#and do a good job writing her while this is going on

[a-b-riddle]

check tags for warnings

In the mood to write angst. Imagine you’re the conscientious observer who accidentally sees how your team talks about you behind your back.

Your morals were… complicated. You didn’t believe in killing anyone. Your faith told you that killing someone is wrong and even if it’s to save your life, handling a gun is something that doesn’t sit well with you. You’ve been to gun ranges. Mandatory for your position in the military that you have basic fire arm knowledge. But having something in your hands that could so easily take a life made you uneasy.

You were pescatarian, but tried to limit meat. Cried anytime you saw chickens in those trucks heading toward their demise. You fed stray cats around your house back home. You tried to be kind and cherished life in all most of its forms. The exception being garlic butter shrimp that was too good to give up and anytime of bug resembling a cock roach. And yes, palmetto bugs were still cock roaches.

And wasps.

Fuck wasps.

At the same time, you were pro-choice. Initially, you were pro-choice for other women, but you didn’t think you would have the strength to get an abortion. It wasn’t until you were holding your friend’s hand as she got her D&C that your views on your own body autonomy changed. It didn’t have to be medical to be necessary.

But you still refused to hold a weapon. Which is why even though you were a very talented medic, you were always judged for not carrying any sort of defense while in the field.

But no one on base would dare say anything to you about it. At least not to your face…

You got stuck instructing a training seminar when your phone continued to buzz in your back pocket. But even with the consistent messages, you didn’t falter by showing the newest members how to give basic first aid until health could arrive.

Nearly two hours later, you finally fish your phone out to see what’s going on.

Dozens of text messages in a group chat between you, Captain Price, Johnny, Kyle and Simon. You had gotten close to them over the last few months. You were halfway through your contract and were already dreading leaving knowing they were staying behind until the job is done.

You open it, your phone taking you to the first unread message.

Cpt.: Hows the arm healing up?

Soap: Fine. Hen did a good job of keeping the sutures nice and even. Should barely scar.

Gaz: Wouldn’t have a scar if she just fucking carried.

Soap: You think she honestly would even know what to do with a gun if you gave her one Garrick 😂

Ghost: Still think she’s a liability. Someone who won’t raise arms against an enemy isn’t meant to be on the team.

Cpt: Already tried. Laswell says we need the numbers. As long as she does her job there’s nothing I can do. We can’t be down a medic and it’s either her or nothing.

You shook as you continued reading the conversation.

Liability. Coward. It went on and on about how weak you were. Why couldn’t you just carry a small pistol instead of expecting everyone else to keep you safe.

It then switched to your personality. No one should be that happy. Annoying. A yapper. Couldn’t get a word in most of the time.

On and on they went until you realized they spoke so freely because they didn’t realize you were in this group chat. What did they say when you weren’t around?

You felt like a fool having extending more than just trying to be a civil coworker, but a friend. Taking on tasks that weren’t your responsibility simply to help them.

Getting a floral arrangement delivered for Johnny’s sister after she had given birth. Talking on the phone to the nursing home where Price’s mother resided trying to sort out her insurance. Taking priority Kyle when he was injured after falling out of a plane (both times) over your other patients. And always having the electric kettled going in the morning so Simon could have his tea without waiting too long.

You were helpful. Just because you had one boundary didn’t mean their words held any merit. But still you couldn’t help the deep feeling of just… betrayal? Rejection? You weren’t sure there was a word fitting enough to sum up how utterly stupid you felt.

Maybe they were right. This wasn’t a civilian setting. This wasn’t just life and death for your patients, but for you. You were out in the field with no form of protection except from others.

You weren’t abandoning your morals. You couldn’t. Not when every fiber of your being told you to remain steadfast. There was only one solution.

You didn’t have much to pack. Uniform was issued to you. Your stethoscope and some other tools came out of your own pocket. Your laptop, phone, charges. You packed all your lounging clothes and miraculously everything fit into a military duffle. Which wasn’t actually anything impressive given how big those things are.

You were confident in your decision even if it made you feel like a failure.

As you stood outside the office door you returned back to the group chat. One by one you proceeded to block all of them. You knew when you left the group they would know that the notification would pop up and they either wouldn’t give a shit that you finally knew what the actually thought of you or they tried messaging you to make amends to cover their asses. You weren’t sure which was worse.

Once you had blocked the last one, you left and knocked on the door that you had been idling in front of. A faint ‘come in’ was granted before you walked through.

“Hey, Kate.” You greeted. “Can we talk?”

[serqphites]

been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again

16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass

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do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.

"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?

she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!

she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)

laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.

this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them

i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!

you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)

not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.

abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)

abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.

abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?

even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO

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a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3

[sunahsvt]

—DON'T BELIEVE THE SIGNS

miya atsumu x fem!reader

+ angst (no comfort what y'all expect), lovers to exes

other tags: microcheating, LAZY WRITING, babe/baby nicknames, small cases

wc: 3.7k

note: not proud of this one but i was itching to start and finish this tonight. so :-) not proofread yet again. also if yall read this note pls drop some hq angst series in my ask box plsplspls

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR POST ANYWHERE IN OTHER PLATFORMS

atsumu loves you. he definitely does.

a year into the relationship— and six months of courting— he can say he's contented with you, and he shows it through his words and actions.

there was a time when atsumu drove past the hotel where his ex— who he once thought of was his greatest love— booked their first anniversary to.

you were on the passenger seat, your hand on his where it rests on your lap, fully unaware what was going through his mind. both his hand twitched. you, who didn't let things go unnoticed, giggled at him, brushing your thumbs on the back of his hand.

in his eyes, of course, you're his greatest love.

atsumu walks through the aisle, cart in tow. his eyes saw a chocolate bar he hasn't seen in a while— the exact chocolate bar that his ex had given him for valentine's one time.

he shook his head, asking to himself why he was still reminded of her.

he didn't think much of it the first and second time, but as time went by and more things reminded him of his past lover, he was almost convinced the universe was giving him signs that maybe he hasn't really moved on— that maybe you two weren't really meant for forever. he was almost convinced.

and because he wasn't fully convinced, he didn't do anything about it, but you were beginning to notice something was off.

"baby, did you get my chocolates?"

"yeah, it should still be inside one of the paper bags."

you jumped off of your seat, eyes tired from looking at your laptop screen due to your work from home job.

you croached down to look for the 3 musketeers chocolate you dearly love, but there was only maltesers and twix bars. you frowned.

"i don't see any muskeeters in here, babe," you whined.

his eyes furrowed, "huh? i bought maltesers. aren't those your fave?"

you shook your head, your lips forming a thin line.

atsumu's eyes widen slightly in realization, you almost didn't catch it.

the silence passed for a minute, both of you staring at each other. you weren't sure if you should confirm it, but in your mind, he didn't need to.

he mistakened her favorite chocolate as your's.

he apologized, but that doesn't mean it didn't get worse. that doesn't mean signs about his ex didn't stop showing up, and that doesn't mean it didn't gradually made him uncomfortable.

y/n: can you take out paella for dinner? cant cook tonight :-(

tsumtsum: ocake

y/n: ty! i love you!

tsumtsum: i love u

when atsumu got home that night, he had bought paella for take out good for two. being a considerate boyfriend, he made sure it wasn't seafood since you're apparently allergic to shellfish.

but when you padded your feet to the dinning room and saw the chicken and chorizo paella, your eyebrows knit together. you weren't a pick eater but seafood, especially shrimp, was your absolute favorite. you were looking forward to having seafood for dinner.

but why isn't it seafood paella?

you gulped the hurt that you were feeling rising up your throat from your chest. atsumu was too busy looking for something to drink in the fridge.

"was there no seafood available?"

he glanced over his shoulder to look at you, "what do you mean? you're allergic."

"babe."

"what?"

"i love seafood."

this time his eyes slowly closed, realizing another mistake. another thing he forgot about you.

