#peach x joe

[skullsenpai]

Guess who remembered an old ship that they have!!!!

Expect more of this couple throughout this year as well as some of the other boxer’s and of course their son prince louis.

[skullsenpai]

My heart is literally going doki-doki when I your art of them. It’s too much for me and I’ll forever be thankful 💞💕😭😭

Part of an Art Trade I did with @skullsenpai​ . A JoePeach piece. Been a while since I’ve drawn the two but first time I drew the crossover pair. I was going to add a background based on where I got the pose from but gave up. 😭. Hope this is fine!

Also, very fitting that I finished and posting it now since I’m going to see the Mario movie today!

Keep reading

[perkqularkreashions]

Living with the Enemy, Joe Goldberg x Reader

Part 1: Last Nice Guy in New York??

Prompt: YN is close friends with Peach, Annika, Beck, and Lynn. She doesn't fit into their circle, nor does she try to. Joe soon sets his sights on YOU, leading to a domino effect within Y/N's life.

Requested: YES | Requested are OPEN|

Warnings: Mature Content, Manipulation, Stalking, Slightly Proofread.

It had been some time since you last spoke with Peach and her willing and obedient entourage. You blissfully ignored them, avoiding the usual hangouts and skipping daily walks with your son. You took different routes and dined at other eateries, and for a while, you enjoyed this simple and slow-paced lifestyle. 

It was a particularly warm day in New York; the increasing winds had died, allowing you to turn off the space heaters that litter your apartment. You relished the smell of cleaning products and baby formula rather than burning rubber. You watched as Rafi bounced around in his walker from his room back to the living room. His hand slapped against some trinket that sang a quick tune of “You are my sunshine.” It was probably his favorite plaything on that bouncer, but it annoyed the absolute hell out of you. The loud and high-pitched continuous loop of "you are my sunshine... my only sunshine", but he loved it, so you endure it. You cracked open the window, allowing the fresh air to filter into the apartment, the warm breeze washing over you briefly before returning to stillness. Contently, you sighed. Your eyes flickered to the door; a hesitant knock followed by two more confident knocks. You shuffled off the couch, unable to gaze through the peephole due to the grime built up over the years. You mentally noted that you need to tell the landlord about that. Unlocking your three deadbolts, you pressed your ear against the door, hearing the muffled female voices.

You opened the door and noticed Peach, Beck, Lynn, and Annika. Your eyes widened as you stumbled back, Peach charging into the apartment. Her eyes glanced around as she brightly smiled at Rafi before returning her cold gaze to you. She crosses her arms, waiting for you to fill the silence with an apology. The tension hung in the air like a heavy fog, palpable and suffocating everyone as they all watched you, their once easy rapport replaced by an uneasy silence. Every word left unsaid seemed to echo between them, filling the space with a sense of unease that was almost tangible. You chuckled before turning away, gathering some of Rafi’s items out of habit. “You don’t just go MIA for weeks like that!” Everyone slowly shifts into the apartment; you feel suffocated. “I called, you never answer.”

You plainly answered, “I know.” You shoved some clothes into the hamper before returning to the group. You tried to think of something to say and formulate something harsh and crude to say back to Peach and her brainless minions that followed her every call, jumping at the snap of her fingers and pleading for some sort of acceptance from her. You sighed, sitting on the sage-colored love seat, your elbows resting on your knees as you rubbed your temples gently. “Peach, you and your…whatever this is. Can happily get the fuck out of my apartment. You can’t just storm into my home and expect me to drop to my knees begging for you to what…forgive me?” 

You felt the couch dip next to you, the smell of her engulfing you. It iterated the fuck out of you yet offered you a warm feeling. She was home; despite her manipulation, gas-lighting, and bitch behavior, she was home. You finally looked at her, your face growing warm as you pressed your lips together. Her smile growing as she knew, she squealed, wrapping her arms around you. “Say you forgive us… me?” You nodded against her before pulling back. “Great, let’s go out to eat! We’ve missed you and have lots to catch you up on!”

You nodded, pressing a feigned smile on her lips; Annika smiled, wrapping you in a brief, one-armed hug. She was followed by Lyn, who seemed more than pleased that you had returned. They moved away, gawking at Rafi as they spoke with him in an annoying, high-pitched tone. They were flashing toys in front of him before snatching them quickly as he giggled loudly. You stood beside Beck; an awkward silence washed over you both. Beck wanted to speak… she wanted to ask if what Peach had been filling in her head was true. Suppose you had been trying to pine after Joe; how would she feel? She admitted her feelings for Joe were growing; she liked having him around and the attention he provided her when Benji was off on a binge of whatever drug would provide him with whatever relief. “We missed you… I missed you,” Beck spoke, cutting through the silence. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, bumping into her shoulder and offering her a half smile. She tucked a small piece of hair behind her ear.  

“I’ve been dying to tell you about everything, I mean everything,” Beck whispers through her laugh as she watches you for a moment. Beck confided you about everything; you weren’t judgmental and never gave advice—you were just a lending ear that she craved in the whirlpool that was Peach. You sighed, knowing that no matter where you were in your life and how far you thought you had escaped Peach, she was always lurking in the shadows, ready to devour you at any minute.

You hummed softly, your hand occasionally, moving the visor back to check to see if your son was still alive. Your hand fluttered in front of his face; quickly, he reached for your fingers. You had spent most of the morning shopping for groceries and wanting to find some fresh produce. You gathered green apples, strawberries, and some blueberries. It has been a slow-paced morning; class was canceled, you were finally caught up on your assignments, and only needed to grade some papers from some of your classes. You hadn’t seen Peach since your lunch date with the girls two weeks ago. It was spent, for the most part, talking about Beck’s choices in men and the plethora of men that have taken her to bed… all this steaming from Benji ghosting her. You didn’t know what she saw in him, but he was a poser and couldn’t hold down an idea, let alone his own business. She had fucked, Mr. Bedroom Eyes, someone that she had met in the library, all while leading on Joe and worrying about Benji.

Your eyes shifted slightly; noticing him underneath the navy-blue baseball cap, he examined the fruit before placing it down. You smiled brightly, peering left and right before approaching him. You stuttered for a moment; wait is it weird that you were approaching him? Did you even need to say hello? You stood behind him, mindlessly watching his gaze at the fruit. Weaving through the throngs of people as your eyes held steady on him, your hands tightening against the stroller. Panic surged through you, threatening to overwhelm my senses as your hands hesitantly reach out to his shoulder. Joe jumped as he spun around; a toothy grin fell on his lips as his eyes shifted to Rafi. “Sorry, this must be weird.” You quickly tried to explain, and yet there you stood. 

“No!” Joe smiled, “No weird at all.” He watched you, taking in your beauty from the curve of your lips to the furrow of your brows. Your eyes are a soft color, filled with so much emotion. He contained his excitement, continuing to handle the slightly ripe peach in his hand. A soft breath of relief escaped your lips; Joe watched you, taking in every moment, from the twitch of your eye when you smiled to the slight tightening of your hands against the stroller’s handle. Were you nervous? You didn’t need to be! I am all yours! Joe’s thoughts muddled aggressively through his head, his eyes concentrating more on your slight movements, the way you shifted your weight to your left hip as you stood there, watching him. Your index finger nervously taps before stopping.

“Good, I thought it’d be weird if I recognized you in this crowded space,” you laughed; it was soft. A small smile crept on his face as he moved closer to you, a single step to be closer to you. You slightly shifted, leaning against the stroller as you pushed it in front of you before bringing it back. “It’s nice to see you again.” Your heart fluttered as you watched his goofy take hold of his lips. His cheeks dusted pink as he nodded hesitantly; he stepped forward, watching you walk away in the crowd, occasionally wiggling your fingers in front of your son’s view. 

“Are you alone?” Joe mentally cringed as you paused, peering over your shoulder in confusion, “I meant, I could keep you company while you go shopping… If you don’t mind.” Do you mind? You wouldn’t mind, would you? Joe thought; he watched you ponder his offer, and you fully faced him as you smiled, nodding at him. Joe joined you, shoulders bumping into each other as you continued to walk through the farmer’s market. Looking at the different herbs and vegetation sprawled on the tables, you fingered at them, rubbing your fingers with a concentrated look on your face as Joe pushed Rafi. Joe watched you in awe, his hand gripping against the stroller in angst and yearning. He watched you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear; you quickly turned to him, putting a strong-smelling herb in his face. He winced as he swatted at his nose; you laughed softly before agreeing with the saleswoman that the left one was more pungent. 

“My mom made this weird-tasting soup for me when I was sick, but it always helped. It helps when Rafi has a little bug. He hates it; he scratches at my arms when I force-feed it to him.” You laughed, showing him the small craters in her skin that hadn’t healed properly. Joe took your arm, letting his thumb trace over the craters. “He’s so mean when he wants to be; I guess he gets that from his dad.” Joe watched you, taking in every word that was said. 

“His dad hit you?” You were stunned; you placed the herbs in your tote bag before looking at Rafi, making a slight face and tickling him. Joe observed you, your face tense as you seemingly tried to feign enjoyment in the brief time with your son. He watched how you weren’t standing so close to him; your shoulders still touched every again, but not the same as before. Joe cursed at himself for bringing it up; Joe hated that he made you feel so small and helpless again. You froze at the sound of your name; Joe noticed it, too. He peered over his shoulder seeing someone rush to you, his hand waving wildly as he began to jog to catch up to you. He called your name again. Joe’s eyes flickered at you, and you were frozen, eyes wide in fear. Joe leaned closer to you, but you were snapped out of thoughts when the man stood directly behind you. You slowly turned, now facing the stranger. Joe watched the man; something about was familiar, the curve of his lip and the bushiness of his brow. His hair was long and pulled into a rendition of a man-bun with some pieces falling in front of his face; he was clean-shaven and muscular. His skin was a deep cooper color that glistened but wasn’t sweat…more of an oil-based lotion. 

“It’s been so long!” he smiled with a bright smile, teeth perfect and in a row, no obscurities or imperfection. He tried reaching out for a hug, but you backed away, letting a small smile rest on your lips. You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to for Joe to notice how uncomfortable you were. “Who’s this?” His eyes never left yours. Joe could see the intimidation in his eyes, and his smile never reached his eyes when he spoke. 

Joe moved the stroller before him, stretching his hand in the process; a bright smile rested on his lips. “Joe.” The man didn’t acknowledge him or care for his name. Finally, he passed him a glance, his face churning into a distasteful look. His eyes moved to the stroller, and as a bright smile crossed his lips, he bent down for a moment. Wiggling at Rafi’s shoes, speaking in a babbled baby talk before looking up to you again. 

“You know he misses you and him; you shouldn’t run away. Especially with his child.” The man spoke, and he stood to his feet. “See around.” He spoke before brushing past you. Joe grabbed your arm, and you winced momentarily, flinching away from him. Your eyes finally connected with Joe’s; you sucked in a deep breath before grabbing unto the stroller. A sense of comfort washed over you. 

“Thanks for today… for this. I appreciate it,” you hummed. Joe nodded, watching you walk away; his eyes focused on the man who had ruined your perfect day together. It started innocently enough, stumbling into an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. Plunging into the maze of crowds, Joe found himself, trailing the stranger, drawn by the same curiosity that everyone in the market has. Joe shadowed his movements, picking up a weathered journal or a fruit that was slightly ripe. His eyes cut to the man every chance he had gotten. As Joe meanders through the maze of makeshift booths and colorful displays, the man he’s following remains blissfully unaware of his presence. They weave through the crowd, partaking in a dance that only Joe is aware of. 

