cowl down, what made the sight infinitely less intimidating was Damian doing the same next to him, his head tilted to look down at them and perhaps standing on his tittpy toes a little bit.

Dick wanted to coo at the father son bonding, but remembered he had to act at least a little chastised at the moment "Yes I am sorry B, It was my decision to head in, there was no outward danger so we just took a chance."

Wincing at the gruff grunt he got from that Dick powered on, "I will write a more detailed report, but personally if anything wrong it's likely that the kid working there is Meta? I dont-"

"He can't be meta! He is very clearly a ghost Dick!" Tim interrupted already flipping through some notes he had made on the way back home, "its the only explanation...or he is a 5th dimensional Imp with a passion for cooking but I really hope not those guys suck to deal with..."

Dick nodded at that, but had to say some thing foe his own superfan imp "Nightmite is a chill dude helps sometimes with cases back in Bludhaven!"

Giving a sigh, Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose, "No mites, no metas, no ghost, go to Medbay I am running blood tests on what sweet hell you have ingested."

---

Bruce ran the test again, sure that it was wrong, praying that it was wrong.

TEST COMPLETE

TRACE LAZARUS WATERS DETECTED

Underneath was lists of chemical make ups of the samples Tim took and his sons blood, there were varying levels through out the food samples, some lighter but others were heavy on it.

What was stumping him was...it was nearly perfectly pure, the pits naturally over time get polluted, with the dirt and sediment that falls in, and with the various amounts of bodily parts and fluids that are dipped in it.

But the trace amounts Bruce was finding were a better quality than Ra's own personal pool, not the one he dips in to regain his youth that the LOA make a ritual out of, no the privet one in the Alps that was clear as glacial water.

It didn't make any sense to Bruce, who would be spreading Lazarus water around? Ra's would not simply share his secret pure stash...

Lost in thought, Bruce sat back glaring at the test results.

---

"And after I thought I was giving great service, they fucking left, no bill, no tip! I didn't even get to see Nightwings ass as he left! People say it's a godly experience! I was robbed!" Letting out a huff Danny shot Sam an incredulous look at her sudden burst of laughter. "Sa~am, this isn't funny! Never meet your heroes! I am taking this to Twitter! They shall know my fury!" His words only served to make Sam laugh even harder.

Stifling a grin Danny took out hos phone, a old busted thing that was more ducktape and prayers than actual technology, but dear go's did it still work.

<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween

[@.realwing @not-that-red-robin.real yall are toxic twinks came in to my workplace and fucking dined and dashed 0/10 Nightwing has a flat ass.]

Hitting send, Danny put his phone down, choosing to let the nights happenings go past his mind and just hang out with Sam before showering and finally going to bed.

---

Tim was hunched over his lap top, going frame by frame of his body cam footage, he *needed* to figure this out, it was like an itch in his brain that he would go through bone to get through.

His work payed off as he clicked forward another time, his feed went static before it showed a blurry blue blob in place of the diner! Proof! It was there!

Jumping at the sudden bang of his bedroom door being thrown open, Tim whirled to around to see Dicks distressed face, standing up, Tim prepared for the worst, something happened. Bruce was dead agian it had to be-

"TIMMY I AM A TWINK AM I??" Was Dicks wail as he flopped down on Tim's bed.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, Tim looked longingly at his laptop before closing it, "Dick, what the fuck."

Rolling around on the bed, Dick finally looked up at Tim "Littlewing sent me a tweet and...ugh just look!" Thrusting out his phone as he spoke

Pasuing at the mention of Jason, Tim  looked down at the screen and froze

"Holy shit...we forgot to pay didn't we...fuck Jason is never going to let us live that down."

Tim still remembered the first time he witnessed one of Jason's famous "make Bruce spend more money" rants about tipping.

It was glorious.

Tim now realized he would be one of two that was likely going to have to face it next.

"UGH?? You focus on the money and not the other parts? Tim I was called a toxic twink with no ass! This is a declaration of war! I have never been so offended!" Dick sat up, eyes narrowd while Tim opened up the tweet on his own phone.

"The comments agree Dick, I am sorry, you now have a flat ass congrats and welcome to the club" Tim said dryly, trying to go to the posters page, since it was clearly Danny who posted it.

Only the app crashed when he tried to. And again when he tried to a second time, and his web browser crashed when he tried opening it there

Tim was baffled on what was happening while Dick lemented on his bed before deciding to hack it later.

<@not-that-red-robin.real

[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween super sorry about that send me venmo and I'll pay with tip]

<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween

[@not-that-red-robin.real Fuck that face me like a coward bitch bet you wont]

<@not-that-red-robin.real

[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween...bet]

---

Somewhere in a safe house in Crime Ally, Jason let out a little giggled as he scrolled through the comments on the funniest post he had found in a while, Jason was surely going to have to speak to Timberly and Dickiebird about paying their bills but right now?

He was kicking his feet watching Dick have a public meltdown as Nightwing.

Finally, he wouldn't be the only one who had to retake the Bat Media course.

How was he supposed to know doing peace signs next to a person he just shot wasn't allowed?

[almostempty]

Look at this photograph

(joel miller x f!reader)

The half sequel (Chapter 1.5) to Never made it as a wise man

WC: 3.5k | Part 1 | Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: you open Joel’s dick pic and (after examination) decide to give him a call

Note: it’s me ya boi (gn), back with more divorceddadrockdilf!joel bc you guys get me. i know y’all want them to fuck, and I want them to fuck too. unfortunately, this flowed through me first, and I am merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. 

so, until they get their freak nasty on, please enjoy this as a chapter 1.5, with gratuitous dick pic art critique and crankin’ it over the phone <3 don’t worry, he’s still a lil pathetic. mistakes and bad jokes are all on me. 

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where ch.1 ended, dick pic descriptions, alternating pov, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, it’s all just phone sex, but edge yourself through it with fond memories of ch. 1, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc

inspo playlist i found on spotify: Divorced Dad Rock: BANGERZ

thanks: to @hellishjoel for hosting the #hotdilfsummerchallenge and to everyone who enjoyed part 1 

@gothcsz i promise fuckboy!joel is cookin, he’s just in the crockpot rn. he’s gotta tenderize like a white lady’s pinterest recipe for pulled pork. 

* i tried to tag everyone who wanted more, but if you don’t wanna be here i’ll remove it <3 or if i missed you and you want to be tagged next time pls let me know

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you blurt out after opening the message from Joel. The vulgar dick pic sends a prickly worm of arousal slithering down your spine. 

Without thinking, you tilt the phone down toward your chest, and your eyes shoot up like you’ve got to make sure nobody saw your naughty message. Warmth blooms on your cheeks as the flash of embarrassment starts to dissolve. You don’t need to hide. 

You’re in your bed, in your apartment, wearing Joel’s grubby Creed t-shirt. The one that smells like Degree Sport and a Jiffy Lube break room. You're free to look at all the dick pics your heart desires. And that’s what you’re going to do. 

The wiggle of bashful energy turns into a squirm as you shift your hips, seeking a comfy position in bed. The t-shirt bunches up under your back and you wonder if the unique Joel scent of it will linger on your pillow beneath your shoulders. You knew pilfering the shirt on the way out the door was a good move, and now you get to enjoy your trophy. It makes it feel like the broad-as-a-barn-door DILF himself was still close enough to touch you. 

It gives you another bright shudder when you think about the noises he made when he came in your hand earlier. The disappointed grunts of “fuck, wait” and how he tried to choke down the throaty groan that came from deep in his chest. Fuck. The perverted gremlins that have a permanent residence in your mind have been roused by the digital dick, and now they chitter and squawk at you. More! More! More!  

You reopen the message, and seeing it gives you another rush. You save the picture to your phone storage. For your personal collection. Mine now, big boy. Your chin starts to dip towards your chest. It’s like you’re giving your phone the Kubrick stare with the ghost of a smirk. You’re free to take your time with this one. And you can be as much of a creep as you want. That makes you sigh softly and sink deeper against your pillows. 

Before this afternoon, it was titillating when Joel would pop up in your mind's eye with his slutty slo-mo scenes. The one where he was bent over your car's engine like Megan Fox in that Transformers movie. Or, that damn happy trail tease with the t-shirt-sweat-rag move. You had just enough imagery to let your dirty thoughts take the wheel. 

And, god, you had a good production team in your mind for projects starring Joel. Adding this will give the team a whole lot more to work with. You can hear them crashing around your conscious like the Animaniacs on the Warner Brothers lot. Horny chaos goblin mode activated. 

Now that you have time to study the image, from the luxury of your microfiber sheets and lamplit bedroom, you let it get pervy. It’s your first real, lingering look–earlier today, you were so busy trying to rile him up in his jeans that you didn’t even pull it out.

It had somehow been even more delicious that way. Having him all needy and unable to stop himself from making a mess in your hand. And not just the noises, but the erratic thrusts into your tight fist? The heat of his pulsing length as he forgot himself? Yeah, you’re gonna remember that one. 

But now? Now you need the visual. If the devil is in the details, you have a new neighbor with horns and a tail. 

You zoom in on everything. Holding your phone closer to your face than necessary, like how do we enhance this bitch? 

And holy shit. 

Drool pools in your mouth and between your legs. You have the knee-jerk reaction to lick your phone. 

You can hear Joel’s voice from earlier today. All husky and grumbly, arguing that you really were a slut for him, like, “You are, aren’t you, though? You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt just to see me?”  He might be touch-starved enough to cream his jeans, but you just know he’s got a nasty mouth in bed, and you’ve got to find out firsthand. Soon. There’s no reason not to, right? 

You pause when a flicker of reasoning tickles the back of your neck. 

You’re back to looking in your review mirror in Joel’s driveway. The last-ditch attempt at checking your ego before you marched to his front door like a Halloween hoe bag version of Betty Crocker. 

You had told yourself you weren’t trying to fuck your (almost) friend’s (sort of) dad. Told yourself there was nothing to pursue, and even if there was, you wouldn’t bite. 

You like Ellie. She’s been (mostly) welcoming to you. You told yourself not to fuck anything up with the only person that’s got a single one of your jokes at your new job. 

You were just bringing some food as a friendly gesture. The fresh visuals to add to your spank bank reel were supposed to be a harmless bonus. Okay, maybe it was a stretch to say you had rolled up to Joel’s driveway with pure intentions. 

And it was an even bigger stretch–when he added that third finger while he finger fucked you on the kitchen counter—wait, no. It was an even bigger stretch when you had told yourself you probably weren’t his type anyway. 

Like, that guy? With the fridge full of Coors Banquet? With those ugly Oakley sunglasses that you know are featured in his only picture on social media that isn’t a car or truck? The guy with all the words to Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” and Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” memorized? 

Nah, deep down, you knew. You knew there was no way that middle-aged bachelor would turn down any action. But you hadn’t planned on actually making a move, especially not a handjob in the middle of the kitchen. 

That’s on Joel for leaving the door open while trying to rub one out to some bimbo on Brazzers. And for barking at you in that sexy, angry voice. And for teasing you with the bulge in his oil-stained jeans. What were you supposed to do? 

Something must be really rotting in the logic department of your brain. 

Hey! The gremlin voice in your head is still shouting at you. Hey!! Why are we not tasting that dick yet?!! You’re back from your daydream and the excuses you crafted for your behavior, back to laying in your bed with Joel’s dick pic emitting a bright glow in your hand. 

You still do want to lick the screen. 

Fortunately for your immune system, you control your tongue. The critical part of you expels a sigh when you zoom out and take in the picture. 

It’s undoubtedly a nice cock, but the image as a whole? Yikes. 

