#you are not a “wine mom” you're an alcoholic and you need help

[gachagon]

I guess Ruby and Weiss had way more in common than they first thought when they first met, considering they both have to deal with alcoholics in their family. Another thing I'll give RWBY credit for is not treating Weiss' moms drinking as a joke, or something quirky that's apart of her personality.

With Qrow it was clear he was using his whole "I'm a drunk uncle" schtick to cover up his actual very real and serious depression. And it's great to see that after that episode about Apathy, he's decided to quit drinking for good.

In many shows, we see women who struggle with Alcohol addiction get treated like a joke, as if a woman getting drunk early in the afternoon repeatedly to "deal with her crazy family" is something funny. But this isn't funny, it's heartbreaking, and sad and a very familiar story for many people. Her alcoholism is treated just as sensitively as any other terrible affliction, and I appreciate that they did that when they really could've just made her addiction unserious.

[mariasont]

aaron hotchner masterlist

smut = ✧ clean (ish) = ♡ angst = ✩

this list goes oldest to newest! (idk why i did it like that but im too lazy to change it now)

fics:

✧ our minds entwined WIP paused!

one shots:

♡ marked territory: you are not happy about a consultant trying to make a move on your man

✧ negotiation with mr. h pt 1 pt 2: hotch doesn't know what to do when his nanny flirts with him out of the blue

♡ bumper to bumper: you can't seem to park your car and hotch is the man to help

♡ office sleepover: you get put on a hit list and have to stay over at the office pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

✩ the manuscript: you find a series of letters aaron wrote you in college

✩♡ talking to a brick wall: you overheard aaron’s not so nice words about you

✧ spoiled: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

♡ some profiler you are: in which hotch insists you stay with him after you get shot

✧ ideas from a book: in which hotch catches you reading smut and finds out you have a gun kink

♡ give this old man a heart attack: you almost get yourself killed on a case and hotch has some choice words about it

♡ they think i'm pregnant: the team thinks you're pregnant and you decide to have a little fun with it

✩ please, don't prove 'em right: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events pt 1, pt 2

♡ stupid crush: being the youngest member of the bau you think you have no shot with your hot boss

♡ late night podcast: hotch finds you fast asleep to the soothing sound of a seriel killer podcast

✩♡ too emotional: you and hotch are taken hostage, hotch makes some comments, but is it part of the plan or did he mean that?

♡ dangerous: you get hit with some laughing gas and become much more bold and flirty with your boss

♡ schoolboy-esque: spencer and hotch spend the day competing for your attention

♡ secret nicknames: hotch accidentally calls you your middle name at work causing suspicion in the team

✧ let me take care of you: you had a rough day at work and hotch decides to draw you a bath and help you relax with a couple creative methods

✩♡ softly, slowly: you have a hard time opening up because of a past of your mom being dismissive with your feelings but hotch is slowly helping you overcome that

✧ short skirt, long day: on paperwork days you tend to wear short skirts, one day perv!aaron decides to take advantage of that

nanny!reader

♡ laundry day: hotch notices a difference in how his clothes smell and realizes his nanny might have something to do with that

♡ parent-teacher conference: nanny!reader isn't too happy about a teacher trying to flirt with her boss

♡ date night: nanny!reader comes home after the worst date

♡ career day: mr. hotchner can't make jack's career day so nanny!reader steps in and maybe embellishes just a smidge about how the fbi works

bimbo!assistant!reader

♡ my assistant: bimbo!assistant!reader can't reach a book so hotch helps you out

♡ my boss won’t be happy about this: bimbo!assistant!reader is wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

♡ strawberry wine: hotch is a lot more flirty when he's got some alcohol in him (bimbo!assistant!reader)

♡ semantics: bimbo!assistant!reader flirts with an officer that has been driving hotch mad all day

♡ jealousy, jealousy: a witness flirts with hotch and bimbo!assistant!reader thinks that hotch is reciprocating

♡ good luck charm: bimbo!assistant!reader is gone for the morning and leaves hotch a couple sticky notes

♡ training day: bimbo!assistant!reader doesn't understand why hotch is giving her training lessons, but apparently he thinks she needs it

♡ talk about a bad date: bimbo!assistant!reader went on a shitty ass date and calls hotch to her rescue

♡ rainy with a chance of hotch: bimbo!assistant!reader gets caught in the rain

♡ business of making babies: bimbo!assistant!reader gets hotch worked up at the casual mention of kids

♡ smiling like a fool: hotch is the one making bimbo!assistant!reader flustered for once

♡ lovely menace: hotch and bimbo!assistant!reader are in an established relationship and reader lovessss to be a menace at work

♡ a pen for your thoughts: 5 times hotch found himself unexpectedly drawn to bimbo!assistant!reader before they were together and 1 time when they finally were

[punkshort]

Roommates | 9. hold onto each other

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You build up enough courage to finally talk things out with Joel and tell him how you feel before the wedding is over.

Chapter Warnings: language, food and alcohol consumption, lots of smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral (f!receiving), pussy pronouns, fluff, discussions of mental health, shower sex, mirror sex, having sex while on the phone (don't know what else to call it, also don't know if that requires a warning), thigh fucking?, dirty talk, idiots in love

WC: 7.6K

A/N: I will not apologize for what you're about to read. (It's filth. Pure, unadulterated filthy smut).

Series Masterlist

"That is the man you were roommates with?" your mother asked enviously as she gazed at Joel across the dance floor, who was standing with another groomsman while he held up his mom's pink sparkly phone to record her dancing with Tommy.

"Yep," you said longingly, tearing your eyes away from him to look back at your mom. She tilted her head to the side and her brow furrowed ever so slightly.

"He looks familiar."

Your eyes widened and you tried your best not to scream into the palms of your hands as images of your own mother stumbling across Joel's porn filled your head.

She snapped her fingers with a smile. "Mitch and I saw him at the bar the other night! He must have been helping Tommy, he was carrying boxes of alcohol."

You shook your head. "No, Mom, that couldn't have been him."

"No, I'm certain it was. I remember even telling Mitch at the time they looked alike. And I would never forget those arms. The way they practically burst out of his T-shirt-"

"Mom!" you whined, begging her to stop.

She chuckled and took a sip of her wine. "Oh, please, let me have my fun."

You groaned and drank the rest of your champagne. Well, at least she didn't recognize him from porn.

The song changed to another ballad and you watched as Mrs. Miller kissed Tommy on the cheek before breaking away and motioning towards Joel. A small smile tugged at your lips as he pocketed her phone and took her hand before leading her around the dance floor. His face was filled with such love and adoration that it made your heart melt.

As you continued to watch Joel and his mother move around the dance floor, you felt yourself growing nervous again. Now that the cake was cut and the first dances were done, most of the significant parts of the wedding were over. Which meant soon you would need to muster the courage to talk to Joel.

Fuck, maybe you should have one more drink.

No, you didn't want to be drunk when you told him. He needed to know you meant what you said. You've done enough to him in the past year, jerking him around and unintentionally hurting his feelings. If you had any shot in hell, you had to make sure you were somewhat clearheaded.

Your mother was just finishing up her cake when she looked over your shoulder. Her eyes lit up excitedly and she straightened up in her seat, smoothing down her dress. With a frown, you turned to see what she was looking at then felt your heart skip a beat when you saw Joel approaching.

"Evenin'," he said to your mother, his voice deep and syrupy. "I'm Joel, brother of the groom." He stuck out his hand and your mother giddily handed hers over while giving her name. He brought her knuckles to his lips and she giggled, making you roll your eyes.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," she gushed, her cheeks tinting pink already.

"Pleasure's all mine, ma'am," he answered, dropping her hand with a smirk. She gave you a look and raised her eyebrows.

"Ma'am, did you hear that?" she loudly whispered to you.

"Yes, I am sitting right here," you said flatly.

Joel cleared his throat and you looked back up at him.

"Was wonderin' if I could have this dance," he said to you, then glanced at your mother. "If you could spare her, that is."

Your mother giggled again and waved him off. "Of course! You two have fun, I was getting ready to go home soon anyway."

You quickly said your goodbyes to your mom before allowing Joel to lead you out onto the dance floor. He took one of your hands and held it out to your side, the other sliding around your waist while you rested your hand on his shoulder with a smile.

"I'm so honored," you told him with a teasing lilt to your voice as he slowly lead you around the dance floor.

"Why?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"I haven't seen you dancing with anyone else except your mom."

He smirked and tilted his chin up to look somewhere over the top of your head. "You been watchin' me?"

Your cheeks warmed from embarrassment but you didn't really care. "Maybe."

He hummed, smirk still stretched across his lips as he looked around the banquet room, but he wasn't really looking at anyone or anything in particular.

"You look handsome."

His eyebrows shot up and he looked down at you once again. "Thank you?"

You giggled and felt his fingers grip your waist a little tighter. "Is that a question?"

He grinned and shook his head. "Tryin' to flatter me, what're you up to?"

The butterflies began to stir in your belly once again so you dropped your gaze. "Well, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."

The smile slowly slid from his face when he heard the serious tone to your voice. "Everythin' okay?"

"Y-yeah, everything's fine," you quickly assured him. Just then, Michael Bublé's voice faded out and the DJ picked a Black Eyed Peas song that instantly caused the dance floor to break out into cheers, completely ruining the atmosphere from a moment ago. "Nevermind," you said as you attempted to step away, but he tightened his grip. "I'll tell you some other time."

"Tell me now."

You winced when a handful of girls nearby began to drunkenly scream along to the lyrics. Joel looked frustrated when he finally dropped his hand from your waist but kept his other hand firmly wrapped around yours. "Follow me."

He lead you through the crowd and as you passed by your abandoned table, you grabbed your clutch. Shit. Were you really going to do this? Were you really going to pour your heart out to him in the middle of his brother's wedding? What if he shot you down? What if he got mad at you for trying to drag him into your messy life once again? What if you were about to ruin the fragile relationship you just rebuilt?

He pulled you into the lobby, which was relatively empty given the time of night, and found a small area with a few couches and chairs and a television airing the local news on mute with the closed captioning on.

"Alright," he urged when you sat down next to him on one of the couches. You could hear the bass thumping from the closed banquet room and people's laughter echoing over the music, but otherwise it was quiet. You fiddled with the hem of your dress, trying to give your nerves a chance to settle, but it was no use.

"So, I told you I've been in therapy," you began, staring down at your lap, pretending to find a loose thread in your dress.

"Mhm."

"Lately, I've been working on my insecurities and self destructive tendencies. Specifically, related to you."

His fingers that were once casually tapping on the back of the sofa suddenly stopped.

"Okay..." he said slowly.

You cleared your throat and kept your eyes pinned to your lap.

"... and your job," you added, biting the inside of your cheek. "I've been working on... learning to be okay with it. Focusing on the source of my insecurities and why I feel the way I feel about it and I think I've made some progress."

"That's... good," he told you, clearly confused. "But why are you tellin' me this?"

You sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to look at him. He was staring at you softly with his perfect lips pouting so enticingly, giving you the final bit of courage you needed to say what you wanted to say.

"I'm telling you this because... because I want to be with you, Joel. If you'll give me another chance, I want to do this right." His expression remained unchanged so you barreled ahead. "I don't care about your job. Not anymore. I just want to be with you. You make me happy, you make me laugh, I think about you all the time." You were growing more nervous with every passing second where he didn't say anything, so you continued to fill the silence with your own rambling thoughts. "Any time something good happens, I want to call you. Any time something bad happens, I want to call you. It's always you. It's always been you. And I'm sorry for everything I put you through and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to fix myself, but I couldn't -"

"Stop."

Your words died in your throat at his harsh tone. Biting your lip, you closed your eyes and tried not to cry as you waited for the sting of his rejection, but to your surprise, it never came. Instead, you felt his fingers gently pinch your chin. You opened your eyes to find him leaning forward, his gaze seeming angry despite his soft touch.

"You don't need to fix yourself," he said bitterly. "You're fuckin' perfect."

You exhaled loudly, a dry chuckle slipping past your lips as you wiped away a tear or two. "I'm not."

"You are," he told you firmly before finally closing the distance between you and brushing his lips softly against yours. "You are," he whispered again and again, each sweet kiss becoming more urgent than the last. You grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and held him close, pressing your mouth against his tightly before leaning back and pushing your foreheads together with a smile.

"Is that a yes?" you laughed.

"'Course it is, you kiddin' me?" he said quietly before sliding his hand up to grip the back of your neck, his nose gently nudging yours, the both of you taking a few tender moments to soak everything in with matching smiles. "I should probably tell you somethin', though."

One hand dropped from his collar and you tipped your head back a fraction so you could look him in the eye. "What?"

He grinned and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I quit my job."

Your eyes widened and you leaned all the way back in surprise. "What?!"

"Months ago, actually," he said with a laugh. You smacked him on the shoulder but you weren't mad. In fact, you were smiling so much it almost hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I didn't wanna pressure you. You said you were workin' on yourself and all that."

Your lower lip trembled and you smacked his shoulder again, but with less force. "I can't believe you," you whispered before tugging him forward and sliding your tongue past his lips with a moan. There was something so beautiful to be had in that moment. Each of you had done something monumental to try to make it work between you and it was so moving, so powerful that you found yourself getting carried away, completely forgetting where you were as you climbed into his lap, his hands immediately dropping to squeeze your ass. But who could blame you, when you've waited so long for that moment?

Joel pulled his head back with a sharp inhale, breaking the kiss when he heard a door across the lobby open and close. "Do you... we oughta... they're probably wonderin' where we are." He lifted one arm so he could check the time on his watch, then glanced back up at you. You were staring down at him, breathless and needy, your eyes already drifting back down to his mouth.

You didn't need to say anything.

"Fuck it, c'mon," he said, quickly lifting you off his lap so you could both stand. In your eagerness to race to the elevator, you almost forgot your purse. Doubling back as fast as your heels would carry you, you grabbed it from the couch and hurried back just as the elevator doors opened.