"what are you not telling me?"

he couldn't tell you. not when he wasn't sure, so he shook his head, apologized and made up an excuse.

from there on, he kept trying to make up to you. but it just didn't feel the same anymore because it either felt like out of obligation or he was trying to cover up the other things he hurt you for. each time he does, he doesn't realize his temper was thinning.

you tried to communicate with him over and over again whenever something felt off.

but your patience, your empathy, your love can only go so far.

what he doesn't notice is he wipes his lips or cheek whenever you kiss him.

what he doesn't notice is he glowered whenever you talked.

what he doesn't notice is he stopped exerting effort.

he doesn't notice he's showing all the signs that he's gradually falling out of love.

he doesn't notice that he's losing you.

but you do.

you, the silly lover girl who didn't let things go unnoticed.

you tried one last time to communicate to him your feelings. irritated, he only said, "i'm tired of this."

so after you waited him to go to sleep, you decided to leave.

you place a hand on his forehead and kiss the back of your hand as goodbye, fearing that even in his sleep he'd find annoyance in it— that it'd wake him up or he'd wipe the kiss away even in his sleep.

that was the last time atsumu has seen you.

and he noticed now that he shouldn't have believed in the signs.

general masterlist | haikyuu masterlist

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR POST ANYWHERE IN OTHER PLATFORMS

[spacebagfullofstars]

Evolution X-Men meeting Deadpool for the first time

An idea for the first episode Deadpool would appear in the show. It'd take place during early season 2. I don't have enough ideas to write the whole thing but here's the introduction

After the Brotherhood fled and the old warehouse was empty once more, the X-Men could finally focus on their unexpected guest. Through the darkness where he stood, they could see him sheathing his katanas and stretching his arms.

"Phiii-ew! Nothing like a good workout after a mind-numbingly boring sail home!" He said, rolling his neck and shoulders. "Warms my cold, unfeeling heart to see the streets just as crime-infested as I left them!"

After a second, the man stepped towards them and into the light. The younger members of the X-Men couldn't help, but gasp when he revealed himself to them.

The person who joined their fight was wearing a red and black costume that covered his whole body, including his face. Outside of the twin katanas on his back, he had two gun pouches attached to the sides of a multi-pocketed belt. His white eyes stared at them with unclear intent.

"You?!" While Kitty, Rogue and Kurt were intimidated by his presence, Scott and Jean stood their ground. They appeared to be more disgusted than afraid. Surprisingly, the man seemed to recognise them as well.

"Jeanie! Scottie! Long time no see! Come here and give uncle Deadpool a hug!" He said, spreading his arms. Before he ran at them, Jean used her powers to throw him into the air. His enthusiasm faltered.

"Cold. I guess you don't want all the radical gifts I bough you abroad!" He said, starting to levitate upside down. "Do kids these days still say it? Do they say 'radical'? I hate that word. I hope it'll die out quickly."

"You know this weirdo?" Kitty whispered to them.

"He calls himself Deadpool." Jean stated. "He used to break into the Institute regularly."

"That's all you have to say about little ol' me?" Deadpool interrupted, then traced a line from his eye down his cheek. "You can't see it, but I just shed a sad tear. I thought we were friends."

"We're not-"

"As (I'm pretty sure) my pop used to say, if you want something done right, do it yourself!" The mercenary clapped his hands, interrupting her again. He kicked his legs and pushed himself back up so he could face them properly.

"I go by many names! Deadpool is one, but some prefer to call me the Merc with the Mouth!" He stated, pointing his thumbs at himself. "The world-famous mercenary willing to do any kind of job for a good pay, weapon expert, master of all known fighting styles and three times Champion of Hot Dog Eating in West Virginia! This city used to belong to me, but the merc job is unforgiving and I had to leave it for like twenty years!"

"We haven't seen you in two years." Scott corrected.

"It felt like twenty to me, so it must've been! Now I come back and see that you X-Dorks grew in numbers!" Deadpool continued, then crossed his arms and looked away. "Not that I'm bitter, or anything. I can do so much better than your little rich kid houseclub anyway."

"... Wait, he was an X-Man?!" Rouge asked, baffled.

"Professor tried giving him a chance once." Jean sighed. "He almost blew up the mansion."

"Like that old thing doesn't blow up every other week, am I right, guys?" Deadpool snorted and rose his hand. Outside of the distance between them, no one was willing to give him a high five. He waited a few more seconds and then high fived himself.

"Is it bad that he kinda reminds me of Kurt when he has too much sugar?" Kitty snickered.

"Don't even joke like that!" Kurt didn't like that.

"The only difference is that Kurt isn't..." Scott began, then whistled and swirled his finger around the side of his head.

"I believe the term you're looking for is 'able to think outside the box', three eyes." Deadpool overheard them and air quoted. Without any warning, he disappeared in a small flash of energy.

"What the-?!" Kurt cried out as they all stepped back in surprise. After a second, the mercenary reappeared behind them.

"And who those adorable new faces might be?" His voice startled them all. "No, no, don't tell me! You look like Jessica," He said, pointing at surprised Kitty. "Your super power is shrinking. You look like Bridget and you love being different!" He pointed at Rogue, making her scoff at him. "And you look like Elvis! You have an eternal bad hair day!" He said, pointing at Kurt.

"What?" The blue boy squinted.

"Deadpool, stay away from them!" Scott warned, flashing his visor in readiness. "Whatever you came here for, you're not getting it from us!"

"Look at you all grown up and shouting orders like a boss man! Relax, kid, I have no quarrel with you today. I just wanted to catch up and meet new people! Speaking of..." Deadpool said, then reloaded his gun that he suddenly grabbed. Something darkened in his eyes. "Where's Wolverine?"

The other X-Men could see Jean and Scott getting tense. It seemed that despite their distate, they were scared of the man after all.

Suddenly, Deadpool seemed to hear something and his head perked up a bit. They could almost see a smirk forming on his face.

"Right on the clock." He mused. He spun his gun in his hand, then without any warning, whipped back and fired a single shot.

Wolverine had entered the warehouse and managed to sneak behind them. He quickly released his claws and slashed the bullet mid-air. Before other X-Men could stop him, Deadpool switched, pulled out his katanas and teleported again. He reappeared right in front of Logan and took a swing at him. His weapons and the mutant's claws clashed.

"Kurt, get everyone outta here!" The X-Man shouted. The boy nodded. The kids came closer and he teleported them away, leaving the two alone.

"I had a feelin' I smelled a rottin' brain somewhere!" Wolverine growled.

"You're the one to talk, dog-breath!" Deadpool retorted, trying to slash him again. Wolverine blocked him. "Dog, or bear, or some other animal that smells bad! I don't want to say badger, because I feel like I'd be beating a dead horse at this point-"

"I miss the silence already!" Logan said. He roared and tried to throw a punch.

Meanwhile, the group reappeared outside.

"What does this Deadpool guy want with Logan?!" Rouge couldn't help, but grow concerned.

"They have... history." Scott explained. "I'm pretty sure they hate each other."

"Like he and Sabertooth?" Kitty asked.

"Honestly? We have no idea." Jean admitted. "It's best to just stay out of the way and let Logan handle it. He always does."

As soon as she said that, they heard an explosion that made them jump. Suddenly, Wolverine fell out of a window with a trail of smoke following him. Deadpool jumped after him and skilfully landed on the ground. When he stood up, the kids saw that he was holding a bomb with his face painted on it.

"He has explosives?!" Kurt shouted, tugging his hair. Logan returned on his feet, smoke from the explosion still dancing on his body.

"I thought you were done takin' bounties on me!" He shouted.

"I am, but it's an emergency!" Deadpool said, throwing the bomb from hand to hand. "I need this money more than I need food and water!"

"A sellout through and through!" Wolverine said, then charged back. Deadpool let him get close, teleported, and then tried to throw a bomb at him from the distance. Logan kicked it right into the ocean and it exploded in the water.

The mercenary quickly switched back to his katanas and charged with full force at his opponent. There was a lot of slashing, dodging and rolling involved. Neither of them managed to reach each other for a good while. Finally, Wolverine used an opportunity to pin Deadpool to the ground with one arm behind his back.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" He cried. "That's foul play! You're disqualified for being a bad sport!"

"Cry me a river, Wilson." Logan tsked. "Whoever hired you must've not known that you always lose to me."

"Yeah. That might be true." The mercenary said, another almost visible smirk appearing on his face. Little did Wolverine know, his free arm was trying to reach for a hidden pocket in his costume. "By the way, don't think that I forgot to bring a souvenir or two for my bestest friend. Why don't you let me go so I can show it to you?"

"I ain't lettin' you go that easily, bub. You're gonna tell me exactly who sent you and what kinda money made you break your promise."

"Oh, I love to talk! Especially with you!" He quietly unzipped the pocket and reached inside. "But you know I can't talk about my employers. Merc 101. Buuuut, I can tell you all about the crazy places I've been to for the past two years! I learned like three different languages! Do you want me to say something in Chinese?"

"If you're tryin' to make me angry, it ain't gonna work. We've been doin' this song and dance long enough for me to know when you're lookin' for a distraction."

"Awww, you care about me enough to know my strategy! You so deserve that little treat I bought you!"