Why do men have to be so fucking thick? And blunt? Wait, now you’re just describing the slightly blurry boner lighting up your face. Thick as in dense. How can men be so dense? 

No imagination or creativity. No patience. 

You shake your head slightly, scoffing. No wonder you caught him hunched over his cracked phone screen. It was probably the first video loaded on the only site he had saved. 

No sweet, sweet, buildup, setting the mood, or getting cozy. Just whippin’ it out midday or snapping a photo in some ratty sweats. 

Like you’ve never been that touch-starved or down bad?

You ignore that voice to continue your art critique. 

The photo you sent is… sexy. 

Sultry. A flirty tease. It says, “Look who has your shirt? Am I wearing it in bed? Do you think I'm wearing anything else?” 

It’s all implied in the look in your eye and the picture's composition. The tease of the soft curves on the underside of your breasts, asking if he remembers what they felt like. Your hand bunching up the shirt, asking if he remembers the slide of that fist around his cock. If he remembers those fingers, the ones you sucked his sticky spend off of. 

Such delicately crafted imagery. Personalized erotic fine art.  

But men are so crude about it. He sees your tasteful, sexy pic, and immediately, the best his caveman brain can come up with is: send her ur dick! STAT!! Hard cock! Now!!

And, of course, he did. Taken in the dark with the flash on, making ominous shadows in the background. His old charcoal gray sweats are pulled down just enough to expose everything he’s offering. 

The color is slightly blown out from the flash, and it’s a touch blurry where his phone didn’t autofocus quickly enough. His hand looks like it’s straight up, just choking the base of his cock. It’s jarring. 

But that’s really the “man” of it all, right? Nothing subtle or demure about a rock-hard erection jutting towards you, reaching like it could get to you on its own if it just could get a little bit harder. No, there’s nothing coy about the raw thoughts of a man with no blood left in his brain who’s just aching to get inside you, either. 

And fuck if that doesn’t start to override your critical analysis. 

The glare from the flash reflects in the beads of precome rolling down his rosy tip. Mouth wateringly delicious. Your blood rushes to your pussy, filling your tender sex with heat and a deep, needy itch. It makes you dopey and silly. Not cock drunk, but like, dick pic buzzed. 

You know it felt sizeable in your hand earlier, but you aren’t an expert at estimating size from a through-the-pants handjob. You try to recreate your own grip around nothing to estimate the size. 

You giggle to yourself when you realize you're just a woman in her bed staring at her hand, jerking an invisible cock. The horny goblins aren’t amused, though. They’re sick of the daydreaming and distractions. They’re picking fights with the rest of your mind. Throwing rocks and sticks, shrieking and hissing. 

The part of your brain that was griping about how men used to write love letters and respect the art of romance is getting quieter and further from your faculty for caring. You can hear its muffled shouts, and you assure that voice that you won’t give it all up this easily. Then, you completely tune it out. 

The last brain cell with a complaint has you rolling your eyes. You have to be ovulating or something because it’s wholly debased the way this guy is doing it for you. 

He’s just shameless with it. 

You sent him tasteful underboob, and he gives you jumpscare dick-in-the-dark! How is this supposed to escalate? He gave it all up immediately! You send another picture, and he sends you his money shot? What’s he gonna do to give you more? Send you an asshole shot? That one makes you snort. You bet he would do it, too, if you asked. 

Oh, that gives you a better idea. He’s not getting another picture from you at all. You tap on his name and tap the call icon. Of course, this horny motherfucker answers immediately. You aren’t sure it even rang before you’re connected to his porny bedroom voice. 

“What are you wearing, dollface?” 

“I already showed you. Call me dollface again, and I’m hanging up.” 

You can hear his breathing like he’s got the mic on his phone in his mouth. That would typically drive you fucking nuts, but right now, you wanna hear his heavy breath against your ear and feel it hot against your skin.

“All right,” he speaks slowly, distracted. You know why. “You wanna be my slut, instead?” 

Fuck. That has you throbbing between your legs, but he doesn’t get to know that yet. 

“I already told you,” you keep your voice low and soft, “you don’t get to call me a slut for you, not with your behavior.” You strain, trying to hear any other noises, but his mic is probably clogged with dust from his shop or lint from the pocket of his sweats. You can just hear his fucking breathing. 

“What behavior, baby?” he rasps.

“You always jump straight to sending a picture of your cock?” 

You hear the soft snort through the phone. Followed by a deeper, throatier noise. A noise that makes you go cross-eyed and has you running a hand down to your naked lower half to tease yourself. 

“You always steal a man’s clothes after you come on his fingers?” 

You don’t really care what he asked. His voice makes your tongue go numb. Your mind goes blank. You start slowly, coating your own fingers in your slick arousal and drawing circles with a light touch. 

You hum a noncommittal response into the phone. 

“You look good in my shirt, baby, fuck,” he trails off breathlessly. The idea of you in his clothes gets him too close. 

You don’t answer, and he’s too far gone to wait and tease. 

He’s been wound up since you took off this afternoon, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that you sent him that pic when he had just gotten into bed.

It had taken ages to get his brother out of the shop this afternoon, and then Joel completely fucked up when he mentioned you and the lasagna. He had to begrudgingly host Tommy for dinner when he couldn’t come up with a better excuse than saying, “I’m gonna need you to fuck off so I can deal with the aching balls I’ve got from your surprise visit scaring away the woman I had my fingers knuckle deep inside.”

But when he was finally alone, it was like fate; your text came through right after he flopped onto his bed. His semi-stiff cock had sprung to full mast at the sight of you. The shirt he knew he didn’t fuckin’ lose, your soft curves, and the expression on your face. Like a vixen. Your PG-13 tease would do more for him than any X-rated video. 

Knowing you were thinking about him and that you wanted him to know? That had him throbbing. He already knew from the desire in your eyes earlier today that you wanted more.

He could swear his fingers still hold the lingering flavor of your wet cunt. The visceral memory of you has him on edge. When he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, he has to pause, holding firmly in place. His body screams and aches for release, but he’s determined to keep it in check. He doesn’t want to blow his load until he gets a response from you. 

He fights his urges, trying not to fuck his own fist in a frantic race to come. 

But, fuck, it’s difficult when he can imagine the sounds you’d make as you sank onto his cock for the first time. The face you’d make. Your tight, wet walls hugging him just right. Like, he’s where he’s meant to be. 

And the way you would look, bouncing on top of him. Your tits, your blissed-out face, the way your soft lips would part when you called out his name and cried for more. 

Those lips. 

The way he’d love to see them swollen and slobbering around the base of his cock. Fuck. His hips buck reflexively, and he hisses out a breath through his clenched teeth. When his phone lights up with your name, he answers before it can make a sound. You’re so bold. He likes that. It plasters a saucy grin on his face. 

And now, with your breathy voice crackling through his janky phone speaker, he’s not gonna last long. You've got him losing his composure for the second time in one day. His whole body is rigid. His toes flex and snap unconsciously, and his jaw tenses. He hears your soft moan, and his thoughts are overflowing. He has no filter left. 

“Yeah, baby? You moaning for me?” His hips punch up into his fist, and he gives in, allowing himself firm, severe strokes. “You’ve got me so hard. You moaning for my cock?” 

You are so not gonna answer that one. If the next words out his mouth are, “Yeah, you like that?” you’re gonna block him for that. But it is undeniably hot to hear him already so worked up. You just know he’s gonna be coming all over himself again for you, and that really does make you moan just for him.

Your noises earn you another growly groan from Joel that you’d kill to hear again. The more uninhibited his noises are, the louder you get in response.

“You using your fingers, or you have a toy?” his question is punctuated with a grunt. 

“Mm, just fingers,” you purr, finally granting him an actual response as you roll your hips. Having Joel on the line gives you a heady sense of satisfaction. Wondering what’s going to come out of his filthy mouth next gives you a shiver of anticipation. 

“I know that sweet pussy is just achin’ to be filled again.” Correct. 

“Yes.” 

“S’right, baby, I know.” 

Joel whimpering on the phone for you is absolutely going to get you off. Your hips chase your own fingers. You switch your phone audio to speakerphone and drop it on your pillow so you can use both hands. Pinching at your own nipples as if it were Joel’s big hand under your smuggled shirt. 

“Tell me,” he pants, “who do you need to fill it for you?” 

“You, Joel.” 

“Fuck,” he chokes out, “you wanna ride this cock, huh baby?” 

“Mhmm.” Bingo. Right again. You wish you could feel the pressure of him inside of you, massaging and soothing away the agony. The weight of his body atop of yours, so solid and secure. You can just about feel the pressure of his pelvis grinding into you. The friction from the coarse curls at the base of his cock getting you closer and closer. 

“Know you’d do so good,” he cuts himself off with a low noise, “so damn sexy.” 

“What else would you do with me?” You wanna hear it. For your own fantasy and to know what he’s into.  

“I’d have you taking me down your throat til you’re crying on it for me, fuck,” a primal noise erupts from him.

Face fucking. Of course. You can’t deny that when he says it, your body responds instantaneously. Your pussy floods eagerly at the idea, and your cheeks burn hot from the visual he gives you. You swallow down your moans, and you can imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the strain of trying to swallow around his cock. 

“You wanna come down my throat?” As if that isn’t a fucking siren song that would make him steer a fleet of ships into a cliff? Your salacious words are too much. 

“Shit. Yeah, baby, wanna watch you swallow for me.” You let all your moans and gasps flow freely for him to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ close,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out his mouth, “let me hear it, baby,” he can’t stop his pending bliss either. “Please, baby, I can’t, oh f-fuck,” he cuts himself off with another primitive grunt, and that’s precisely what your cavewoman cunt wanted to hear. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The horny goblins chant out loud this time. You can envision sweaty, pleading Joel lurching toward a reckless, full-body climax. 

You’re far from grace when the crude sounds he lets out turn you into an uncivilized beast. You hear him gasping, growling, and whining for you. It plunges you into a staggering orgasm. Rolling waves of ecstasy leave you panting and sweating.  

You lie in bed, chest rising and falling beneath the Creed logo. You’re left stunned at the intensity. A dreamy smile spreads across your face, and warm contentment, like honey, pours slowly over your muscles. Relaxing you as your tension softens and you turn to pick your phone back up.

Why was it so wholly consuming just to listen to him? Imagining the mess he made again,

because of you. 

Maybe you’re just made for each other. 

You and Joel. 

Oh, god. You should start listening to Alanis Morissette and Evanescence and trade your car for a 1990s-era Toyota 4runner and a pack of Marlboro Smooths. Really lean into matching his freak and the divorced alt-rock vibes.

You laugh softly into your phone before a deep sigh possesses you, and you nearly fall asleep. You stretch and smile, letting your heavy eyelids rest. 

He’s muttering something at you, catching his breath from the stress of being that fucking horned up for you all evening. And the overexertion of lasting long enough to hear your sweet cries of release. 

“You’re unreal,” his smoky voice rings with awe. “Got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager.”

You snort at the juxtaposition of his tender voice and crude comment before ending the call with a whispered, “Goodnight.” 

It shouldn’t make you smile. 

But he’s somehow such an enticing disaster. A cliche lonely bachelor, a cocksure idiot who knows he’s got a big dick and a generous guy who was willing to fix a stranger's car. 

You shouldn’t be trying to justify it, but you know he had you figured out earlier. 

You may be sated tonight, but you won’t be able to rest.

Not until you get your hands on that DILF – or rather, your pussy on that dick. 