He jabbed the L4 button numerous times until the damn doors slid shut.

"Christ, wanted this for so long," he whispered, eyes squeezing shut when you pushed him up against the side of the elevator. "Wanted you for so long," he corrected himself after a moment. Your mouth found the exposed patch of chest at the top of his shirt and your tongue slipped out between your lips, flicking against his skin as you continued to leave wet kisses everywhere you could find. You made it to the hollow of his throat when the elevator dinged and you tore yourself away to drag him down the hall.

"Which room?"

"Don't care."

You picked yours. Your fingers were shaking as you raked through your small clutch, then tapped the hard plastic against the sensor, getting frustrated when you were going too quick and the door wouldn't open. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, digging his hips against your ass so you could feel his arousal through your clothes.

"Not helping," you muttered before forcing yourself to slow down and finally the door gave way and you stumbled inside.

His mouth was on you in an instant. Eager lips pressed against your own, champagne soaked tongues reunited, tangling together while you recklessly shoved his tuxedo coat over his shoulders, leaving it crumpled on the floor near the bathroom as you made your way to the bed.

Joel's hands slid up and down the back of your dress, fingers plucking at the fabric, trying to locate the zipper without having to pull away. You tugged one of his hands to your side without looking, blindly leading him to his target. He smiled against your lips and yanked the zipper down so fast, he nearly tore the fabric.

Leaving your dress in a pile at the foot of your bed, you pulled away from the kiss so you could fall back onto the mattress. Your chests were heaving in unison as you both fought for air, staring at one another, anticipation growing thick.

His eyes drifted down your almost naked body while his fingers worked the buttons on his dress shirt, lips parted to suck in more air as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Is this real?" he asked, eyes catching yours once again after he shrugged off his shirt.

"I think so," you replied quietly, sounding just as incredulous. "I hope so."

He loudly unbuckled his belt, then the fly of his pants as you laid before him, sprawled out over the plush comforter like an offering.

"Ain't ever lettin' you go after this," he warned as he stepped out of his pants. "Never again, hear me?"

You nodded. "Please don't."

He cupped his palms around the backs of your knees and tugged, pulling you to the edge of the bed with one rough motion.

"As pretty as these are, they gotta go," he murmured, hooking his fingers around the lace edge of your panties and sliding them down your legs. A little pained sound rumbled in the back of his throat when he spread your knees and saw the evidence of your arousal between your legs. He fell to his knees and rested the side of his face against your thigh as he gazed down at your aching center.

"Missed you," he whispered lovingly into your folds before dragging his tongue, slow and broad, through the entire length of your slit.

"Oh, my god," you whined when his lips puckered around your clit and gently sucked. "Were you talking to me or her?"

You felt his lips twitch against your sensitive skin and released your bundle of nerves with a little moan. "Was talkin' to her but I missed you, too."

Some sharp, sarcastic comment was on the verge of slipping past your lips but quickly got swallowed down and forgotten when he began to lick, his tongue probing into your cunt while his upper lip pressed against your clit. The friction from his beard on the most sensitive part of your body made you see stars. Your back arched and you cried out his name, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he continued to lick and suck with a deep groan.

"Joel," you whimpered, legs weakly stretching and kicking under his ministrations. He quickly put a stop to that by grabbing both and tossing them over his shoulders then using his hands to grip your thighs, but still you writhed in his hold.

"Y'got know idea what you do to me," he whispered under his breath before diving back in.

"Fuck... I-I can't..." you panted, fists grabbing the comforter, pulling and tugging, desperate to grab onto anything. His fingers dug into the crease of your thighs, holding your hips against his face, fucking you relentlessly with his tongue as if he were afraid he would never get a chance to do it again.

He slid one hand flat over your mound and pressed down on your clit with his thumb. You bucked off the bed, everything feeling too sensitive, too sharp. But still, he pinned you down, his tongue that was once lapping at your pussy suddenly more focused and calculated when his lips puckered together in favor of loudly kissing your sex with a deep groan.

With two quick and firm circles over your clit, you fell apart. He was saying something, you could feel the vibrations of his voice, but you had no idea what he said. Your throat had grown hoarse, fingers grabbing for his hair while your heart pounded in your ears.

"It ain't ever been like this," he said, and finally you were able to understand him. You slowly opened your eyes to find him hovering over you, his beard and mouth shiny with your slick and his eyes so wide and soft it made your chest ache.

"I know," you whispered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed when you pulled him close and pressed your mouth against his. He pushed you up the bed so your head rested on the pillows, never once breaking the deep kiss. It was slower, now. There was no rush, no need to hurry to keep what you had a secret.

"Shit, my condoms are 'cross the hall," he mumbled against your lips. The very last thing he wanted to do was leave you. Not now. Not ever.

"Just make sure you pull out," you told him, apparently also unwilling to let him leave, and reached down between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his thick length.

"Y-yeah, okay... okay," he breathed when he felt you line him up with your entrance.

His brain went numb and his features went slack as he slowly eased inside you. He couldn't take his eyes off your face; the way your eyebrows pinched together and the sound you made when you gasped softly, your body being forced to adjust to his size after months without him.

"Fuck," you whispered, eyes welling with tears as you gazed up at him.

"I know, I know," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips over your nose.

"Joel, I love you," you whimpered in his ear when he finally buried himself fully inside you.

"What?" he asked breathlessly, certain he misunderstood.

"I love you," you repeated, your teeth nipping at his chin as you writhed underneath him, willing him to move. His eyes squeezed shut and he wrapped his arms around your middle, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"I love you, too," he choked out, voice thick with emotion that he tried to stifle with kisses to your throat and jaw. "Love you so fuckin' much. Always did, I think."

He clenched his jaw and flexed his hips, pulling a sweet moan from your lips as you tipped your head back and closed your eyes. He was so slow with it, making sure you felt every inch when he dragged his cock in and out, your arousal painting his inner thighs every time his hips made contact with your skin. You might have felt embarrassed if you both weren't so preoccupied with trading love bites and occasionally whispering you feel so good, I missed you, I love you, I love you, I love you, chests pressed together, desperate to get as close as possible.

You unhooked your ankles from his lower back and slid your legs up his sides so your knees were resting near his ribs. With his tongue still tangled with yours, he blindly reached down to grab one of your thighs and gently pressed forward, pushing your knee towards your chest. Your eyes flew open and you gasped at the intense angle, but still he kept up the same pace. Every thrust was slow and deep, every groan was low and soft, and every whisper sounded like a prayer.

"Just wanna feel you," he murmured against your neck, his beard scraping your skin, making it feel warmer than it already was. "Wanna fuck you like this always. Shit, baby," he moaned when he felt you clench around him. "Shit, that feels good. Such a soft pussy..." he trailed off and latched onto your lips for a fast and messy kiss. "Oh, fuck... best fuckin' pussy I've ever had."

And oh, did you love hearing that. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp with a deep sigh.

"Yeah? You love her, too?"

He grinned. "Y'know I do."

He hitched your other leg over his arm, practically bending you in half while grinding into you, watching as your breath quickened and your tongue shot out to wet your lips. "Joel," you whined, the pressure mounting low in your belly, "I'm close, I'm... fuck, I'm gonna come. Please," you begged, not really sure what you were begging for in the first place. Maybe for him to keep going. Maybe for him to kiss you again. Maybe for him to fill the hole in your heart that's been destroying you for months.

When you came, you squeezed around his cock, his name getting caught in your throat when his mouth crashed over yours.

"So pretty," he mumbled, voice a little strained as he tried to keep it together long enough for you to come down. "Love watchin' you come. Who makes you feel good, baby?"

"You do," you whimpered, weak fingers grabbing at his shoulders.

"'S'right," he said, his breath growing ragged. He could feel his stomach tensing and he knew he only had a few more moments. "Only me. Tell me you're mine," he pleaded, his sweaty forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"I'm yours, Joel," you told him, voice a little clearer but still shaky. "And you're mine," you added softly, corner of your mouth lifting when you heard him groan.

He pulled out and grabbed his cock, giving it only a few quick strokes before he painted your stomach with his release, the both of you watching in a daze until he stopped with a shudder and collapsed onto the bed next to you, chest heaving with an arm draped tiredly over his eyes.

"I'll get somethin'," he told you, gesturing vaguely towards your stomach with his eyes still hidden. "Just... gimme a second."

"Mhmm," you mumbled, catching your breath with your arms stretched above your head. "I need a shower, anyway," you told him, all the hair products and makeup from the past twelve hours beginning to feel like paint.

"Oh?" he questioned, sounding disappointed when he turned his face to you. "Okay, sure."

"Will you stay?" you asked, hating how pathetic you sounded. But he smiled warmly and pinched your chin before planting a soft kiss against your lips.

"'Course I'll stay," he whispered, kissing you slowly once more before releasing you.

Joel watched with a lazy smirk as you stood with a quiet ow under your breath, your body no doubt already sore.

"Gonna have to get that pretty pussy used to me again," he teased, laughing and dodging the pillow you grabbed from the other bed that you chucked in his direction before entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

He laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the water turn on and the shower door close. He kept waiting to wake up, kept thinking the past hour was some crazy dream or fantasy, but it was real.

You loved him.

For years, he tried to find someone like you. Someone who would love him for him and not just use him. Sure, in the beginning he didn't mind being used. But the past few years he found to be painfully lonely. Especially once Tommy met Maria, that ache in his chest grew every time he saw them together, or every time he heard Tommy on the phone or talk about her with such fondness in his eyes. Selfishly, he always wondered why not me?

Now he had his answer. He was just waiting for you.

He heard you humming in the shower, your voice echoing off the glass walls and he smiled. He imagined you in there cleaning yourself up, your perfect body all soapy and wet and he felt his cock twitch.

"Shit," he muttered, lifting the thin sheet to see himself begin to swell once again. Would it always be like this? Would he always have an insatiable appetite for you?

A minute later and he was almost fully hard once more. He palmed it over the sheet and he looked longingly at the closed bathroom door. What was taking so long?

Then a smirk spread across his face and he jumped up from the bed, cock bobbing at attention between his legs as he walked to the bathroom and quietly opened the door.

The mirror was fogged up and so were the glass shower walls. He could hardly see you through all the steam, but he heard you. He heard the water cascading off your body and your fingers running through your wet hair.

Carefully, he opened the door and was pleased to find your back was to him as you rinsed out the last of your conditioner. When he wrapped his arms around your waist, you jumped and screamed a little before collapsing into a fit of laughter and turning around in his arms. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. All the makeup was down the drain but you looked more radiant than ever.

He leaned forward for a wet kiss, his hands sliding down to cup and squeeze your ass before pulling on your hips, tugging you closer so you could feel how hard he was for you.

"Need you," he murmured, but he meant more than just the obvious. He didn't want to be without you now that he had you, not even for a second.

"Already?" you breathed, but he just nodded, his lips dragging down your neck, your skin smelling like roses and vanilla.

"Too much?" he asked, mouth trailing slowly over your shoulder. Your nipples were pressed against his chest and his cock nearly hurt from how hard he was.

"No," you whispered, letting your eyes slide shut as you curled your arms around his neck. "Never too much."

Without hesitation, he crouched and grabbed the backs of your thighs, hauling you off the ground so he could press your back against the glass. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gasped when the tip of his cock nudged at your opening, the width surprising you, even still.

You let out a loud moan when he pressed forward, sinking himself back into your sore, aching heat, right where he belonged. One of his hands supported your ass and the other was flat against the glass next to your head, his fingers leaving wet smudges as he rocked his hips into you, swallowing down every whine and moan that tumbled from your mouth. That perfect fucking mouth he dreamed about for the past year. And now it was all his.

"God, Joel, yes... right there," you cried out, cunt already pulsing and gripping him so tight that he had half a mind not to pull out that time.

"Yeah?" he groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he nipped at your chin, watching as your head rolled listlessly against the foggy glass while he drove into you over and over. "There?"

"Yeah," you practically whined, hand shooting up to grab his hair, fingers slipping through his wet curls. "No one's ever... I can't... you're so-" you rambled half formed thoughts as your heart hammered in your chest, your orgasm steadily climbing, unable to tell him what you wanted to tell him.

"No one's what, baby?" he growled, thrusting himself impossibly deeper inside your cunt. "No one's ever fucked you this good? Huh?"

"No," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip.

"What else? No one's ever made you come this much? Tell me, I wanna hear it," he groaned in your ear, his hot breath melting with the steam from the shower.

You shook your head then nodded, as if you didn't know how to answer. And you couldn't. Not when he was fucking you like it would be the last time.

"No one's ever - oh, fuck," you gasped, swallowing a mouthful of air, "no one's ever m-made me feel so good. I've never w-wanted anyone the way I want you." You squeezed your eyes shut but he quickly bit your jaw, forcing them back open.

"Keep your eyes on me."

You nodded, jaw half open as you did as you were told. His brows were furrowed deep, eyes wild and skin flushed as he pounded into you, forcing you over the edge for the third time in less than two hours.

"I got you," he murmured when your body sagged from the effort. He wrapped both arms around you now and fucked up into you recklessly, chasing his own high as quickly as possible so he could take you back to bed and rest.

Even though the voice inside his head was screaming at him to come inside you, he miraculously pulled out, spilling himself all over the shower wall between your legs.

"You okay?" he asked breathlessly, setting you down but still holding onto your shoulders. You nodded and slumped against his chest, legs visibly shaking. He chuckled and reached for the shower knob, turning the water off before walking you towards the door. Swinging it open, he reached out blindly for a towel. Finding one, he wrapped it around your shoulders, swaddling you and keeping you warm while he reached for another.

He messily knotted it around his waist and led you to bed. You didn't even bother to put any pajamas on or remove the towel, you just buried yourself under the covers with a contented sigh.

Joel was about to turn back to the bathroom and clean up a bit before you spoke.

"Come to bed."

His heart clenched in his chest and he smiled as he rounded the bed and slid under the sheets to join you, unable to resist.