“Dom! Dom! Dom Batista! As I live and breathe in the flesh it is you!” Joe groaned at the dramatic nature of New Yorkians, every word that stumbles out of their mouth an illicit affair with Shakespeare and a Soap Opera. “It has been so long since we’ve last seen each other!”

Joe followed behind you, face low as he watched you hurriedly move through the streets, passing men and women alike. 

Batista….Batista….Batista is the name of a Judge in New York City; their mother was an actress who starred in plenty of movies before her fall from grace and getting addicted to cocaine. They had three children, three boys: Jonathan, the oldest—who was a criminal defense attorney. He was married with two sons. He didn’t post on social media, but his wife, Mary Glassgo, came from an Affluent family in Virginia who had established wealth through “other means.” during the late 1700s, did, in fact, post and posted often. She was overly descriptive and pictured all the locations where they dined, shopped, and vacationed. She was on a trip with her two sons, enjoying the mountains in Vermont.  The caption was, “Can’t get away from life all the time, but when I do, it’s always with my two favorite boys.” Joe followed you across the street, scrolling through her Instagram until he came across a photo from Thanksgiving; he dragged his thumb across the screen, revealing a picture of her and another man who looked similar to Jonathan, tagged was St_Do_Batista. Dominick, the middle— Joe, recgonized him as the man he saw today; he frequently posted almost every day at the gym. He was a professional boxer; his face wasn’t riddled with too many lacerations and scars, which indicated that he was good at his craft. He had a girlfriend, one of many girlfriends. They all came and gone, as soon as a new one would be posted with a bright smile, not knowing her fate. Petite blondes, curvy brunettes, tall red-heads, even some bald girls with tattoos riddling every surface of their bodies.  

“Hello….” Joe thought; he scrutinized the photo, and you were smiling, your cheek pressed against him as you embraced him. He just won a fight; he hugged you tight. Joe scrolled to the following image… it was a video; he played it. You giggled as he spun, cheering as one hand held you tight against him. You spoke gently, words that the camera didn’t pick up, nor did anyone else. He continued to scroll as he noticed that most photos were of you cooking in his house, at the park with him, on his couch with the laptop tucked on your thighs as you carefully examined whatever was on the screen. You took up a majority of his life and then nothing. Joe saw a picture of him and another look similar to the Batista family; he clicked on the tagged name. RafiBat didn’t post much, but when he did, he generated a lot of attention from women. He was a boxer, too, and he and his brother were often referred to as the Basista Brothers. He didn’t post you often, once or twice; that was in photos with Dominick. But it was evident that you both were friends. He was attending a university known for its Marine Biology program. He had been traveling overseas, where he had been for the last few months, pictures of him with sharks, fish, turtles, and some other classmates. There was a picture of you, smiling brightly in his bed with her belly exposed; it was small, possibly in the early months of your pregnancy. His caption read “My Everything.”

Joe’s attention was averted to the left as he noticed someone briskly walking, eyes concentrated on you. His hand dug into his pocket as he pulled out his phone, dialing quickly. He spoke before hanging up. Did you not notice? Did you feel someone following you? Joe broke off in a sprint, laughing softly before calling out your name; you peered over your shoulder in confusion, hesitating as you squinted your eyes at him. 

Joe’s body collided against yours, taking your hand as he smiled gently. “Why’d you run off like that? I was looking for you everywhere!” he calls out exaggeratedly loud, his hand falling at his side; he watched your wide eyes swiftly snap to him while he continued to guide you forward, Joe’s hand pressed on your lower back. “Someone has been following you,” he whispered through a gritted smile. Her body stiffened as his words echoed through the stillness in the air; you were tempted to look, her head inching to the left slightly. “No, don’t look… Just keep walking baby.” You hummed in understanding. Joe peered over his shoulder, watching the man avoiding the dim street lights, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his body focused ahead of him, but he could see the whites of his eyes and the darkness of his orbs staring deep into your side. Then Joe remembered the small encounter you had at Peach’s party, the drunken party-goer grabbing you, retelling his woes of missing their friend group and a man who seemed to miss you just as much. Your body reacted negatively, your eyes watering, and your skin paled as you stumbled away from him.  Joe watched your hands dance against your face, trying to wipe the anxiety that was trailing through your body. Joe wanted to lead you home, protecting you from the evils lurking in the shadows you weren’t aware of. Joe allowed you to lead you both to your apartment complex. Joe swiftly grabbed Rafael, allowing you to close the stroller. You put in the code 76477; Joe held open the door as you shuffled in your hands, digging through your satchel in search of your keys. He noticed three locks; just as if you practiced this a hundred times, you easily unlocked the door. 

Joe smelled deeply, taking in the scent of baby powder and your aroma. Rafael rested against his neck, his chest breathing gently as he slept. His tiny breaths could be heard as they smacked against his pacifier. Joe scanned your apartment again; it was vastly bigger than Beck’s and his. His eyes fell on an opening; it wasn’t too big but just big enough to have a window, an oak-colored crib decorated with white and green. “You can just set him down in there…He won’t last too long in the crib,” He heard your voice as you locked the front door. You were latching on the deadbolts and other self-brought knick-knacks. Joe set Rafi down, brushing his hair out his face; he squirmed slightly in a panic. Joe quickly turned on the mobile, slightly out of reach for Rafi. He pressed a button; the mobile began to hum to live, and soon, water sounds came on. Splashing, sounds of whales and dolphins, and what seems like rain hitting the waters. It was soothing, and Rafi’s face soon mellowed. Joe allowed Rafi to hold unto his finger; his grip was tight as his body sprawled on the crib’s mattress.

“He usually isn’t so peaceful to put down. He must like you.” He heard you whisper; Joe peered over his shoulder, watching your head pressed against the door’s frame. Joe removed his finger, returning his attention to you. You walked out of the room as Joe followed you. The silence washed over you as you paced around the room, trying to find the right words. Joe stood there, waiting, allowing you to take as much time as needed. 

“Joe?” You finally whispered, your eyes finally landing on him. In that moment, Joe felt your souls tying together, latching and burning into each other. “Thank you.” you pushed out, tucking your bottom lip into your teeth. 

“I noticed him following you after the market…I didn’t know what to do but when I saw him trying to cross the street… Who is he?” 

“Dominick, my ex’s brother. Rafi’s father.” Joe nodded; you trusted him, you trusted him. You weren’t a liar like Beck, “Dom and I were close; I even thought we would be together, but then he got a girlfriend. He stopped coming around, that’s when I met Rafael, he was gentle at first…but I guess that was the point. I had a fling with him and then with his brother, shit just got messy fast, and I got pregnant. That’s when he got abusive… I tried pressing charges, but his dad always dropped the cases, saying that I was a daughter of a junky prostitute and a “john.” I asked for a different judge and each time I was denied. I was finally….finally allowed to get a restraining against him, but it expired, and I wasn’t allowed to renew due to no current impending dangers.” Joe watched you; he stepped close to you, grabbing your arms. You sighed, looking up at him. 

“If you need anything, anything… I am here for you.” Joe whispers; you nod, folding your arms underneath each other.

Please ask me to say; please beg me to stay. Joe thought; he nodded as he moved away from the couch. “Joe, wait!” You stood up, “You don’t mind staying for the night, do you? I would feel comfortable with a man around the house… just for the night.” Your voice is soft, and Joe could tell you needed him. He couldn’t deny you. He peered over his shoulder and smiled. 

The night progressed as you lay in the bed, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Your eyes squeezing shut, trying to feign being asleep in hopes of tricking your mind into slumber.

“Joe, are you sleeping?” You called out into the darkness, “Joe?” You called out once more, panicked; you sat up quickly squinting through the darkness as you watched his chest slowly fall and rise. You sighed for a moment, shifting comfortably in the bed.

“Yes?” 

Joe rises from the couch, groaning as he shuffles to you. He crawls into bed, and you open the covers, allowing him to slide in. His eyes were low from being awoken from his sleep, his hands tight as he observed you move closer to him. You craved his warmth; a sense of comfort and protection seeped through to you. Your eyes focused on Joe’s, watching through the stillness of the night and the slight light that the moon gave you. His hand gently reached out, tucking your hair behind your ear, holding onto the strand until he reached the end. He moved closer, pressing a kiss on your forehead. He held it, trying to compose himself. He didn’t want to push himself onto you; he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He wasn’t going to be like your ex or your father. Joe pulled back, your eyes fluttering open hesitantly, and you moved closer to him. Your lips molded together, smacking in the silence as your slight hums vibrated into his mouth. He pulled away; you were vulnerable and seeking out comfort in him. He needed to wait to see if this feeling rang true. He wanted you more than you could know, more than he thought possible. He couldn’t take advantage of you like this, not right now… not ever. He cuffed your cheek, kissing your forehead before you, wishing you a good night.

Burning something evoked a wide range of emotions in Joe, a symbol of something new shifting in the atmosphere. The flicker of a match igniting, the scent of smoke swirling in the air, and the crackle of flames consuming the body— the overwhelming sensory experiences that engage him in the death of Benji. He stood over the growing flames, watching them dance against his body; Joe thought he would feel at ease. He couldn’t–his mind racing back to you and Rafi. Joe grew angry, feeling compelled to kill Benji; he was powerless against the woe of Beck, her smile and innocence being stripped away. It's as if his autonomy is being stripped away, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed. The heightened feelings of frustration and resentment began to grow through this loss of control. 

He thought of you as he smelled the charred remains of Benji, your face dancing in the flames. He sighed, pushing his forearm against his brow. He quickly dialed you; he needed to hear your voice. 

“Joey?” Joe heard you whisper, soothing all anxieties that rushed through him. His hand gripping the steering wheel. “Joey? Everything alright?” He hummed, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. It has been one month since he had forced his way into your apartment, leaving articles of clothing behind and coming up with any excuse to stay the night, not that you minded. He had a key to your apartment now, coming in the mornings and getting Rafi together for daycare as you prep for classes and graded papers. Your glasses hung off the bridge of your nose while you gnawed on the cap of the pen—your eyes shifting from the monitor to the paper as you scribbled some markings on it before moving on to the next. The way his lips danced against yours, his hands gently caressed your skin as your lips tangled.

“Yes, everything is alright.” He heard you shuffling, the covers shifting off your body. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, Joey, no, you didn’t. What’s wrong?” You could always read him; you would always tell. You didn’t even have to look at him to see that something was picking at him. He knew that you were good for him; you were everything that he needed you to be. Joe remained silent; the only that was heard was Rafi’s babbling. “Just come over and well talk, okay.”

“Okay.” Joe hung up and made his way to you, his head spinning from his recent murder. His fingers trembled as he pulled down your street, finding a parking spot adjacent to your apartment building. He moved out of the car. His key jingled in the locks swiftly; you swung open the door, watching in bewilderment. Worry drawn on your eyebrows and lips. “Joey, what is going on? Was it—”

“No…no, just Beck.” You nodded for a moment, allowing him to enter the apartment; slamming the door, you proceeded to deadbolt the locks. You stared at the final lock, trying to compose yourself; he wasn’t yours. You were just friends. Why did it hurt at the mention of her name at the thought of him being at her apartment, embracing her? “She just makes me insane, always having to watch her and look out for her. All the lies and the—” You picked up the clothes that scattered the floor, tossing them in Rafi’s dirty clothes hamper. Mindlessly, you grabbed the toys, tossing them in a bin as they interrupted his sentence. 

“I see.” was all you could mumble out, your eyes flickering to him. He continued to ramble about how he didn’t trust her–how she was always so secretive around him. But that was Beck; the doe-like look in her eyes always masked the truth that crawled beneath the surface. She was manipulative; everything she did was calculated and meticulous. Her bold red lip contrasted against her pale skin, and her dress revealed just enough of her thigh to keep her professor yearning for more. The way she teased and poked at man’s most animalistic and primitive yearning, dangling it in front of their face before yanking it. You turned to face him, letting the hamper fall against the floor. 