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

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[x-ghostslovie-x]

I like the way you think. 😊

Little Family

I wrote this with a fem reader and old man Logan in mind, but you could read this with any version of him. Hope you like it. 🩷

Logan woke up before you as he usually does. The sun peaking through the curtains, casting a glow over you, making you look like some type of goddess. His goddess. Logan wraps his arms a little bit tighter around you, not enough to wake you up though, as he nuzzles his face into the cruck of your neck. He places a soft kiss on your neck and your check before carefully getting out of bed, heading to the kitchen.

It didn't take long for you to wake up after he had left the bedroom. The lack of warmth and how your hand reached out only to touch empty bed sheets. You decided to get up to go find him, a little worried he might have been awake for a while after having another nightmare, but you knew he was most likely getting ready for work. However, when you walked into the kitchen, you found the very domestic sight of your husband in a pair of sweatpants and a white vest cooking breakfast. You leaned on the doorframe, smiling to yourself. You knew that Laura would also wake up soon from the smell of food.

Logan, feeling someone staring at him, turns around to see you standing there wearing his shirt from last night. A small smile forms on his face. "Good mornin princess. You doing ok"

"Good mornin. Yeah, I'm good. What cha cookin" pushing yourself off the doorframe, walking towards him.

Logan opens one arm for you to cuddle yourself into his side, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Just some pancakes and bacon. Yours have chocolate chips instead. And I'll make you some tea as well."

"Thank you baby. That sounds wonderful." You reach up to kiss his cheek. "How about I get you some more coffee."

"That'll be great darlin."

As you were refilling Logan's coffee, you heard a chair scraping across the floor. Looking over your shoulder, you see Laura sitting at the kitchen table. "Good morning honey."

"Good morning"

You poured her some orange juice, bringing it and Logan's coffee over to the table and sitting down. Your husband places your cup of tea down first. You thank him. Then, he hands out the pancakes.

You can't help the big smile that crosses your face as you look at the people next to you. You love your little family.

Can you tell I did not know how to end this? 😂😭

[7s3ven]

SINGLE DAD! X BABYSITTER! READER HAS ME FROTHING OMGG. Even better when the rest of TF 141 is involved

part 1 | part 2 (coming soon - rest of tf 141 introduced)

master list

MDNI 18+

Warnings: big age gap, babysitter! reader, reader is in medical school (but still legal guys)

You told yourself it was just a temporary summer job, something to fill your pockets over the Summer break as you moved into another year of university. Medical bills were not easy to pay off and your old job that paid the bare minimum did not help you in the least. All it taught you was that you had a nasty uppercut (from the time you actually hit someone and got fired).

So, you found yourself standing in front of John Price’s house. You stared up at the tall building, brows raised in surprise. He had understated how big his house was… it even had a garden and a pool. You may as well consider it a mansion.

You quickly rang the doorbell, smoothening out your tight blouse. Your much more appropriate one was in the wash so you prayed whoever answered the door did not notice.

It was a tall middle-aged who greeted you, beard cleanly trimmed and… a hat on his head. “Y/N L/N?” He asked you. You swiftly nodded, softly smiling when he stepped aside.

“So, medical school, huh? Training to become a doctor?” He asks as he brews you a cup of tea while you read over his terms and conditions.

“A surgeon, sir. Not much better, though.” You offer him another smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension.

“Right. Next time I need surgery, I’ll call you up.” He takes a sip from your tea, which you notice but you say nothing. “Just checkin’ the temperature. Wouldn’t want ya to burn yourself.” He hands you the mug, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment too long.

“I assume this is only a quick job for you? Just away to gain a bit of money to pay those student fees off?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you nod. “Yes, sir. I know I should have clarified it but I’m a little desperate at this point. Besides, no retail places want to hire me… after I hit someone.”

Your words intrigued him. He let out a low chuckle as he sat across from you. “Now I’m interested.”

“Well… there’s not much to it… a guy kept staring at my chest. He said some vulgar stuff and next thing I knew, I was punching him.”

Price shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “The lad was askin’ for it. So, what do you think about the job? You’ll honestly be a glorified babysitter. Just do some cleaning and cookin’ here and there and make my baby happy and you’ll get a nice pay check every week.”

It all happened in a blur. You agreed to the job and weeks later, you found yourself at Price’s house more than your apartment. You hadn’t stepped foot into your apartment since two days ago, Price generously allowing you to use one of the guest rooms.

“Lila has a sleepover tomorrow.” Price mentions as you’re reading the instructions on how to make cookies for Lila’s bake sale.

Based on the cooking skills you had seen from Price, you doubted he could bake very well. In fact, all he could cook was steak, which was general knowledge for dads.

“I can drop her off if needed.” You offer while opening the packet of flour only for it to explode in your face. You smacked your lips together, grimacing. “Not a word.” You mutter to Price who’s chuckling under his breath.

“Wasn’t gon’ a say anything, love.” He helps wipe the flour dust off your face, still grinning in amusement.

In all honesty, your relationship with Price felt a little too domesticated, especially right now as you wore a frilly apron he had bought just for you.

“Your skirt’s too short, by the way.” Price grumbles, attempting to tug it down. “You sure no creeps stared at you on your way ‘ere? Wouldn’t want ya in danger.”

You push his hands away from your hips. “Even if people were staring, I’ll just punch them.”

You had tried to maintain a professional relationship with your boss but it was hard when he carelessly manhandled you and treated you like his wife rather than his daughter’s babysitter.

And all professional behaviour came crashing down when he unexpectedly stood behind you as you whisked the cookie batter.

“You look like a coke addict.” Price jokes, referring to the flour that still stained your face. “Like you got it everywhere but up your nose.”

“I can assure you, sir, I have never tried coke unless my friend daring me to snort sherbet counts.”

Price grins at your biting remark, his heavy hands falling to your waist. “Yeah? Heard it doesn’t feel too good with sherbet.”

“Not in the slightest.”

His hands trail dangerously low but you don’t have the courage to ask him to stop… nor do you really want him too. He seems to sense your willingness as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, body pressed up tightly against yours.

You feel more like his spoiled wife than a medical student just trying to pay her bills.

“You’re pretty, ya know that? Surprised you don’ have a boyfriend… or girlfriend. Or partner. Dunno what your label is.”

With shaking hands, you place the bowl filled with cookie batter to the side, afraid you’ll only spill it.

“Never met a woman as soft as you… most think I chased Lila’s mother away. But nah. Her mother ran off, leavin’ me with a baby. Not that I’m complaining, I love Lila… and without her, I wouldn’ have met you.”

You’re reduced to listening to Price’s words, stuck between his larger frame and the marbled kitchen counter.

“Sir.” You whisper but it reaches his keen ears. Everything after that is a distorted blur and you find yourself bent over the counter, clad in nothing but the apron, with Price right behind you.

Price was a mystery to you. How could a man be turned on by something as simple as an apron? Though, he was a single dad so it made sense.

Price is muttering praises in your ears as your knees tremble, threatening to buckle. You never imagined you’d be in your employer’s kitchen, having your back blown out by the man himself.

His hands were hungrily climbing your body, gripping every bit of exposed skin he could find. If it wasn’t for him holding you upright, you would have toppled to the ground in a heartbeat.

You feel Price lift a hand to grip your hair, tugging at your locks. He’s in a desperate stupor but you’re not any better, pushing back your hips to meet his harsh thrusts.

“Gon’ a fill ya up. Give you a baby of yer own. Fuck… be so pretty just like you. My perfect little wife.” He grunts in your ear. You have no energy to correct him; that you’re not actually his wife but you’d have no complaints if he bought you a ring.

If anything, his words spur you on more.

Your chest is heaving by the time you near your release. You’re whining like a damn dog, high pitched noises slipping past your saliva-slicked lips. And you only grow in volume as Price speeds up, pressing his body against your back.

He’s older than you, that’s a fact you knew from the start, but he’s definitely more experienced as well. His well thought out words have the desired effect on you as the coil in your stomach snaps.

Your fluids drip down your exposed legs, hitting the tiles kitchen ground in thick droplets. You hear Price swear under his breath, quickly pulling out and staining your back white.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Then he leads you towards his bathroom, ushering you inside and handing you a spare set of clothes.

“Imma place your old ones in the washing, yeah?” He mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you to wash off.

You sit on the shower floor for a good five minutes, replaying the moment in your head. When you finally cleanse yourself of sweat, you slip Price’s shirt over your head, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his cologne. It was the one you liked too.

His clothes engulfed you as you stumbled back into the kitchen, hobbling a little.

“I guess I’ll… get going then.” You murmur, fidgeting with your hands.

Price reaches out a hand to brush a strand of hair away from your face. Then he nods. “See you tomorrow night, lovie.”

Right, you still had to finish those cookies and pick up your clothes.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was surprised to see you standing on the other side of his door. He'd limped himself over from the couch, expecting Carol to be dropping off yet another strange casserole concoction, and he'd debated about answering at all, unsure if he could stomach another baked tray of decade expired sardines and random foraged ingredients. "Oh—hey," he said, his stomach jumping into his chest at the mere sight of you.

"Aren't you supposed to be horizontal?" you asked him, glancing at the swelling and deep bruising on his ankle. It was so swollen he couldn't even get a sock or shoe on it comfortably.

"Uhh—yer the one who knocked on my door," he retorted.

"Yeah, well, I tried to let myself in—" you brushed past him and his eyes followed you, "—but it was locked."

"Expecting someone you don't want to see?" you asked, turning to glance at him with an eyebrow cocked up.

"Mostly Carol's idea of apocalypse cookin'," he said, shutting the door and hobbling a few steps toward you. Your brow creased as you watched his careful steps.

You sighed, frowning softly. "Get back on the couch and off that ankle," you demanded.

"Did ya need somethin'?" he asked, curious why you were even there in the first place. "From you? In that condition? Absolutely not. Now go get off that damn ankle!"

Daryl obeyed this time. There were sharp pains shooting up his shin.

"Well, why didya come? Just to boss me around?"

You smiled at him, just a little one, but it touched the corners of your eyes and Daryl's heart started to race, as it always did.

"Well, despite what the others think, I happen to know your secret, Daryl," you said.

His heart, which had just been rushing, now seemed to still for a moment. "W—what?" You knew? How did you know? Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. You'd figured out that he was completely, 100%, head-over-heels for you. He didn't know how you'd put it together, what little thing he'd done, but you knew. And you were here to—what? Confront him? You set your bag down and brushed your hair out of your eyes, preoccupied while he stood completely still like an idiot, gaping at you. Wait—what had you said? 'Despite what the others think...' "My secret?" he somehow managed thickly, his tongue feeling clumsy in his mouth, as if he'd downed half a bottle of whiskey. "Yeah," you said, your smile growing into a wide grin. "Your secret. Everyone else says you want to be left alone, but I'm pretty sure you secretly enjoy being taken care of. And that's why I'm here."

He heaved a sigh of... relief? "Oh," he drawled, throwing in a low laugh, though it sounded somewhat unnatural to his ears. He ran a hand back through his wavy hair nervously, ruffling it.

"You need to stay off your feet. You can't be walking on that ankle or it will never heal. And anything you need, I'll be here."

"Anythin'?" he drawled, his face flushing subconsciously. "Might be a bit too generous."

You grinned back at him. "I don't think so."

Prompt: "Despite what the others think, I happen to know your secret." A/N: Having a great time in Switzerland! It's such a stunning country <3 Hope you appreciate this awkward Daryl as much as I do!

[m4rv3l-girl]

Saying Something Stupid

Bucky x Y/N

Sometimes things just slip out…

Requests Open!

Warnings: None. Just fluff!