Quickly, you scooted over to him, tossing a leg over his stomach and an arm over his chest and buried your face against his neck. He held you close, breathing in deep before you whispered, "I love you, Joel."

"I love you, too," he spoke into your hair, his chest ready to burst with happiness as you both fell into a deep sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, you smiled before you even opened your eyes. Joel's natural scent combined with the floral shampoo you used that the hotel had left out filled your nostrils. You breathed in deep and buried your face further into his warm, bare chest. He stretched underneath you, muscles pulling under his tanned skin, his fingers digging into your shoulders as he flexed.

"Morning," you whispered groggily, eyes still closed. You felt his arms wrap around you as he rolled onto his side, tugging you against him.

"Mornin'."

It can always be like this now, you thought. Waking up next to each other whenever you wanted. No sneaking around, no more hiding how you felt. It was perfect.

Until Joel's phone rang shrilly on his nightstand. He groaned and, keeping one arm securely around you, reached behind him to grab it.

"Hello?" he answered, voice thick and rough with sleep. Your body responded instantly, your core softening at his voice like it was a command, but what came with it was also a tight hint of soreness from the night before.

You could hear Tommy's voice through the phone, but you couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Nah, I'm hungover as shit, gonna order somethin'," Joel said.

You thought he had been joking the night before about getting your body used to him again, but you began to realize he was probably being serious the more you squirmed around and felt the stiffness in your muscles and hips.

"Yeah, alright. If I don't see ya later, I'll catch ya at the bar tomorrow."

He tapped his screen and tossed his phone haphazardly behind him with a smirk. "C'mere," he murmured, pressing his swollen lips against yours, his hand drifting to cup your face.

Christ, you were sore but you still wanted him so badly.

You flicked your tongue against the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss the second he dropped his jaw. Right when you were about to curl your leg around his hip and roll over to straddle him, your own phone began to vibrate loudly against your nightstand.

You both froze, lips still seared together, then slowly opened your eyes.

"Hold on," you grumbled, rolling over so your back was to Joel, then picked up your phone.

"It's Maria."

"Answer it," he said, inching closer. He pulled you back against his chest, cock hard and pressing between your bodies as you begrudgingly answered the phone.

"Hey! Have a fun night?" you asked cheerily. Your eyes snapped up to see movement in the full length mirror across from the bed. It was narrow, but you could see from your stomach down. Joel was pushing the sheets off himself and you watched as his hand drifted in front of you, tugging the sheet away from your chest, exposing yourself to the cool air. When he palmed one of your breasts from behind, you had to bite back a moan so Maria wouldn't hear.

"So much fun! I hardly got any sleep," she was saying, but you could barely hear her when his fingers slid down to pinch your nipple. You turned your face upwards to gasp softly, hoping it didn't get picked up by the receiver.

"Yeah?" you asked, hoping that would be enough to encourage her, and it was.

Maria kept babbling about things that happened the night before, things you missed after you and Joel snuck away. She was telling you something about a groomsman who attempted to do a split in the middle of the dance floor and ended up ripping his pants when you saw Joel lift your leg in the mirror, hooking it around his inner elbow and spreading your hips wide. Embarrassment flushed your face when you saw your pussy in the mirror, already glistening with arousal.

Then his cock slipped between your legs, nudging at your folds, his smooth tip coating itself in your slick before he pushed forward, parting your swollen cunt. The pain was brief, yet intense, but you were entirely distracted with the way it looked in the mirror. How fucking big he was and how you opened up and stretched so beautifully for him.

"Did the phone cut out?"

"Huh?" you squeaked, eyes transfixed on your reflection, hips rocking steadily in rhythm with his. You felt him chuckle behind you, his arm pulling your leg up even more so you could see everything.

"I asked if you wanted to join us for breakfast? The rest of the bridal party is meeting at the restaurant downstairs in twenty minutes."

Fuck, he felt so good. Combined with the visual, it was almost too much.

"Uh, I'm gonna pass. I already ate, I'm pretty full," you told her, eyes briefly fluttering shut when he began to move faster, his skin lightly slapping against your ass. You thought you heard him mumble yeah, you are, and you had to bite down hard on your lower lip.

"Well, okay. If you change your mind, we'll be down there at ten."

"Okay, thanks! I better go, my mom's beeping in. I'll call you later," you said hurriedly, hoping you weren't being too rude but if you stayed on the phone with her for one more minute, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide what you were really doing.

Mercifully, she hung up and you tossed your phone onto the floor, uncaring where it ended up, and reached behind you to curl your fingers around the back of Joel's head. He leaned forward and kissed you. It was messy and heated, and the way you had to twist your neck was awkward, but it didn't matter.

"Fuck yeah, baby. Look how good you take me," he groaned in your ear when he spotted you glancing towards the mirror again. "So pretty, ain't it?"

"Mhmm," you whined, still entranced by the way his thick cock split you open and you knew for sure in that moment no one else would ever come close to Joel. You were stupid to try to fight it.

Your hand dropped to clutch your pillow, your stomach drawing tighter the faster he snapped his hips, every devastating thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you whimpered, and he readjusted his grip on your leg, prying you open as wide as you would go.

You felt his teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hot and quick as his exhale puffed against your skin.

"That's right. Come all over my cock, baby. Give it t'me," he growled, hips slamming into you from behind so forcefully it almost pushed you off the bed, each thrust driving him deeper and deeper inside you.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you cried out when you came, your walls pulsing around his length, your body trying to suck him in and keep him there and fuck if he didn't want that, too.

At the last second he pulled out, watching in a daze as he dropped your leg, his cock now sandwiched between your thighs. With a deep groan, he watched in the mirror as he shot thick, white ropes of his seed all over your legs and the hotel sheets.

"I love you," he gasped, his sweaty forehead pressed against your upper back as he dragged in mouthfuls of air, waiting for his pulse to settle. "'M sorry, can't stop sayin' it."

You reached behind you and found his hand. Lacing your fingers together, you wrapped his arm around your middle, mumbling I love you, too, never tiring of it.

You waited a respectable amount of time for the bridal party to eat and leave the restaurant before venturing downstairs together, hand in hand. You contemplated just ordering room service but you weren't entirely certain you could keep your hands off each other long enough to eat, so forcing yourselves to leave the room felt like the best option.

The hostess led you to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, the room still buzzing with activity even though it was late in the morning. Your fingers linked together across the table as you sipped your coffees, exchanging little smirks whenever your eyes met.

"Can I ask you a question?" Joel asked, and you almost found yourself laughing at how serious he suddenly looked.

"Of course."

He glanced around the dining room quickly before leaning across the table. "You ain't on birth control anymore?"

You knocked the heel of your hand against your forehead. "I'm sorry, I should've told - no, I'm not. I took myself off the pill because I wasn't... y'know," you trailed off, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Joel couldn't stop his smirk when he put it together so he pursed his lips and tilted his face toward the table, trying to hide it before saying, "so you're tellin' me you didn't have sex with anyone else since me?"

"Don't act so proud," you teased with a grin.

"I ain't," he said defensively, then thought about it for a moment before laughing. "Okay, maybe I am."

You giggled as you watched him take a sip of coffee, daydreaming about your future together and all the endless breakfasts you'll share. You imagined getting up early for work and showering, then coming into the kitchen to find Joel in just his pajama bottoms pouring you both coffees with unkept hair, asking if you saved him enough hot water because he still had to get ready for work.

Work. Suddenly, your smile fell when you remembered something. "Wait, you said you quit your job?" you asked, and he nodded, his thumb rubbing against the inside of your wrist. "So what do you do now?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "You ain't gonna believe it."

"Try me," you teased, knees bumping together under the table. You were close but still felt so far apart.

"I bought the bar," he said, sounding almost sheepish. Your eyes widened in surprise.

"Our bar? Tommy's bar?" you questioned, and he nodded. "H-how?"

He chuckled again and raked his fingers through his hair with his free hand. "What'dya mean how? With money."

"Yeah, I figured that," you said with a roll of your eyes, "but you just bought a house, too. How can you afford all that?"

He opened his mouth to reply when the server came to drop off your food. You finally unlinked your hands so you could pick up your silverware, and only once your waitress left did he respond to your question.

"Porn paid good," he said with a shrug. "I did it for a long time and I lived with my brother payin' next to nothin' in rent and utilities."

"Wow," you breathed in awe before shoveling some eggs in your mouth.

He watched you eat quietly for a few minutes before clearing his throat, drawing your attention from your breakfast.

"Why didn't you just ask me to quit? I woulda done it."

You paused your chewing and set your fork down on your plate.

"Because," you began, swallowing your food. "I couldn't ask you to do that for me. It wouldn't feel right and I was afraid if I did, you would grow to resent me."

His brows furrowed and he reached a hand across the table for you. "I woulda never resented you."

"You don't know that," you told him.

"I wasn't happy doin' it. Not like I used to be, anyway," he said. "Kept me from havin' certain things in my life. Could never make a relationship work and as I got older, it was somethin' I really wanted. I just didn't know how to get out. I mean, who can put somethin' like that on a resume?" he laughed softly. "Then Tommy mentioned his boss was lookin' to retire and I thought, hell... won't have to put shit on a resume if I'm my own boss."

You nodded and squeezed his hand, feeling guilty for never realizing he had his own internal struggles going on. Then you swallowed nervously before asking your next question, your curiosity unable to be ignored.

"Well, what about Sadie?" you asked, "she seemed really into you and she obviously wouldn't have had a problem with your career."

He gave you a small smile, eyes flashing with guilt when he thought back to his brief date with Sadie. The night he invited her over for board games and he ended up going down on you in the bathroom while she was left to talk to strangers in the living room.

"She was nice but there wasn't anythin' there. Not really. I was jealous of Sam and knew she liked me... I shouldn't've asked her over that night. It was wrong," he admitted, rubbing his chin. "She never stood a chance. She wasn't you, baby," he said softly.

You felt your chest clench from the tortured look in his eye, and for the millionth time you mentally berated yourself for spending so much time avoiding your feelings for him. Choosing not to deny yourself any longer, you stood up from your chair and closed the short distance between you. Cupping his face with both your hands, you leaned down and kissed him, trying your very best to put every ounce of love you had into it. It must have worked because you could feel his lips curving into a smile, then yours did the same.

It didn't matter how long it took, what mattered was what you had now.

Unfortunately, your bliss was short lived when you heard an all too familiar voice shriek excitedly behind you. You tore yourself away to swivel around in surprise, only to find Tommy and Maria standing a few tables away with their jaws hung open in shock, very clearly having witnessed your kiss.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, tugging on Tommy's arm to drag him over to your table. "I knew something was up when neither of you wanted to join us for food!"

Cheeks blazing hot with embarrassment, you were about to return to your chair but Joel's arm wrapped around you, pulling you to sit sideways in his lap. "No more hidin', yeah?" he murmured in your ear. You grinned and gave him one more quick peck.

"Yeah," you agreed right before they approached. "No more hiding."

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[merakiui]

i see the dilf milf-vision, but now how will i ever pick between stepfather dilf!azul or stepmother milf!vil, i wanna be in a fucked up situationship with them both

Being stepfather Azul's precious doll. <3 he encourages you to live at home with him instead of moving out and looking for work elsewhere. Why do that when he can provide for you? Do you really want to leave him all alone in this big, cold home? >_< so you stay, and he dresses you up in all manner of finery. You're brought to business events and parties and other social gatherings. It's for formality's sake. Your stepfather would rather spend these evenings inside with you, watching movies or playing games. Alas, he must keep up a good reputation.

You're the cutest eye candy in your expensive outfit. Some of Azul's friends and associates mistake you for his trophy spouse, and to your surprise your stepfather smiles and nods along with their assumptions. All while his arm is snaked around your waist, his hand at your hip to keep you glued to his side. Even if you were to steal away somewhere, one of the Leech twins would track you down and bring you back to a very unhappy Azul. Hasn't your stepfather told you not to wander off at these events?

Maybe he'll just have to give you a better reason to remain with him... he knows you can't hold your alcohol, and so he makes sure you won't drink yourself silly. But sometimes he passes another glass into your hands when he knows you can't handle it, if only to get you tipsy enough so that you'll fuck yourself stupid on his cock when the both of you are in the limousine on the way home. <3

Stepmother Vil who has the mentality of "mommy knows best," and so you've always listened to her advice because she could never be wrong. She gives me "wine mom" vibes............ like Azul, she also makes sure her precious darling always looks the best and most beautiful. She spoils you so lavishly; you'll get all of the best outfits and designer brands as well as the best skincare products. Some may think she's a bit obsessive in her control of you, but you disagree. Your stepmother does all of this out of love!

She's truly wonderful. :) everyone, both rich celebrities and fans alike, is impressed that she has such an upstanding stepchild. You've been built in her image. If anyone asks, you always smile and say that you're happy your stepmother is so helpful and always has such good advice to share when it comes to being, feeling, and looking your best. What they don't know is that in order to get to where you are today, obedient and sweet for her, your stepmother taught you (and your body) how to respond to her and only her.

It's because she knows best that you allow her to stretch you open on her fingers or strap. It's because she knows best that you've become a great kisser thanks to countless nights of practice with her. It's because she knows best that you'll never know love outside of her embrace. Vil has high standards. She won't allow her beloved stepchild to fall in love with and marry just anyone. Besides, one of her many priorities when it comes to you is ensuring you're always happy. No one but her could make you feel as content as she does, which is precisely why she's all you need for physical and emotional comfort. For everything.

[rsanchezslut]

Bless us with all those sweet Rick x reader headcanons you hold

!! thank you sm for asking !! i'm not sure how many i have in such a broad sense, but here are some HCs i usually apply when thinking abt a relationship w/ rick!!

xXx

-i always imagine you meet Rick through Beth somehow. In my head, it's usually though an exercise class of sorts (Zumba, bc my first R+M hyperfixation was when I was doing dance twice a week LOL), but I also really like the neighbors approach too (typical) because i think it's fun to think she starts inviting you over to have wine nights with her and you become really good friends!!