“I frankly don’t want to hear about Beck. I understand she’s your girlfriend or whatever she is but, I can’t take hearing about her. When you’re sitting in my apartment, helping me take care of my son… playing house with me. I don’t want to hear about Beck. I get enough of her when I am with them. Every issue that plagues her, I hear about, all the damn time. Benji, you, the Captian. I can’t–I just can’t do it.” You turn away, heated you move into the bathroom face burning with embarrassment and angry. Angrily you slapped at the knob, turning on the hot water on. It screeched for a moment before the hot water spit out.

As you step into the shower, the hot water cascades over your skin, offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil. Droplets dance across your body, carrying away the remnants of anger and frustration that cling to you like a heavy cloak. With each passing second, the tension melts away, replaced by a soothing sensation of renewal. You close your eyes, allowing the water to envelop you completely, washing away the Beck and Joe's monologue that echoed in your mind. Steam fills the air, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you stand beneath the gentle stream, letting it cleanse your body and soul. Slowly, the weight of the conversation begins to lift, replaced by a sense of clarity and calm. In this sanctuary of steam and solitude, you find solace. You sighed as the shower opened; you saw his feet planted in the shower and the sound of a soft sigh resting in the air. You feel his hands gliding against your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips pecked your shoulder, sucking in the aroma that cascaded around him. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”  His hand gently drummed your abdomen, his cock hardening against you as he pecked at you, his hands moving to your breast, kneading at them slowly, letting his fingers squeeze and tug at your nipples. 

“Please, forgive me” he whispered; you couldn’t say no to him. So, you nodded, turning around fully to face him. Pressing a gently kiss against his lip, stepping out of the shower, grabbing the towel as you instantly moved to Rafi’s crib. 

As the tears streamed down his Rafi’s flushed cheeks, Joe’s heart ached with empathy. With gentle hands, he lifted the sobbing child into his arms, cradling him against his chest, his hand rubbing circles against his back something that he noticed his mom and he liked. Leaning close, he murmured soothing words in a soft, reassuring tone, his voice a balm to the boy's distressed soul. With each gentle stroke of his hand and whispered promise, Joe felt the tension begin to melt away from his Rafi’s trembling form. He rocked him back and forth, a steady rhythm that mirrored the beating of his own heart, a silent vow to always be there to chase away the shadows and dry the tears. Joe moved back your bed, and you reached out your arms, allowing Rafi to settle into your chest and Joe to cuddle back into your side. Rafi was a crybaby and wanted you to hold him 25/8; you wanted to break him out of that habit. Joe and you had been working on getting him to sleep through the night in his crib, it would only last two nights out of the week before Joe caved and dragged himself to Rafi’s crib, engulfing him in his arms. You didn’t bother to correct him; you could tell that something was off with him. You two didn’t speak much after your moment the shower; you didn’t try to get him to speak either.

A heavy knock on the door had woken Joe; he hissed in frustration, moving the walker out of the way as he stumped his toe against it. He looked back, seeing Rafi whining for him, his arm stretched as he crawled closer to the edge of the bed. Joe scooped him up, snatching your phone and checking the time—7:37 AM. He grunted as he moved to unlock the deadbolts and finally the door. The door swung open, revealing Peach. Her eyes widened as she glanced at Joe; quickly, she shook her head, trying to find the right words to say but couldn’t. Peach observed him, eyes squinted in fury and confusion. “She’s sleeping Peach.”

She called out your name, moving into the living room, her eyes falling on you as you lay in bed. Her head snapped to Joe, realizing that he was in his boxers. “What the fuck! What did you do to her?” Peach asked as she tried to grab Rafi. Joe stiffed her and backed away as she continued to reach for your son. 

Joe held Rafi tightly in his arms as Peach had her outstretched arms and a determined frown on her face. Ignoring Joe’s protective grip, Peach reached for the child, her fingers brushing against Joe’s before clasping around the little one's hand. Joe’s heart skipped a beat, a surge of protectiveness welling up within him. He pulled back, his hand resting against Rafi’s back as he watched Peach’s face morph, her eyes narrowing before he turned her attention to you. 

“Peach? What–What are you doing?” You shifted from the covers, you were in a grey crewneck, a B printed in brown and outlined in red. Your hair messing tied away from your face as you squinted to fully focus on her. 

“No! No—what are you doing?” She hisses, stomping towards you, your finger jabbing into the air as she throws her hands dramatically. 

“Peach, he was just—I saw Dominick. Since then, he has been here for me. Nothing… Nothing else has been going on.” You shouted over her rambles. Something in her face changed; she slammed her mouth shut, looking at you, taking in your words. She grabbed the back of her arm, holding it tighter to her person. Joe noticed the slight change in her demeanor at the mention of Dominick; he scared her. 

“Did you–” You quickly shook her hand, stretching out your hands for Rafi; Joe quickly moved to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as Rafi crawled into your lap. Joe’s hands rested on top of yours; he pressed his lips against Rafi’s head before cuffing your chin. He rose to his feet. He grabbed his things, placing them on his clothes. He jiggled his phone before leaving out of your apartment, a silent single for you to call him when she leaves. “When did that happen?”

“Nothing happened. He just was here for me at the time and… I trust him.” Peach laughs, sitting on the bed. 

“Trust him, absolutely not. You know he’s playing you just like he’s playing Beck!” You rolled your eyes, unsure of what to make of her accusations. I mean, they weren’t incorrect in their entirety. Joe had a fleeting romance with Beck and probably still does. “He’s using you. I lost Beck to him, and I am not going to lose you. In this stupid ideology where you think you need him! You don’t need him! I am here for you; call me if you are feeling scared; call me if you are feeling down!” 

“I know” you mumbled, caressing Rafi. “I shouldn’t trust him” you confessed. “I really shouldn’t” a bitter laugh left your throat as you chocked on a sob that rose in your throat. 

“He could be like Rafael! You are so blinded by love that you didn’t see it then, but I did, and now, I do.” Peach whispered, as she inched in Joe’s spot. Resting her head against your chest, her hands wrapping against your torso. 

 Joe stood outside the closed door, his fists clenched at his sides, he strained to hear the muffled voices from within. Anger simmered beneath his skin, fueled by the snippets of conversation that reached his ears. Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the thin veneer of his composure. He could hear her strained voice, a mixture with a Peach’s voice—a voice that grated on his nerves like sandpaper. His jaw tightened, muscles coiling with tension as he fought the urge to burst through the door and confront the source of his jealousy head-on. The temptation to intervene, to demand answers, pulsed through him like a steady drumbeat, drowning out reason and restraint. With every passing moment, his anger mounted, a raging inferno threatening to consume him whole. Yet, for now, he remained on the other side of the door, a silent witness to his own unraveling emotions. Something needed to happen, Peach was always in the way, the intricate dance of relationships that she always blocked. Stepping on his toes and stealing you away from him. Tangling you in her grasp, the same spell that Beck was under.  She was a figure looming in the background, casting a shadow over any potential romance that Joe worked so hard to grow and nourish. Her presence was like a shield, deflecting any attempts at romantic advancement with a casual remark or a well-timed interruption. 

He needed to kill her; her undoing was all the fault of her own. 

Goodbye Peach Sallinger. 

[madwomansapologist]

peach salinger —

peach salinger being obsessed with you would include BEST FRIENDS FOREVER! ☆ when you met peach salinger at brown, somehow you just got the feeling that she would be important for you. when peach first saw you wandering the college halls in search of your class, she knew you were the one. and no one, not even you, would ever change that.

smile for the camera ☆ peach has been sick for so long, it makes sense that now she wants to have fun. what was supposed to be just a drink or two turned into an endless night - albeit a forgettable one for your drunken brain. but peach has more than enough photos to prove that what happened is not imagination.

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: You

Sample Size: 254 stories

Source: AO3

[ravawrites]

guys i’ve been watching you. (the show) is there a fandom for you????

[smashpages]

Preview pages by Peach Momoko for Ultimate X-Men #1 (Marvel, March 2024)

[skullsenpai]

Despite the large age gap peach is the dominant one in the relationship, but Joe is definitely the more romantic of the two overall. Don’t let peach drive an actual car coz all of her driving experience does come from racing against her friends in Mario kart.

[lunajay33]

Finding You🩵

Summary: The group has been split up since the prison feel and you’ve been all alone with Judith until you come across a terrible group of men

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: This story might have some uncomfortable parts for some readers, nothing fully happens just some harassment

•Masterlist•

Things were going good, we had our crops and the community was coming together with the people who came from Woodbury but then….the sickness spread through the prison taking out a lot of people thankfully Daryl was smart to keep me away from anyone with signs and then to top it of the governor came back, he came back and killed Hershel right in front of us which broke out into a full battle field

I lost track of where Daryl was, I ran out of the prison with a quick to go bag finding Judith still in her bed, taking some more food for her and I ran out through the opening in the back of the prison

That’s how I got here, wandering the woods hoping just praying to come across anyone from the prison, Maggie Beth Rick anyone, if I ever found Daryl again I’d be the luckiest person on earth but it’s been what feels like two weeks, along the way I found a house got a blanket and tied it around myself making a makeshift baby holder for Judith so she wasn’t as difficult to carry

I was sat on these train tracks feeding Judith a can of peaches when suddenly I was surrounded by a group of dirty men, I held her close to my body scared of what might happen but I’ll be damned if I won’t fight tooth and nail to protect her

“Well well well, look what we got here, sweet lil thing like ya, might have some fun” this one guy with longer dark hair said as he ran his hand across my cheek but I flinched away

“Don’t touch me” I said trying to find away out of this circle

“You’re with us now darlin ya ain’t going anywhere” the older man said and now I was at the back of the group walking along the tracks just waiting to find a moment to escape

We eventually ventured off the tracks onto a road where we saw a man sitting in the middle of the road and my heart skipped a beat, I ran up ahead of the group careful not to upset Judith

The closer I got the clearer that winged vest became, the one person I needed to find the most and here he was

“Daryl” I said kneeling in front of him, he looked dirty and exhausted and……..broken

But when he looked at me I saw that hope in his eyes like when we first found the prison

“Are ya real?” He asked squeezing my arm

“I’m here D, I’m real”

He pulled me into a tight hug until Judith gave out a little whine

“Ya got lil asskicker?”

“Yeah, I lost track of you during the fight I saw Judith and I had to get out…..I’m sorry”

“Ya got out that’s what matters and ya found me”

“There’s something else I need to tell you”

I was cut off before I got to finish

“He yours? Ya claiming him?” Joe asked as the surrounded us

“Yes he’s mine” I looked back at Daryl and he looked defense and for good reason these people were dangerous

“Okay we’ll stop here for the night” Joe said as people started picking cars to sleep in

“Guess we can take the floor” I said sitting down farther from the others as Daryl tried to make himself comfortable laying on his garbage bag

I looked down at him my heart swelled with so much love and appreciation that I was able to find him again

“What’re ya lookin at” he asked with a slight smile

“I really thought I’d never see you again, thought I’d be alone out here just me and Judith forever and this ba…….but then I saw you again” I still haven’t gotten to tell him the news I found out that I was meant to tell him the day the governor destroyed our home

“What were ya meaning to tell me earlier” he asked as he leaned up on his arm

I sighed looking down at little Judith fast asleep in my arms

“I meant to tell you but then you know……..the governor came………I’m pregnant” he was silent for a long time he just looked down to my stomach where a little bulge was showing, it was early so it was only noticeable if you knew about it

“How’d this happen” he asked his eyebrows furrowing

“Are you mad?” I asked feeling my heart pump harder, I know this isn’t ideal but it’s done now and there’s nothing I can do

“Nah just……scared, for you, I can’t lose ya like Lori”

“Lori had a c-section with Carl, that’s why she died, I’m sure I’ll be fine D”

He motioned for me to lay on his chest, holding me close

“I love ya” he whispered

“I love you too Daryl”

Should I do a part 2?