The soft hum of a tune filtered through the compound’s kitchen, mingling with the gentle sizzle of something sweet in a pan.

The hour was early, most of the team still tucked away in their rooms, leaving the vast halls and polished countertops empty save for one person: Y/N. The floor was bathed in warm sunlight, casting long, golden shadows as she worked. And Bucky, who had only come down for a cold beer, paused just outside the kitchen at the sound of her voice.

She was singing softly to herself, her back to him as she swayed in time with the song. He recognized it immediately—a tune from the ‘40s that always brought a bittersweet twinge to his heart. Her voice was soft, but rich with emotion, and she sang with a quiet confidence that left him breathless.

“Don't let this parting upset you I'll not forget you, sweetheart…”

Bucky swallowed hard. It had been years since he’d heard someone sing that song, and something about hearing it here, in the compound kitchen, with Y/N at the stove, made his chest feel heavy and warm.

He didn’t dare move, just leaned his shoulder against the doorway, watching as she flipped something in the pan, still singing.

The lyrics carried him back to old dance halls and sun-dappled parks, to nights spent singing and dancing with friends who had been gone for longer than he cared to remember. But here, now, he felt something new—a warmth that filled in the cracks in his heart, a sense of belonging he hadn’t felt in years. Y/N was here, and her voice was bringing back all the good things about his past without the shadows. She brought only light.

It wasn’t until she turned, wiping her hands on a dish towel, that she saw him there. Bucky grinned sheepishly as her eyes widened in surprise.

“Bucky! How long have you been standing there?” she asked, a flush coloring her cheeks. The music fell silent as she turned off the burner, setting her utensil aside to focus on him. Her voice still held that warmth, that energy, but now there was something new: a spark of embarrassment that Bucky found incredibly endearing.

He shrugged, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Long enough to enjoy the show, Doll.”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head, but Bucky could see the delight in her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it,” he said, crossing the room to stand beside her. “That was... really somethin’.” He paused, searching for the right words. “You’ve got a beautiful voice, Kitten. I haven’t heard someone sing like that in a long time.”

Her smile softened, and she ducked her head. “It’s just a song,” she murmured, but there was a glint in her eye that told him she knew it was more.

Bucky looked at her, wondering if she knew what her singing did to him, how it lifted the shadows he often found himself lost in. She didn’t know the half of it.

“Not to me,” he said, voice dropping low, almost reverent. He could see her gaze flicker, a shiver running through her as she looked at him, something unspoken passing between them.

“Well,” she started, clearing her throat, “if you’d told me you were here, I could’ve given you a proper performance.”

He chuckled, the low rumble filling the space between them. “Wouldn’t want to distract you while you’re cookin’. Smells amazing, by the way.”

Her eyes lit up. “I had a craving for pancakes,” she said, a little too quickly, like she wanted to cover the silence that had grown between them. “Blueberry, to be specific. Want some?”

“Wouldn’t say no,” he replied, leaning back against the counter, his arms folding casually across his chest as he watched her return to the stove. She worked quickly, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over her—her face set in concentration, the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the little smile she wore when she thought he wasn’t looking.

It was moments like these that Bucky cherished. They didn’t come often, but when they did, he held onto them, savoring every detail. She filled the spaces in his life that had once felt empty, brightening the corners of his mind that had been shrouded in darkness for so long. And in this light, he found a feeling he hadn’t dared to name until now.

As she plated the pancakes and turned to him, holding out a plate with a grin, the words slipped out before he could catch them.

“Thank you, darling. I love you.”

The words hung in the air, and Bucky’s heart stopped as he realized what he’d just said. He hadn’t planned it, hadn’t even thought it, really—it had just slipped out, as natural as breathing, like it was something he’d been saying for years.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly in surprise, the plate of pancakes momentarily forgotten in her hands. There was a flicker of something in her gaze—hope, maybe, mixed with a wonder that made his stomach flip.

He cleared his throat, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I, that…was stupid..uh, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” she interrupted, a soft smile growing on her lips. “I can tell when you mean it, Bucky.”

The warmth in her voice, the tenderness in her eyes, made him feel as if his heart might burst. He swallowed, searching her face for any sign of uncertainty, but all he found was love—love for him, unspoken but unmistakable.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I did mean it.”

She stepped closer, setting the plate on the counter beside them, her gaze never leaving his. Her hand reached out, brushing his cheek with a touch so gentle it felt like a promise. “I love you too, Bucky. Always have.”

Those words, so simple, so honest, hit him harder than any battle he’d ever fought. All the walls he’d built, all the fears he’d carried, melted away in an instant. For the first time, he felt truly seen, truly known. And in that moment, he knew he was home.

He reached up, taking her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re my whole world, Doll. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She laughed, her eyes sparkling as she laced her fingers through his. “By singing in kitchens at seven in the morning, apparently.”

He chuckled, pulling her close, her warmth grounding him in a way that felt like magic. “Guess I’ll have to start waking up early more often,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into her hair.

“Please don’t,” she teased, her voice muffled against his chest. “You’re terrible in the mornings.”

He laughed, the sound deep and free, and held her tighter, knowing he’d never let her go.

——————————————————————————————————

Enjoy the fluffiness? 🤭

[mrsmnsn]

All my loving

Summary: Eddie got your cold and now you are taking care of him.

wc: 1k

warnings: pure fluff; eddie being horny (control yourself sir); a little overthinking.

Enjoy!

Three weeks ago you were sick. You came walking to your boyfriend’s house to spend the night with him and, on the way back to your place, the rain started to pour. He would have picked you up and dropped you off if it wasn’t for his little problem. His van was on the mechanic and your mom was out of town.

Feeling guilty for it, he offered to take care of you. So he came every day to make you some company, tried to cook for you and to give you back rubs. The only thing was that he didn’t mind you were sick, or he simply just forgot, because he would still kiss you in each five minutes.

“Eddie, stop it! You are going to get sick too!” You’d say to him, trying to be mad at him.

“No, you need all my loving so you can get better!” He’d said giggling and massaging your scalp. “Honestly, i can’t take you serious with you talking like that.”

“Like what?”

Again, he giggled softly at you. “Don’t worry baby, let’s try to sleep a little bit, ‘kay?”

After two weeks, you got better. No more runny nose or non-stop coughing. But then, in a blink of an eye, Eddie started to have the same symptoms you had and got your cold.

He’s been sick for a week, but there was a thing that didn’t happened to you, but it did with Eddie. He was extremely touchy, grumpy and didn’t want to let you help him. You didn’t know what was worse. His mood swings or he pretending that he wasn’t feeling terrible and wanting to do everything by himself.

Now, here you were at his house. It was raining and chilly outside. You made Eddie a tea with some cookies in the afternoon so you could watch a movie. It seemed to be the only way to keep him quiet and calm. He didn’t make it to half of it and slept on your lap.

After the movie was over, you were chopping some potatoes at the kitchen when he surrounded your waist with his arms.

“Hey sleepyhead, did you sleep well?” you said kissing his cheek and going back to chop.

“I was till you left” his voice was raspy with sleep and tiredness. He started to kiss your neck. “Whacha cookin’, hm?”

“I’m making us a soup. I thought it would be good for you.” You put all the vegetables to boil “Also, once you said Wayne liked it too, so i’m doing it”

“You could do something else, huh?” Then you felt the pressure on your lower back. Maybe his voice wasn’t raspy only because of tiredness. “What do you think?”

“I think you are crazy!” You couldn’t help but laugh “Eds, you’re sick baby.”

“But we don’t have to be face to face, you know. There’s some other positions” He said a little upset “Like that, you wouldn’t get sick again.”

“No Eddie. That’s not the point.” You took his hands and led him to his bedroom “Now, why don’t you take your clothes off and… NOT FOR THAT!” you said seeing his mischievous smirk. “I’ll give you a shower and then we can eat some, how’s that?”

He stayed in silence for a while and then he close the space between you two and hugged you tightly. You returned it. He was needy. Begging to all the metal gods so this could be over and he could have all of you again. All of you just for him.

“I know sweetie, this will be over soon, alright?” You knew he needed some loving as well.

“Alright.” You two walked to the bathroom. You started to wash his hair, massaging his hair, and he started to hum quietly.

“I’m sorry baby” he said apologetically with his eyes closed, feeling you wash his hair

“For what Ed?”

“You’re being extremely nice and i’m being grumpy all day.” You looked at him opening his eyes. His big brown eyes shining for you. “You don’t deserve it”

“What’re you saying? You’re sick Eddie! No one is happy to have a cold, you know.” You said talking the soap “When i was sick, you took care of me. Now i’m doing the same for you and, very soon, you’ll be better. Just do me a favor?”

“Anything sweetheart.” His voice was funny. Now you understand why he was always laughing at your voice.

“Stop thinking too much. Finish your shower. Go and put some nice pijamas and come to the living room so we can eat dinner and be together.”

That was exactly what he did. He sat beside you on the couch. He was eating his soup and a grilled cheese you made for him. “Damn, that’s so good. If it means you’re making this every time i get sick, then i wanna be sick everyday.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” The shower seemed to be helpful. He was feeling better.

In two hours Eddie was on the edge of sleep, trying to keep a conversation with you.

“Why don’t we continue this tomorrow?”

“Are you going to sleep here?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I do. Very much.”

“Then i will” He forgot you came here with a bag of clothes for the weekend

“I love you so fucking much”

“I love you too. So fucking much.”

When Wayne came in, Eddie was far gone on your lap. You offered him your soup and tried to take Eddie to his bedroom. You were on Wayne’s bed after all.

“Thank you hun. For taking care of my boy” He said eating the soup. “Damn, that’s so good”

You laughed at his reaction which was the same as Eddie’s. “Glad you liked it. And it’s nothing. You know i love him.”

[cranberryjuice-posts]

- this butch this butch -

Pairings - Butch Abby x housewife! Milf! reader

IMPORTANT - takes Place in the 40’s / Abby is referred to as Abby and is written with He/Him pronouns UNTIL reader finds out she’s a she

If ur currious what the Lingerie looked like

Tw - SHITTY SMUT‼️‼️ oral sex, fingering, erm that’s abt it guys it takes place in the 40’s idk 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

An - the smut is like kinda at the end and short bc idk

Rushing around the house you struggled to prepare dinner. Tonight was important, your father had decided to come by for dinner bringing along his understudy Andy Anderson, your husband was currently out in the living room entertaining your father and your baby girl June was currently playing on the kitchen floor with her blocks.

“Ok ok.. steak for main course and I’ll do lobster bisque for the appetizer” you mumbled while grabbing the ingredients you needed.

“Mama” your daughter asked from where she sat, walking over to your todler you crouched down to her smiling. “Yes baby?”

“Square” she held up a block. Letting out a content sigh you took the wooden toy from your daughter, setting it aside you kissed her forehead. “Yes baby that’s a square, now mommy has to take care of dinner ok so be a good girl and play with your toys” Getting back up you returned to your meal prep.

After an hour the door opened, stepping in John. As he entered the kitchen your dusted the flour off of your hands while he found his way over to you, bending down he placed a soft kiss on your lips before heading towards the liquor cabinet. “John.. common I’m making dinner and June is up, can’t you wait until later”

He didn’t respond. “John p—“

“I heard you the first time” he snapped. Your breath caught in your throat, being married to your husband for the past 6 years you’ve learned quickly about his temper. And his hand.