-I also love HCing Morty bonding with you too!! Seeing the way you make his mom happy and pique Rick's interest in just the right way makes him literally. Want. to befriend you. He thinks you're cool and also genuinely NICE ASF which lowkey pisses Rick off for a bit but makes him all the more inclined to like, actually talk to you (bc he's jealous you won over Morty so easily<3)

-Rick definitely goes (a little) out of his way to impress you (eventually). not... overboard, because he's still Rick and his literal brand is not caring ofc, but... i do think he enjoys it, per se, esp season 5+ Rick who's a lot more considerate... when you seem interested in what he's doing and actually want to talk about it. Part of him is def still skeptical, but... it grows on him the closer you get emotionally ...

-Rick is surprisingly appreciative of acts of service!! Esp. things like cooking him food / doing laundry, and even more so if who you're helping is Beth, Morty or Summer!! I always think about you dropping off food for the family if Beth is working late, or helping summer w/ her homework... and i for sure see it as something Rick... notices and pays attention to.

-I LOVE RICK'S LITTLE COT in his room. it is so silly to me that he sleeps on that in HIS fucking DAY CLOTHES. So I think he gets all weird abt spending the night at your place. Maybe weird is the wrong word, but like. usually he's down to fuck and then just go home (or spend the night but not care abt the emotional significance of it and skip your morning together) and it's like. Lmaoooooo.

which I think for a while you're kinda cool w/ because... idk. It's not that serious? but the first time you actually have a real sleepover in your own space (and not an alien motel or his car) is genuinely so. intimate. and signifies and big change

-omf there was only one bed fic WHEN???? sharing a room fic WHEN?????

-but FUCKING IN HIS CAR HAS DEFINITELY HAPPENED absolutely. the way he had a little curtain when he was w/ daphne ... you have def used that curtain. and literally slept back there too.

-he has more dad/caring traits than he realizes. Sick? Sleep it off. Need a nap? Here's a bed. Always has everything you need on hand and is willing to give it to you <3

-he thinks it's hot when you fight with him and doesn't take you serious half of the time because of it

-when he doesn't smell like alcohol and oil he actually smells. so fucking good. Naturally sweet and kinda musky but in such a comforting sense!! u always know if he's been around somewhere in the house bc the scent lingers (or maybe youre just sensitive to him, who knows)

-one day we need to talk about his horrible possessive-ness streak when you actually manage to get close to him. Always talking abt how he doesn't care but really he's a HORRIBLE liar. coping mechanisms are 0/10 (tell me why he's surprised to find out you need to cope too LMFAO)

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 14

A/N: I told y'all this one would be coming quickly. I can't let my babies be unhappy for too long. ICYMI: this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. We pick up in 2023/1973 in a rather tense moment.

Much love always to @ccab for loving me and loving what I write. You's mah best frend.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, alcohol use, cussing, a car accident, injury, hospital, and then the good stuff, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, I think that's everything.

Word count: ~3.4K

You sit on the couch staring at each other waiting for his answer.

******

You sit in silence for a few minutes before you can't stand it anymore.

"Elvis? Did you move on?"

"I don't know."

You feel like someone stabbed you in the heart and you struggle to breathe.

"I need... something... I just... I'll be right back." You get up, grab your purse, and stumble to the door of the suite. The kids will be safe with him and your mom.

"Y/n, wait!" You hear him as you close the door quickly behind you. When you get to the lobby, there's nowhere for you to go. Instead, you head to the bar and order a glass of wine. You try to sip it slowly, but it doesn't last long, so you order another.

Back in the suite, your mom comes into the living room to find Elvis on the couch with his head in his hands.

"John?" She says it gently, trying not to startle him. He sniffs and wipes his eyes and looks up at her.

"Oh, Cynthia, I'm sorry. Did we bother you?"

"Not at all. She left, didn't she?" He nods. She sits next to him on the couch. "Do you know where she went?"

"I have an idea."

"Then why are you still sitting here?" He looks over at her suddenly.

"I really don't know." He stands up and heads towards the door. He turns back when he reaches it. "You'll-"

"I got the kids. Go."

"Thank you." He walks out the door and makes his way to the lobby.

He was right about where you would be. You're still at the bar nursing your third glass of wine. He walks up next to you and pulls out the chair.

"Anybody sitting here?" You smile a little before responding.

"No, but my husband is the jealous type." Then you look down at your drink. "Or, at least, he used to be."

"He still is." He sits next to you at the bar and you scoff. "Hey. Don't be like that."

"Like what? Like my husband doesn't love me anymore?" You drain your glass and gesture to the bartender that you want another. He can't help but be reminded of the party you went to together in 2010 and it breaks his heart.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say that." He sighs deeply.

"Honey, can we just try to be happy? For the kids?" The bartender brings you your glass of wine and you turn and look at him.

"Why don't we just make a portal and send you home to Linda?"

"How do you...? Right. No, I want to spend more time with the kids."

"That's fair. I'll be nice. Then we'll get you back to your girlfriend."

"Y/n..."

"No, you know what. Don't." You take your ring off of your finger and set it on the bar in front of him. "Here. Give her that."

You drain your glass and stand up, but you've just pounded a whole bottle of wine in less than an hour, so you stumble a little and he catches you. He grabs your ring off the bar and then steadies you as you try to walk. You pull away from him and try to stand on your own.

"I'm fine. I don't need you to save me. I do things by myself all the time. Who needs a husband?"

"Y/n, you're drunk. Please let me help you." Without warning, you start to cry. He lifts you into his arms like a baby and flashes back to all the other times he's carried you like this before: when you were sad and drunk in college, when you and he finally made it home in the snowstorm, and when he carried you across the threshold of your Vegas honeymoon suite. How did you get here from there?

You cry against his chest as he takes you back up to the room. Inside the suite, your mom has gone to bed. He takes you to the room you're intended to share and settles you in the bed, removing your shoes gently. When he goes to leave and sleep on the couch, you grab his hand.

"Stay with me. Please." He's not sure if you mean tonight or forever.

"Oh, honey, I-"

"Please."

"Okay." He takes his shoes off and lays down on the other side of you. His heart feels like it's in a vice and it takes him a long time to go to sleep, even with you snoring quietly beside him.

******

The next morning, you wake up tucked up under his chin with his arm around you, just like the first night you stayed together. But this time, when you wake up, you pull away and get out of the bed. You hear the kids in the living area with your mom, so you make your way in there to them. Your mom brings you a glass of water and you sit down on the couch. John Jessie immediately asks about his dad, so you send both kids in there to wake him up. The laughter that spills from the room when they do makes you want to cry all over again.

"I'm taking the kids today." You turn to your mom.

"What? No. He's here to see them. We should let them be together."

"There's plenty of time for that tomorrow. You two need a day."

"No, mom, we really don't."

"Yes. I'd give anything for another day with your dad. I'm not letting you throw this away. Not without trying. I'm taking the kids."

And she does. She takes them to the beach and promises to be gone until dinner time. You and Elvis just stare at each other in silence.

"Do you need fried potatoes?" He knows you and how you deal with a hangover.

"Yeah, I really do."

"Come on." You head downstairs together to your rental car in silence. He agrees to drive, as always, and you head to a breakfast place you've found on your phone. As you ride, he pulls your ring out of his pocket.

"Put this back on your finger." You hear the edge to his voice and it irritates you. What does he have to be angry about?

"And if I say no?"

"Y/n, I'm not asking."

"Why the fuck would I put that back on?"

"Because you're my goddamn wife!"

"Am I?! Because you don't seem to want me to be!" He turns and looks at you and you can feel the rage rolling off of him.

"PUT THE FUCKING RING ON YOUR FINGER."

"FUCK YOU ELVIS."

"FUCK ME? FUCK ME?! I-"

He doesn't get anything else out though because he's taken his eyes off the road and completely misses the red light. The other car collides with yours on your side and you skid across the intersection as the sickening crunch of metal on metal rings through you both. Time seems to slow down as you're thrown around inside the vehicle. Everything goes black.

******

When Elvis comes to, someone else has called 911 and the emergency personnel move around quickly, hollering to each other as they work.

"Sir? He's regained consciousness." He's strapped to a gurney and they're loading him into an ambulance. When he realizes what's happened, he immediately tries to sit up.

"My wife-"

"They're extracting her from the car. They'll meet us at the hospital." He tries to get off the gurney.

"No. I'm not leaving her. Extract her? Is she okay?"

"Sir, calm down-"

"Calm down?! WHERE IS MY WIFE?!" They close the doors to the ambulance and give him an injection of something to calm him down. He drifts off into a kind of twilight sleep again.

The next time he wakes up, he's in the hospital. He sits up suddenly and goes to get out of the bed. The nurses rush in to settle him, but he won't be settled. He yells at anyone who will listen that he needs to find you.

Finally, the doctor comes in as he's trying to rip his IV out.

"Mr. Burrows, you have to stop. We will take you to your wife, but you need to calm down first." He sits down on the edge of the bed breathing heavily.

"Where is she?"

"She's been admitted."

"Admitted? No. That means-"

"They're running some tests right now, but she still hasn't woken up."

"No. No no no." He collapses on his knees beside the bed and weeps. The doctor is deeply affected, but helps him back onto the bed. He has the nurses remove Elvis's IV and monitors and helps him get dressed.

"Let's go see her." Elvis nods weakly and the doctor leads him to your room.

When he sees you in the bed, he falls to his knees again and rocks back and forth crying. The doctor helps him into the chair next to your bed. Elvis holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

"God, honey, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please wake up." You don't, not yet, but he wills you to open your eyes.

The doctor has seen a lot of trauma and a lot of broken husbands. But something about the way Elvis weeps hits him differently. He leaves you alone together.

"Please, honey." Elvis kisses your hand over and over, begging you to wake up. "I can't do this without you. God, I love you so much. Please don't leave me."

You lay in the bed not moving with the monitors beeping quietly. And he sits beside you, praying desperately to God that you wake up soon.

******

Elvis calls your mom to check on the kids and let her know what's happened. She's dying to come to you, but she knows someone has to watch the kids and he's in no position to do it. Besides, there's no way he'd ever leave you.

The doctor eventually comes back with the results of your tests. You have a very small brain bleed that they're hoping will resolve itself soon. They're not exactly sure why you haven't woken up yet. Elvis assumes it's his fault and spends the hours while you sleep beating himself up for hurting you, both physically and emotionally. There's not a single doubt in his mind anymore that he loves you and wants to be married to you. Almost losing you is killing him and he wants nothing more than to take you in his arms and love you the way he always has. He stays by your side through the rest of the day, not even leaving to eat, and settles in for a night watch.

Finally, around 3:30am, you stir a little. He sits up and watches you carefully. Your eyes flutter open and he's overwhelmed with emotion.

"Elvis?" You whisper quietly.

"Oh God, y/n, I-"

"Shhh... it's okay."

"No it's not, honey. It's not okay at all. I'm so sorry. For everything."

"This wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was, but I mean even more than that." He kisses the back of your hand again. "I love you so much, baby. I love you with all of me and I can't believe I ever thought I could be without you."

He moves a piece of your hair off of your face and runs his fingertips down the side of your cheek.

"You still love me?" You ask quietly, voice quavering.

"God, honey, yes. You are the love of my life." You smile, your eyes watery, and nod gently. He climbs into the bed next to you and holds you close to him.

"I'm yours, y/n. Forever."

******

They release you from the hospital a couple of days later with instructions to rest for three weeks before you fly home. You obviously can't afford to stay in the hotel for three weeks, so you find some small bungalows on the beach and rent one for you and Elvis and one for your mom and the kids. The doctor said you need to rest, so he recommends the kids stay with your mom, especially in the beginning.

Elvis is the perfect caretaker. He keeps you fed and hydrated and entertained and makes you sleep and rest to heal.

At the end of the first week, you find yourselves on the couch together. He's watching a movie on tv and you're scrolling on your phone. You roll over a sexy edit of Elvis on Instagram and accidentally turn the sound on. The song is dirty and it gets his attention before you can mute it.

"Honey, what are you watching?"

"Nothing!" You answer quickly, really hoping he doesn't press the issue. But he can tell you're hiding something and the curiosity gets the better of him.

"What is it? Just show me." You get a strange look on your face and now he's determined to see what you were looking at.

"No!" You giggle and he crawls toward you on the couch. "No! No!"

You try to push him away with your feet and he moves them out of the way to crawl between them and up your body to reach for your phone. He's on top of you now, trying to grab your phone. You move it around over your head and try to use your other hand to keep him from getting it. In the process of moving your phone out of his reach, you turn the sound up and accidentally click on the edit again. The song plays and when you bring your phone back down to turn it off, he snatches it and looks at the screen, still in his position between your legs.

It's a sexy edit of him shirtless and wet in the movie Fun in Acapulco. You bury your face in your hands and blush a deep red. He watches it and then looks at you surprised. Then, he busts out laughing and looks back at the phone.

"Is this what you're into, honey? I guess I should be glad it's me."

"Oh my goddddddd." You want to melt into the couch.

"Mike Windgren, though? That movie is terrible. Honey, what is this?"

"It's a TikTok." You answer from behind your hands.

"Are they all videos of Mike?" You pop your face up and laugh.

"Oh, no! They have them for all of your movie characters. And just for, like, you..."

"I wanna see."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do! Show me!" You reluctantly open TikTok and go to your saved videos. You hand him your phone and cover your face again. He scrolls through them and laughs. A few of them make him blush, though. He stumbles upon one of him from the Aloha concert and is amazed. You realize what's happening and try to wrestle the phone back away from him. He holds you at arms length and laughs while you play fight your way up him. Eventually, he stands up and holds the phone behind his back. You stand up and face him.

"Honey, you know, you don't have to watch those. I'm right here. You could just turn on some sexy music and look at me."