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Call Me Back

Pairing: Ex!Joe Burrow x Black!Actress Reader

Description: This wasn't how your life was supposed to go, but you're glad you have friends that will always be there for you.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Horrible Communication, Toxic Relationships, Cheating, No Happy Endings Today :(

Word Count: 2.4k

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆

“God, I’m so hungry.” You say as soon as the appetizers arrive at the table.

Everything looked so good. “I could down all 6 of those plates right now.” After loading a variety of flavors onto your plate, you take the first bite of actual heaven. 

Your friends sit there in total shock, the calls of your name falling on deaf ears. By the time you look up, half of the plate is gone. “Um, when was the last time you ate?” Ariel asks, the girl with red dyed locs only had a single meatball on her plate.

You look around the table and slowly shift in your seat when only one of the five plates had been loaded.

You gulped. “Oh I skipped lunch at work, we were really busy.” 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

6 Hours Earlier

The scene had wrapped early, but lunch was scheduled at 1. As you sat in your trailer, the next 30 minutes felt like hours. You were starving, because of how long a chaotic filming of a movie is. All you had today was a protein shake. Sipping on it throughout was fine but you needed food. 

The second the clock struck one, you yanked open the door hoping to see your P.A on the other side and by the grace of god, she was.

“One Moe's Homewrecker Bowl with extra salsa, queso, and siracha. A large chocolate peanut butter cup milkshake from Steak & Shake and lastly homemade banana pudding straight from the Peach Cobbler Factory.” Deyzia handed you the bowl first and set the rest on the counter.

“D I fucking love you so much.” You moan taking a bite of your food. “I also love filming in Atlanta.”

The young girl giggled, grabbing water from the mini fridge and setting that beside you too. “You’re welcome, boss. Gotta keep the woman that pays me happy.”

You simply nodded, not caring about her words. The food was all that mattered at this moment. 

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Thinking back to earlier that day, you push the play forward a bit and fake a groan. “Skipping lunch was a bad idea, but I need to make room for my pasta.”

The faux brunette beside you took that as an opportunity to clean your plate. “I felt that, but I’m not letting these mozzarella sticks go to waste.”

You had to fight the pout that wanted to set on your face as your stomach started to growl. “Go on right ahead Sash, I shouldn’t be eating such greasy food anyway.”

“Oh yeah, she’s a big movie star now guys.” Diane chuckles. “Before you know it, The Cheesecake Factory will be too good for her.”

Your laugh comes out halfheartedly. “Please if it ever does, I’ll start paying for everyone’s dinner.”

You can tell the dark skin beauty liked that even if her job in real estate had a more stable future than yours.

Everyone seemed to move on from your appetite afterward, now paying more attention to Sasha's newest romantic encounters- as a newly out fem she was immensely enjoying the fun queer scene. 

But even with most eyes on her, you couldn’t help but feel another set studying your presence You quietly excuse yourself from the table and speed walk to the women’s restroom, the clacking of another pair of heels steps behind you causing sweat to build on your brow.

Looking in the mirror, you powder all the sweaty and oily spots on your face. Then reapply your favorite lip tint before your longtime friend speaks up. 

“This morning all you could talk about was that cobbler place opening back up. I heard you place the same lunch order with the addition of the banana pudding you said was ‘so incredible, to die for, astronomically delicious.’ Then you came home and downed a large fruit salad. But you’re starving- no actually you're too full, but your stomach is definitely saying the latter.” You lock eyes in the mirror, but for the first time in 8 years, you can’t read the expression on her face. 

“Yazmine.”

Her strong bronze arms cross over her chest, some of her blonde braids getting caught in the process. “You think I don’t know what’s going on?” 

“Yaz…” 

“No, we’ve been best friends since drama school and this is how you tell me?!” Her eyes are so scolding you shift your focus to putting your makeup away.

“Eliza!” The harsh tone of her voice makes you jump but paired with the role you’ve wanted since you knew what theater was it brought chills to your skin. The day you met, you both chose to audition with a Hamilton song so the director made you sit for each other’s ‘performances,’ in the end she became the Angelica to your Eliza.

“Yaz, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your hands shake as you close your purse and turn to leave. But her now soft mousy voice stops you. "Just wait."

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” 

Because you hadn’t admitted to yourself.

Turning you lay your head against the granite wall and show her the small pools in your eyes. “I.. I didn’t notice it at first, after most shoots I slept for hours. I didn’t want to eat but that was sort of normal. Then the um- cravings started, I was just glad my appetite was back. But I started getting sick, and that’s when I really noticed the changes. I kept telling myself they’d go away, that it’s not really happening. I still haven’t said it out loud, but it’s been two months. I wrap in a few days, the movie’s been a great distraction, but I-I don’t know what to do. The doctor said everything’s fine, but I don’t feel like myself anymore. I-I don’t-

She takes two large steps and engulfs you in her arms. “Hey, hey I’m here. I’m here Liza. You’re gonna be fine, I’m gonna help you through this. Don’t worry about it, you’re not alone babe. You have me, Dia, Sasha, Ariel, shit even Deyzia, we’ll always be here for you.”

You sob even harder. “I-I hav-haven’t-

“Shhhh, take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” She just rocks you in her arms, the safe and secureness she oozes is more than enough to calm a bear. 

You slowly pick up your head and wipe away the remaining tears. “I haven’t told him. I found out after we broke up, he blocked me on everything and I changed my number. I don’t know if I can go through this with him, after everything we’ve been through. I can’t Yaz, I can’t tell him.”

She kisses your head and whispers against your heated skin. “I’ll tell him and I’ll whoop his ass in the process.”

You snort against her neck, softly pushing her away. “Thank you, I honestly have no idea what I’d do without you, Angel.” She smiles and wraps an arm around you.

“I know, who do you think helped you with all those damn orphanages?” You roll your eyes at her smirk as you walk back into the dining room.

“So who’s telling the girls?”

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

“Ja’Marr! Open up! I see his stupid car outside, you’re not fooling anyone!” Yazmine’s incessant yelling and banging on the Cincinnati door seize when the tatted wide receiver yanks it open.

“Woman, you need to chill the fuck out. Whatchu’ doing all that hollerin’ for?” The football player dawned a sweaty white muscle shirt and basketball shorts, clearly he had just finished a workout. Yazmine would usually take more time admiring his strong build, but that’s not why she’s here.

“Where is he? Bring Burrow’s ass out, we need to have a chat.” She demands arms crossed and lips pursed.

Ja’Marr smirks doing his own look over the woman in front of him. “Mm mm mmm. You sure are breathtaking, baby.” He bites his bottom lip tilting his head to get a peak at her backside. “What did I do to earn the sight of this..

“Hey! No, focus Chase.” She snaps her fingers in his face to riel him back in. “Joseph. Burrow. Get him. Now.”

He takes in the serious look on her face and shakes his head. “I assume this is about your girlfriend, so..” He steps back and opens the door wide enough for her to go through then nods towards the direction of his kitchen.

“Thank you.” Yazmine leans up and places a chaste kiss on his cheek. “If this goes well, you might get more later.” Then walks off looking for the quarterback.

“I better be getting more, fucking HOA gon kill me for the damn noise.”

Turning a wide corner, Yazmine spots the man she’s been searching for at the kitchen counter, wearing almost the exact attire as his friend. “Oh sorry, I didn't know you and J were rendezvousing today.”

She looks at the man confused. “Rendezvous? That’s not what we’ve been- nothing is going on.”

Joe cocked his head with a smirk. “Isn’t it though? I’m pretty sure sneaking around for months on end means there’s definitely something going on behind closed doors.”

Yazmine rolls her eyes and sits on a bar stool, leaving an empty one in between them. “Whatever that’s not why I’m here- didn’t you hear me at the door?”

He points to the Beats headphones fitted snugly in his ear.

“Okay well, this is about you and..” Joe scoffs hopping up from the stool.

“If there’s no you and J, there definitely isn’t a me and her. I don’t want to hear it, she clearly doesn't either considering she’s not here herself.” 

Yaz gets up and follows him to the backyard. “This is serious Joe, if she could be here, you know she would.”

“Actually I don't know anything about her anymore, including her number, because she changed it hours after we broke up.” He muttered picking up a basketball, bouncing it once, and shooting- only to airball.

“She had to change it, remember the stupid leak! You didn’t have to block her on everything though, maybe if you had left at least one line of communication open I wouldn't be here, asshole.” She snickers as his second shot also falls short.

“Well get the damn thing over with then. What’s the problem?” 

Her face softens and she reaches into her back pocket. “Joe, she’s pregnant.” 

His frustrated demeanor immediately drops, replaced with wide eyes and parted lips. He slowly feels his world start spinning, he parts his stance and grips onto the basketball for some kind of relief.

“She’s 11 weeks, almost 3 months. It’s most definitely yours and she just got back in town. She wanted me to tell you because she was scared of your reaction, she’s not sure if she wants you to be there though.” Yazmine confesses handing him an ultrasound picture.

“What do y- what? Why wouldn’t she want me there? I- I don’t understand.” His eyes are locked on the image as it shakes in his hand. 

Yazmine lets out a breath. “Think about it Joe, you were nothing but unreliable in the 3 years you were together. You put football, your foundation, even your friends before her. Then when she got her big break, the happiest day of her life, she had to come home to you in bed with someone else. You didn’t know how to be in a relationship so instead of asking her how she felt, you broke her heart. Does that sound like someone she’d want to raise a child with? She didn’t even want to admit to herself, I didn’t find out until a few weeks ago.” She inhales deeply trying to calm her emotions.

“I’m only telling you because it would be cruel not to. Even if I thought telling you would do the trick if that's what she was going for. She doesn’t want anything from you, so don’t worry about being put on child support. I don’t know how the rest of this is going to go, but I will not let you and your bullshit upset her, stress her out, or bother her about it. That’s my best friend and I will do anything to protect her. You may not want to step up to be a father, but that baby will have two parents no matter what.” A stray tear streams down her face, he’s now looking at her intently. 

“Now you have a choice: keep the picture, hide it somewhere then sign away your rights in a few months, or turn it over and change your life.” Yazmine swiped away the tear and then left him alone on the court.

Joe hadn’t realized he too had been crying until a tear dripped onto the paper. He stumbled over to a lawn chair, not taking his eyes off of the black and white fetus. The damp spot now made the paper translucent allowing him to see blue ink on the other side. His brows furrowed then he remembered, ‘Turn it over and change your life.’

Flipping the image hope peaked in his heart as he repeatedly read the number.

The quarterback quickly began to pat his shorts, realizing he left his phone inside. He rushed into the house, passing Yazmine and completely ignoring his teammate to grab his phone on the kitchen counter. Not caring about the small audience he dials the number as fast as he can, praying that she’ll answer.

“Come on, come on. Please pick up.” It goes straight to voicemail, her fake perky voice fibbing about calling back on the other side instead.

But he still takes the chance and leaves a message. “Baby, it’s me. I know, Yaz told me. I’m so sorry, I know it’s long overdue but please if there’s a chance I wanna be there. If this is the only time that I have to get through to you, I’m taking the shot. I know you deserve way better than me and that baby- our baby deserves to have a family that loves them and cherishes them for everything. Give me a chance to be the man you need me to be, I miss you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t see what I had right in front of me. I’m sorry about the image you have of me in her head. If I could start all this over again, I’d change everything I did- I was selfish and foolish. I need you.. I want you, you’re the only one I want. Please, I want to be a father to our baby. I watch them grow up with you. Even if we don’t work out again, I won’t leave our baby. I won’t leave you until you’re kicking and screaming for me to go. Just give me one more shot, to show you that I can be who you need me to be. I don't want this to be the end of our story, tell me I have more time. Please baby, just call me back.”