"Logan, look out!" Rouge shouted, but she was too late. Logan felt a sharp sting in his leg. He gasped and quickly pushed himself off Deadpool. He looked down and saw a dart sticking from his thigh. The X-Men were ready to intervene.

"Do not get involved!" Logan snarled, sensing their intent. His head was already beginning to spin.

"Yeah, you better listen to Papa Wolvie! This is between us adults!" Deadpool shouted, looking at them as well. The mutant suddenly fell to his knees, trying to fight whatever Deadpool injected into him, but it seemed stronger than his healing factor. His eyes started feeling heavy, and finally, he fell lifelessly on the ground.

"Logan!" The kids yelled. Jean was already floating whatever she could to throw at Deadpool.

"Don't worry, X-Kids! I promise to give him back as soon as I get my money! Follow your dreams and stay in school!" Deadpool gave them a peace sign before he kneeled in front of Wolverine and teleported away with him.

[rivendell-poet]

Hello! It’s the same anon who asked you about the Hobbit movies :) I was wondering if you could write (no pressure! I just mostly wanted to share an idea) funny headcanons or a scenario of a female reader (could be a non-Mirkwood elf or someone from a long-lived race) who was part of Thorin’s company and meets Legolas again 60 years later when she’s with Frodo in Rivendell? Reader remembers how Legolas wasn’t too courteous to the Company and locked them up in the dungeons which made her dislike him quite a bit. And let’s just say that she wasn’t all too… thrilled upon meeting him again in LOTR and him joining the Fellowship with her ahaha. Bonus points if she remembers Legolas calling Gimli a ‘goblin mutant’ when he looked at Gloin’s locket in the Mirkwood forest xD.

Again, please take your time with this :) I understand that you have quite a few things to write, and I only want you to write whatever you feel happy writing <3

Hi anon! Sorry it took so long for your request, but hopefully this was what you meant with scenarios. If you'd prefer a oneshot please feel free to put a new request in <3 Thanks so much for the idea by the way, it was super fun to work with. And it genuinely means so much to read the last note on your request, so seriously thank you

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

Gender-neutral reader | Wordcount : 0.5k | TWs : None

✧ To be perfectly honest, you hadn’t wanted to join the Company in the first place - it was more of a collection of favours than a real desire to reclaim Erebor.

✧ Which made it so much worse when you and the Company got captured in Mirkwood.

✧ (It probably didn’t help that you’d let out a small laughed at the blond elf’s joke about Glóin’s son. In your defence it was funny.)

✧ As an elf, the guards had been cordial to you - and you’d managed to find out quite a few things about the kingdom. Such as the blond elf being Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.

✧ He tried to visit you, once, holding the idea of having a better bed and better food over you if you gave up the information.

✧  And you may not have wanted to be in the Company, but you’d be damned if you weren’t loyal to them.

✧ So you’d simply refused to speak to him.

✧ Although all that knowing his name, and your time in Mirkwood, really did was help put a name and reasons for your grudge.

✧ A grudge that hadn’t gone anywhere, until now.

✧ Because sitting across you from you at the Council of Elrond was the same elf as the one who you’d only properly seen through bars. Not that there was recognition in his face.

✧ The matters only got worse when you realised the name of the dwarf who was joining you - Gimli.

✧ For the first leg of the Fellowship you don’t bring it up, because the quest to save Middle Earth is (sadly) more important than a simple grudge.

✧ It doesn’t mean that you can’t still be slightly petty to him however.

✧ You never do anything that could endanger him, just subtle things - like waking him up a few minutes before his watch should start, or loosening his dagger from his scabbard only enough to make him confused.

✧ Gimli eventually figures out it was you, but promise not to tell. He’s the only one aside from Gandalf who actually knows of your involvement in the Fellowship, but not of the precise comments.

✧ That’s a little bit of information you want to share on a good occasion.

✧ You decide to finally share the story a little after leaving Lothlórien, because you can tell the Fellowship needs some cheering up.

✧ And when you say it you feel completely justified in waiting this long.

✧ Because you get to watch the elf almost turn pale - as pale as an elf could go - as the realisation hit him.

✧ (The rest of the Fellowship does briefly have to deal with Legolas looking horrified while you laugh and try not to keel over.)

✧ Merry and Pippin join in the laughter as soon as you explain the joke.

✧ And it does the job in cheering the Fellowship up.

✧ Legolas takes it surprisingly well, although afterwards approaches you to apologise in private - genuinely expressing remorse for his actions.

✧ It’s unexpected but welcomed, and you thank him for it.

✧ From then on it becomes an inside joke between you all (especially you and Legolas).

✧ And, when facing what you are, even a simple joke can be one of the brightest lights for the two of you. A light both of you are grateful for.

A/N : Sorry to any readers who wished for comedy, I'm afraid I'm not great when it comes to writing this. But hopefully you enjoyed it! And, honestly, I'm very open to writing more in this universe/with this premise if people want some <3

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @ferns-fics / @chewgazellechew / @recordofragnarokfan2 / @stormchaser819 / @raikan624 ✧ wish to be tagged?

[vodika-vibes]

Can we get some Echo smut pretty please!! (Also one of my biggest pet peeves is how like every tbb echo/reader fic is always about him being insecure about his prosthetics like I get it but it's so repetitive. My man can be so confident and cocky when he wants to be and people seem to forget that.)

Who's Insecure

Summary:  Several months after joining Clone Force 99, Hunter surprises them with a night off at a local club. But, for some reason, his brothers seem to think he will be insecure about his new appearance. Which means, he has a point to prove.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1557

Warnings: Smut, club sex, Echo uses his scomp for purposes it's not designed for

A/N: So, I love Echo, and I love Echo smut, and I'm really not sure why I don't write more of it. But, anyway, here's Echo smut with some plot. It's not a lot of smut, but I hope you like it anyway.

Click HERE to be added to my Taglist

It’s a nice club. It’s not 79s, it doesn’t have the same comfortable vibe that 79s has, but it’s good all the same. The alcohol is cheap, the snacks are edible, and the music is loud.

For Echo, it’s good enough.

Honestly, he’s more surprised that his little brothers were willing to go clubbing at all.

While he would never say so to their faces, they aren’t really the clubbing type.

Which is a shame, because there’s a cute girl near the bar who hasn’t taken her eyes off Tech since they arrived. But, knowing his genius little brother, he won’t notice. And, even if he did notice, he wouldn’t know what to do about it.

At times like this, he really misses Fives and Jesse.

But, much more importantly, he has his eyes on a pretty little thing dancing up a storm on the dance floor. So far she’s turned away everyone who’s tried to dance with her. That said, she keeps meeting his gaze and tossing him flirty grins, so he’s just biding his time.

What kind of older brother will he be if he ditches his brothers before making sure that they’re having a good time?

“Echo?” He pauses, his bottle only centimeters away from his lips, and he tears his eyes away from swaying hips to focus his attention on his, suddenly nervous, brother. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Just,” Hunter nervously shares a look with Crosshair, who looks almost bored, “We just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Echo stares at them blankly for a moment, and then he smiles, “Sorry?” He’s got to at least pretend to be a good role model, right? He can’t just ask them what the kriff they’re talking about, that’s rude. 

“We know that you’re a little uncertain about your new look,” Tech says without looking up from his datapad.

I’m what now? Echo blinks at his brothers, genuinely thrown by Tech’s comment.

“And people can be cruel,” Hunter continues, “Just don’t let it get to you if people make comments—”

Suddenly, Echo realizes that his new little brothers seem to think that he’s insecure about his prosthetics. Or his scars. Or maybe both. Maybe he’s done too good of a job at hiding his gremlin personality (as Rex calls it) from them.

He hums thoughtfully, his mind racing, and then his gaze slides back to the dance floor. For a moment, his gaze lingers on a specific pair of swaying hips and legs that go on for miles…and then he smirks.

Echo downs the rest of his drink and sets the bottle on the table, before he pushes to his feet, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, vod’e.” He turns to head to the dance floor, “I won’t be back to the Marauder tonight,” He tosses over his shoulder with a slightly smug smirk. 

He weaves through the crowd of people and dismisses the two men who are trying to force his dance partner to dance with them with a flick of two fingers. 

She grins up at him, “I wondered if you were going to join me,” She teases, her voice light and conversational.

Echo’s hand slides low on her hip, “Patience is a virtue, didn’t you know?” He’s amused and he sounds it, “I’m definitely worth waiting for, babe.”

She hums and trails her fingers down the front of his shirt, “Prove it?”

“Gladly.”