"Oh, shut up!" You say, blushing. But then you look up at him. And he looks down at you, energy gathering in the space between your bodies. He puts his hand on the side of your face and runs his thumb over your lips. You can tell he wants to kiss you, but it's been so long that he's not sure if he can. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. He might look older than the first time, but his kiss is the same and you melt into him like butter.

You walk backwards to your bedroom, shedding clothing as you go, mouths still smashed together. When you get to the bed, you're both naked, but before he lays you down, he steps back and looks at you. He reaches a hand out to caress your breast and run his thumb over your nipple.

"God, y/n, you're such a beautiful woman."

"I figured I was getting too old for you."

"Never."

"I wasn't even sure you wanted me anymore. Not like this."

"Honey, I will always want you." With that, he lays you down on the bed gently and begins to explore your body with his mouth. You've done it so many times, but something about this feels new and sacred. He kisses every part of you and the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin makes you drip with need.

He finally makes his way to your center and presses a kiss to you between your legs. Then, he begins to move his tongue on you just how he knows you like it. He could be with a thousand women and still remember your body and the way you taste and feel. This is everything you've both been missing and he licks you like his life depends on it. The overwhelming sensation of pleasure courses through you as he moves his tongue over and around your sensitive bud. He slides a finger into you and feels how your body reacts. Suddenly, everything else melts away and there's only you and him and the love he's making to you. You feel the coil of your orgasm tightening and know you won't last much longer. He can tell you're close too and he ramps up the movements of his tongue. Finally, the dam breaks and your release rushes through you in wave after wave of ecstasy. He tongues you through the high and when you come back down he pulls away sighing.

"I love the way you feel when you come, baby."

"Mmmm... now it's your turn." You respond breathlessly. He climbs up your body and lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

"I've waited so long to make love to you, y/n." He pushes into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock. A soft moan escapes your lips and he groans. "The sounds you make... mmmm baby, you make me crazy."

He starts to slide in and out of you in a gentle rhythm, hitting all the best places inside you, kissing your neck sensually. He moves gracefully on top of you and you want to cry it feels so good.

"I've missed you so much, baby." He sets his head on your shoulder as he fucks you in the gentlest way you've experienced since the night he proposed. This feels like a kind of renewal of your vows and he moans into your mouth as he kisses you deeply.

He starts to thrust a little faster, but never changes the gentle pattern of sliding in and out of you. Your walls begin to flutter around him and he groans, knowing that the end is coming for both of you. He fills you fully with each movement as his speed increases.

"Fuck, Elvis, it's so good."

"It is, baby, it really is." He rolls you over on your side and positions your leg over his hip. The gentle thrusting doesn't change, but the intimacy seems to increase as he looks into your eyes and peppers you with kisses. His cock slides in and out rhythmically and he grunts with the nearness of his climax. He whispers between kisses as he pushes in and out.

"I love you, y/n. This is a new beginning for us. And I'm making a promise to you. I will never question us ever again. You are the one who my soul loves. We are everything."

He thrusts gently a few more times as he holds your hip and moves ever closer to his release. The tears that slide down your cheeks are happy ones and you press your forehead to his and he whispers again.

"I belong to you and you alone, y/n." He kisses you passionately and pushes into you one more time.

"God, yes, Elvis!" You cry out as you tumble together into the sea of your orgasm, the waves crashing over you in a tender expression of your love. He holds you there shuddering and pumping weakly until he comes back down to earth. You lay there looking at each other, basking in the rediscovery of your love.

"I will love you until the end of time. And if you're ever gone again, I will wait for you." You put your hand on his cheek and kiss the end of his nose, unable to speak, but the vulnerable gesture says everything you'd say with words.

You lay there together for a long time, just taking each other in and reveling in the shared pleasure of the experience.

A portal appears and you don't even acknowledge it. You're both too wrapped in the web of each other to notice anything beyond the boundaries of your intertwined bodies.

******

Until next time...

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

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @noirrose21-blog @tacozebra051 @deltafalax

[miguelswifey04]

Hii! Omg I’m imagining reader getting drunk and Miguel taking care of her after 🤭

yes yes & yes!! i should be asleep and getting sleep for my driver’s exam but here i am, writing 😭

miguel o’hara x fem! reader

it had been a long and challenging day for both you and miguel, and you decided to unwind with a few glasses of wine. but as the evening progressed, the drinks proved stronger than expected, and you found yourself a little tipsy.

miguel, always attentive to your needs, noticed your gradually loosening inhibitions. concerned yet amused, he decided to take on the role of caretaker, ensuring your safety and well-being.

as the night wore on, your laughter filled the room. you stumbled, giggling, and miguel swiftly came to your side, steadying your unsteady steps. he guided you to the couch, making sure you were comfortable and safe.

sitting beside you, miguel gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes filled with affectionate amusement. "you’ve had quite a night, haven't you?" he chuckled softly.

your cheeks flushed, an adorable mix of embarrassment and drunken silliness. you leaned into miguel’s touch, savoring the warmth of his presence. "i think i may have had a bit too much, miguel. but i’m glad you're here to take care of me," you slurred, your words filled with gratitude and affection.

miguel couldn't help but smile at your adorable state. he fetched a glass of water and placed it in your hands, urging you to drink and rehydrate. "take small sips, cariño. it’ll help ease the effects of the alcohol," he advised gently.

with miguel by your side, you slowly regained control over your senses. his supportive words and soothing presence alleviated any concerns or discomfort you had been feeling. he knew exactly how to take care of you, bringing you comfort and reassurance in your vulnerable state.

as the night grew late, miguel helped you get ready for bed, guiding you through the necessary steps with a tenderness that only deepened your love for him. he ensured you were tucked in snugly, safely cocooned in the warmth of your shared love.

kissing your forehead, miguel whispered soothing words, his voice a balm to your alcohol-laden mind. "rest now, my love. tomorrow is a new day, and i’ll be right here when you wake. i’ll always be here to take care of you."

with a soft sigh and a smile, you drifted off to sleep, your worries and the effects of the alcohol fading away under miguel’s watchful care.

the next morning, you awoke to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of miguel’s soft humming. he had prepared a nourishing breakfast, knowing you might need a little extra care after your night of indulgence.

as you joined him in the kitchen, a mixture of gratitude and affection filled your heart. the memories of the previous night were a testament to the unwavering love and support you shared.

tags 🏷️!! @obi-mom-kenobi @meeom @sabcandoit @emiemiemiii @kairiscorner

[winternightswren]

Of Lattes And Lab Rats: Chapter 7- Tension

(See here for masterlist and warnings. This story is 18+!!!!)

"You can't be serious," Jayce spat incredulously. You shrug. "Oh my god, you are. I can't believe you've never read The Many Adventures of Teemo The Bandle Scout. You're missing out, dude."

From over the stove, stirring a pot of pasta and chopped vegetables, you laugh heartily. "I guess I must be, if you love it that much. I'd check it out at the library, but uh...that's a kid's book isn't it?" You tease him over your shoulder.

"Hah-hah," he mocks. "My mom read it to me every night when I was younger. So-"

"Ah, a mama's boy, are you?"

"So, yes, I very much like that book," he says, ignoring your playful jab, "but it doesn't read like a kid's book. It doesn't talk down to the reader the way a lot of other children's books do. That's what makes it so good."

You chuckle again, a little tipsy, and shut off the stove. "Alright, alright. I'll give it a shot." Wood clanks against glass as you plate your food, and you cover up the pot haphazardly- your hands tremble slightly from the wine you've already had two glasses of since you got home. You hand Jayce a his plate, and he thanks you. "Wanna go sit on the couch? You might have more room to stretch out."

"Yes please," he replies enthusiastically. You noticed how cramped he looked sitting at your table earlier that morning, so you're not surprised at his answer. He waits patiently for you as you refill your glass of wine- you offer him some more as well, and he accepts. "That's your third glass, isn't it? Better pace yourself, there." You roll your eyes with fake exasperation.

"Let me liiive" you whine. "Go on, you're blocking the doorway with your giant fucking shoulders." You shoo him away, your wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of your glass as you do. He chuckles, and you don't miss the way his face flushes at your comment.

As Jayce settles in on your comically large sofa, you shove aside the books and papers littering your coffee table, muttering to yourself about how you "really need to clean this damn house." Jayce grabs one of the papers as you do so, examining it. You resist the urge to snatch it away from him before he can look; you don't want to be rude, however embarrassed you might be. He props himself up on his elbow, resting his head on his fist as he smiles. His eyes flicker from the parchment, to you, then back again.

"Is this a self portrait?" He asks. You scoff. If he has to ask, it must not be very accurate.

"No," you tease, "I drew that when your mom invited me over last night." He snorts, sets the paper down, and turns to his food.

"Are you gonna sit down, or what?" He asks.

"Yeah, yeah. Give me a second, I'm gonna start the fire." It wasn't cold by any means; the warm summer air was flowing in from the window you opened earlier. But, your apartment was outdated, and hadn't been fixed with the latest electricity powered lights. The only light in the room was from the lanterns hanging in the hallway, and the candelabra on the bookshelf.

With the fire now lit, the room became significantly less spooky, and more cozy. You close the crystalline hearth-cover hinged on either side of the bricks, which helps bounce more light around the room, and take a deep breath. Finally, you flop down next to Jayce. Once again, he's snarfing down your food like he hasn't eaten in days.

"That is so good," he says.

I bet it doesn't taste as good as you do, you think to yourself. You almost want to say it, and you bite your lip, afraid you might actually do it. His eyes flicker down to your lips for a fraction of a second, then back up to your eyes. You look away, stifling a smile. You're way too drunk right now. You don't know if it's arousal, shame, alcohol, or all three, but you feel heat under the collar of your shirt- which you wish he would take off for you. Ughhh.

"I'm glad you liked it," you finally say. You look around the room for something, anything, dear Janna, please, anything else to talk about, before you grabbed this man by the collar and fucked him senseless.

"Um...wanna play a game?"

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

You don't actually know. You don't own any board games, or even a deck of cards. This was a stupid idea.

"Let's play a drinking game," you finally come up with. You snag the other bottle of wine from the coffee table and uncork it, finding yourself glad to have bought two. "You ever played 'put a finger down' before?"

"I have, but it's been a long time. What are the rules again?" You think he's serious, but the glint in his eyes tells you he's teasing you.

Right. It's in the name. "Whatever," you scoff.

You top off both your glasses and lean back, sinking into the overly plush cushions. You both hold up a hand.

"Put a finger down if..." you worry at your lip some more, thinking. "...if you've ever been stung by a bee." Neither one of you moves. "Alright that one was kind of lame. Your turn, Mister Talis."

"Put a finger down if...you've ever tried drugs." You quirk a brow at him, and he shrugs. You sip your wine and put a finger down without breaking eye contact, and he looks surprised. "Really?" He says incredulously, "I was mostly kidding. I didn't think you were the type."

"Ah, it was a long time ago. A friend from school brought in some sort of psychedelic he got during a trip to Shurima." You suck in sharply through your teeth at the memory. "Trust me. I won't be touching that shit again. Okay, let's see...um, put a finger down if you've ever had a bad one night stand." He puts a finger down and takes a sip.

"Yeah, I've had my fair share."

"Wow. Jayce Talis the playuhh." You waggle your eyebrows at him, and he guffaws. "Okay, I need to know. What was the worst one?"

"Well, there was only one really bad one. Listen, I don't kink shame-" he raises his hands, trying to look innocent- "But this one guy really wanted to piss on me. Like, mark his territory, or whatever."

You find yourself absolutely cackling as he speaks, tears forming in your eyes.

"Are you serious??"

"Oh, absolutely. And listen, I'll try anything once- but that was a little intense for just a one night stand. The guy bought me one drink and thought he could claim me. No thank you."

"Oh my god," you choke out, "that's insane. So what did you do about it?"

Jayce shrugs.

"Told him I wasn't interested, and sent him home. He practically threw a tantrum as he was leaving, talking about how I 'didn't know what I was missing.' I don't know, I don't think I was missing much." He takes another sip of his wine and puts his hand back up. "Alright, my turn, right?"

You shake your head 'yes', putting your own hand back up.

"Put a finger down if you've ever kissed a scientist."

You cough, choking on your own spit. "Wh-Jayce!"

His eyes are full of mirth, and you want to sip your wine to have something to avoid his gaze with, but that would be admitting to something you've never done. He puts a finger down.

'Okay first," you point at him accusingly, "you're playing dirty. Second, you're not supposed to incriminate yourself like that. You just docked yourself a point, and now I'm ahead."

He licks his lips, and your heart leaps into your throat. "We could change that, you know. Bring you down to my level." He's giving you those half lidded eyes again, and you want to grab him by the collar- take the bastard down a peg, make him submit to you, but you're secretly reveling in the sexual tension. Not yet. You shove him playfully, trying to hide your face.

"You tease. Anyway, who'd you kiss? Viktor?" He guffaws again, face turning red to match yours.

"Believe me, I've thought about it. But, no." He shrugs indifferently. "No, it was a classmate during my first year at the academy. Several, actually."

You snort.

"You really are a slut, huh?"

He rolls his eyes, and downs the rest of his wine in one gulp. He refills his cup, and you give him a pointed look.

"Now who's drinking too fast?"

You take your chance to sip some more as well, trying to match his pace. You gaze at him over the rim of your glass, admiring his beauty while he's not looking.

The orange light of the fire casts deep, dramatic shadows across his face. His dark hair looks tussled after a long day without a combing-through, and the deep red collared shirt he wore hugged his chest and arms in a way that accentuated his muscles. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, putting his strong forearms on full display. You find yourself staring at his jaw, not for the first time today. It's strong, sharp, and flecked with stubble. You wish you could plant yourself in the space where his massive shoulder meets his neck, licking and sucking and-

"I do believe it's your turn," he says gently.

You snap your eyes back to his, realizing that you weren't just staring, but practically drooling. You closed your mouth, which you didn't notice had dropped open, and tried to catch your breath. You were almost panting like a dog. Get it together, sis.