'This mailbox is now full. Goodbye.'

☆. ° ₊*. :°• .° . ☆ • . .　

Main Masterlist

Like, comment and reblog for a part 2 (should she call him back?)

[604to647]

Strawberry Shortcake (Epilogue)

4.3K / Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Summary: After a few blissful months together, you and Frankie face your first challenge as a couple.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, oral (f receiving), allusion to smut, nicknames (Shortcake, baby, hermosa), single parenthood, Frankie is a dad but he's also daddy, fluffffffff.

A/N: Thank you to those of you who are finishing this mini-series with me! I hadn't originally planned on on Epilogue (posting this at the same time as Part 2), but it felt fitting to add something that combined the vibes of Parts 1 and 2. And of course, we couldn't let Frankie go without letting him🍴😺 (🤭🤭🤭). Hope it's been an enjoyable story and thank you again for reading! 😘

Series Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 2 🍓🍰

Optional soundtrack: "I Wanna Know" by Joe, "Rock the Boat" by Aaliyah, "Peaches and Cream" by 112, "Whatta Man" by Salt-N-Pepa, "Red Light Special" by TLC

Strawberry dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰🥰

The 90s-early-aughts RnB mix on the stereo is playing “I Wanna Know” by Joe as you trail your fingers across the chest of the man sitting rigidly in the chair in the middle of the room, rounding behind his with a flirty sway of your hips.  You love this song, and as you lean over him from behind, your hum of the familiar melody vibrates in the man’s ear before you give it a little nip with your teeth.

“Hermosa.”

“Francisco,” you parrot back to him.  Having now completed your circle of the chair, you nudge open his legs with your knee and he readily acquiesces to your wordless request - spreading his legs wide to accommodate your advancing figure.

You must not be moving fast enough for his liking because Frankie hooks two of his thick fingers into the band of your mesh lavender panties and yanks you towards him.  You brace yourself on his hard chest and push back up, gingerly remove his hand from your underwear, tutting, “Francisco, what’s the rule in the private room?”

Through gritted teeth, Frankie recites, “No touching.”

“Exactly,” smirking, you use your hips to draw figure eights while you slowly lower yourself until you’re face to face with your handsome boyfriend, leaning in to plant breathy butterfly kisses along his scruff covered jaw and down the column of his neck.

Your hands grip his thighs and you’ve arched your back so your barely covered ass sticks up in the air, shaking for Frankie darkened gaze.  He swallows hard and when his Adam’s apple bobs under your lips, you laugh and stick out your tongue to give it a lick.

“I swear to god, Shortcake,” Frankie warns, voice already taking on a low growl.   

But you’re taking your role very seriously, not willing to give in to Frankie just yet.  Sure, it’s not the dimly lit private room at The Midnight Palace with its velvet couch lined walls, but rather your living room where the walls are lined with storage solutions overflowing with kids toys, but the two of you can still play.

“Anything you want me to do, Francisco?” you purr as you get up and stalk around Frankie again, draping yourself over his shoulder from behind, hands rubbing up and down his hard chest.

“Want you to let me touch you, baby,” groans Frankie, “let me make you feel good.”

You’re tempted, of course.  Every time you play this game, it ends with Frankie’s face buried between your legs, pulling at least one more orgasm from you than you had planned on when you gave up the roleplay.   But you still have all your lingerie on and it’s a pretty little lavender set that the man in front of you bought you – it makes you feel sexy as hell; you’re not ready to have it ripped off of you quite yet.

Stepping in front of Frankie again, you continuing to dance, hitting each beat of the music with an exaggerated bump of your hips that sends the tops of your breasts jiggling, nearly popping out of your bra – all right in front of Frankie’s face.  You see his hands start to lift off his thighs and you tsk, “The man I met at The Midnight Palace was so patient and respectful.  What happened to that man, Francisco?”

You turn and press your back right up against Frankie’s chest and slide down slowly, arching your chest out so he gets a good view of your nipples straining against the see-thru fabric.  It takes all of Frankie’s will power not to bit down on the back of your shoulder as he growls, “He discovered what you feel like.”

“Oh yeah?” you grin to yourself, grinding your ass down on Frankie’s growing bulge, “And what do I feel like?”

The low murmur of Frankie’s honey laced baritone sends a chill down your spine, “Like heaven, Shortcake.”

Turning to face him again, you bend over and brace your hands on his shoulders, bringing your face so close to Frankie’s that your noses nudge and you can feel the fan of his breath curl over your lips, “What about me is heavenly, baby?”

“Your lips.” 

At his words, you press your lips lightly to his and when Frankie’s mouth opens slightly to inhale your air, your tongue peeks out to lick his teeth, “What else, baby?”

“Your bare shoulders.”  He’s testing the waters.

Proud that Frankie’s catching on to your little game, you bite your lower lip and flutter your eyelashes while you slower lower your bra straps so they fall down your arms.  “Anything else, daddy?”

“Your pretty tits are heaven on earth, hermosa.”  Though he will never tell you, Frankie loves it when you let him undress you with his words almost as much as he enjoys doing so with his hands.

Now full out grinning, you right yourself and continue to move your body to the music, swiveling your ass in slow circles while you reposition yourself until you settle nicely on Frankie’s thigh with a little bounce.  You wrap both your hands around the wrist of his right hand and bring it up to your face. 

Frankie’s eyes darken with want as you lick your lips and take two of his fingers into your mouth, lightly sucking and stroking his thick digits with your tongue.  When you see him close his eyes and inhale deeply, you fold his remaining fingers down and hold them to his palm with your hands before pulling him out of your mouth and dragging his wet fingers down your throat to your chest. 

When you angle his fingers down the front of one of your bra cups, Frankie instinctively keeps them hooked down between the fabric and your smooth, silky skin; smirking a little when he hears you gasp at the coolness of his wet fingers brushing against your already hard nipple.  You tug down on his wrist and the hold that Frankie keeps on your bra cup pulls it down, allowing your ample breast to tumble out with a drop and a rippling bounce.  You giggle a little when Frankie’s mouth drops also and you hear what sounds like a moan trapped in his throat.  Smiling to yourself, you wordlessly repeat these actions, starting once again with his fingers in your mouth, on the other side of your chest.  When you’re fully exposed to him, bra cups bunched up below your bare chest and bra straps hanging loosely on your forearms, you stand and plant yourself right between his legs.  Pressing your tits together with your elbows, you lean over to press a soft kiss to Frankie’s jaw, right where his scruff is a little patchy and coo, “Like what you see, Francisco?”

He grunts menacingly right into your ear, “Just you wait until I get my hands on you, Shortcake.”

Giggling, you resume your little dance before reaching behind you and undoing your bra, finally letting it fall to the ground.  Giving Frankie one last look at your naked curves before turning around, you bend over – shoving your panty clad ass up and giving it a playful wiggle, “On this too?”

Frankie is nearing his breaking point, and to be honest, so are you.  You’re just as worked up as he is from all this teasing, the damp spot in your panties growing larger and darker the longer he and you keep up your roles.  “Had enough, daddy?” you coo, as you very slowly start to shimmy the band of your panties over your hips, looking over your shoulder to see Frankie’s eyes glued to your barely covered core.

“Seems like you’ve had enough too, hermosa.  Those panties I bought you look soaked through,” he smirks.

Standing again, you pull up your underwear, turn and climb over his thick thighs so you straddle the handsome man who’s still grinning at you cheekily.  Even if he wasn’t right, you would have given in to him at the first appearance of that little dimple of his that shows up whenever he’s being super adorable.  Lowering yourself to sit onto of his straining bulge, you wrap your arms around his neck before giving him a soft peck on his lips, “Yeah, I’ve had enough, baby.  Touch me please, Francisco.”

Frankie doesn’t need to be asked twice – he never does.  His big hands immediately explore, zoning in on all the places he’s been itching to caress and love on: your neck, your tits, soft curvy waist, that ass.  You moan and plead above him, arching into his touch and begging for more as your tongue tangles with his, lips molding together until you bite down on his lower lip and nibble.

Fingers threading through Frankie’s soft curls, you tug and whimper as his mouth makes its way down your throat, licking and sucking zealously as revenge for how you teased him earlier.  When he finally drops down to take a breast in his mouth, you see sudden stars and cry out so loud you think your neighbours might hear.  In the second of reprieve that Frankie allows you, you give a small thanks that Raynor isn’t home but staying with your mother tonight.  But then Frankie starts mouthing and teasing your nipple with his tongue and everything else is forgotten. 

You whine helplessly as he switches between your breasts, giving each its proper attention with his snipping teeth and his soothing tongue, while the other is worshipped and manhandled by his meaty hand.  He repeats this tantalizing pattern so many times you lose count.  As you rake your fingers down his back over his linen shirt, you start to grind small circles over his rock-hard length and Frankie’s free hand grabs your hip to help guide your movements; your clit starts to catch on the seam covering the zipper of his jeans as you build up a faster rhythm and suddenly you’re coming.  Staying latched to your tits, Frankie holds you close and licks your nipples as you shudder and shake through your orgasm; planting a soft kiss to each hard and perky peak once you start to come down. 

Cupping your face to take in your sated, euphoric expression, Frankie kisses you sweetly and murmurs, “Your turn in the chair, Shortcake.”  Still dazed from your unexpected climax, you let Frankie maneuver your body so that you exchange positions - you now sitting in the chair and gazing up at him adoringly as he stands before you.

“Are you going to dance for me, Francisco?” you giggle.

Frankie kneels between your spread legs on the plush carpet and smiles playfully, his eyebrows wiggle as he rubs your thighs, “My tongue plans on doing a little dancing, why do you ask?”

Omigod, a dad joke while he’s eye level with your cunt – you almost groan, but instead squeal when Frankie suddenly hooks his fingers under the side bands of your panties and yanks so hard he sweeps the fabric under you bum in one fluid motion.

“Daddy!  Careful – those are new!” you pout.

Slipping them down your legs and over your feet, Frankie smirks, “I know, baby.  I bought them.  Don’t worry, I’ll buy you more if we ruin them.”  You know he would – Frankie loves buying you lingerie.  He says it reminds him of your time together at the club, and to be honest, you love reliving that time with him where the two of you would get lost in your want for one another, so you always happily indulge his purchases.

But right now, the lingerie that Frankie so greedily watched you model for him earlier holds no interest, he casually discards the wet scrap of mesh and lace over his shoulder as his looks upon your glistening cunt.  Holding your thighs open with his firm hands, he lowers himself and hovers over your mound, inhaling your sweet scent.  You feel his soft breath fanning all your needy parts that ache for his touch and you whine for more.  Twinkling eyes catching yours, Frankie blows gently so that his warm breath hits your wet folds and the sensation sends a chill through you – you squirm and giggle, but Frankie holds you firmly so you stay open and pliant for him. 

“Francisco.”

“Shortcake,” he mimics your earlier exchange, “something you want to say?”

“Please touch me, daddy.”

“Oh, I see – all politeness and no teasing when it’s your turn in the chair?”  He’s having entirely too much fun with this.

You give his floppy curls a harsher than necessary tug with your fingers as a response.

“Okay, okay,” grimaces Frankie, “demanding little pussy, isn’t she?”