In full honesty, you didn’t expect the cute soldier to actually come over to you. You don’t expect your flirty looks, teasing smiles, and seductive dancing to tempt him onto the dance floor with you. Let alone for him to clutch you to him as though you’re his and his alone.

He’s confident and cocky, not to mention strong and unfairly handsome. He has you wrapped around his little finger after one dance, after two you’d probably agree to anything he asked, and after the third dance, you’re wondering what you have to do to be able to keep him.

Your back bumps against the cool metal door of a storage room, and you can feel the music from the club vibrating down to your bones, but neither sensation is as important to you as the feel of his lips against yours, and his tongue sliding against your own. 

His arm is tight around your waist, holding you flush against him, as he blindly opens the door behind you and then walks you into the small room. You hear him lock the door as it slides shut behind him, and you whine low in your throat as he pulls away from you. 

Echo chuckles and cups your cheek, “Someone’s eager,” He kisses you quickly, and pulls away again making you pout up at him. He looks amused, you can tell that much even in the dim light of the storage room, though you’re not sure why he’s so amused.

You don’t say anything, just deepen your pout, and lean into his warmth.

His thumb slides across your lower lip, “Ah, cyare. I’m going to have to break you of these bratty tendencies,” But, even as he says it, he looks delighted.

“Not bratty,” You whine, before you take his thumb into your mouth and suck on it gently. You have a very talented mouth, maybe if you show him just how talented you are he’ll continue touching you again.

You keep your gaze locked with his, so you watch as arousal darkens his gaze. “Very bratty,” His voice is lower now, and you shiver at the promising tone in his voice, “Take your clothes off.”

You blink at him and pull away from his thumb, “All of them?”

“Did I stutter?”

You take a step back and slowly start peeling your clothes off. You’re not wearing much, all things considered. A top, a skirt, panties, and your sandals. 

You’re about to toss your panties to join the rest of your clothes, but Echo tugs them out of your hand and shoves them in his pocket. You don’t mind, it’s not like you don’t have more after all.

“Mm, look at how pretty you are,” Echo murmurs, as he backs you toward a table near the back wall and encourages you to sit on it. It’s surprisingly sturdy, for a wooden table. He taps the inside of your knees, spreading your legs so that he’s able to stand between your thighs. 

His gaze drops to your pussy, and he releases a quiet breath, “Look at how wet you are,” His gaze flickers to your face as he slowly brushes his scomp against your clit, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “All this for me?”

For some reason, you feel like you should be embarrassed at just how aroused you are for this man you just met, but you aren’t. You feel safe and warm and you want more.

You are aware enough to know that he’s not a mind reader, so you squirm under him and spread your legs slightly, “More,”

He grins at you, “What was that? You want me to stop?”

“No, More! Echo—”

He pulls his scomp away from your clit, and you release a whine of displeasure, which is quickly muffled by his lips against yours, “Greedy,” He chides against your lips, “And so rude. Did no one teach you manners?” His tone is teasing.

You blink at him, hazily, “Please?” 

“Please what, beautiful?”

You tug on the front of his shirt, “Touch me,”

“I am touching you,”

And he is, his lips are moving across your jaw and down your neck, while his hand alternated between tightly clutching your hip, and caressing every inch of skin that he can reach.

You squirm against him, able to feel his erection pressed against your thigh through his jeans, “Stop teasing me,” You whine.

“All you have to do is tell me what you want,” Echo replies, “That’s it. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I want—” You’re interrupted by a loud moan at the sensation of his scomp ghosting against your pussy.

“You want?” He’s laughing, the jerk.

It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and you shoot him the neediest look you can muster, “I want your cock, please?”

His grin widens, “Well,” Echo leans in and kisses you slowly, “Who am I to deny such a polite request?”

He pulls away just enough to unfasten his pants and tug his boxers just enough out of the way for his cock to bounce free, “You’re not gonna fully undress?” You ask, breathlessly.

“If you’re a good girl,” Echo replies as he gathers some of your arousal on his fingers to spread on his cock, “Maybe you can have me in your bed and see me naked.”

“I can be good,” You counter, and then your head falls back with a moan as the head of his cock nudges your clit.

“Yeah?” His hand moves to the back of your head and he makes you look at him. There’s a grin on his handsome face, and you gasp as he thrusts deep inside you with one firm roll of his hips. 

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, as he bottoms out and stops moving, much to your displeasure. 

Echo’s lips hover just over yours, as he throws your words back at you, “Prove it.”

@n0vqni @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @continous-mistakes @yoitsjay @cc--2224 @adriennelenoir

[greenconverses]

I’m big time upset about annabeth’s characterization in these new books. She looked for Percy for a year or something, did everything she did in HOO, she’s so amazing that she caught up on all of her school work (in fact she’s back on track to go to an ivy if she wants after everything that happened to her), she has all this extra time for Percy (having a boyfriend is time consuming enough without his quests), and then she’s so good at socializing with mortals and so popular…. Just to go to New Rome University (wtf is new rome university) and live in new rome. It makes me sad for her because I feel like RR won’t let her be bad at anything or awkward anymore and she just has to be this hyper competent angel gf all the time…

Oh also the way Percy is contrasted against annabeth in this new series makes me nauseous. I feel in some ways she only exists as this hyper-competent angel gf so that percy has something to "aspire to"… as though he hasn't proven himself a million times and deserves to constantly measure himself up against annabeth. It really just robs them both of their depth and motivation and mutual respect for each other that was so painstakingly built up in the original books.

I was telling @perseannabeth last night that while Annabeth had a lot of pagetime in Wrath, she felt like an utter non-presence other than the last couple of action scenes. And yes, it's because he keeps writing Percy as the only one with all the problems and Annabeth is the perfectest, smartest angel who is always right and can do no wrong, unlike stupid idiot Percy. Ha. Ha.

I do think a lot of the character issues in these books come from him avoiding or only introducing easily resolvable conflict with the main trio. Part of what makes Percy and Annabeth, well, Percy and Annabeth is that they have conflict. Conflict doesn't mean they have to be mean to each other or something terrible has to happen to them, but having them at odds with each other over something (anything) allows for interesting character development and growth.

Grover and Annabeth each get moments of "aw I kinda fucked up" in Wrath that are resolved with basically no effort because Percy shrugs it off or blames himself for their actions. I couldn't even begin to tell you how Annabeth's hubris played a part in the third act ghost fight, but apparently it did, so that's a thing he can brush off because teamwork is all that matters in the end, kids!

And the thing is, Rick is actually setting up a really good conflict with Percy constantly bottling up his rage and messy feelings, but he's too much of a coward to pull the trigger on it. Grover destroying the house and releasing the animals was the perfect spot to actually pursue that conflict and give everyone something to do other than mini quests. Percy could've yelled at Grover and Annabeth for failing to do what they had promised him, and then everyone could deal with the consequences (both of the initial mistake and the fallout of his anger) and make amends in a meaningful way. Instead, Percy has to grit his teeth and fucking apologize to Grover instead. (I'm gonna do a separate post about this because boy howdy do I have THOUGHTS on that.)

By making Annabeth the perfectest, smartest girlfriend ever for dumb dumb Percy, RR is basically removing the conflict that makes them interesting together. There's also the matter of conflict being one of Annabeth's main drivers. Conflict happens to Percy ("I didn't want to be a half-blood."); Annabeth looks for it. And now she's just along for the ride... as long as it doesn't mess up her studying schedule! Her job is school now. Don't get your hopes up.

Also, super controversial opinion ahead, but I think the show casting has contributed to how he's writing Annabeth now. He's deliberately avoided describing her in these books. It's all very vague impressions of her, to the point of Percy describing her having a "human face, human hair" when she turns back after the animal transfiguration in Wrath. No blonde hair. No gray eyes. It's weird.

(Note: I'm not saying the TV cast is wrong or weird, I'm saying it's fucking insane that this man is trying to retcon 15 books worth of character descriptions so his dumbass "actually we never SAID annabeth was white, you just perceived her as it!!!!" defense holds some water.)

[ladylooch]

Surprises in Seattle - [Liv X Luca]

A/N: The way this took me forever to come up with an idea for... and then I wrote it in an hour and it was suddenly over 2k words... Writing is wild man. WILD! Thank you 🇧🇷 anon for the request. Sorry for how long this took.......... yikes!

Original Request: I would love for a small thing of Liv and Father in law Kev interacting, I think there's has to be funny moments between those two that will leave him laughing wildly and she getting soooo embarrassed!!!! 😂😂😂 - 🇧🇷

Word Count: 2.2k

Have fun tonight, baby. I’m so proud of you 😘

Liv reads off the text quickly while she finishes out the last curl of her hair. Once it’s set, she rips the plug out of the wall and hastily rushes out of the bathroom to grab her purse and jacket.