He's looking at you expectantly, hunger written on his face. You swallow. You decide maybe it wouldn't be so bad to scoot just a little bit closer to him- and you do, but not much. There's still quite a large gap between the two of you.

Jayce brings his elbow up to rest on the back of the couch, resting his forehead in his hand. You're not sure you can take much more of this; not with the way he's looking at you like you're is next meal.

"My turn," you repeat. "Put a finger down....if...you...." You flounder, the thought of his hands on you turning your brain to scrambled eggs; you laugh, awkwardly. "Um, I don't know. You can go again, I can't think of anything."

"Alright, then. Put a finger down if you find me attractive." He rakes you up and down with his eyes, and you feel the hairs on your arms stand on end. Now he's really playing dirty. Your jaw clenches, swallowing again. You decide to play dirtier, refusing to put a finger down despite the obvious. His brows raise in mock surprise.

"No?" He tilts his head, "not even a little?"

You cross your arms, feigning indignance. "Nope" you say, popping the 'p' for emphasis. 

"I see."

He  sets his wine glass on the coffee table.

"That must be very embarrassing for you," you tease. "It was quite presumptuous of you to assume so, don't you think?" You can't stop the lust from seeping into your voice anymore, too busy enjoying this cat and mouse game.

"I'm not so sure."

He's crawling towards you now, on all fours, and you back away as he does; he's positively intimidating in a way you don't dislike.

"So you weren't giving me bedroom eyes all day? I saw the way you were looking at me at the gelato shop. I know you want me." His eyes flicker down to your lips just as your back bumps against the arm of your couch. You've got nowhere else to go; he's cornered you.

"No. I think you were imagining things." You try to stand your ground, but your voice is shaking and you're out of breath. You feel your face burn with shame; and a generous amount of arousal. Jayce chuckles, low, and quiet, still bringing his face ever closer to your own.

"I'm pretty sure it was you imagining things." He puts a hand on your thigh, sliding it up your skirt, "not just at the gelato shop," you shiver, "but at the park, too. And the market..." he rubs his thumb on your soft, supple skin; dangerously close to your underwear. The heat you've endured between your legs all day grows, leaving you slicker and slicker by the second. "...during our game," he tilts his head again. He's so close now, you can see tiny freckles on his cheeks and a miniscule scar in his right eyebrow. You hold your breath, desperately trying to hold your composure. His massive shoulders loom over you, blocking the rest of the room from view entirely, and his nose brushes yours. You  can't focus your eyes, and you almost want to let them flutter shut- but you don't.

"Last chance. If you can't admit it, I might have to make you." The heat of his breath on your face smells like wine, and you find it so intoxicating it's like you're actually drinking it.

"Never." Your voice is barely above a whisper.

"So be it."

His lips finally come crashing into yours, and he shoves his knee against your crotch. You moan into his mouth, frantically wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls you up to him, balancing you on his knee, and he fights with the ties on your dress. You nibble on his jaw as he does, peppering kisses across his delicate skin like you've been daydreaming about all fucking day. You grind down on his leg, trying to get more friction; you gasp, whimper, whine into his neck. He finally gives up on your dress and lays you back down.

"Don't tell me the great Jayce Talis was bested by a string," You tease.

He presses his face into your neck, biting hard. A mewling cry escapes from your throat, and he's sliding his hand up your thigh again.

"Mmfh too impatient," he breathes, "I need to hear you make more of those noises for me."

He rubs your clit through your underwear, and it feels so good it makes your eyes water.

"Hah...my god, you're already so wet for me."

You dig your fingernails into the fabric of his shirt, finally letting your eyes shut as you revel in his warmth. You slide your hands down his back, down his ribcage. Your fingers tug his shirt out of the waist of his slacks- and he sits up.

Your eyes snap open once more, and you suddenly feel cold without his body against you. You shiver, reaching for him, but he backs away even more.

"Oh, I'm sorry; you don't want me in your personal space. Please, forgive me." He's smirking down at you, patronizing you. His hand doesn't leave the soft wet spot between your legs, but he doesn't move.

"J...Jayce, please-" you squirm, trying to pull him down again, make him come back to you, anything; but he's too far out of reach. you can do little more than brush your fingertips against the silky fabric of his pants.

"Please what?" His tone is low, dangerous. "Use your words, please." 

He slides his finger up and down the soaking wet fabric, gently, slowly. You gasp, unable to breathe. Your chest heaves, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Please, please, Jayce. I need you."

"Need me to what?"

"I need you to hurry up and fuck me already." You really can't take it anymore. He's barely touched you and already your weeping cunt begs for release. It won't take much to send you over the edge.

He rewards you by kissing you again, slipping his hand under the waistband, and sliding a finger into you. You gasp into his mouth, raking at his back with your hands. He slides another finger into you, pumping them in and out, rubbing your clit with his thumb the whole time. You feel yourself tipping over the edge, and you want to tell him- but there's no time.

The tension you've held in your core all day finally snaps, and you break away from the kiss to bury your face into his neck as you cum into his hand. He doesn't let up, letting you feel every crashing wave of your orgasm. You almost scream into his shoulder, back arching off the couch, forcing your chest into his.

"That's it, good girl." He holds you close, panting into your ear, and it doesn't take long for you to become overstimulated by his movements. You reach for his wrist, trying to make him stop.

"Jayce, I'm- hahhhh I can't take anymore, stop-" He does. His fingers slide out of you with a wet sschhlk sound, and he sits up on his knees to get a good look at you- and your fluids, dripping down his hand.

He sticks his fingers into his mouth, never breaking eye contact while he tastes you. "Delicious."

You feel like you should be embarrassed; you're sweaty, panting, hair falling out of it's up-do, sticking to your forehead. But you can't find it in you. You feel sleep creeping into the edges of your mind, but you're not done yet. 

You let your eyes wander over Jayce's body, and land on the bulge in his pants. You sit up, gingerly place a hand on Jayce's chest, leaning in- but not kissing him yet.

"Would you like me to return the favor?"

He pecks your lips, wrapping a strong arm around your waist, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand.

"I think that's the wrong question," he says, his voice sultry.

"Then what's the right one?"

"How badly do you want me? And what are you willing to do to get it?"

You move away from him, holding his gaze, to stand. He keeps his hand on you, moving it to your arm, then down to your hand. You kneel in front of him, positioning yourself between his legs; which he happily spreads for you; but his expression shifts to one of dominance.

"Anything."

He leans forward, one elbow dangling off his knee, the other hand gently lifting your chin to his face.

"Anything?" He repeats.

You let go of your own weight, letting his hand support you completely.

"Anything," you whisper.

His expression looks almost indifferent and uncaring as he drops your face, letting you fall. This feels so unlike the kind and gentle man you spent the day with. It makes you all the more eager to please, to gain his approval.

He pulls his shirt off and over his head, displaying his whole torso for you. Your breath hitches, feeling your arousal coming back full force.

"Stand up," he commands. You do as he says, his eyes never leaving you. You feel yourself trembling under his gaze; his eyes are so intense it makes you shiver. "Take your clothes off."

You follow his orders. You untie  your dress, reaching around awkwardly to unzip the back, and let it pool around your ankles. You unbutton your shirt next, undo the ties on the sleeves, and shift your shoulders as you pull it off- letting it join your skirt on the floor. And here you stand in front of him, completely naked, shivering an embarrassing amount.

You suddenly remember the curtains are still wide open- and your living room faces the street. You glance over to see if anyone is looking-

"Look at me. Don't look over there." Your eyes snap back to Jayce, and your heart beats a little faster. You think you might like being told what to do.

He points a finger at the spot in front of him. "Kneel."

You step over the pile of clothes on the floor, and gingerly sink down in front of him. He smirks.

"Look at you. God, you're gorgeous. And so cute, the way you do exactly what you're told."

You heart flutters at his praise, and you shift slightly- your thighs are becoming slick with arousal, and you feel yourself dripping onto the carpet.

Jayce sits forward, close enough now to smell his musk, and he undoes the button on his pants. "Pull them off, sweetheart."

You do as he says, and he lifts his hips off the couch to make things a little easier for you. You slide his slacks off first, pulling them all the way down to his ankles. His boxers are next, and he cups your face gently as you hook your fingers under the elastic. You nuzzle your cheek against his hand as you continue to move, happy to feel his warmth once again.

Finally, after what feels like eons, his erection springs free of the confines of his underwear. It's big. You knew it would be- Jayce is massive. But's not just long- it's so girthy you think it would split you in two if you tried to take him too quickly. Precum drips from the tip, and you lean forward, taking it into your mouth-

"Hey." Jayce grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you back before you can wrap your lips around him. "I didn't tell you that you  could do that." He drops you again, leaving you feeling pathetic. "If you want it, you have to earn it. Beg."

Your eyes flicker between his face and his cock, panting like you've never known a pair of full lungs. "Please, Jayce."

"Please what? I thought I told you to use your words."

"Please- let me worship you." His eyes glitter, and he smirks at you.

"Alright, go ahead. You've been so good for me. You can have a taste." He leans back, leaving you to go to work.

You start at the base, taking his balls in your mouth first. You gently suck on them, moving your hand to the tip of his dick as you do so. Smearing precrum across his foreskin, you extend your tongue, and look up at him with wide doe eyes, moving sloowwlyy up his shaft.

"Nghh...hahhh...sweetheart, you're so good at this."

He groans, spurring you to do more, to take him, worship him, devote yourself to him. You were going to continue to move at this pace, gently licking and kissing, but he grabs your chin once again to move you higher.

He grabs his cock, pointing it at you, smearing the tip on your lips like his precum is your personal brand of lipgloss.

"What are you waiting for?" He spits out, "take it." 

You do as he says, wrapping your lips around him, trying not to scrape with your teeth. You slowly bob your head, caressing him with your tongue, trying to get a feel for his size. But he's too impatient- he puts a hand on the back of your head and forces you down, almost making you gag. He groans, struggling to keep his eyes open to look at you.

"My god, that's so good. You're so good. You take my cock so well."

Your eyes water, tears streaming down your face as he continues to fuck your mouth. You thank your lucky stars you don't have a severe gag reflex. His tip hits the back of your throat, and it's almost too much- you try to move away, but his orgasm stops you in your tracks.

"ugh...ohh fuck-" He shoves your head down one more time, leaning forward, curling around you. You force yourself to swallow his hot cum, but there's so much; you miss some of it, and it drips out of your mouth with the excess saliva you've accumulated. Jayce flops backwards, breathless, and you finally let go of his dick. You try to swallow again- but you choke, cough, and turn away from him.

"I....I'm sorry," he says, trying to regain his breath. The authoritative tone he was holding gives way to something more gentle. "I think I got carried away. Was I too rough?"

You turn back to him, "No, no." Your voice is hoarse. "I very much enjoyed that." He smiles at you, slack-jawed, eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

"So did I. C'mere, you," he beckons, and you do as he says. You curl up next to him, resting your chin on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you. "You're wonderful," he says, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You close your eyes, feeling your body finally relax as the both of you cuddle together. You listen to his breath begin to slow, and despite your exhaustion, you still ached for more. You still wanted to ride him, feel him fill you up and fuck you until you saw stars- but when you look up at him, his eyes were closed, and his gentle breathing told you he'd fallen asleep.

Another time, then, you bemoaned. You stood to douse the flireplace, and draw the curtains, praying nobody saw- or heard- what the two of you had gotten up to.

"Hey," you spoke softly, "Jayce."

"Mm?" He stirred, but just barely.

"Cmon, let's go to the bedroom. You can sleep here, tonight."

He takes a long and deep breath, looking up at you through his eyelashes. He smiles languidly at you, and lets you lead him to your bed. The two of you crawl under the covers, and he opens up his arms for you. You oblige him, scooching close, pressing your face into his chest. You listen to the sound of his heartbeat in your ear and close your eyes, letting sleep overtake you at last.

[septicwriters]

What I think your favorite ego says about you!

Dark: You are one of two things: you are cool, calm, and collective or, batshit wild. Regardless of which, when you snap, YOU SNAP. Whoever pissed you off better pray to the old gods because the new one ain't picking up his phone. You either seem like you have your shit together, or you really do. There is no in-between.

Anti: Relax? Who is she? Who are eccentric from the start. You are quiet at first, making people think you are shy and just have to warm up to them, when in reality, you are biding your time. Watching your surroundings to see how everyone ticks, and then you strike. Violence is not always your attack, you can also deal out verbal attacks as well. Your RBF is on point.

Wilford: You are that person who is cheerful to hide your trauma. Sorry, but we can still see it. You can't hide a body behind a glass wall. You will smile and give homemade treats and remember everyone's birthday, but everyone once in a while, you will say something to cause everyone's concern to go to an 11. High ADHD levels.

Jackie: You are that one person that is motivated beyond belief. You will wear yourself out with over positivity and helping others and then break down in a public restroom. Crying from stress is a call for attention, even in an empty room (false, cry if you need too) can't drink coffee because it sends your hyperness through the roof and gives you a headache.

Damien: You are the mom friend of the group, you either have snack pouches and juice, or a way to reprimand your friends. You are shy around confrontation, but always quick to come up with a solution to a problem. You wouldn't share homework answered, but would help with the homework. You are the designated driver.

Chase: things you cry at: cat videos, cute kid videos, slice of life anime, cute finales of comedies. You have some sort of an addiction. Coffee, alcohol, cleanliness, art, your hobby, collecting hobbies. Something to keep your hand busy is always needed, helps tame the voices. Your therapist friend begs you to go to therapy, but who can afford it? Definitely not you, and besides, you aren't even that serious. Thinking about death is normal, right? Right?!

Celine: you are the wine aunt. Weather that is literal or towards your friends, that is your title and you where it with pride. Might be some sort of witch. You can become serious quickly, you go from go lucky to problem solver 1-100 real fast. You are always available, even if you're not happy about it. You listen to problems and come up with half good answers. Sorry to say, but arson is not always the answer.