Then, before you can retort, he dives in.  Licking long fat stripes through your folds, Frankie explores and tastes you like you’re a culinary spread laid before a starving man.  He swirls and flicks his tongue over all your sensitive pieces until you wail with pleasure, and he hasn’t even begun to properly feast.  Adding his nose to his efforts, he drags the tip up to your already swollen clit and nudges while his mouth continues its happy work.  Inhaling, he grins so big you can feel it against your seam – Frankie always tells you that you smell and taste like strawberries and cream; you don’t quite believe but he swears it’s true.  He declares it whenever he emerges from between your legs, face beaming and shiny with the evidence of your arousal, affirming cheekily that strawberry shortcake remains his favourite dessert.

Right now, he’s devouring you like his favourite course.  Open mouth kissing your pussy and spreading your slick everywhere he can reach whenever your needy hole drowns his talented tongue with another wave.  Pushing his tongue deep into your cunt, Frankie starts to set a steady tempo, using his mouth to create a sucking seal while he tongue fucks you.  At the encouragement of your incoherent moans and praise above him, he keeps his pace fixed and unwavering so that the coil that spools beneath your belly button, where his large hand currently sprawls to hold you still, can twist and tighten, getting ready to ignite with a white fire.  Almost overriding the heaven of his mouth, Frankie’s nose bumps your clit so insistently and so deliciously you start to come undone. 

Grabbing a fistful of Frankie’s soft curls, you sing, “Frankie!  I’m going to come, baby.”  Frankie quickens his movements, pushing his nose, his tongue and mouth, his face, harder and deeper against your pussy so he doesn’t miss a single quiver or a single drop of your nectar as you wail and explode, your second orgasm of the night somehow more earth shattering than the first.

When you come back to yourself, chest still heaving and voice hoarse from screaming the name of the man who remains kneeling before you, you feel rather than see through your still blurred vision that Frankie is still lapping at your juices, pushing you towards overstimulation.

“Frankie!”

He shakes his head violently, mouth still suctioned to your cunt, “Give me one more, hermosa.”

The vibrations of his low baritone are almost enough to restart your spiral, “I can’t, baby!”

“You can,” his voice practically a growl, Frankie nods eagerly against your core before laying fluttering kisses all over your pussy, the wet sounds of his mouth lightly smacking against your wetness spurn you forward and you buck your hips up to meet his lips.  Chuckling, Frankie pulls away slightly from his meal and you whine at the loss of him, but it’s only so he can admire your dripping slit; sliding his thick fingers through your folds, Frankie exhales, ‘Beautiful’, before thrusting two into your cunt – the sudden intrusion has you shrieking in bliss:

“Oh - fuck Frankie, feels so good!”

“Daddy, no one eats me out like you…”

“Oh my god… my god… ruin me, Francisco!”

Continuing to saw his fingers in and out of your tight hole, Frankie flicks your throbbing clit with his hard tongue until you start to writhe uncontrollably, trying to run from his mouth – cutting off your escape, he latches on to your slippery nub and starts to suck.  You howl.

“Come on, baby.  Give it to me,” he hums as you squirm and twist, the rapture Frankie is handing you is too much.  You’re practically sobbing, the edge you’re reaching for so very close yet at the same time, too far away.

“Too much, daddy!”

“You can do it, baby.  Be a good girl and give me another,” Frankie’s voice dark and commanding.

And you do.  You give him another because Frankie eats your pussy like it’s his favourite thing in the world and whenever he goes down on you, he makes sure you know it’s as much for his enjoyment as yours.  You moan just thinking about his cock straining against pants right now, already leaking and making a mess of his boxers just from having tasted you.

You give it to him because his fingers stretch you out like no one else’s ever has or ever will, and he’s discovered parts of you that you can’t reach on your own.  He gives and gives with his mouth and his fingers until your warm walls clamp down on him so hard it’s almost painful, and gush so much it practically drips down his chin.  You give him another because he loves it and so do you.  You love him.

After Frankie somehow arranges your spent and pliable body so that you’re once again in his lap, you kiss him sweetly as you help clean his face with your thumbs and tell him so, “I love you, Frankie.”

Pressing his forehead to yours, eyes closed in contentment, Frankie can never get over how lucky he is to have you, “I love you more, hermosa.”

Snuggling under Frankie’s chin, you litter tiny butterfly kisses on the underside of his jaw, humming to the RnB music that’s still playing from the stereo; before long, you’re shaking your bum to the beat, rubbing up against Frankie’s crotch and giggling.  Frankie looks down at you with his eyebrow cocked, finding your pretty face already grinning impishly at him as you grind down on him more purposefully.

“Alright, you’re going to get it now.  Get to the couch, Shortcake.  Face down, ass up,” Frankie ends his order with a stinging slap to your ass that has you yelping and squealing with excitement.  Practically sprinting to the couch, you assume the requested position, giggling with your cheek pressed down against the couch cushion as you watch Frankie follow, unbuckling his belt with a lazy grin on his face and a lustful gleam in his eye.

---

Later in bed, both warm and pliant from a long soak in the tub together, you lay in Frankie’s arms, fingers lightly drawing circles on his chest through his sleeping t-shirt.

“Frankie?”

“Hmmmhmm,” he hums low, voice raspy from near sleep.

“I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

Frankie eyes open gingerly to find you peering up at him with an adorably worried expression on your face.  He extricates his free hand from underneath the covers and strokes you face lovingly, “Everything will be okay, Shortcake.  I’m sure of it.”

You nod, but bite your lip, still unsure, “What if everyone gets upset?”

An indulgent smile tugs at the corner of Frankie’s mouth, “Do you plan on getting upset, hermosa?”

“Of course not.”

Gently rubbing your temples, Frankie soothes you the best he can, “Well neither am I.  So not everyone can get upset.”

Propping yourself, you shoot playful daggers with your eyes at his grinning face, “You know what I mean!!”

Chuckling, Frankie pulls you down onto him before quickly rolling you over so you’re pinned beneath him; bracing his hands next to your head, he smirks at the semi-surprised look on your face, “I know what you mean, Shortcake.”

He kisses you sweet, light and reassuringly; flutter kisses all over your face, lips, right down your neck before dipping his head to his intended destination: your already perked up nipples poking up against the soft chiffon negligee that he also gifted you.  Between his light nips and sweet kisses Frankie murmurs, “No matter what happens, we’ll get through it, baby.”

“But, w- nghhhh!” The covers are thrown off and the cool night air hits your scantily clad body with a start just as Frankie takes one of your peaks in his mouth and bites down teasingly with his teeth.

“You worry too much, hermosa,” Frankie purrs as he tugs up at your nipple, letting it go and watching it bounce to your whimpers before turning his head to give the other breast the same treatment.  “Head too full to sleep, I think.  Let’s see what we can do about that.”

Giggling, the last thing you see before you throw you head back in unadulterated pleasure is Frankie’s smirking face disappearing between your legs under the fluttering skirt of your nightgown.

The drinks have come.  Two glasses of milk are placed in the centre of the table so they don’t get knocked over, next to your club soda and Frankie’s diet Coke.  The waiter has just left after taking all four orders, leaving the children with colouring sheets and crayons to occupy them during what he promises will be a short wait.

After Frankie picked up Valentina from her mother’s this afternoon, he had swung by and picked you and Raynor up for dinner.  The children never questioned why you were having Sunday dinner at their favourite fast casual restaurant instead of eating a quiet homecooked meal at one of their houses.

Both furiously colouring their masterpieces, Valentina and Raynor remain oblivious to the awkwardness of their parents sitting across the table from them.  You take a deep breath and lean forward over the table as you feel Frankie’s firm hand squeeze your thigh reassuringly before taking your hand in his.  You’re going to do it.  You’re going to tell the kids that you and Frankie are dating.

“Hey kiddos, Uncle Frankie and I have something we want to talk to you about.”

Raynor lifts his eyes to look at you, and Valentina follows suit after an elbowing from her best friend.

Trying to put on a comforting smile, you attempt to get through the speech you practiced with Frankie this morning without tripping over your own tongue, “You may have notice that Uncle Frankie and I have been spending more and more time together… and we’ve realized that we really, really care about each other.  And sometimes when two adults care about each other a lot, it makes them want to spend even more time together, and not in the same way we do with other adults, but in a special way with just each other.  But even though our relationship is changing, we want you to know that we still love you both very, very much and you are both the most important people in our lives – and you always will be.  Just because Uncle Frankie and I are dating, doesn’t mean you have to worry about things changing for you, okay?”

“Okay.” The kids go back to colouring. 

You and Frankie look at each other, That’s it?  Frankie clears his throat and the two children look up at him, “Dating means, very special friends.  Different than the way I’m friends with Uncle Santi or Uncle Will.”

“Okay.”  Two little heads look back down at their art.

Shoot, are we botching this?  Your eyes widen at Frankie and he tries again, “Friends that… kiss.” 

This time when the kids stop their colouring and look up, there’s almost an exasperated expression on their faces.

“We know.”

“We saw you kiss at the movies.”

“And at the zoo.”

“And last week when we were playing t-ball with Uncle Benny.”

“Sometimes you kiss in the kitchen when we’re in the living room watching TV.”

“And after you drop us off at school, you hold hands when you leave.”

“And you’re holding hands under the table right now.”

You drop Frankie’s hand like a hot potato, slack jawed at having been caught by two six-year olds.  When out of the corner of your eye you see Frankie’s shoulders start to shake with laughter, you recover, “I’m sorry, we weren’t trying to keep it from you… we wanted to make sure we knew that it’s something we both wanted before sharing it with you.  Are you okay with me and Uncle Frankie dating?”

Valentina scrutinizes you with an almost intimidating gaze before her face relaxes and she smiles big, “Yeah.  I’m okay.  I think you make my dad really happy.”

Frankie takes his daughter’s hand in his on the table and says in a soft voice, “She does, mija.  Thank you.”

“Ray-ray?”  You study your son, whose thoughtful expression is so much like his father’s.  You give him the time he needs to process, knowing that even if he doesn’t fully understand what ‘dating’ entails, he will have emotions that are valid in the face of change.

“Does Uncle Frankie make you happy too, mama?” when Raynor finally speaks, you could nearly cry – you nod furiously at your considerate, sweet boy.  He nods back, “Then I’m okay with it.”

You and Frankie exchange a smile, of relief and of pride at the sweetness of your children.  Single parenthood is tough, but it’s a little less tough when you do it together.

Valentina’s sugary sweet voice belies the look of mischief currently painting her face, “Are you going to kiss now???”

“Yeah,” says Frankie tenderly, looking only at you, “we’re going to kiss now.”  And he presses his mouth to yours, once, twice, three times – chaste, gentle and full of promise.

At this, your soft and sweet declaration of love, twin voices yell in unison:

“Ewwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!”

Thank you again to everyone who came on this (what turned out to be rather long 🤭) ride with me! Since I'm posting Part 2 and the Epilogue at the same time, I'm tagging a few people who expressed an interest in the story on Part 1 (thank you!! 🥹🥹💖):

@aurorawritestoescape @magpiepills @pastelpinkflowerlife @southernbe @heareball

@mermaidxatxheart @nandan11 @mellymbee @jessthebaker @milla-frenchy

@littlemissoblivious @tuquoquebrute @inept-the-magnificent @posting-my-time

[harringtons-cupid]

Peaches - Part 8

wc:2.7k

Warnings 18+: Smut: choking, creampie. Fluff: baby birth, flashbacks, kissing. Angst: hospital discussion. Might be more! Let me know!

Forgive me if there are typos. English isn’t my only language

Tagged: @urlbitchin @oo0lady-mad0oo, @joejoequinnquinn@moonchildquinn@goldyghoul@josephquinnwitch @mcbeanzontoast @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @urlbitchin @pleasantlycrazyworld

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“Oh fuck baby” Joe’s moans echoed through out, vibrating against the bed.