I wish you were here, babe. Good luck tonight! And be safe

Liv responds as she walks out of her hotel room. She double checks she has what she needs- key, purse, jacket, phone- then let’s the door close softly behind her. 

Tonight is a long anticipated night for Liv. It’s the first day of her second book tour. She’s doing a book signing at the cute, local bookshop across the street. This book tour is so much more chaotic for her because she self-published her second book. After all the issues she had with her previous team not seeing the same vision for the book, Liv quietly walked away from them. Truthfully, they let her go easily, not seeing much of a reason to fight her wishes. Fine with her. She knows what she is capable of. Never again is a board room full of people going to tell her what to do with her art.

She has Ryder to thank for that. Without his fierce belief in her years ago, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’s thankful now that the past is in the past and they’ve all been able to move forward, especially with Ryder’s recent trade to the Kings. 

Liv’s black heels clack against the tile of the hotel lobby. She makes her way out the door, then falters slightly when she sees the line outside the bookstore. She bites her lip then quickly takes a picture to send to her fiancé. 

Baby, you’re so popular 😏,  he immediately texts back

You better not be texting and driving.

Oops. Love you! 

Liv rolls her eyes at her man’s worst habit. Then with confidence in her step, she crosses the street to the bookstore hosting her event. The crowd sees her step onto the sidewalk and they begin to clap for her. Liv gives them a huge smile, dimples out and proud, along with an enthusiastic wave.

“Thank you all for coming! I can’t wait to meet you!” She calls back to them, then slides into the bookstore. The owner, Lillianne, ushers her to a makeshift curtain room where she can sit in privacy until the event begins.

“Are you still okay with doing the Q&A before the signing?”

“Of course!” Liv confirms. She hopes there aren’t any awkward silences with fans not having anything to ask her. Otherwise, this long anticipated night is going to end quickly.

In another few minutes, the crowd is allowed into the store, bring noise into the normally quiet space. Liv does a few breathing exercises to settle the nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach. As a writer, she knows this is part of the job, but she still worried that her fans won’t like her. She would never want someone to come away from an interaction with her and be disappointed. 

From behind the curtain, Liv watches as people being to filter into the seating area. She wishes she had someone in the crowd for her today, but this is the only stop on her tour where she won’t be able to meet someone after. She has five more stops after this. Savannah is meeting her in Atlanta, her parents in NYC, Luca in L.A., Mack in Chicago, and Luca’s little sister, Lena, in Phoenix.

But tonight in Seattle, it’s only supposed to be her. 

Yet, when she steps onto the stage, the first person her eyes land on is Kevin Fiala in the front row. Her steps almost falter, but then she waves and continues forward. He cheers excitedly for her appearance and Liv can’t help but grin wider. 

Kevin’s presence helps ground her in confidence as she beings the Q&A. The thoughtfulness of their questions has Liv buzzing with excitement. They wonder about the main characters, her writing style, how this process was different from her first book. There are also questions about what it is like to date a professional athlete, how her and Luca have found a balance with their successful careers and of course, what is in the future.

“I think our biggest focus right now is this book tour for me. Then it’s back to hockeyland before we get married this coming summer.”

“Will you change your name!?” Someone shouts out without the microphone.

“Yeah, I think Livia Fiala has a great ring to it.” She grins. “But I’m not sure if I will change my pen name yet. It’s an ongoing discussion.” 

With that, the Q&A is finished and Liv begins to head off to the signing table, but not before a quick, rushed hug to Kevin.

“You’re here?!” She greets him.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He smiles. Liv gives him a grateful smile, then heads back behind the table. The next interaction she has with him is cheeky and adorable.

He proudly displays her cover to her in both hands, then taps her name at the bottom.

“Fiala will look much better than this.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my fiancé that. He will appreciate the support.” She chuckles. Kevin slides the book across the table to her. Liv blushes at how sweet it is of him to be here to support her AND buy a book he could easily get for free. “Should I make this out to anyone?”

“Yes, my son, Luca. L-U-C-A.” He jokingly spells out as Liv chomps down on her bottom lip to stop from laughing. She concentrates on the letters of her fiancé’s name. “He’s a huge fan of your work.” Liv’s mind immediately goes to how appreciative of her work Luca was before he took her to the airport this morning. Her giggle escapes and she looks back at Kevin brightly.

“Anything in particular you want me to say to him?”

“Please write: Your dad was my favorite Swiss hockey player growing up.”

“No.” Liv laughs immediately. “My dad would be crushed! And probably my uncle too…”

“Okay, okay.” Kevin concedes. “Hm, what would you want it to say?” He asks, quieter, more reflective. Liv contemplates then tilts down to write: 

I can’t wait to get home to you. I love you! XOXO Livy.

Liv finishes off with a heart after her name, then gently closes the book. She hands it to Kevin.

“He will love that.” He murmurs. “

“I think so.”

“Can I take you to dinner to celebrate?”

“I would really love that. Thank you.” Liv smiles at her future father-in-law. “I think your son would probably love a picture.”

“He would. Otherwise he is gonna think his mom signed this for him.” Liv belly laughs. She stands up next to Kevin, pointing and looking surprised for their selfie as Kevin grins next to her.

“Nice to meet you Ms. Fiala- Uh Meier.” He stutters. “Sorry, Fiala just sounds so natural for you.” Then he saunters away, leaving Liv giggling in his wake. 

Liv continues signing and engaging with fans. From the corner of her eye, she can see people divert to Kevin for a picture or autograph. He tentatively comes over to interrupt and asks if it is okay with her before he signs anything.

“Yes! Go for it!” She assures, but is truly touched that he wants to be sure the attention stays on her. 

Although he engages in some hockey talk, Liv can hear Kevin bring the conversation away from him and back to her work time and time again. He enthusiastically talks about her new book and characters, even speaking about his favorite scene towards the end. Liv is touched that he read it, and also a little embarrassed considering there is a smutty hot tub scene in the middle chapters. Her neck flushes as she thinks about the real life scenario with his son that inspired that. 

It is after 8pm by the time all the fans have been greeted and books signed. Liv reunites with Kevin for dinner. She requests they go to a bar to find the Kings game, knowing it’s a nationally televised game. 

“Luca scored the first goal.” Kevin fills in for her as she squints at the score. The Kings are up on the Flyers 2-1.

“Nice!” Liv murmurs, then drops her eyes to the menu. They both order and watch the game in relative silence, outside a comment or so about the game. It’s comfortable and appreciated after Liv just did so much conversing. Her energy is zapped.

“Did Luca put you up to this?” Liv finally asks after they have finished dinner. 

“No. He doesn’t know I’m here.” Kevin tells her. “But we were talking to him earlier this week and he did mention you were nervous about being here alone.” He takes a sip of water. “Your our daughter, Livy. If any of our kids were worried about something like this, Sam and I would be there to support them. So here I am. If Sam wasn’t sick, she would be here too.” Liv knows that. She bites her lip for a moment, feeling overcome with the emotions of the whole day. 

“Thank you. I’m really lucky.” She murmurs. 

“You also look very tired.”

“Yeah.” She starts to laugh.

Kevin grabs the bill from the waiter and pays it before Liv can get her hands on it.

“No kid of mine pays for dinner either.” He insists when she balks. 

“A lot of rules to being your kid. Somehow more than Timo Meier…” Liv teases. Kevin laughs. 

“You are lucky Emma is your mom. The Hischier in her balances everything out.” Liv nods. This is true.

“Are you leaving early tomorrow?” Liv asks as they step back out onto the street.

“I am here until noon.” 

“Great, then I’ll take you to breakfast before the airport.”

“Sure, but you’re not paying.” Kevin points a scolding finger at her, lowering his eyebrows.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Liv affirms. 

As she snuggles into her hotel bed for the night, she sends a text to Luca seeing if he is home yet. His response is a FaceTime call.

“Hellooooo!” Luca cheers. “Oh! She’s in bed!” He grins. “Is this a sexy FaceTime?”

“No.” She says through a yawn. “I just called to say goodnight. I’m dead. And I have to meet your dad for breakfast tomorrow.”

“My dad?” He questions.

“Yeah, he showed up tonight. Bought a book and everything. Let me send you the picture.” She hears the ding and adores the instant smile when he looks it over on his screen.

“Wow, he’s so cool. I wanna be like him when I grow up.” Luca laughs as he takes something out of the microwave. “Pasta.” He shows her the bowl, then spoons a huge, steaming forkful into his mouth. “Hawt.” He huffs out. Liv can only shake her head. “That’s awesome that he came tho. I didn’t expect that. Was mom with him?”