Schneep: you are the therapist friend, and you need a therapist. Carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Must have perfect grades, perfect attendance, perfect ingernal. Coffee is not breakfast, nor is it good to drink at 3 in the afternoon. Eat some real food, please, granola bars are not going to get you through the day.

Actor: in some way, shape, or form, you are a profectionist. People may get upset about the way things must line up, if your drink is one inch higher than expected, everything is ruined. Everything must be perfect, or it's terrible. You either love art, or an artist yourself who hates your art. When someone tells you you are a profectionist, you lash out in anger. Take a nap, might do you good.

JJ: silent but deadly. Words are very rarely exchanged with those outside your friend group. When someone asks you what you are reading, you lift up your book to show the title and continue to read. You made your own lunches at school. If someone crosses you, you will be passive aggressive about it. Dresses formal for every occasion.

Google: you have anger issues, eldest sibling , reliable one? When someone needs advice, you are the first to go to. You regularly go to those warehouses to destroy things. You don't work well with others, prefer to work alone than In a group. Effortlessly get A's on tests.

Marvin: you are either gay, or the gayest straight person. If there's no glitter, you don't want it. You're temper is fiery, but your significant other wouldn't have you any other way. You have enemies, and your friends are worried about that. You have either mental or physical scars and are self conscious about them. Your scars tell your story, don't be embarrassed. You live in the library and write papers that aren't necessary.

Bing: your favorite Ninja turtle was Mikey. Love Bill and Ted. The life of the party, always trying to be the cool guy. You fail at it, but you don't let that slow you down. You once tried to do something reckless, failed, and said that you'll practice until you do it. You succeed. You do anything you put your mind to. Useless facts, no, no one knew that otters hold hands while sleeping to not drift away, but thank you for sharing. Orange crush is your favorite drink.

Tell me how accurate I am!

[novelcain]

Y'all got me thinking so hard abt mafia wukong I'm dropping. Some things I've thought of in the last like five minutes for your viewing pleasure LOL feel free to ignore me or delete this I am running off like two hours of sleep

-Wukong probably holds an annual sort of, dinner for those serving directly under him. It's probably a night for information to be passed around, big terf reports to be given, that kind of thing. Only the ones that answer directly to him are invited, the ones directly under him in the hierarchy, so probably like, the DBK family if they're involved, Macaque, his inner circle, so to speak. I imagine it's held in a restaurant on their terf, or that they have control over, so it's only them being served that night.

- At these dinners everyone has a set seat. The seat to Wukong's left is always for MK and the seat to his right is always for Reader. Bad things happen if you mess with those seats!

- And gods help you when Wukong has a little too much wine to drink! He's handsy when he's stone cold sober, he's even worse when he's tipsy and/or drunk. I imagine him placing Reader in his lap at some point in the night, running his hands over every bit of them he can, leaning his cheek against their shoulder. Everyone has kind of learned to keep their mouths shut, but eventually someone is gonna have something they need to say and he's not even going to look away from Reader, carrying a conversation with his underling all while keeping his attention on Reader

- Oohhh when dinner is over and work is out of the way, it's relaxing time, everyone gets to mingle and enjoy music and drinks and to just lounge around in this space that's been procured for the meeting. Wukong makes Reader dance with him! The music is something soft and slow, sensual, and he takes them by the hand and sways to the music.

- Eventually the night comes to a close and everyone disperses. Wukong gets a little TOO handsy w Reader on the way home. Teehee.

Respectfully, anon. I refuse to ignore this as it is some delicious brain food you have given me~ 😌

First, I can't get out of my head how utterly embarrassed MK would be seeing his adoptive dad getting handsy with who he's beginning to see as his mother figure. All the while, his friends Mei and Red Son, the heirs to the Dragon of the West Triad and the Demon Bull Family Triad respectively, are teasing his and making fun of him for it. Tho Red Son shuts up about it later when his mom and dad start getting a little too drunk to keep their hands to themselves too.

I also think that with specific seating arrangements he has a special table that he likes more than all the others. I like to imagine that the business that they go to is Pigsy's Place. A restaurant that Wukong has been going to for at least a century and has been laundering money through since he helped Pigsy go from a noodle shop that he stumbled into one night at 3am while he was drunk to a full blown 5 star comfort food restaurant that's constantly booked.

Now to what you're all here for~

You've know this monkey for a while now and you know that once he starts to drink it's inevitable that he goes from his usual casual passing touches to practically dry humping you in front of everyone

Ffs the man has his hand up your dress!

You get so flustered and try to feed him food and water to help him sober up but he just keeps getting his hands on more alcohol and somehow even gets you to drink a bit as well

You two definitely end up getting frisky in the limo ride back

Mk saw that coming after jumping out the window the last time because his dad got so drunk that he forgot his son was still in the damn car and went home in Macaque's car, which Mk is driving because Macaque is past out in the passenger's seat after having a drinking contest with DBK. The winner of which was unclear.

[lilithsterrarium]

It's always a little overwhelming for a mother when her daughter begins to date and you being an inch tall doesn't change that. But she seemed happy and the guy seemed nice enough. And, again, you were only an inch tall, so if you tried to stand up for yourself and insist that your daughter stop seeing him, she could just put a glass over you like an unwanted spider and leave you helpless and trapped. So there's really nothing you can do to stop her.

But then, a few months later, your daughter barges in, make-up streamed down her face, a mostly empty bottle of wine in her hand. She hiccups and sobs and wipes her nose on the back of her hand as she staggers over to you. Each one of her uneven steps feels like an earthquake, making it impossible for you to run away. Soon, she's on top of you, looking down at her tiny mother. Her breath reeks of alcohol, strong enough that it makes you feel a little dizzy.

"He broke up with me! He fucking broke up with me! Piece of absolute shit." She leans back and finishes off the bottle, slamming it down next to you. The sound is almost deafening. "Fucker didn't want kids. Said that he was worried that being a shrunken bug would run on the family. Can you fucking believe that." She belches directly over you, the warm air nearly suffocating you. "It's all your fucking fault. I tried to explain to him that you're just a little freak of nature, but he wouldn't listen. He just said he couldn't do it and fucking left!" She screams and you rush to cover your ears, your entire body vibrating. Slowly, she rises up, a mountain looming over you.

"But you're going to fix this."

Before you can ask how, she rises up onto her feet, undoing her skirt and letting it fall to her ankles, her panties following soon after. "You're enough of a tranny dyke weirdo to impregnate your own daughter, aren't you? Maybe he's right. Maybe it does run in the family. Because I'm desperate enough for a baby to let my own mother, my bug of a mother, cum inside me."

She leans back, letting her ask crash to the ground, spreading her legs open. Her slit, needy and wet, is taller than you are. The air whirls around you as she scoops you up on her finger and forces you against her pussy. Her juices coat you completely. Her moans sound distant but the vibrations move through her body and into you. "God, you're so fucked up! Getting hard over your own daughter's cunt! I can barely feel you down there, shit. Maybe I should stick you to the end of one of my dildos, some of them ten times longer than you are tall, so you can actually reach deep enough to make me pregnant." Her whole body spasms, her thighs coming together to trap you, as she drags you up and rubs you and your tiny cock against her clit. "Fuuuuuck, I need you to cum in me, Mom. Make me a mommy, too!

-🤖

FHFJFJCMFBN KVKCVKCJSF GGGOSH....

Sure, I was hesitant- but seeing her loom over me... its not like I could really say no... seeing the two of them happy was enough for me, happily watching and reminiscing on better times... sure, her new lover would give me weird looks, but I'm sure it was nothing...

Of course, seeing my daughter blubber on and on immediately helps those pieces click into place. Blushing, I try to comfort her- barely felt as I try to tell her that its okay, that theres plenty of fish in the sea... I bite my tongue at the fact she's drunk and wants kids, thats another conversation...

Flash forward and I'm squirming and trying to insist I'm okay against her crotch as she shoves me deeper, slurring words together as she toys with herself,,,,, as much as I hate it, my little cock is hard~

Here's to hoping she snaps out of it soon 😵‍💫

[earthry]

First of all, I wanted to say how much I love your writing! Every time I see that you posted something its easily one of the highlights of my day!

If I may, could I maybe ask how would the Papas handle someone who suffers from chronic pain, especially back pain? If you dont want to answer thats ofc fine too!! Thank you :)

Thank you so much!! I'm very happy to hear I can brighten someone's day with my work <3

Here you go, please enjoy!

sfw, hurt/comfort, fluff, disclaimer: writing with my own experience with chronic pain, other's experiences may be different.

Primo

This old man knows exactly how it feels to have aches and pains-- though your afflictions are not the same, he does understand. The two of you help each other on your bad days, it's very sweet. If it's a rough day for you, he will help you with anything you have trouble with using your mobility. If your back pain makes it hard to be up, he'll bring everything to you. Vice versa when he's having a bad day, you'll be the one to assist him (and if it's so bad that he can't tend to the garden that day, you'll go do it for him for his peace of mind).

If you're both having a bad day? It's a day in bed and you take your medication together with fancy little wine glasses (filled with water only-- don't mix meds with alcohol). He'll break out your matching heating pads and put your favorite show on the TV in your bedroom. Primo calls one of his brothers to make sure the garden is tended to for the day.

If you have wrist pain and have trouble opening things, well probably don't ask Primo because peepaw's strength ain't too much better. Both of you go begging to Secondo to open your jars and if it's a cheat day and you're using canned pasta sauce (which Primo only accepts when making it from scratch is too much for the two of you), you'll go to one of the ghouls to open it instead least Secondo bites your heads off.

TLDR your entire relationship is built on love and understanding and helping each other when the occasion arises. You never judge each other for what you can do one day and can't do the next. Support, encouragement, and communication are very important to the two of you.

Secondo

Secondo is a menace with his credit card. He will buy you everything and anything that could and can help your chronic pain. He's not the best at emotional comfort but he tries to support you and care for you in the ways he knows how to. And that includes buying you countless muscle rubs, heating pads and cushions, bath soaks and soaps, massage guns, braces and wraps, so many rolls of athletic tape, and anything else that may help.

Of course it's way more than you need but he will insist that he is stocking you up just in case you need it someday. You almost feel like one of those coupon moms that buy things in bulk.

Very good with his hands and an expert at kneading the tension from your body. Even if your chronic pain doesn't flair every day, he'll make it a routine to give you a massage every night before bed.

Speaking of routines, he'll run you a hot bath every night (unless you're not feeling like it) and add epsom salt plus the essential oils he got from Primo that are supposed to help your muscles relax. He'll make sure you get a good soak in and slowly wash your hair for you, lathering expensive shampoo in your hair and massaging your scalp.

Once you're all clean and ready for bed, he'll give you your massage while you doze in bed. If you have a cream that helps relieve muscle pain or something similar, he'll often use that while he rubs your back or anywhere needed. You're often fast asleep by the time he's done and he'll give you a good night forehead kiss before sliding into bed to join you.

Terzo

My favorite HC for Terzo is that his love language is acts of service. Physically showing you that he loves you, cares about you. It ties into the fact that these are all things he wishes someone would love him enough to do too (and you do).

He knows cooking is strenuous for you on bad pain days; that's why he's always willing to drop everything to make you a decent meal. He'll bring it to you no matter where you are, and even on days that you might be able to cook he'll want to do it for you anyways. He pulls out his most beloved recipes for you and makes your favorites.

Sometimes you'll sit in the kitchen with a heated blanket and some pillows that Terzo has brought in to help you be comfier, just to keep him company. As long as your pain is bearable enough to move to the kitchen, you try to be there just as much as he does for you. You can see from the expression on his face the first time you drag your achey body from your room to the kitchen that he's starstruck. It means a lot to him when you take the time to be there with him. Of course, he fusses over you to make sure you're not in pain and not pushing yourself by moving all the way there. He will smother you in love and care.

He may be very talented with his fingers (wink wink) but this man has no idea how to give a good massage; in fact he's often too afraid that he will hurt you by pushing or pressing on you too hard. But he does his best! He watches some youtube tutorials and looks up how-to's online. Be patient with him and he will slowly become an expert at it. He's very proud of himself the first time you absolutely melt under his hands, the pain easing just a little. Of course it won't fix everything but in the moment it feels so nice.

Copia

He's very worried at first; he doesn't know about the chronic pain and at the beginning he's worried that something is very very wrong and tries to urge you to see a doctor (or two or three because your man is a worryrat).

You soothe him and reassure him that nothing serious is wrong-- whatever issue you have that is causing your chronic pain is either already taken care of or being addressed. There's nothing you can do about it right now.

Does anything he can to help alleviate your pain. Helps massage your back or wrist or where ever you may need it. He'll buy heating pads for you and those cute little stuffed animals that have a pouch for a heating pack (or that you microwave to heat up).

Gets sad sometimes especially when he's done everything he can and the only thing he can't do is directly take the pain way (by the unholy lord does he wish he could though).

Sometimes you catch him looking distraught when you're laying in bed or having trouble with something and you call him over to reassure him that you're okay. Sure you're hurting, but you don't want your loved ones around you to hurt too, not when they don't need to.

He loves you so much, does anything he can to help. Sometimes you're afraid of asking for too much or that he'll get tired of taking care of you but he never does and he will remind you every day that he loves you and loves taking care of you because he wants you happy and safe. There is no such thing as asking for too much for him.

[spookymultimedia]

Oneshot to go along with it below

Word count: 727

CW: withdrawal, addiction, self harm, underage drinking [they're 13]

Stan was seated on the back porch of Henrietta's house and looked down at his trembling hands. He was going cold turkey for Kyle but ever since he cut off drinking he felt sick. He got headaches, he felt worse, he wanted to die. He needed some alcohol just to get the edge off and feel better. He didn't want to upset Kyle but it was so hard to quit. He turned at the sound of the sliding door. It was Henrietta standing there with a bottle in her hand. He couldn't help but perk up and the thought of her having alcohol.