Nodding slowly you started baking again. Checking on your soup June started crying as she hit her hand on a chair. “Your daughter is crying” John spoke as he prepared two glasses. “Yes.. uh could you please get her I’m sorry I’m just busy with dinner”

John however ignored you, walking out while heading back towards the living room. “God..” you sighed with your daughter practically screaming, before you could walk over to her the door opened once again making you pause in your step, being faced to face with a long forgotten crush of yours.. Andy . “Oh my god Andy I— please you don’t-“ you stumbled against your words while you tried to clean yourself up some. Andy chuckled shaking his head while picking up June. “It’s ok, I don’t mind helping out”

“Thank you” giving him a grateful smile. Sitting down at the counter Andy started to watch as your Finshed your meal. Normally you preferred being in the kitchen alone, but Andy was different. Being around him made you happy, it also didn’t help that he was insanely attractive. His strong arms and short well kept Blonde hair, and for some reason being around him gave you this flustered feeling. It was a wonder how he hadn’t been swooped up by some lucky woman .“so how’s your marriage going” Andy asked drawing your attention.

“Hm? Me oh it’s going.. nothing to bad though” you chuckled trying to make light of the situation. “Oh by the way Andy could you please take June out and set her in her high chair? You’d be doing me a major favor” you pleadingly asked, he of coursed nodded leaving to do as you asked.

——

All you asked for was a normal dinner. Sitting across the table from you was Andy. You knew he liked you, you may of been younger than him by a couple years but you could tell how he tried to peek at your cleavage through your dress or how he appreciated your victory curls. Though you didn’t mind the attention as it was more than you received from your husband.

Cleaning up the now emptied plates, you smiled as your dad complimented your cooking skills. “Aw dad it’s nothing to write home about”

“Ha! As if im Gonna Need you to start cookin for me every night” he laughed pulling a cigar out his pocket. Going outside you expected your husband to follow him the same as Andy only this time he followed you to the kitchen. “Well I think tonight went gr—“ the next thing you knew your jaw hit the sink then you laid on the floor.

“First thing Sunday you will go to the priest and confess about how you practically eye fucked another man infront of me.” John simply spoke while adjusting his shirt sleeve. “What?” You quietly asked, your tears staining the floor bellow you.

He scoffed. “Don’t act suprised you knew what you were doing. I saw how you act with Andy. Clean yourself up and get this nasty kitchen cleaned as well” he harshly spoke before leaving.

———

“Annnd here’s mommy” Andy smiled as he brought June into the kitchen, your daughter laughing excitedly. Almost immediately Andy noticed your closed off stance. Setting your daughter down He mumbled “Go find your grandpa ok” making sure the young girl was gone he made his way towards you

“What’s wrong” he asked standing behind you. You both had known each-other for a few years at this point, thus a friendship had grown over time. “Nothing” you mumbled.

He knew. You knew he knew. It was obivous. A small stain of blood on the floor, the first aid kit open and your formerly perfect curls now distressed.

Letting out a deep sigh he moved to be Standing beside you at the sink, now rinsing off the dishes he stayed quiet. “I’ve got it Andy”

He shrugged his shoulders “I know.”

“Andy this is a woman’s job please” You tried to push him back only he didn’t move. Giving up you stepped back watching while Andy finished off the plates putting them now in the drying rack.

Turning around He dried his hands before gently grabbing your face, rubbing a thumb over your bruising cheek and jaw. His critical gaze felt as though he knew how you felt. Your pain. Your cheeks flushed somewhat from his touch. Without realizing it you leaned into Andy kissing him.

A moment later you pulled back realizing he hadn’t kiss you back. “I’m sorry” you covered the bottom half of your face while holding your head low. “No no.. it’s not you trust me” his tone shocked as he quickly tried to assure you— you were in the right by squeezing your arms. “Your absolutely perfect in every way it’s just that.. there’s some stuff about me that you wouldn’t approve of, that would make you reject me”

Looking up confused you tilted your head. “What is it..” keeping eye contact with him. You knew he wouldn’t tell you without you putting up a fight. “I swear on everything Andy that I won’t tell.. if I do then you can tell John how I kissed you…. So please what is it” debating for a moment he finally sighed giving into you. Taking his hands away from you but keeping your bodies close he untucked his shirt pulling it open.

That’s when you realized it. Andy wasn’t a man.. rather he was a woman. “Your..”

“Yeah..” she sighed, Closing her shirt. “My Name is Abigail— Abby for short, not Andy. Legally a few years ago I changed my name to Andy because I couldn’t stand the thought of being a mans wife. So I changed. I changed everything about me and I ended up landing a pretty good spot at your fathers company” she slightly chuckled.

You kept your hands towards your chest. Out of everything Andy actually being named Abigail and being a woman was not what you expected. Pulling your eyes away from Abby you finally reached out, softly touching her chest which was covered by a thin tanktop. You felt the woman’s breath falter.

Standing on your tippy toes once again you placed your lips onto Abby’s. It was a quick peck. “Your not disgusted” she asked quietly with her hands on the counter behind you. “No.. if anything you being a woman makes you even more attractive”

That was all it took before Abby quickly jerking you into her kissing you hungerily. Bringing your hands to the girls face and wrapping an arm around her neck you deepend the kiss with Abby’s hands finding that special spot in your back as if to say ‘she’s got you’.

You’ve heard of lesbians before. It was a new term but still far away from being a socially acceptable term. From an early age you knew you liked women. It was hard not to but you knew that it was either conform to society and marry a man, have a kid and a family or be an outcast and alone forever. However in this moment you were prepared to throw everything out of the window if it meant to be with her

Pulling back you panted keeping Abby close. “John’s gonna leave.. he says it’s because the office needs him but I know he’s going to fuck his secretary. Midnight come by at 12, I know he won’t be back til morning and June will be long asleep” stepping back from the woman you tried to fix your curls in the mirror on the liquor cabinet. “The back door will be unlocked for you”

“What are You saying” she chuckled fixing her shirt some, Abby’s cheeks were completely red. “You know what I’m saying..” looking back over at her, there was this unspoken agreement between you both.

“Ok. I’ll be back at 12:00am sharp” she gave a small smile, kissing you softly once again.

———

Just as You Said John had left soon after your father. Spending the next hour you put June to bed, now leaving you with three hours to get ready.

Once midnight came around Abby walked in through the back door of your house finding it unlocked like you promised. Making her way upstairs she stopped at your door. Hesitant like this was all some fucked up dream. After a small mental pep talk she softly knocked on the door before stepping in.

Stepping inside the woman paused. You stood by your bed wearing a black lingerie set. The simple black bra and silk shorts with fishnets underneath. A few candles were lit and your hair redone. Shyly standing fiddling with your hands.

“My god.” Abby spoke breathless as she closed the door. Walking to you she held your hips admiring your body. “I.. I tried, um.. I had originally got this for John and I’s sixth anniversary but I figured this was a much better occasion”

Abby leaned forward trailing soft kisses from your jaw to your lips. Her hands dragged up loving your skin while you kissed. Bitting your bottom lip you let out a soft moan allowing Abby to slip her tongue in.

The kiss repeating multiple times until she pushed you down onto the bed. Her knee finding itself between your legs. “Off” she whispered. “What?” You asked breathless. Abby hooked her finger under the bra strap pulling it down. Once realizing you quickly took the top off setting it aside.

The blonde kissed down your neck, finding her way to your breast. Licking over the sensitive nipple she smiled as you tried to hold back a moan. Sucking on your breast she showed the same love towards the other with her hand.

She rhymathically rubbed her knee against your aching core. Covering your mouth you tried your best to hide a loud cry. Feeling yourself grow wetter you couldn’t help but start to grind your hips against the woman’s leg.

“Abby..” you softly cried grabbing at her short mannish hair. “I know sweet girl I know” she whispered still kissing your chest. Switching her mouth to the second revelishing in the fact you never felt like this with your husband.

Letting go of your nipple with a pop like sound she stood up from where she previously was. Taking off her suspenders Abby made quick work of her button down and pants leaving her in her briefs and wife beater pleaser. Taking a moment to admire Abby’s muscular physique, you looked away embarrassed

Getting down into her knees she pulled you to the edge of the bed. Bringing your underwear and fishnet socks down Abby had to restrain herself from loosing control. After your daughter birth you never managed to loose all the pregnancy weight, your lower half of stomach having a noticeable pudge with dark stretch marks.

Feeling Abby’s eyes on you, you tried to hide your stomach with your hands however she forced them away. “Abby please it’s disgusting”

“Oh sweet sweet girl.. it’s the furthest thing from disgusting, baby I’m having to restrain myself even now from fucking your senseless. You are the most attractive woman I’ve ever laid eyes on”

Her words making you turn red. Embarrassed still you stopped resisting Abby’s gaze and let yourself relax. Watching as the woman positioned herself between you, she looked up asking for your permission. You nodded at first which she didn’t appreciate “common sweet girl I need you to give me a yes or I’m not doing anything”

“Yes damnit Abby” you whined. She grinned at your neediness, not wanting to make you wait any longer she leaned in kissing your clit.

A whole new feeling of pleasure courses through your body as you felt Abby start to suck on your sensitive bud. Lapping her tongue through your folds and even teasing your throbbing hole.

Trying to keep quiet you gave soft breathy moans while having a firm grip on her hair. Abby tightly held your thighs as she continued to sloppily lick at you, your juices running down her chin.

Abby looked up at you slapping your thigh to get your attention you looked down. Her free hand now running lines with her thumb over your sopping cunt. “You keep your eyes on me, if you don’t then I’ll stop” agreeing faster than you should of you kept your gaze down at the blonde

Abby knew she wasn’t one to deny you, almost immediately going back to what she had previously been doing.

After taking a few moments she slipped a finger into you. Moaning loud you covered your mouth worried your daughter might wake up. There was a momentarily pause where you both kept an ear out incase June had indeed woken up. You could feel Abby laughing against your leg making you softly hit you with your thigh.

She rolled her eyes before moving back down between your legs. Her thick finger moving in and out as she continued to suck on your clit you felt a long forgotten feeling building up. Abby knew you were close, by how your breath started to increase and how you started to grind yourself against her face wanting— needing more.

Before you realized it yourself you had came. Falling back as you had no strength to keep yourself up, Abby continued to lick at you until you were completely cleaned.

Coming back up she towered over you pinning you down to the bed capturing you in one final kiss.

———

Laying in your bed together both nude you laughed softly as abby held you close finding one of the dumb jokes she had told you amusing. Hiding your face in her neck you realized that this was where you always wanted to be. To be in her arms, to be in her bed, hearing her dumb jokes, To be her wife.

“Abby” you mumbled against her skin.

“Yeah” she Hummed while playing with one of your curls. “John’s gettin enlisted into the army for the war. He told me a week ago. He leaves in a few days.. while he’s gone if he comes back alive I’ll divorce him and if he dies it’ll make this next part easier.” You spoke with a gentle tone.

Pulling back from Abby you shifted around until you sat up looking down at her. “I’ve known you since I was 18.. the past 8 years I couldn’t of asked for a better friend and now I know what I want.. Abigail Anderson. I want you to be mine.. in public you will be my husband but behind closed doors, in the comfort of our home and in our bedroom away from prying eyes you will be my wife”

Abby stayed quiet for a moment. Trying to search her eyes for an answer you noticed as the strong woman started to cry. Worried you said something wrong you tried to speak but were quickly cut off by her sitting up to kiss you. “I would like nothing more then that.. my wife” she pulled you into her hugging you close.

[ruwhimsical]

“COOKIN’ IN THE KITCHEN AND I’M IN THE BED ROOM.”

a sneak peek of what a domestic morning would look like with your househusband, Osamu! 

cw : sickeningly sweet , suggestive (no smut) , fluff fluff fluff , short drabble , ib @dearru :3!!