“No, she is sick.” 

“Oh, damn. I bet that killed her not being able to come. Still cool that dad came alone though.” 

“Your dad called me his kid like all night. This one sweet older man came up to him and complimented him on raising me.” 

“I hope he corrected that.” Luca gives her a knowing look.

“He made sure to tell the man that he was the dad I always deserved but didn’t have growing up.” Luca barks out a laugh.

“You know he is going to text your dad that later.”

“Oh I’m sure he already has.” Liv chuckles. “But yeah, it was really nice. The night.. hearing that… having him show up for me. I feel really lucky to share your family with you.”

“My family loves you, baby. But nowhere near as much as I do.” He says softly. “I’m glad you had a good night. You deserve this success.” Liv lets his words soak into her skin. Before, she would have blushed and brushed that off, but Luca is right. She does deserve this. She’s worked and fought her ass off to get here. 

“Thank you. I miss you though. I wish there weren’t so many days before we see each other again.” She huffs. While Liv is going back to L.A. for the weekend, Luca will be heading out of town on a road trip. 

“I know, baby. I miss you too.” He murmurs, pushing his empty bowl across the counter. They stare at each other and as he always does, Luca knows her thoughts before she can fully think them. “We are okay.” He fills the silent worry she has that distance will stretch them too far again. “Two weeks is nothing for us.” He reminds her. She nods in assurance. 

He is right. Liv bites her bottom lip, then looks up at him with dewy eyes. Luca perks up from his slouch.

“This is a sexy FaceTime!!!!” He yells as he runs out of the kitchen, heading towards their bedroom. 

Liv smirks. 

He’s been so good to her, supportive and unwavering, he deserves a little bedtime show.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

also, about carmillas control of her vampirism, while it's hot to think about, i dont think fangs actually come out during sex. like in the s3 scenes where shes actually still a vampire that we dont get to see but i dont think that happens

based on my inferences that the losing control of the vampirism happens mostly bc of anger/threat and it basically never happens atlaura and i think one of her worst fears is hurting laura, i think during sex is the least likely time for any loss of control like that

+ theres the fact that laura is the bitey one during sex, even with human teeth

[yesyourstalker]

Oshi: I don't know what to tell you koi.... We're married. We've been married around 40 years. It really wasn't my choice in the matter but you know I didn't object to it....I'm..... I'm settled

Koi-koi: you shouldn't settle. You're young-

Oshi: hehehe I'm not young

Koi-koi: well you certainly are beautiful and very accomplished I just hate seeing someone like you settle for something less than she deserves

Oshi:.....

Koi-koi:...*sigh*.. If this is what you want that's fine but if you're not happy you have options. You can work on your marriage and your relationship with Shimi or you can just leave him. My opinion you leave him

Oshi: koi

Koi-koi: you can do better I'm just saying

[NOW BOARDING FLIGHT 85. KRILLARNEY]

Koi-koi: That's my fligh. I had fun Oshi we should do this again

Oshi: we really should.... Be nice to my husband koi-koi

Koi-koi: I won't.

Oshi:.........*sigh*......... hello?.............. Yes, I remember the interviews for tomorrow....... Yes, I have time.... Yes, I'll be there at 6:00..... Not even out of the airport. I'm already back to work

_______________________________________________

Baja: hey zuzu

Zuzu: hey sweetie! Congratulations! you're trending! I knew you were going to be popular cutie

Baja: yeah...ha ha ha ha...[inhale].............[exhale].......... those comments

Zuzu: Don't worry sweetie those comments eventually will mean nothing to you. I remember a picture of me mid-sneeze went viral it's been a meme ever since...hahahaaha anyway...

So the third interview is just a meeting with the owner and co-owner of ink lab studio... It's not an actual interview.... The fourth is an interview with the producer, that one's real.

the last one.... If you get the job is going to be an actual interview with a celebrity and it will be filmed so...... Be prepared

Baja: ok.

Zuzu: great....so how are you liking the others are you getting along with any of them? You know vibing with some of the co-hosts you might work with?

Baja: I talk to some they seem nice..

Zuzu: well that's nice I would suggest you actually make friends with one of the co-hosts It's better to actually like the people you work with, so be friendly.

Baja: I'll try............. I'm not really good with making friends

Zuzu: ohhh hun..... Just be confident. find someone who has that same energy as you and it'll just click trust me . Have you seen the results for the survey yet?

Baja: no they should be coming out tonight though

_______________________________________________

Email: hello Baja, this is a email coming from Valerie The results are in and they will be airing tomorrow at 6:00 p.m. after a commercial break, we just wanted to inform you in advance that you have been selected to be in the top six applicants for 'midnight music' The other applicants who have made it passed are Tammy and Gill for host. Ash, Ramone and Lake for co-host. We wish you luck and hope the best in the future outcome

Baja: I made it past...

_______________________________________________

Owner: I would like to thank you all for wanting to be a part of the ink lab family. I'm Denzel and this is my co-owner Lyra

Lyra: charmed ..... We are just waiting for one of the producers to show up she should be here around 6. :00 at the moment. Feel free to look around the studio where you will be working. Down the hall will actually be the set for two of you will actually be hosting the show.... Down on the left side is the food court where we provide fresh meals for you from various chains. You are also free to leave the building, but you must be back within 30 minutes..... The break room lounge is over here or you're free to eat your meals and enjoy your breaks and Converse with other people in the studio.

Oshi: I'm here I'm so sorry for being late traffic...*ok*.... hello everyone I'm Oshi Octavio you can just call me Oshi..... It's very nice to see new people here. ....... They will be joining ink Lab studio?

Denzel: Yes at least two of them will be.... The show will be airing on the sister channel O.E.T. network.... Octarian entertainment television... And it will also be streamed on the ink lab studio Plus

Oshi: yes.... yesyesyes...... I remember that meeting. So we will have to do one-on-one interviews with the six of you. Let's start with.....you..uhh..... Tammy.

Tammy: HIII!! It's such an honor to meet you. Mrs Octavio. I love your movies

Oshi: thank you sweetie go to the office and will be there to interview............................. I thought we agreed that this project was primarily octoling and or non inkling run. How did she make it through?

Lyra: her father is one of our biggest investors.

Oshi:.......*sigh*..... ..... All right.....

_______________________________________________

Baja:......................

Ramon: (chewing).......hey .....(chewing).... You want one?

Baja: hem?

Ramon: gum.....(Chewing)...... Octoberry blast.....(POP)..... It's pretty good.... I mean I like squidmelon Punch little bit more but it's not a bad flavor....(POP)....

Baja: oh....thank you ..... I like your watch

Ramon: oh this? Thanks it's a mulex dupe. It's their hip-hop line. This one is based off of the group 'undertow terror'

Baja: oh undertow I'm a fan of them. Little flux, Big Eazy-E and Medium Manuel

Ramon: you like the classic group huh? B.B.S. Before Big Sal......

Baja: I like them both equally, both of them contributed to their voice and talent to the rap group......tho I did enjoy Big Sal's record scratches and remixes in the early days. How he mixes the smooth and easy listening jazz music he got from the surface and mixing with urban hip hop from the underground he grew up with. Breaking it down, constructing and morphing it into his own genre of music really shaped modern music today

Ramon: I agree. I can't argue with that .......but compare it to Big sal's freestyle and his excellent wordplay. Nothing can beat his double entenders and his lyricisms. "gotten close to my goal. Got in touch with my soul". Getting in touch with his soul, explaining his journey to self-discovery but also the soul of his shoes.

Baja: He went hiking a lot when he got to the surface. One of his music videos from 'wise up' was in the woods

Ramon: I remember the commercial he used to do for Rockenberg. . When they used to be an outdoors and camping store.

Baja: actually it's a triple entender you see during 1992 Big Sal was in another rap group called ' journey into the soul' and in 94 they broke up and weren't on speaking terms. It was only until he made it to the surface in 97 he actually started to reconnect with them. So it could also insinuate that he was back in touch with his old group

Ramon: wow you know your stuff man

Oshi: Ramon? your interview is up next!

Ramon: That's me..*uggh*..... It was nice meeting you. I didn't get your name.

Baja: Baja.

Ramon: Nice to meet you man...

Baja: yeah... yeah you too......

_______________________________________________

Koi-koi: mommy's home!

Merv: hi darling

Noiji: MOM!!