She sat next to him and sipped the bottle of white wine.

He looked at her wide eyed.

“My Mom already drank half of it. I'm not addicted or anything. Not yet anyway.” She laughed at herself. She held out the bottle and offered it to Stan.

He took the bottle immediately and gulped it. It wasn't as strong as whisky but it was better than nothing. He drank it like it was water. He started to breathe better once the alcohol buzz settled into his alcohol-dependent body. Tears filled his eyes.

“kyle's gonna fucking kill me.”

“Why?”

“He hates that I drink.”

“He knows you have an addiction right?”

“Yeah of course.”

“He sounds like a total dick.”

“He just cares about me.”

“If he actually gave a fuck he would care about you going through withdrawal.”

He hiccupped and wiped his eyes.

“You're not the only kid with addictions you know, you're not alone.” She raised her arm and showed her scars from cutting herself.

Stan glanced at her.

“How do your friends feel about it?”

“They understand. They were scared at first but then they bought me cleaner shit to use and proper bandages so my scars won't get infected.”

Stan furrowed his eyebrows, “but, isn't that just encouraging it?”

“No, they're just creating a safer way for me to cut. It's harm reduction. It's not always possible to just drop out of an addiction immediately so might as well do it safer rather than privately with a dirty pencil sharpener.”

“I guess that's a good point.” He took another sip if wine.

“My friends aren't like yours. I can't always talk about everything with them.”

“Hmm.”

“Henrietta?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you cut because you're fat?”

“What!? No!! Why would you say that!?”

Stan flinched, “I donno, I'm sorry.”

“I don't have a fucking problem with my body, society just hates fat people!! I think I look fucking awesome but people see me and assume the fucking worst! It pisses me off!!”

Henrietta took a deep breath and clenched her fists.

“No it's because I just- I get so sad that I feel like nothing. And I just can't seem to wake up from it without cutting myself. It makes me feel alive. I'd rather hurt than sit in the dark abyss of nothingness in my soul. It's so boring doing nothing and feeling like shit. I need to fucking express how I feel or I'm gonna scream.”

“Yeah, I get it. I- I got pressured into drinking because I just needed an escape somehow and that's what they suggested to me and-” he hiccupped “I didn't mean to.”

Henrietta placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I know you didn't.”

“It's kinda fucked up but it’s beautiful I think. Sometimes I take pictures of my wrists because I think it's pretty. With the blood and all. That's fucked up isn't?”

“A little yeah. I can't remember the last time I didn't feel like shit. It's been nearly a year. I don't know when it's gonna stop.”

Henrietta nodded.

“It's weird. I start to feel okay again for a while, I feel really really good, or just get pissy again but I'm passionate and I'm not numb. But then it just comes back full force and I go back to feeling nothing. It drives me insane. I think I'm going insane. These emotions are normal. At least I don't enjoy them. Even when I do feel passionate, it's too much and I can't sleep. Like, at all.”

“Wow.”

“It's a lot. Point is, you're sick and you need to just embrace that and treat yourself more kindly. And if Kyle gets pissy about it I'll punch him in the nuts.”

Stan smiled.

“Okay.”

[jelzorz]

138.

Callum learns about romance from watching his parents.

They're pretty gross, actually, but it's a nice kind of gross. Callum likes the way his mom smiles when his step-dad kisses her cheek, and Mom always looks so pleased with herself when Harrow rolls his eyes at whatever stupid meme she's tagged him in this time. (Seriously. They're adults.)

They love each other, obviously, and Harrow's a bit old fashioned in some ways, but Callum learns about how to romance someone from watching them. It's in the dumb jokes, and the words of affirmation, and the unwavering, unflinching support no matter how stupid Mom thinks Harrow's latest decision is. It's in the playful food fights, and the way Harrow pulls Mom's chair out for her even if they're just having dinner at home, and in the way they laugh together, even about the bad things, so of course, that's how Callum treats Rayla.

It's a pretty good partnership. Rayla never expects any big romantic gestures, and hanging out together is more than enough, but Callum can't help it. There are certain things he wants to be special: their first date, the way he asks her to the spring dance, the dinner they have when Rayla wins gold at a gymnastics meet, and, of course, the night that they decide to... go all the way.

It's convenient because his mom and dad and Ezran will be away that weekend, and Callum and Rayla have been together for a couple of years now that, y'know, it just feels right. What doesn't feel right is the way Harrow knocks on his bedroom door just before they leave looking a little uneasy, a little perturbed, but determined all the same.

"Do you mind if we talk?"

Callum blinks. "Uh. Sure," he says, stepping aside to let his stepfather into his room. He and Mom have never been particularly strict about keeping his room clean, but he still piles all of the stuff on his desk into a little stack of paper away from the bed where Harrow takes a seat. Callum plonks into his desk chair and waits.

Harrow takes a breath. "Look, son," he begins. His voice sounds a little strangled. "Your mother and I... we trust you. You're smart. You're a gentleman. We're very proud of the young man you've become. I just want... to talk about this weekend."

Callum almost laughs. "Dad, it'll be fine. It's not like you've never gone away before."

"That's true," says Harrow. "But... you didn't have a girlfriend the last time we left you alone for the weekend."

There's a pause. Callum blinks again before the implication hits him. He stiffens. He flushes. He looks away. "I--uh--Dad, nothing--uhm--I wasn't--"

Harrow shakes his head. "You don't have to explain yourself," he says. "You're growing up. You'll get there one day or another, and I--we--your mother and I--we just want you to be safe."

"Dad, seriously, we weren't--"

"Weren't you?"

Harrow raises an eyebrow at him, and Callum can't find it in himself to lie, even if it makes everything worse. Harrow, to his credit, only chuckles awkwardly and rubs at the back of his neck. "You'll find what you need in the bathroom," he says. "I won't--uh--impose on you any more than that. Just--um. Be safe. Communicate. Make sure you both enjoy it."

"Dad."

"Right. Yes." Harrow coughs and claps his hands together. "All right well. Have a good weekend."

Somehow the well-wishing makes it more mortifying, but Harrow only smiles encouragingly and takes his leave. Callum sits at his desk wondering if he's been put off or if he's just horrified that that conversation happened.

When Rayla comes by that weekend, Callum makes her dinner, and they watch a movie, and he even pops a bottle of non-alcoholic wine that it turns out they both hate. Then things get cosy and heated, and Callum ducks into the bathroom to find the items his stepdad left in the drawer by the sink.

The memory of it almost embarrasses him out of this, but love is in the actions: in the way that Harrow hadn't made fun of him, hadn't drawn it out, hadn't embarrassed him anymore than that conversation had. And as mortifying as it was...

Callum's just glad he's got a dad that cares about him that much.

[itslouisan]

My interpretation on space beth x beth

Disclaimer: yeah I hate the incest and fucking clone part so much, but I do have my own interpretation and point of view to TRY to make it less ehhh weird, but yeah it's just MY views

Okay so we see how problematic Beth is in a way, I mean she's clearly a mom that plays favorites between her children to extremes, neglects Morty a bit, is a bit overbearing and controlling, functional alcoholic, and so on, some of Beth's traits are justifiable in my opinion since y'know, neglect and unfilling life since she's clearly unhappy with her current life situation (romantically and I dare say professionally), though some parts of her just scream narcissism and a sociopath who refuses to seek real help or accept she's wrong. Like when Rick points out in the froopy land ep how fucked up she was, yes he wasn't THERE to see Beth being so fucked up since he isn't HER biological father in a way but a version of him, but clearly as he takes items out of the box we can see Beth was always this way, EVEN WHEN BOTH PARENTS WERE AROUND and even asking items that could be harmful to her own parents, and yeah her Rick was in the fault for enabling in it but it's also on her for asking those items in the first place, but the important part is that even when C-137 proves his point, Beth switches the blame to HIM, refusing any accountability or taking in her faults or even the clear dangerous tendencies she has, a narcissistic trait is exactly that, refusing to accept you're wrong and shifting the blame to another person to avoid actually saying you did something wrong and apologizing putting yourself down the pedestal and the "untouchable" and ego you have, we also have that scene of her choosing Summer over Morty WITH NO HESITATION, the countless scenes of her avoiding any issues AND her buries it with wine, but most important, Prime Beth, the Beth that is the mother of our Morty, saying how she was happy that C-137 but HER OWN SON was gone, which is just... fucked up clearly no version of Beth can SHOW the love to both her kids or family in a healthy way due to her issues, she's basically seeing Morty as an extension of Jerry and her own failures and problems but maybe also of her Rick mistake in abandoning her with THIS, which takes me to the line she has when asking C-137 abt what choice she has and that "she's out of excuses to not be what she is" which leads to the events of the creation of space Beth, so what could space Beth symbolize? I see it as what Beth wanted to be, her ideal self, not tied to anything, but also, someone who is achieving her "true potential and purpose" by saving the galaxy, maybe proving HERSELF and everyone else wrong who thought her carrier and life choice, cause now she's alone, strong, independent, and doing something big enough for her ego, but different from C-137 who put in those shoes felt empty in reality and full of grief for his real family and moved by the need of revenge, Space Beth seems like an absent mom, she talks SO MUCH on how Rick left her, but she would've done the same to her kids, and I dare to say she only comes by BECAUSE OF HERSELF AKA THE OTHER BETH.

So the moment these two meet OBVIOUSLY they'll be attracted to each other, it's a narcissist's dream come true, but also, I like to think Space Beth is something Beth (in earth sense, the family Beth) needed to truly evolve and perhaps, MAYBE change as a person now she can see the other side of this coin, the moment Beth and Space Beth get together is only Beth accepting what she could've have been, what she is, and how she feels about herself, but also AFTER THAT her relation with the family sees to improve slightly, showing that once she came with the amends of the "what ifs" she can start evolving, it's not only about loving a clone of yourself or idealizing the ideal version of yourself, the one you wanted to achieve so bad, it's about that ideal self, maybe, they'd want you as you're as much as you wanted them, maybe what you consider ideal, would've want what you are and have, so they being together is just that

Anyway thanks for listening to my ramble, I don't even know if it made sense jwj

[flowery-laser-blasts]

My headcanon (mini fanfic) for Motor Ed convincing Dr Drakken to pierce their ears as teens: warning mentions of blood and alcohol.

For his 16th birthday, Eddie wanted earrings because all the cool rock stars, punkers, and metal artists had them. He asked his mother for one, but she heavily objected to it.

So after gathering all the supplies. Eddie and Drew locked themselves in Eddie's bedroom and then--

At his birthday party (family only), Eddie took Drew aside and convinced him to help him pierce his own ears. Eddie showed his cousin a sterling silver earring from the piercing shop downtown; he tried going by himself at first, but once he found out that pay was upfront and he couldn't just pierce-'n-dash like he would at diners with his meals, he stole one of the earrings when a new client came in and occupied the shop owner's attention.

Eddie said that he found his mother's sewing kit and told Drew that it would be easy piece-y lemon squeezy:

They just needed some ice cubes and towels.

"Oh and booze!" According to Eddie, "Doesn't matter if it's a liquor or a wine, all booze contains alcohol and alcohol disinfects!"

"I don't think that that's how it goes Eddie--"

"Shuddup, Drew I heard the piercer talk about alcohol!"

Drew thought hard, being the one who actually paid attention in class he pointed out: "What about Vodka? It's the closest we can get to pure alcohol. Unless you want sticky sweet earlobes from the wine..."

"Vodka, huh, mom's got a bottle in the cabinet!

See!? This is why I need you for this! You're like my own- uhhh, what's that dude from that book called again? Ya' know, the one with the monster that is made of body parts?"

"Are you talking about the scientist? Victor Frankenstein from Mary Shelley's 'Frankenstein'?" Drew smirked proudly, Eddie beamed remembering the name again,

"No, no, no, no-- you're like that assistant-dude Igor! 'Specially with that brow man, you're like my own freaky sidekick!"

Drew's newfound pride shattered to the ground and he grumbled as he went off to find the supplies.

A loud scream alerted the mothers of the boys.

They managed to break open the lock and saw a bloody mess.

Drew looked very pale and Eddie was sobbing and holding his bloodied ear while rocking on the ground.

The thing is, both idiots thought it was a good idea to take a few swigs of Ed's mother's most expensive wine as liquid courage before doing this. Then Drew started to get second thoughts:

"Is this really a good idea?"

"Yes, it is! Let's just do it!"

Both of them went back and forth for at least half an hour until they solved their discourse by doing rock paper scissors, in which they sipped more wine in between each take. Drew eventually lost so he would be pierced first. Drew just wouldn't sit still, so in the end -after wasting another twenty minutes- Eddie gave up, it was him after all who wanted the earring.

"Look Drew, just hurry up before our moms notice that we're not at the party!" he said as he rubbed the vodka onto his earlobe with a towel.

"Alright then, here goes nothing..." With a trembling hand, Drew took the leather needle -that unfortunately had a bit of a dull tip because it's been used often- and roughly pushed it through Eddie's earlobe

Eddie muffled his groans in a towel he bit on. Drew took out the needle and blood started coming out.

"Oh shit-- Oh fuck, oh SHIT!!"

"W-What's wrong cou-AAAAAUAA! AAAAAGH!!"

In a panic frenzy, Drew tried forcing the earring into the lobe to plug it up and prevent it from bleeding more. However, the metal rod of the earring was bigger than the needlehole itself, so forcing it through caused the wound to burn and bleed harder, the alcohol didn't help either.

And there they were, two drunken dimwits crying their eyes out as their mothers screamed at them while the neighbor called 911.

Eddie went with his mom to the hospital for a tetanus shot, just in case, and both he and Drew got grounded for up to 2 months.

Eddie tried wearing the earring for a while outside his mother's vision but putting it in and taking it out hurt more than it was worth it. So eventually he stopped wearing it and his lobe grew shut again.

To this day, Motor Ed still has a very faint scar on his lobe.