The sound of light snoring echoes throughout the room as two bodies were entangled, one comfortably in slumber. Osamu had ensured to stay as still as possible—he didn’t want to wake you up, you looked far too comfortable using him as a human pillow.

Osamu couldn’t help but gaze at your bare sleeping figure, littered with reminders of his love from last night, with pure adoration—oh, how he loved slow mornings like this. It wasn’t every day he got to spend time with you. After all, you were both working adults—your 9-to-5 corporate job and his business keeping you both busy. He reached out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear, but the movement must’ve woken you. You stirred, and Osamu paused, before a smile spread across his face.

“Hey, my love.”

Your eyes slowly opened, landing on your one and only husband. It felt so unreal calling such a kind, loving, and fine man your own. You felt so blessed to wake up to a beautiful view like him. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his musky scent before returning his greeting.

“Hey, handsome.”

The vibration of your muffled voice against his bare skin sent a shiver down his spine, causing him to hold you a little tighter, not wanting to let this moment go to waste. But with morning comes responsibility. Although Osamu would love to rot in bed with you all day, he knew he couldn’t.

He was reminded of his duty as your personal chef once he heard your tummy growl.

“Looks like someone needs to be fed after last night.” Flashbacks of yesterday crept into your mind, and you lightly hit his shoulder before looking up at him. God, how could someone look so good at any angle?

“You’re not funny… make me some French toast,” you grumbled as Osamu stood up, grabbing his discarded sweatpants from the floor and pulling them on.

“And that’s exactly what you’ll get.” He gave you a quick peck on the forehead before heading out of the room. The once-filled room grew dim as you lay there, contemplating whether to follow him to the kitchen.

—

“You should’ve just stayed in bed. I would’ve brought it to you,” Osamu said with a chuckle as you emerged from your shared bedroom.

“It was lonely without you.”

He laughed softly at your response. Missing his warmth, you wrapped your arms around his muscular build from behind, your bare chest pressing against his back, now decorated with faint red marks from the night before.

“I’m almost finished making breakfast. Could you set up the plates, please?”

You waited a moment longer, savoring the closeness, before squeezing his torso and walking toward the cabinets to retrieve the cutlery. You placed them on the table for two, just in time for Osamu to place your freshly made French toast on the plate. The sight of the food alone was enough to make you eager to devour it, but you patiently waited for him to join you before digging in.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, his mouth already full of toast and fresh berries.

“You’re the best cook after all .” You looked at him with a fondness that words couldn’t describe. Never in a million years would you have imagined yourself here, but you were grateful for every single moment of it.

© banner and writing belongs to ruwhimsical 2024. do not repost

mlist

[only-lonely-star]

hi! Can you do a Curtis sister imagine (she's older than pony but younger than soda) and the boys are sooo protective over her and scare away any boys who look at her so they think she's never even kissed a guy. Then she's at home alone and thinks the boys won't be home for a while and is making out with a guy in her room when Darry bursts in with the boys and they all lose their minds

୨୧ Not What It Looks Like ୨୧

~ Curtis Brothers (Curtis Sibling Reader)~

Warnings - Kissing, mild shouting and cursing, mild violence

Summary - You thought you had hours…

Author’s Note - Hii! I won’t be as busy this week so I’ll be sure to finish more requests as the week progresses, so sorry for the wait! Thank you so so much for the request, this one was fun to write, enjoy! 😽🫶🏼

Word Count - 2.4k.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄☆ ⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

(Quick A/N || I decided to name the boy’s character ‘Thomas’ just because I find it easier than saying ‘the boy’ a hundred times or something 😭)

The Curtis residence was always a busy place. Whether friends were over, or it was just another chaotic night - there was never a dull moment. Tonight, however, you were declared as '(Wo)Man of the House' by your oldest brother, Darrel. Ponyboy and Sodapop didn't seem to mind lending you the title for the night, you did most of the housekeeping and whatnot anyway.

Ponyboy could be found slicking his hair back, standing in front of the bathroom mirror attempting to look tuff - or so he thought. Sodapop was occupied with Darrel, the pair pacing around the house as they rallied themselves up for the night. They were all going on a ‘guys night out’…whatever that meant. You were standing around, waiting to wave them off for the night.

Ponyboy emerged from the bathroom, a look of excitement in his eye as he approached the others.

“You ready?” Darrel asked, giving him a firm pat on the back, smiling down to him. Ponyboy nodded and hooked his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, admiring Sodapop who stood beside him.

“Finally, took you ‘bout an hour to grease that hair up,” Sodapop chuckled, gently grazing his fingertips along the swoops of Ponyboy’s hair, combed back to utter perfection.

You let out a small sigh, a knowing grin creeping up on your face. You dismissed it as relief that your three rowdy brothers would give you some alone time. “So, are you guys…leaving…yet?”

Darrel raised an eyebrow, slowly stepping for the door as the other two followed. “Boy, someone sure is sick of us,” he snorted, the doorknob in the palm of his hand.

You sarcastically played along, shoving Sodapop and Ponyboy by the back of their shoulders with a scoff. “Sure am, get out.”

They exchanged small glances, Ponyboy holding up his hands in defense. “We’re goin’, we’re goin’…”

It didn’t take long for the two to file out, Darrel staying behind to have a word with you. He popped his hand on his hip, the other moving a stray strand of hair to rest behind your ear. His eyes met yours, a look of concern etched on his face. “Listen, you know I don’t like leaving you home alone,” he began, sensing your rebuttal a mile away.

“I’ll be fine, you ain’t gotta worry,” you assured him, your voice a rather gentle one. You knew that was the key to fooling him - it always was.

Darrel took your word for it, wrapping up his lecture before it even began. “No boys, no cookin’, no driving,” he spoke with finality, his index finger pointed to you as he reinforced the rules he set since the loss of your parents.

“I know!” you exclaimed, mildly frustrated with how protective he was acting. It would only be a few hours before he, Ponyboy, and Sodapop returned. It wasn’t like you were about to cause a disaster home alone - you’d done this countless times.

Darrel shook his head, wrapping an arm around the small of your back as yours wrapped around his chest. “Be back at eleven,” he murmured, pulling away and stepping outside the front door. You stepped outside as well, your feet kept on the steps as your brothers began to cruise on down the road. Waving them off with a smile, the boys reciprocated before disappearing into the horizon of the night sky.

You leaped for the side of the house, looking around frantically with a giggle of excitement. Your voice echoed, a mix of a whisper yet a beckon. “Thomas! Thomas, where are - …”

A hand grabbed your forearm, the boy hoisting himself up from within the small bushes along the side of your house. “I’m here.”

You leaped into his arms, picking away at small twigs and leaves that had fallen into his messy brown hair. Your legs wrapped around his waist the gentle feeling of your body against his, the boy’s hands holding you up from your hips. You chuckled, feeling the sweat practically dripping from his hair as you pecked his cheek. “How long have you been out here? I told you seven p.m!”

Thomas spun you around a few times before walking towards the front door that still stood wide open. “I left my place around six-forty, got here a minute ago,” he replied softly, carefully setting you down on the soft, beige sofa.

Your arms still yearned for him, even as he took a seat beside you, resting his arm over the top of the couch. He had only love in his eyes, admiring you from head to toe. “So, what’s the verdict?” he posed, grinning down at you, his free hand running through his hair.

“No boys,” you restated, remembering Darrel’s rules with a small sigh of annoyance. You’d gone this far anyway - so what did it matter? “But Darry said he’ll be back ‘round eleven with Soda and Ponyboy.”

Thomas’s grin only widened from there, settling himself into the couch further. “Oh so we got lots of time, hm?”

You tilted your head to the side, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Somethin’ like that,”

This felt a little too risky, sneaking a boy around in the living room of all places. They wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, but it still felt strange. Standing from the sofa, you tugged on Thomas’s wrist. “Let’s go to my room, I don’t feel safe here,” you joked, a small shake of your head as you glanced to the unlocked door. Thomas was more than happy to oblige, following you to your very empty yet feminine bedroom.

“So this is the little hide-out, huh?” he spoke teasingly as he glanced around, taking in the sight of clothes everywhere and a small vanity pushed to the corner of the room, across from your bed. He shut the door behind him, hesitating on whether to lock it or not. You sat down on the edge of the pink, ruffled bedding, clutching a pillow into your arms tightly.

“I guess it is,” you smiled softly, his charming gaze reeling you right in to where he wanted you. He stood in front of you, his hand moving to cup your jaw. You didn’t mind the touch of course, you were addicted to any touch from him.

Thomas removed his hand before sitting on the bed beside you, reaching out for the pillow. You reluctantly let go of it, knowing Thomas was about to make a bold move of some sort. You two were alone and absolutely infatuated with each other. He set the pillow aside, pressing his hand to your waist as he leaned his head closer to yours. “You’re beautiful,” he grinned, closing the distance between the two of you as his lips met yours.

Your eyes darted shut, one hand holding you propped up, the other resting atop his shoulder. This was no short peck, this was a deep and almost passionate kiss. You obviously reciprocated, the situation of being home alone too good to go to waste. You doubled his passion and added force to your kisses. Thinking fast, Thomas began to lean back as his head rested against the mattress. His hand found your waist, pulling your body flush against his. Thomas could feel your grin against his lips, his other hand moving to keep your jaw in his palm, ensuring your kisses didn’t stop any time soon. You pulled away panting, your smile never once faltering. “I think we should stop, I hear a car…” you began to say, a car door shutting nearby. The sound was eerily close - but then again your brothers weren’t scheduled to be home for a few hours.

Thomas gave a firm head shake, pulling your jaw closer. “Nope, it hasn’t even been an hour,” he reminded you, locking his lips onto yours once more.

You weren’t about to turn him down, so you did as told and continued, your head moving up and down with slight movements. Thomas’s tongue slipped in between your lips, the sensation was both new and a bit alarming. A small groan left your now parted lips, running your hand through his hair.

The sound of shuffling feet outside your bedroom door should’ve been a dead giveaway to stop - but your mind was cloudy and only focused on Thomas. It was far too late to stop now, even as the doorknob turned and you were aware someone was home, you didn’t have the time to stop.

“I forgot to bring my w-…” Darrel began, the door opening in a swift movement as he stood in the doorway absolutely baffled. His knuckles were now white as he squeezed onto the brown leather wallet in the palm of his hand. His instincts led him to toss the wallet with all of the force he could muster, landing directly on the boy you were laid atop of.

You pulled away in an instant, a small trail of shared saliva being wiped away using the back of your hand as the soft groans came to an immediate halt.

Your other brothers, Ponyboy and Sodapop, stood behind Darrel with displeased looks. “Come on, it doesn’t take this long to -…” Sodapop was quickly hushed as he too caught sight of scene.

Darrel stomped forward, his hands shaking with anger as he shouted at Thomas - the boy unbeknownst to their early arrival. “Get the hell out, the fuck are you doing with my little sister-?!” he shouted, his fists unraveling themselves to tug at Thomas’s shirt, stretching it out as he yanked him closer for answers.

You had never heard Darrel shout like that ever. You sprinted off the bed and stood in the opposite corner of the room as you watched Thomas nearly get a beating for the kiss.

Sodapop caught you off guard, his hand firmly grasping your bicep as his eyes bore into yours. “Who’s this boy?” he asked, his tone filled with utter disappointment - but at least it wasn’t anger like Darrel’s.

“It’s not what it looks like - Thomas and I just…” you began sheepishly, your eyes unable to make eye contact with him out of guilt.