Ikkan: hey mom

Koi-koi: oh my precious boys *kisskisskisskisskisskisskiss* I missed yoooou!...... I missed you..hehehe *kiss*

Merv: hehe we can catch up tonight

Koi-koi: ooooo hehehehe

Ikkan: oh my cod! we can hear you

Noiji: eugh! Stop

Koi-koi: you two hush up. How the hell do you think you got here.

Warabie: hi Mrs Kane!!

Koi-koi: Hi sweetie *peck*..oh ..look at you.... Look at those arms. You've been doing a lot of work.

Warabie: hehehe yeah.... I've been...... I've been working hard.... been lifting.

Ikkan:.............

Warabie: what?

Cirrina: grandma!!

Koi-koi: Cirrina! *Kiss* hey sweetie...... Shimi

Shimi: koi

Koi-koi: hm

Shimi: hm

Merv: you called and told me you were going to be home by tomorrow. Was your flight delayed hun?

Koi-koi: I would have gotten here a lot sooner except someone........ decided to text me and asked me to bring their suit to be tailored right after I got off the plane. I had to buy another ticket to go to your apartment, pick up the suit........

Ikkan: sorry mom

Koi-koi: head back to the airport to buy another ticket to krillarney and now I'm here. ...... Here you go.... You owe me $200 for plain tickets

Ikkan: thanks mom

Koi-koi: hmmm...... Neta says hi and he loves you very very much and he misses you.....he said a lot of things I couldn't keep up but overall he loves you and misses you

Ikkan: sounds like Neta

Koi-koi: also he gave me your dress to try on Cirrina....... it's from Lilith Bay collection

Cirrina: the floral mesh!?! AHHHHHHH! He told me it was too expensive!! i have to try it on now!!!

Ikkan: well I guess I need to try my suit... Mom do you think you can tailor it

Koi-koi: no

Ikkan: why? Mom you know how to sew

Koi-koi: nooo nooo absolutely not. I don't want to see my baby in his suit until his wedding day. Go to someone else, I know Mr Higgins across the road used to do it

Merv: Mr. Higgins passed dear

Koi-koi: oh.......oh......well you can go into the city and get it tailored somewhere.

Ikkan: alright

_______________________________________________

Baja:.......*huff*.......*huff*.........

Oshi: Baja! You're interviews next

Ramon: you got this

Baja: [inhale].......[exhale]...... Okay

Oshi: so you're Baja Genson..... Tell me about yourself Mr. Genson what's something interesting about yourself but you would want the audience to know about you

Baja: ohh....well what would you like to know?....I'm 22.....I have several siblings too many to count hehehe ...um...I play the saxophone... I'm actually in a community band We play jazz, classical and other various genres. We actually have a concert in the couple months

Oshi: that's interesting...... Why do you want this job really

Baja: oh um . ......... I'd say I want this job because I love music but mostly were people involved in music. I love musicians I love their history. I love their backstories and their origins and how they came to be. Not only as musician but also a person. A vast array of knowledge and trivia about artists that a lot of people don't know about and I'd love to share it with the public...

Oshi: hmmm

Baja: I'd also would love to ask the artists themselves about the trivia and maybe give me more insight on it. Like maybe they have a funny story or....... Maybe more context....

Oshi: well..........ok.....my son. You know him right? Can you tell me something about him that many people don't know?

Baja: I guess it depends on which son you're talking about. I know a lot of people know about warabie and his music career. His first ever track that he was credited was actually turquoise October when he was 13. it was on a demo track.... Which was only 3 minutes long.... But you could also be talking about your oldest son Dashie who used to make jingles for commercials.

Personally, I feel like that's a very underappreciated form of art in the music world. He specifically made music for food chain shanty's. But the height of his success was when he made the theme song and composed music for 'the Donnie dock show' back in '08. Though he asked not to be credited directly. He was under the alias of Dave. He's won at least two cabbies for best music composition in the kids entertainment category.

Oshi:........................................................................................................................... I think I'm done with this interview

Baja: oh.....ok........uhhhhhh..... I... I'm sorry I know some people get uncomfortable when I know a little too much about-

Oshi: We'll be shooting the pilot at 9:00 a.m. on the 35th. Come back tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. for your photo and ink lab studio ID...... We're also going to be taking promotional pics with you and Ramon.

Baja:........... I got the job?

Oshi: yes. You're very respectful, you seem very kind , you're very handsome and you show off a genuine love and care for artists.......... Congratulations Mr. Genson You're now part of the ink lab team.

Baja:......*huff*.. ..*huff*....ha!...*huff*.....hu....*huff*..huuuuu........................ Where's the bathroom?

Oshi: The hall on the right

Baja: thank you

_______________________________________________

Ramon: (washing hands)..........hay man how'd your interview-

Baja:UGGGGGGG.....*cough*....*cough*....uggg..... .... .... ....

Ramon: oh........*sigh *.....you okay man? Hey? It's all right. This is just your first audition you know. There's going to be a lot more opportunities for you... I mean you can put this on your resume. You made it do the top six

Baja:......*huff*.....*huff*.....I got the job!....

Ramon: Right on!...... Weird way to celebrate... (flush).... Let me help you up. Come on let's get you something to drink.

Baja: Hahah...[inhale] [exhale].... alright ...heh...let's go

[zenlosingit]

Bit of a hot take here but I don't think Dana is a good significant other for Terry nor should be a permanent one.

AND I WISH THAT WASN'T THE CASE!!! I WANNA SEE THEY HYPE AROUND IT!!! BUT THE WRITING NEVER HELPS!!!

Near every time I pick up a Batman Beyond comic or rewatch an episode it always pins Dana against Terry and calls him out as a bad partner.

Now granted it makes sense! Terry is living a double-life and keeping it a secret from Dana and with such it does create problems in their relationship- I get it. Yet, when the writers make the decision to have Dana always mad at Terry for lying, to have Terry always be in the wrong in their relationship and for him to be the one to always repair it, it just doesn't sell to me.

Because when Terry took on the mantle of being Batman after the death of his father, he presented it to his family and friends as a demanding job he took on to help support his family. Losing his dad cost his family to be down a steady income and him having a criminal record already doesn't give much promises in finding a job to help support his family. Having this job is a literal life-saver for him, yet she doesn't seem to care.

Your gonna tell me that Terry didn't lay it out to Dana? That he didn't explain to her what the benefits he would be receiving from this job, that he is lucky to have gotten this opportunity despite his criminal background, yet he has to be on-call at all times despite it? That he didn't tell her he would do his best to prioritize their relationship and make time for her, yet that she has to understand that if he's needed he has to go, and that he has to be there for however long he is needed?

I've seen constantly Terry bending his back to make their relationship work, to making set dates with her and scrapping whatever ever free time he has to make it up to her, yet all I've seen in response of Dana is whining and indifference to his efforts in trying to keep her happy.

And I know there are moments when Dana is understanding, that she gives him leniency and lets him do him and waits for him at the end of the day- but it happens so little that I just can't get behind it.

It just frustrates to me that, with how far Terry goes in trying to maintain his relationships while still maintaining his duties as Batman, that same consideration he has for them is not returned back- or isn't often shown being returned back. He deserves happiness as much as anybody and to have support no matter how much info people know about whatever problem. Yet from what I've seen, Dana doesn't fit the bill.

[miabrown007]

a minute of silence to my skills to estimate how long a project is ever going to take

[poetryofyouth]

boss went to the office sick last week, on a call she joked about how "she's gonna give it to all of us haha" now i am sick, most likely from her and joke's on her if I don't feel well tomorrow morning then I'll not work as is my legal right and she will have to deal with me not being there

[bruhstories]

sweet like honey ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

summary: logan ended up spending his evenings in the bar across the street from your bakery, watching you do your job. he never approached you, never talked to you, but he always kept an eye on you, until he has a bad feeling. pairing: logan x fem!reader warning & content: swearing, violence, reader almost gets assaulted (but logan saves the day), she/her pronouns for reader, wade being wade, unprotected p in v, fluff, angst, lots of baking and mentions of food, slightly ooc logan (if you squint), slow burn, sex in a bakery wc: 6k

a/n: i don't always write, but when i do, it's a fucking thesis. unedited.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Logan was never a fan of sweets. He hated chocolate, cheesecake, gummy bears — literally anything sweet. The only thing he could barely stomach was tiramisu, and only because it had coffee in it. Other than that, he steered away from sweets like they were the fucking plague.

Yet despite all that, he found himself enjoying the smell of freshly baked croissants, custard donuts, brownies, and whatever goods you baked in your little bakery, conveniently situated across the street from his go-to bar.