Your hips were rocking hard against his body, sweat glistened in the early sunlight. Your boobs bounced heavily against your chest, panting hard and hot as his cock hit your soft spot.

Gripping onto any bit of skin you could find as your body shook, you were so close to your orgasm. The sounds of skin slapping and wet squelching noises were mixed between your loud moans.

He looked so pretty as he held onto your cheeks, grinding you against his cock. His eyes were flickering between open and closed, his tip was scratching against the top of your wet pussy.

“You going to cum in me?” You panted, now bouncing heavily as your ass hit his thighs.

Your eyes rolling back slightly as his cock twitched around you, unable to reply to you as he shuddered through his high. His cock spurting hot cum inside you, it felt warm around your walls as his hand began to spank your clit.

It stung as he spanked your clit harder and harder with each movement, you loved it. Thrusting your hips against his cock, it was still hard inside you. Your body twitched as the build up to your orgasm edged closer, gasping as you suddenly grabbed his arms tightly.

“Oh my god, I’m going to cum Joe” you whined loudly, shaking rapidly. He forced your body down, needing you to cum on his cock.

“Cum for me baby” He croaked, using all his force to keep you down as you came hard around him.

Wailing loudly as you felt yourself cum hard, tears dropped from your eye ducts at the intense sensation. No one had ever had you cum this hard before.

He bounced you on his cock until both of you twitched and came for a second time from overstimulation. Determined to keep your pussy full with his cum, he didn’t remove himself from you until the very last second.

This was the best sex of your life, it was also the sex that lead to the pregnancy of your daughter. You would never forget that night with him as you laid alone in the hospital bed, you were a month early.

The doctors made sure you were comfortable, gave you all the things you requested. During your pregnancy Joe had paid for a private room and private care, telling you he wanted nothing more for his baby and you.

But Joe was not conscious to see you both and it terrified you, your eyes grew heavy as no further change to your body occurred. Resting until the sounds of Emily’s voice echoed loudly throughout the hallway, you chuckled as she demanded to see you.

Sleepily, you waved as her head popped through the door. Rushing over to hug you tightly before dropping her things, she kissed your head aggressively with love.

The smell of her crowded your nostrils as she pulled up the closest chair and gripped your hand tightly, her bag rattled against the edge of the side table. Emptying about a few of your favourite things on the bed with an excited babble, she bought you tea and snacks.

As it grew later, her body was now crumpled up in the uncomfortable chair. Her hand still in yours as you felt your body dive into more painful contractions, controlling your breathing as you rolled over onto your front.

You stayed in the this position even after nurses and doctors flowed through the room, Emily had awoken many times since your first proper contractions, your daughter was still nowhere near and you were in agonising pain. All you needed was Joe, to hear his voice and his touch.

He had been in the hospital for over a month now, you had organised the rest of the house for the arrival of your daughter. Not realising that she had other plans until this moment.

29 hours later, your beautiful baby was in your arms. The room was surrounded with your family, all expect one person. The main person, Joe.

Tears began to fall with mixed feelings are she cooed, handing her round to every friendly face in the room. The nurse that was attending Joe was standing by the door with a smile on her face, she held the baby delicately before she handed her back to you.

“Whenever you’re ready, you can show her to him. He’s not awake but he can hear you” her voice was shaky as she leans forward to whisper in your ear.

Your heart breaking instantly at her words, she stays in your arms for a while. Your hospital room is crowded even after you fall asleep, her name still isn’t decided on.

When you awoke, your baby was no longer in your arms. Emily was the only in the room, her tired smile and rough eyes looked at you. She was reading her current book with her hand in yours, the startled look on your face was reassured through three gentle strokes of her thumb.

“Where is she?” Your voice filled with alarm as your heart rate increased. Jolting up in the bed, gasping for breath.

“Hey, it’s okay. She’s just on the baby ward right now, we can go see her if you want?” Her voice was calm and soothing, still stroking your arm softly.

You nodded, unable to say anything. Struggling to get out of bed without her help, you clutched onto her for support as you regained your control. Your legs shaking as you waddling through the hospital, the baby ward was calm and quiet.

Peering through the glass, your eyes scanned until you saw her. Fast asleep amongst the other babies, she was still unnamed.

With the help of Emily and a nurse, you carried her to see Joe. His machines were quick and loud as she cooed in your arms, standing close to him with her warm body.

“Hey Joe, our mini little Peaches is here.” Your voice breaking slightly as she softly began to cry.

“I haven’t named her yet but I was thinking about one of the names that we talked about. Posie sounds nice” tears began to fall down your cheeks, her cries grew louder after you said the name.

Looking down at her as her eyes opened gently swaying her side by side as her little cries filled the room.

“Posie, it’s okay. We’re seeing your daddy” Smiling down at her as she began stop crying at the sound of your voice, bringing her closer to Joe.

His monitor beeped rapidly as you leant forward, it happened so quickly as you were rushed out the room. The nurse taking Posie out of your arms and rushing her back to the baby ward, the door was closed behind you as you listened to the doctors and nurses crowd around Joe.

Your chest grew heavy, your legs buckled as you fell to your knees. Physically and emotionally in every kind of pain, Emily caught you and held you. Finally able to move you from the spot, you were weak and sad as you wondered through the hospital.

Collapsing onto the hospital bed in tears, Emily tucked you under the covers and held you until sleep found you.

You dreamt of Joe, you dreamt that he was holding your daughter.

Your sleep was broken, waking up in cold sweats. Images of Joe in heattbreaking positions with the nurses and doctors crowded around him, making you cry.  You were alone, Emily had written a note.

Hey Peaches,

Joe was stable whilst you slept so I went to check on him.

Love you

Emily

Your tears changed into happy tears, clutching onto the letter. You drank thirstily from the clear cup, laughing to yourself as your body floated with mixed feelings.

Able to walk more freely now, you delicately got changed.  Practically rushing as quickly as you could to get into his hospital room, the machines beeping steadily as you stood in the doorway.

He looked peaceful, Emily was nowhere to be seen as you entered the room. Taking what supposedly was her seat, his hand in yours. You stared at him until your head fell onto his arm asleep.

Awaking to his hand twitching in yours, gasping as you opened your eyes quickly.

“Joe?” Your voice was filled with worry as you scanned his face.

“Peaches” his voice croaked, that beautiful smile appeared on his face.

Tired looks were exchanged, and tears pulled at your tear ducts as you squeezed his hand tighter. Not wanting to hurt him, your body was shaking as you began to cry into his chest.

His smell was faintly wafting up your nostrils, exhaustion seeped across your veins as he weakly pulled you closer. His rasped breathing in your ear as you gently clambered onto the bed next to him. loosely tangling your bodies together. His fingers weaved in between your hair as you felt his body rise and fall, after long sleep found you both.

You stayed with him until the nurse came to collect you, her soft voice soothed you as you kissed Joe softly before leaving him. Not realising you were crying until Posie was thrust into your arms and Emily was wheeling you out into the light. Joe was edging further and further away from you for the first time in weeks, it felt like your whole body was being ripped up.

Settling into a routine was hard, Emily was at your side the whole time. She presumed Joe's side of the bed to assist you with everything whilst Joe healed slowly in the hospital.

A few weeks after you all went home without Joe, you decided to visit Joe with Posie alone. Your nerves were making you shake as you carried her through the hospital, he had been moved from the ICU and into a regular ward making it safer for you all to visit.

He was sat upright in the bed, the sunlight bouncing off his golden curls as he noticed the door opening. You watched as his eyes lit up at the sight of you, beaming at you as you edged closer to the bed.

Posie stirred in your arms as you bent closer to Joe, exposing her pretty face to him. He made grabby motions towards her, as you carefully transfered her into his arms.

She cooed up at him, as he gazed down at her. Smiling from the side of the bed, you fumbled around in your bag until you bought out your camera. Managing to get a shot of Joe still amazed at her, the sunlight exposing the photograph as the snap of the camera took it. You stayed with Joe for as long as you could, the night crept up on you both and 

you leant foreward to kiss him once more before sadly leaving the room. 

As you reached the hospital doors, there was a loud commotion outside. Lights flashing, a babble of voices were echoing throughout the lobby. You were not ready as you pushed the doors open, your vision was blinded from the lights and the noise got louder in your ear. 

Questions were shouted towards you, their bodies were pushing hard against you as you struggled through the crowd and out in the car park. It was the paparazzi, they had heard about Joe’s hospitalization and knew who you were since Comic Con. As you hid Posie under your coat and into your chest, you managed to make it to the car where Emily was standing. With her help you safely put Posie in the car, the fear of the voices and flashing lights made your body shake as the paparazzi gathered around the car. 

Your eyes constantly on Posie, who was gargling underneath the soft muslin clothed blanket in her seat. Emily carefully managed to avoid hitting any of people as she muttered under her breath, happy to be free of the commotion you relaxed into your chair. Once you all arrived home, carrying Posie into the house you noticed a bundle of letters sat on your front mat. Curiously, you picked them up as you rushed upstairs. You sat in the half made nursery as Posie drifted to sleep in her cot, caressing the letters that were addressed to Joe and two that was addressed to you. 

The first one, was colourful and beautiful fan written letter from someone that enjoyed Joe’s movies. After the surface about your recent child and Joe’s accident, this fan decided to send you some love and a handmade knitted baby cardigan. It was peach with white ducks scattered across it, your heart swelled as you lifted it to view it. 

You were unsure if the fan was unaware of your famous nickname or if they liked the colour but your mind drifted to Joe. Feeling happier that he was awake and able to talk, you were hopeful that he was able to come home soon. Tucking the cardigan into one of the mahogany chest of drawers, you opened the second letter. This one was from Joe, 

Peaches, 

Oh how I have missed you, I dreamt about you whilst I was asleep and I forgot just how beautiful you were and our baby. She is divine. 

I cannot wait to start this new journey together with you, I never thought we’d ever be here together but I am so happy we are. 

You will find two bracelets in the envelope, one for mama Peach and one for baby Peach. I was meant to give you them on the day of the accident but that never happened, I am looking forward to seeing you both wearing them when I’m home. 

Yours 

Joe 

Tears had already fallen onto the pages as you clutched them in your hands, rereading his letter over and over again. Until you found the courage to open the envelope further to find two pretty pearl and peach coloured bracelets. Gasping you admired them in the light, they shone brightly as you measured it up to your wrist. 

Not realizing that you fallen asleep in Posie’s room with the letters on your lap until the sound of her cries startled you. Holding her close as she fed, you twisted the bracelet onto her wrist. 

As the early hours of the morning crept through her bedroom window, her small warm body clutching to yours. You heard Emily fumble around quickly before happily entering the room, her eyes lit up with excitement for you.

“Joe has been discharged, would you like me to pick him up?” She pondered, watching as you nodded rapidly. 

Not wanting to be apart from Posie but knew that Emily would be able to avoid the paparazzi. You wandered about the house with Posie close to you, the excitement and nerves of Joe finally coming home after a month away was pulsating throughout you. 

Just as you were about to get tired of waiting, the keys turned in the front door of the house. Emily and Joe’s voices echoed in the hallway as she guided him upstairs, you placed Posie down for a second in the mobile cot as you made space in the bed. 

He looked tired but happy as he steadily walked into the room, crutches helped him before you angled him under the covers. His hair was floppy and stuck to his head, your hands ruffled it up as you let it slide between your fingers.  You were overcome with joy as you smiled at him, he patted the empty spot next to him. 

Posie cooed in her bed as you made yourself comfortable next to him, his arm was resting around your back. Relaxing into the bed, he pushed your head closer to his as you felt his breath on your cheek. You closer the gap between your faces and kissed him, you felt yourself begin to cry from intensity. 