Your eyes flickered over to Darrel briefly, watching him holler like you’d never seen before. Thomas nodded his head along vigorously, his eyes wide with fear as he desperately tried to free himself from Darrel’s grasp. Ponyby’s annoyed voice snapped you out of it, your attention directed towards him. “That boy from school? Really?”

Sodapop spoke up again, shoving your shoulder slightly as his expression held a stern look. “It don’t matter where he’s from, you know you ain’t allowed to have boys over.”

You glanced between Sodapop and Darrel, watching as he had to drag Thomas out of your bedroom, the yelling not yet ending. You swallowed the guilt down and nervously chewed the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry~” you began, your hands fidgeting as you thought about the hour long lecture you’d receive from Darrel.

Sodapop began mumbling words of annoyance under his breath at the newfound information you’d had some secret boyfriend going on. None of your brothers ever would have expected such a thing from you - hell, the last thing they would suspect from you was to be caught kissing some boy while they were gone. “Can’t trust her… we just can’t…” he mumbled to Ponyboy who looked equally as pissed.

Moments later, Darrel had his jaw still clenched with Thomas now long gone. He made his way to you with his fists balled up and resting by his sides. “You’ve got explaining to do,” he grumbled, his voice thick with anger. You’d betrayed his trust, Sodapop’s, and even Ponyboy’s.

Exhaling deeply, you took a step back, your hand trembling in fear. “I just thought -…” your voice was interrupted by Darrel’s.

“It would be fun to sneak a boy around? Behind our backs? Especially after I said no boys?” His arms crossed as his stern gaze seemed to deepen further.

You didn’t reply, you stood there matching his stance only yours was out of shame. You knew you were going against their set rules.

Darrel shook his head as he let out a sigh he’d been holding in for way too long. “We just wanna protect you, that’s all. That’s all I want,” he said in a somehow gentle tone, wrapping an arm around your back, the other gesturing for a group hug.

Sodapop and Ponyboy circled around you, hugging you tightly. It felt as if the mood had lightened a bit now that Thomas was gone and you were back in the protective arms of your brothers. Sodapop nuzzled his forehead against the top of your head, chuckling softly. “So you’ve had some boyfriend all along?”

Darrel stiffened but held back from lashing out yet again. Ponyboy grimaced and swatted your back with a teasing snort. “Him of all people too?”

You broke the hug off, having to pry off their arms as you finally cracked a sheepish smile. “Not anymore - I think Darry traumatized that poor guy,” you giggled, the guilt subsiding to a feeling of amusement. Sure it was a messy way to break the ice with your brothers - but it was bound to happen eventually.

Darrel gave your back a firm pat, Ponyboy and Sodapop stepping for the door to your bedroom, snickering and cracking jokes. “I forgot my wallet, I came back and thought I’d check on you,” he explained, picking up the wallet he used on Thomas.

You winced at the memory of it hitting him upside the head, the shock initially hitting you as you scrambled off of him. “I was wondering why you came so early…” you remarked playfully.

“I know why you were tryin’ to kick us out so bad now,” Darrel shot back, an equal amount of sarcasm laced in his voice. He shoved the leather wallet back into his pocket.

He stepped for the door to your bedroom once more, glancing back at you. “No boys. Ever.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, stepping closer to him to argue on the topic. Darrel was already down the hallway as you chased him down. “You said when i’m eighteen - …”

Darrel cracked open the front door with a head shake. “Eighteen, but I better not catch you and *Thomas* again,” he huffed, hopping down the stairs, his feet on the white cement, “or any boy for that matter.”

You sighed and waved him off for a second time, this time with the intention of following the rules. You vowed you’d never risk something like that again. “Eighteen!”

[hoes4matthew]

Cookin'

Warnings: smut / handjob / sub chirs / praise / bad spelling/grammar / very little plot

Summary: Jerking Chris off while he cooks.

A/N: this was gonna be for his birthday but oh well. Also, this fic came into my head because of this edit: here!!

You walk out into the kitchen to see Chris cooking some pancakes. He wasn't the best cook, but you wouldn't tell him that. Even if he wasn't the best you always appreciated when he cooked for the two of you.

He looked over to you and smiled before looking back at the pancakes, carefully flipping one over. You walked over behind him, very slowly wrapping your hands around his waist.

His breathing hitched, his face going bright red and getting all hot. He looked down at your hands around his waist, getting even more flustered. He nearly forgot he had to take the pancake off the stove.

"Morning." You put your chin on his shoulder, watching as he poured more pancake batter onto the pan. I took him a moment to reply, his brain slightly fogged up just from your simple actions.

"G- Goodmorning.." He shuddered out as you rubbed your hands up and down his waist. He could feel himself getting more and more turned on...just from this. He silently prayed you wouldn't notice the obvious bulge forming in his pants.

Your hands began to wander downward, you watched as he gently gripped onto the spatula, his eyes shut slightly. He let out a very soft sigh as he opened his eyes again, flipping the pancake over with shaky hands.

Your one hand moved over to cup his bulge very gently. He let out a choked moan, dropping the spatchla on the table. He moved his hands to your wrist quickly, his jaw going slack.

"Shh. Just be good f' me and keep cooking." He let out a quiet whimper, letting go of your wrist and grabbing the spatchla again. He took the, now slightly brut, pancake off the pan and onto the plate he had next to him.

His eyes moved back down to your hands. You slowly undid his pant string. Pulling down his pants along with his under. His painful hard dick springing out. He cursed under his breath.

"What did I say? Keep cooking." His knees bucked slightly as you wrapped your hand around his dick. He quickly nodded, standing up straight with shaky legs.

"Y- yes ma'am." He said shyly as he poured more batter onto the pan. Your hand moved slowly up and down on him. Little moans and whines coming from him.

Your hand moved faster, your thumb brushing against his tip teasingly and he grabbed the spatchla. His moans got louder, his knees going weak. You held him up as best as you could. He flipped over the pancake, bitting down on his lip as your hand continues to pick up speed.

His eyes shut from the pleasure, leaning backwards into you. Loud moans and begs came out of his mouth as you worked your hand around him. It didn't take him long to completely forget about the pancakes.

"I'm close!" He managed to squeak out, his legs shaking ever so slightly. He opened his eyes, making eye contact with you as he moaned out your name.

"cum for me, baby." You barely even finished your sentence before spurts of cum came out his dick, whining out your name as he did. He lowered his head slightly, letting out a content sigh.

"oh shit-" he stood up straight the best he could, quickly turning off the stove. Coughing slightly at the smell of brut pancake. He waved the smoke away, flipping over the pancake to see it was fully burnt.

"Well I guess that's one less pancake.'' He sighed, putting it on a paper towel and throwing it away. His eyes moved down to his shaky legs, turning off the stove before walking over to the dining table and sitting down.

"Did I do that?" You joked, you knew you were the only one who made his legs shake. The only one who made him weak in the knees. The only one who could make him scream.

He just looked up at you, shaking his head slightly with a smirk on his face. He pulled his pants and underwear up, leaning back in the chair and trying to catch his breath.

"only you, ma."

@dev-sturns @1c3b4th @fratboychrisera

[aliceinborderlandscrolls]

Candy Sushi

Chishiya Shuntarō x reader

Come on, it’ll be fun!

Fluff

“Chishi.” I tugged lightly on his white jacket that I held between my fingers.

He let out an annoyed sigh, too tired to tell me not to call him that… Again.

“If you’re going to ask me about the others, they’re fine.” He said.

“But…” I thought back to the last time we saw our group of friends. The grenade that separated us and the King Of Spades chasing after them, “What if something happened? What if the King of Spades got them?”

“Perhaps.” His response left the uneasy feeling in my stomach to grow.

“This is my fault.” I clenched his jacket tighter, “If I only ran faster or had thrown that stupid grenade towards the king then maybe-”

“What’s done is done. You can’t change the past, but you can save yourself for a future.” He glanced at me, “I need you to focus on now so that the two of us have a chance out of here.”

I took in the heaviness of his words and straightened myself up. I gave him a firm nod, “You’re right.”

“Hello! Would you like to be in our group?” And thus began the game of hearts.

With a cheery voice I rarely hear from Chishiya he agreed, “Of course!” He said and I knew he had a plan.

An hour passed with round one being a breeze. Everyone seemed to trust each other… That is until Banda.

“The Jack wouldn’t be stupid enough to jump start the anxiety of the players like this…” I whispered to Chishiya, “Why does he look familiar?” I wondered.

“He murdered four women. It was on the news.” Chishiya answered.

He watched Banda closely, an uneasy feeling in his stomach as Banda stared at his friend. At least you can’t murder anyone outside of lying about their suits.

“A murderer?” My eyes widened as I looked at Banda only to find him already looking, “He’s looking… Now he’s waving? Why is he waving?” I stepped closer to Chishiya.

“Seems like you have a new admirer.” Was all he said.

“Hey!” I whispered lighting punching his side, “Wait, a new one? When did I have an old one?” I wondered.

Chishiya didn’t answer, “Let’s go.” towards a room stocked with food that could last us months if need be. The Jack of Hearts really did plan for everything… But who could that be?

My gaze lingered on each player here, but it was still too big of a group to tell.

“So much food…” My stomach growled at the rows of snacks that filled the room.

Chishiya chuckles, “Take whatever you want. We’ll be here a while.”

I grabbed anything and everything that was strawberry flavored and a box of Kracie Popin’ Cookin’ Sushi DIY Candy set before quickly making my way towards Chishiya who sat a little away from our so called group. My attention focused on the man and woman who has been attached by the hip since we got here. The woman was practically draping on him like a blanket.

“I’ve always wanted to try one of these.” I smiled, my facing lighting up at such a childish thing.

Chishiya made a face at the box, “Those are disgusting.”

I gasped, “You’ve tried one of these before?”

“When I was younger.” He answered.

“Well then that means you just have to make one again. Just to be sure.” I smiled, pushing the box in between us.

“No thanks.” He said plainly as he took a bite of his cookie.

“The only thing that I’m hearing from you is excitement.” I stated as I opened the box.

Chishiya rolled his eyes, but indulged me none the less. He shoulder pressed against mine as I read the instructions out loud. He found it amusing and in a way cute at how I was so involved in such a trivial thing when they were literally fighting to stay alive.

“I can just show you.” He murmured and I almost said yes from that low tone of voice lulling me to do whatever he wanted. That is until he said, “It’s pretty easy.”

I tilted my head towards him, our noses almost brushing as I raised an eyebrow, “You don’t think I can do it?”

His smirk only egged me on and it was then I realized how close we were.

I blushed, turning my head back to the Candy as I passed him the tools and ingredients to make the salmon roe sushi and the tuna sushi, “Alright, Chishi. Bake off. Whoever makes the best candy sushi wins.”

“Why can’t I have the chirashi sushi?” He asked as if he were five.

“Because it kinda sounds like your name so it’s mine.” I stated without thinking.

“My name is yours?” He teased.

I stuttered over my words before settling on a, “Shut up.”

He raised his arms up in mock surrender before starting on his half of the Candy sushi. There was a calming silence as we worked on making something that would probably taste like artificial flavors and childhood dreams, but getting to do something like this with him… It made my chest ache in the possibility of a future more than friendship between us.

I giggled lightly as he snagged one of my strawberry pocky’s, already done with his sushi.

I stared at them in amazement, “How…?” I glanced over to my chirashi sushi that looked as if it were falling apart. “How did you make it so perfect?”

He glanced at the Candy sushi with mild disinterest, “I’m good with my hands.”

“Apparently. What were you before all this? A surgeon?” I joked as I finished up my tuna roll.

“Doctor actually.”

I didn’t respond, focusing intently on my Candy as warmth filled my stomach at the thought. How did he possibly get even more attractive?

Chishiya seemed to figure out my thoughts, “Hm… That’s interesting.”

I looked to him confused, “What is?”

“You’re tuna looks more like slime.” He commented.

I laughed at the sight because it did in fact look like slime, “Well it seems that you win on the pretty factor… But! There is still the taste factor.” I handed him the chirashi roll and grabbed the salmon roe that he made.

“Ready to be blasted with your childhood?” I asked as I turned my body to face him, wanting to see his reaction up close.

“Absolutely not.” He answered, but took a bite anyways.

I took a bite just as he did, taking in all of the flavors only to find out… I didn’t like it.

“Mm.” I hummed while making an interesting face.

“You hate it.” He commented a subtle smirk growing because he was right.

“No!” I refused as I tried to swallow it, “It’s just interesting that’s all.”

Chishiya scoffed, “Whatever you say.”

It was a full minute before I broke, spitting the candy into a napkin, “I hate it.”

“I know.” He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“How did you ever eat this stuff? It tastes so…” I trailed off, not knowing the correct word.

“Artificial.” He answered for me.

I nodded as I took a drink of water before reaching over him to take one of his cookies.

“See you’ve gone for the better choice.” He pushed the bag closer to me.

“I won’t tell you that you are right.” I huffed, nudging him, “Your head would probably explode…” My fantasy suddenly came to an end as I realized where we were, “I… I’m sorry.”

He stared at me for a moment, noticing the quick change in my mood, “Why should you be?” He asked as he took another bite of the sushi I made.

A surprised look made it’s way onto my face, “You just took another bite!”

He shrugged, “You made it for me.” He said as he finished both candy sushi rolls.

“Oh…” I breathed out.

I felt myself swooning over his words and the way his stuffed cheeks made him look like a chipmunk.

The words came suddenly without any thought, “I love you.”

He raised his eyebrow at me as he waited for me to elaborate, chewing slowly.

My cheeks felt like they were on fire as I gaped at him, “I mean! I think I love stew- yeah stew! Warm stew with some bread, yum!” I was floundering now and it wasn’t until he gently grabbed my hand under the table that I finally stopped talking.

I waited patiently for him to say something… Anything. Just to know if my feelings were reciprocated or not, only for him to say something that made me smile and roll my eyes all the same.

“Took you long enough.” Chishiya stated, a knowing look in his eyes.

[ang3lc]

hi!!! I was wondering if I could get some headcanons from task force 141 (separately) about finding out their s/o’s ex boyfriend was abusive and how they would react, maybe their s/o would joke about the things he did but didn’t realize the severity, thanks so much :)

ahhh!!! my first ask, thank you! I'd love to write this for ya! hope you like it :p

summary -  TF141 finds out their s/o was in an abusive relationship…

⟡ wordcount - 1.8k-ish

⟡ warnings - gn!reader [usage of love, bonnie, babe, hun, but no actual fem prns], smidge of angst, fluff, making light of toxicity/abus!ve behavior, trauma responses, swearing, established!relationship, tf141xreader

SIMON RILEY

Simon knew your previous relationship had some…. Difficulties. When you first started dating, he could sense something darker about you. Something latent within you. He always had a sort of six-sense for these kinda things - a sense for people like him.

He didn’t want to pry- oh god no. If he accidentally triggered something within you and hurt you? He wouldn’t ever forgive himself. 

Eventually you had revealed how much of a prick your previous boyfriend was. You, however, failed to leave out the fact that the arsehole would leave you acutely aware of your surroundings at all times, sudden behavioral changes, and most notably, incredibly numb to all.

“Si?” You asked through his closed door, your knuckles gently rapping against the cool aluminum. With the rustle of sheets and some shuffling, Simon opened the door with a smile on his face at the sight of you. 

“ ‘ey hun… What’s happenin’?” Simon grumbled in his usual fashion. He was clad in his blue jeans and a grey sweatshirt that always dwarfed you. 

“Think you could help me out in the kitchen?” You said sheepishly… You had been trying to make a nice dinner, but heaven forbid someone puts key ingredients on an accessible shelf. He nods and follows you to the kitchen. Enveloped by the warmth of the room, as well as the delicious smell that emanated, he was also… astonished by the plethora of ingredients that were strewn across the counter.

“You cookin’ for an army?” He said gravelly, eyeing the counter, but not really paying too much mind. Who was he to complain when he was able to share a home cooked meal with his love? He circled the counter to stand next to you, noticing how you peered up at a rather high shelf. He wordlessly reached for the item you were peering at and placed it on the counter.

“Maybe,” you smiled cheekily, making your way back to the various pots and pans on the stove, Simon lingering behind you as he watched, leaning against the island, “I could cook like this all the time if you really want me to, I don’t mind.” Simply stated. 

“Had no idea you were much of a cook.” He replied, seriously considering your offer. The man was constantly thinking with his pitless stomach, and boy was the offer tempting. 

“Long as I don’t get popped for not havin’ the table set at 7, it’s fine with me.” You laughed, stirring the sauce you were making.

Crickets.

Simon maneuvered to stand directly behind you, his gentle hand feathering over your shoulder. 

“What..?” He replied quietly. Quieter than usual….. Definitely quieter than usual. 

You turned around, looking at him. Breathing a laugh, you looked at him casually, searching his eyes that slowly grew concerned.

“What?” You said right back to him. Your eyes searched his nervously, a familiar constriction in your throat. “...Did I do something wrong..?”

Now, Simon was never one to jump to conclusions, but why else would you have said that? Such a specific scenario and thing to say… He knew it almost immediately. He knew your last relationship was rocky, but… getting… hit? He nearly vomited at the thought. His mind raced with thoughts as he searched your eyes, not noticing that his own began to water. 

“Simon… Are you okay…?”

He stared incredulously. Why would you ask if he was okay? Rather than yourself? Are you okay?

“Love,” he inhaled, holding himself together, “...What’d that fuckin’ monster do to ya…?” 

He had taken the lives of a thousand men without a thought or protest in his mind. But now? He could feel his hands clam up. 

When your posture crumbled; when the look in your eyes shifted at his words, he knew. You didn’t have to say a thing. Your eyes matched his now, tears brimming in both like a dam littered with cracks. 

With a tremble of your lip and a shaky inhale, he engulfed you, pulling you into his chest before you could speak. 

“Not a thing in this world’ll hurt you again.”

JOHNNY MACTAVISH

It was no secret that Johnny had a difficult job. Probably one of the hardest, at that. He had tried so hard to keep you shielded from it, trying to keep “Soap” and Johnny separate, for your sake. 

2 months in the jungle, the man nearly became tarzan. He could barely keep in contact with you, constantly under a thick canopy in the hottest, most humid environment you could think of. 

It was nothing new for you. You knew he’d always come back home to you. The usual “coming home routine” for the two of you was as follows:

1) Johnny walks through the door, embodying death and exhaustion

2) You pamper him and shower him with affection

3) Life resumes as normal until he’s deployed

You had the routine down to a “T” after some time, so when the door opened with a soft click and you saw him in the front doorway, not a single one of Newton's laws stopped you from launching yourself at him. 

He genuinely had not seen you coming. An understatement to say you startled him. 

He was still in his work mindset, causing him to reflexively shove you off of him, causing you to land on the floor with a painful thud. 

He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t. The second he did it, he realized that no one else could have tackled him like that, except for you. 

“Bon…” He started, but he cut himself off after seeing the look on your face. You stared at him with a look he’s never seen. Sadness? Sure… But something else was there… Fear? Had he really shoved you that hard?

He moved toward you slowly, but he was beaten as you scampered and gathered yourself up faster than he could process. Before he could blink, the door to your shared room was slammed shut, with the click of a lock. 

He gathered himself, rubbing his face with his hands as he sighed at himself. A bloody fuckin’ idiot. He made his way to the door that shielded you behind it, pressing his ear to it as he gently knocked.

“Lovie… Ahm sorry… ya startled me…” He sighed defeatedly, his forehead leaning against the door. He could hear your sniffles and shuffles. 

“I just…I… I missed… ���m sorry… sorry” 

That wasn’t you. That wasn’t the person he fell in love with, and he knew it instantly. 

“Bonnie… ‘m so sorry… I didn’t mean to…” He said through the door, trying to be as soothing as possible. 

After about 20 minutes, the door cracked open, your eyes peeking through the small crack, seeing Johnny sat against the wall, his head lulled forward. He had fallen asleep. 

You opened the door fully and sat next to him on the wall, your head finding his shoulder. He woke up at the feeling, immediately turning to you.

“ ‘M sorry love… You can tackle me all ya want… I promise… I’ll never do that again… So sorry Bon…”

JOHN PRICE

The mission went wrong. Wrong in every possible way. Their intel had been completely wrong, causing the whole Task Force to be caught in an absolute gridlocked nightmare.

Instead of an easy in-and-out, the whole OP was doomed from the start, he knew it when the LZ was hotter than the surface of the sun. 

Despite that, the whole team managed to complete the objective. It wasn’t until you all were making your way to the exfil point suspiciously smoothly when something stirred in your stomach. Something was off. Taking out your sniper, you scanned the tree line ahead.

Your gut was right. The thermal scope picked up on about 20 snipers hiding in plain sight. The second you noticed them, you picked up a glare out of the corner of your eye. Without thinking, you turned and took out the sniper aiming at your captain. The bang alerted the enemies in the treeline. You jumped up and threw yourself over your Captain, your boyfriend.

Bullets wisped over your collapsed frames, the rest of the team had followed suit. But your action had ignited a gunfight, prolonging your exfil and risking all of your lives. 

“In my office. 10 minutes.” Price had whispered to you as you left the debriefing room. You knew it would happen, so you made your way over 10 minutes later, ready for him to either kick you off the team, or suspend you from it. You knocked on his door and entered after a grunt of acknowledgement. 

A cigar sat in his hands as the smoke billowed from his mouth. You sat down in front of his desk, trying to read the situation. He turned his head up to you.

“How is it that you’ve made it this far in the military, making stupid decisions like that?”

“I..” Speechless.

“Do you know what you could’ve cost us?”

“I do but-” You held your tongue. 

He stood up, his frustration clearly bubbling to the surface.

“You could have died because of a decision that you have no authority to make.”

“I was trying to-” He cut you off.

“What were you THINKING?!”

“I WAS TRYING TO MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T DIE!” You let it go.

“THAT’S NOT YOUR FUCKIN’ CHOICE.”

“STOP FUCKING SCREAMING!” You screamed back.

Within the span of the 20 second interaction, you had been reduced to tears, shaking like a leaf. 

Yes, this man was your captain, but he was also your boyfriend, and he had never raised his voice to you like that. To his other men? Sure. But to you? Never. 

You also hadn’t ever raised your voice to him like that, always softer spoken, yet your words were always meaningful and self-assured.

His eyes softened at your state, how you made yourself small, how the tears streamed down your face. You gently sat back in the seat parallel to his desk with your arms laced in front of yourself. 

He noticed how your thumbs drummed against your arms, how your eyes glued their focus to the floor, how your body would shake every few seconds - a violent tremor. 

He slowly circled the desk, and kneeled next to the chair. You had completely dissociated, and he truly didn’t know what to do. The only thing he knew was that he fucked up. He gently placed his hand over the vice grip you had on your own arm, you flinched.

God he could just die at the sight of you like this. You were inconsolable. He could only sit next to you, waiting for you to come back to reality. Waiting for you to come back to him. 

KYLE GARRICK

I simply cannot write gaz with any form of angst i am so sorry, but take these awesome pics from pinterest :p

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