As he pulled away from you, you watched as he grinned at you. Routing around in the bag that Emily had placed on the floor until he pulled out an object. 

“I got you a can of Peaches” his beautiful grin made you laugh with both sadness and amusement. 

It was the battered tin of Peaches that was floating around in the bottom of his bag when the accident happened. His humor was always different to yours but it was one of the reasons why you clicked. 

[jungle-angel]

A Boy And His Critters (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob think your oldest child might be an animal whisperer

Warnings: Mentions of birth, pregnancy, cuteness overload etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @withahappyrefrain @bobfloydsbabe

It was late in the afternoon in early spring, on a day when the hawthorn trees in your yard had just begun to bud and flower. Your birdfeeder already had more than enough visitors, your three cats, Freya, Thor and Pumpkin, having eyed them from the living room window. Already there had been fifteen calf births within the last two days with Bob, his father and his brothers and sisters having to wake at some ungodly hour to help with the births.

You were in the living room of your home in Montana, the soft Disney piano music playing from the speaker on your laptop. Bob lay on the spread out quilt on the living room floor, one pillow under his head and the other under his tummy while he gently rocked Baby Rudy in his little baby hammock. The sun streamed through the windows as you sat close to your husband and baby, the other three outside with their grandparents or aunts and uncles while you were busy carding the freshly shorn sheep's wool from the week before. You set aside your brushes and quickly took a snapshot of the sweet sight, hoping to add it to the photo album later.

You heard a loud meow and felt that familiar bushy tail brushing against you, looking down to find Thor rubbing against you. "You need a good brushing," you chuckled, teasing him with the carding combs.

"S'it the cat again?" Bob mumbled with a yawn.

"Yep," you answered, getting back to your work. "Rudy asleep?"

"Mmmhmm," Bob answered. "M'gonna go see if Dad needs help and come back for a nap."

Bob rose from his spot and kissed you before heading out to the barn to see if his father needed any help. "Hey sleepyhead!" the older Floyd greeted, tipping his black cowboy hat a little.

"Hey Dad," Bob answered sleepily. "Everything good?"

"Yeah everything's lookin good," Joe answered. "The hands have it all down so we don't have to worry until the spring auction. The baby go to sleep?"

"Just went down for a nap," Bob yawned. "I think I might too, my eyes are starting to itch."

Bob and his father conversed back and forth, totally unaware at first of the clanking of a metal bucket and the hurried footsteps of five year old Auggie.

"Bud?" Bob asked when he finally saw. "Whatcha doin?"

"Nothin Daddy," Auggie chirped.

"Doesn't look like nothin," Joe chuckled.

"I gotta go milk the cows, Papa!" Auggie announced.

Joe and Bob were humored to say the least, more so when they saw Smokey, the crotchety old rooster weaving his way in and out from between Auggie's legs. They followed behind him to make sure he didn't get into trouble, when he approached the female dairy cow that Joe and Irene had taken in, singing in his chirpy little voice, one of the farm songs he had learned in his kindergarten class at the so-called "hippie school" he attended with the other Dagger children.

"Holy shit," Joe chuckled. "Get a load of this Bobby."

Bob was thunderstruck when he saw the old bat following Auggie into the barn with Smokey still clucking away between his little cowboy boots. Normally it would take two or three of the hands to lead her in, but here was Auggie, five years old and barely up to his father's hips, leading her into the stall with no issues.

"Un......believable," Bob laughed.

"How the fuck does this kid do it?" Joe wondered out loud, a broad smile on his face at the sight of his grandson.

Bob quickly pulled out his phone and began recording, hoping to be able to show the others when they had a chance to come by. Auggie chirped away as he milked the cow until a startled moo came from her.

"Sorry Peach, but that's what Daddy does to Mommy and it works."

Bob stifled a squawk in his throat but not before Auggie began yelling at him in his best Shrek voice.

"AYE! GET OUT ME FUCKIN SWAMP!!!!!"

"August Robert!" Bob laughed.

Auggie hurried over but Bob was in too good a mood to discipline his son. "Sorry for using a dirty word, Daddy," he apologized.

Bob picked his son up and kissed his cheek, Auggie's glasses falling slightly off the bridge of his nose. "I'm glad you said sorry, but Daddy should remember the rule the he and Mommy put into place."

When Bob was able to go back inside, he showed you the video including the one of Auggie's Shrek impression.

"You'd think he was an animal whisperer by the way Smokey follows him around," you laughed.

"Sometimes I like to think so sweetheart," Bob yawned as he lay on the couch.

You set aside your carding combs and the wool, covering Bob with the spring quilt and snuggling in beside him, the two of you proud as ever of Auggie.

[accio-lo-ki]

friends? best friends.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief, Rick Riordan / The Louvre, Lorde / Jennifer's Body (2009), dir. Karyn Kusama / An Ode To A Conversation Stuck in Your Throat, Del Water Gap / Anyone Else But You, The Moldy Peaches / Change My Mind, One Direction / I'm Drunk, I Love You (2017), dir. JP Habac / It's Nice To Have A Friend, Taylor Swift / Love, Rosie (2014), dir. Christian Ditter / You Are In Love, Taylor Swift / Dress, Taylor Swift / Beautiful World, Where Are You, Sally Rooney / X-Men: First Class (2011), dir. Matthew Vaughn / Peace, Taylor Swift / Little Women (2019), dir. Greta Gerwig / 13 Going On 30 (2004), dir. Gary Winick / Lucky, Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat / One Day (2024), Netflix / Funny Story, Emily Henry / Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), screenplay by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely / Only Friend, Wallows / X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), screenplay by Simon Kinberg / Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), dir. Joe and Anthony Russo / The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

[skullsenpai]

This took longer than it should

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

Peter is yelling, hands cupped at his mouth.

Howie is on his feet, cheering.

Clint’s on the ring edge, calling out tips.

Steve’s staring down the opponent’s boyfriend.

Bucky watches her dodge right, hands up protecting her face. Her knee comes up, connecting with the girl’s side. She stoops, her first mistake. Y/N grabs the back of her head, her toes barely touching the ring mat, before her knee comes back up faster this time. Y/N slams the girl’s head down, meeting her knee. Shoving the girl back, into the ropes, when she stumbles from the knee to the face, Y/N winds up, throwing an absolute ruthless right hook to the jaw.

Her head snaps back, blood spraying, her body goes limp, hitting the mat with a thump.

The Ditch goes nuts, screaming from all sides. Cheering, celebrating, talking shit.

TC dips under the ropes, grabbing Y/N’s hand, holding it up, cheering just as loud.

When the Stark’s meet eyes. Howie and Peter are on their feet. Y/N bounces on her toes, all three at the same time, flex inward, with a loud “AHHHHH!” at one another.

“That’s our girl!” Becca is on her feet, screaming for her best friend.

He grins when his girl locks eyes with him. She grins, rolling her eyes at him.

They still went to The Ditch, sometimes TC worked the decks there. Mainly when Y/N wanted to beat on bitches for kicks. She was getting Becca into it now. Only Y/N’s now fighting top fighters from other areas, coming to see what she’s made of.

Sure she might be taking over the table, running her own mafia, and be the most feared thing in Saints high school, but she’s still the girl that needs a good fight to feel calm. Compromises were made between him and her when they started settling into life together. Like her training with Frankie and TC, after the battle for her, she never wants to be underprepared for another fight. He couldn’t blame her, encouraged her.

The memory of her in the hospital, damaged and broken, burned into his mind for life.

A tight feeling appeared in his chest, worrying about his baby sister taking over.

“Boss man?” She’s next to him, Clint cutting the tape off her hands. Steve, cleaning up the few cuts on her.

“The right hook, baby girl.” He shakes his head, smirking at her. “I’d say it’s blessed by Satan.” He chuckles, leaning into kiss her.

“But I am Satan.” She laughs against him, kissing him again.

“Don’t we know it.” Clint snorts.

“Unlikely to ever forget it.” Steve shakes his head.

“And if you do, I’ll remind you.” She sasses, like a snotty teenager.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” The two mutter at the same time, laughing.

“Ah.” Steve pauses.

“What?” He asks.

Steve scratches the back of his head. “Is that new or old?” He cut his eyes to her thigh and back away.

Fingerprints, on the outside of her thigh, a thumb print on the inside of her thighs.

“Old.” She grins in Steve’s face.

“Scarred for life.” Becca whines, walking away.

Clint looks down and back to her. “That’s hot.” He grins.

“Fuck yeah.” She laughs, they high five.

“Alright, enough of that.” He pushes Clint away, making him laugh.

-----

The house party loud and packed. The typical Friday night high school parties for them. He sat on the couch talking with the guys. “What’s the policy for fighting here?” Howie laughs, sipping from his beer bottle.

“Don’t. Why?” Steve smirks.

“Cause if Smalls sees that girl eye fucking Bucky, that policy won’t matter to her.” Peter laughs.

“Does any rule?” Bucky sighs.

They all laugh.

“Boss man.” She saunters up to them. Dark cut off shorts, a cut short red T-shirt, with a black sports bra underneath. Her ball cap turned backwards, dark hair in messy waves.

“Doll?” He smirks up at her when she comes to stop the side of the couch, he’s on.

She leans down, black fingernails tip his chin up towards her. Her eyes cut to the side and instead of kissing him as he thought. She licks him, from his jaw to his eyebrow. Staring down the girl watching him. She looks startled before she bumps into someone trying to get away.

“Much better.” She smiles pretty walking away.

Peter’s brow yanks down. Howie looks confused. Steve and Clint are unbothered.

“Did our baby sister,” Howie blinks.

“Lick you?” Peter’s eyelids flutter quickly.

“Yup.” Clint and Steve reply, throwing back shorts.

“What in the fuck?” Peter laughs.

“Not new.” Clint shakes his head, downing his beer.

TC is moving towards them, a look of worry on his face.

“What?” He puts his cup down.

“Pretty sure Eddie is across the street.” He jerks his thumb backwards.

They exchange a look between the five of them before jumping up and hurrying out of the house.

Indeed, on the other side of the road, sits Eddie parked, leaning against his car. He smirks at them, as they come to stand on the walkway of the house.

“Gwen get in the house.” Y/N’s voice hits his ears.

“Y/N.” Gwen sounds nervous.

“Wanda stay here.” Y/N orders, he can hear her coming up behind them. She cuts around him, walking down the path, they follow her. She stops on the edge of the curb.

Eddie flicks his eyes from her to Becca, standing next to her.

“Try it.” Y/N warns him.

Eddie smirks, cutting his eyes back to Y/N. They stare back at one another.

She stares him down, Buck looks from Eddie to Y/N, something dark and dangerous in her brown eyes.

It’s Eddie who blinks first, looking away. Suddenly he gets back into his car, leaving.

She turns on them, staring at each of them for a moment.

“Something you boys need to tell me?” Her brow lifts, Becca looks tense next to her.

“We don’t know what that was about.” He assures her.

She nods slowly. Cutting between them heading back towards her girls at the door. The six of them exchange a look, heading for her. She pauses, taking the cup from Gwen, she turns to them standing above them on the front stoop.

“You better swear on whatever god you believe in, Boss man; you didn’t lie to me.” She repeats the saying from the beginning, when they first started out and Ben Rielly and Sina were causing issues for them. The ice cold look in her eyes, makes his steps stop suddenly.

“I’ll make your life hell, James Barnes, you think before was rough, you haven’t seen shit yet.” She warns him. Turning, she steps into the house between her friends, walking away.

Fear creeps into his chest.

He swallows hard.

-------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @irepeldirt @joannie95 @nunu2888 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @destiel-artemis @hookslove1592 @CallSign-Vesta @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @wonderswrittings @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love