Cleverly named Flour Power, it was all pastel both inside and out, with little pots of hyacinths hanging from its window and a big sign above the entrance. Not that Logan ever went there, but he always walked past it when he went for a drink. Flour Power stood out from all the shops with its baby blue windowsills and bubblegum pink door. As much as he disliked vibrant colours, his eyes were always drawn to the bakery. But not because of how it looked or the way it smelled.

No, Logan strategically sat down by the window in the bar to see you. Every evening, he watched you sell everything you had on display, from wedding cakes to éclairs, greetings customers with a warm smile on your face. He watched you turn the sign from open to closed, lock the door, clean the display shelves, the counters, the only two tables and four chairs inside, and sweep and mop the floors. Then you disappeared in the back for a while, perhaps doing the dishes or preparing dough and frosting, before you walked out, locked the door again, pulled down the blinds over the big window on the right side of the door, and left.

It became a ritual for Logan to watch you. In a way, it brought him some peace, despite him never speaking to you. To him, you were innocence personified, the type of girl who made others feel better simply by being there, and he didn't want to disturb that peace.

Tonight was an ordinary night for the 200 year old mutant. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, drank it all, then went to the bar to ask for another round, killing time until you closed the bakery, then he could finally go back to the apartment. You closed at 7 for clients and left at 8:30 every evening except for Sundays, when you didn't work. Logan knew your schedule a little to well, even knew you opened for clients at 8 in the morning, but you were there much earlier, because he could smell the pastries at around half 6. This time, however, you seemed to have a bit more work. It was past 9, it was dark, and you still hadn't left, and Logan was slightly concerned.

He watched you like a hawk, how you tucked rebellious strands of hair behind your ear when you mopped the floor, how you wiped your hands on your cute little apron after you finished scrubbing the countertops. Logan thought you had extra orders from customers, perhaps a wedding cake. He scrunched his nose at the thought of having to try so many flavours only to pick a damn cake that he probably wouldn't enjoy anyway.

But finally, you were done.

It was almost 10 when you locked the door to the bakery, double checking to make sure it wouldn't budge. Then the blinds and off you went. Logan was satisfied to see you go, but the hairs on his back suddenly stood up, his nostrils filled with the scent of danger. Bitter, sour, it went straight to his brain, and so he finished his drink and left the bar, following you down the street but keeping a safe distance.

You walked past a group of drunk men, gripping your tote bag with your left hand and your keys with your right one. You've learned to place the keys between your fingers, like claws, in case someone attacked you. Going home at that time wasn't something you enjoyed, and you always tried to avoid working late, but sometimes that was inevitable. When you heard footsteps approaching you, you picked up the pace, but paranoia kicked in, and you didn't want whoever was following you to find out where you lived, and so you took a detour.

Logan was like your shadow, going everywhere you went, until he heard something drop in a dimly lit alleyway and he sped up, finding you round a corner, pinned to a wall by a man while another guy had his hand up your dress. It was too dark to see, but Logan didn't need eyes to know that was you. He could smell the vanilla extract and icing sugar and fear.

"Take my wallet!" You told the men, but they weren't there for the money. They wanted something else from you.

"Nah, doll, I'll take something else from you. Somethin' more precious than money." One of the men said, his breath reeking of alcohol, the cheap kind.

"Hurry up and fuck her, bro, I need my turn-"

Something flashed, then a shadow lunged at the second guy who couldn't even finish his sentence before he was struck down.

"Mike?" The man who pinned you against the wall asked, his hands trembling on your body. "Stop fucking around."

But Mike was seeing stars somewhere on the alleyway. It happened so quickly you couldn't understand what was going on. When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, you saw him, rough, handsome and very, very angry.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man asked, but all he got in response was a guttural growl. "Hey, man, I don't want any trouble. My girlfriend and I were just talking. Stay out of it." He grabbed you by the neck, dragging you away from Logan.

You seized the opportunity and wrestled out of his grasp by biting your assaulter's hand, dashing behind a bin.

"Ow! Fucking bitch!" He lunged at you, but Logan was quicker, piercing his claws through his shoulder and holding him in place.

"That's no way to talk to a lady." The mutant snarled, and you watched how his claws retracted before he punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him down.

He was the Wolverine. You had seen it all over the news, how he saved your universe, how he came from a different world. You couldn't believe he was the one helping you when you thought no one would save you in that moment.

"You alright, kid?" His raspy voice startled you and you barely nodded, still too shocked to move or speak. "You sure?"

You shook your head and tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally started to process what just happened. Logan scrunched his nose — comforting someone wasn't his strongest skill — and instead he picked up your bag and keys from the pavement.

"Shit, um, don't cry." He handed you your belongings, and you looked up at him with a frown.

How could you not cry when you saw your entire life flashing before your eyes? Logan swallowed a lump in his throat and offered his hand to help you stand up. You looked at his hand, reluctant to grab it. The only thing he could compare you with was a cat — cautious, yet curious.

"No claws." He said when he understood the meaning behind your eyes. "Come, I'll- um, I'll walk you home."

The invitation had you perk up and gain courage, and you quietly took the bag from his hand. He walked with you in complete silence, until you stopped in front of a building. You lingered, unwilling to go in. Logan asked if that was your place, and after you nodded, he offered to take you all the way to your apartment, which made you feel relieved. He could see it on your face when you sighed. You guided him up the stairs, constantly looking behind you to make sure he was there.

You stopped in front of a tall wooden door, keys in hand.

"Go on. I'll wait until you lock the door." Logan encouraged you.

"Can you stay?" You finally spoke, and your voice was sweet like honey, fitting for a baker.

"I don't know, kid-"

"Please." You looked at him with glossy eyes, pupils blown from the fear that hadn't left your body yet. The fear he could still smell.

"Yeah. Okay, I'll stay."

"Thank you."

Logan followed you in, and you flipped the light switch on before locking the door behind him. He looked around and, just as he expected, the apartment was a direct reflection of your bakery — clean, colourful and calm. There were recipes stuck to the walls with pink pins, and between them little paintings of sunsets, skies, flowers, cats. All things cute. They weren't framed, and so Logan figured they were hand-made, his assumptions confirmed by the easel in the corner of your living room.

Of course your sofa had to be colourful, too — mustard yellow with sage green cushions and blankets. Even your curtains were sage green. Despite the explosion of colours, Logan found himself enjoying being there. Not everything had to be brown, black and grey, he thought. Probably the only vibrant thing in his life was his suit, since the only people that brought colour were his friends, and they were gone.

"Drink?" You cracked the walls he put up around his heart with that sweet voice.

You shook a bottle of gin to get his attention and he nodded. Logan wasn't a fan of gin, but he didn't expect you to have any hard liquors. He watched you pull out two blue glasses from the kitchen cabinet, and of course they had to be funky, with white flowers on them.

"Where'd you get these?" He asked, swirling the drink in his hand.

"I made them. Kind of." You said. "Bought them from a charity store and painted the flowers. Do you want some tonic water?"

"Fuck no." Logan choked on his gin when you asked him that question. Simply being in a place so... colourful was enough. He didn't need a girly drink.

"I'm Y/N, by the way."

"I'm-"

"The Wolverine!" You cut him off a little too eager.

"-Logan. Call me Logan." He cringed when the beverage tickled his taste buds. It wasn't bitter enough for him.

"Logan. Thanks for tonight. Is there any way I can repay you?"

The question was riddled with innocence, but he couldn't stop the degenerate thoughts that popped in his mind when you asked him that. You were just so pure that he wanted to both protect you and ruin you.

"Don't mention it. I couldn't just walk past without doing anything." Logan lied, because, really, he wasn't just walking by, was he? No, it was downright stalking.

"I could bake something for you." You offered and he shook his head.

"I don't like sweets, kid."

"What?" You were baffled. "Everybody likes something sweet."

"Not me." He shrugged. "All I like is tiramisu and only if those biscuits are doused in coffee."

"Ladyfingers." You corrected him with a chuckle. "They're called ladyfingers."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious! Here!" You rushed to your pantry and pulled out a whole box of them, showing Logan the name.

"That's just stupid." He shook his head. "Who calls them ladyfingers?"

"Uh, everyone?" You laughed at his surprise, and the thoughts of your bad evening slowly dissipated, like a bad dream.

Logan truly was clueless about baking, but spent hours listening to you talk about types of sugar, extracts and their uses, and the difference between baking soda and baking powder in cooking. You rambled on and on and not once did he get bored. He could listen to you talk for hours with your voice soothing. Logan thought about it, and he genuinely never met someone like you before. The women in his life were all so different, but you took the cake. You were special in ways he couldn't understand. And he was just so drawn to you.

"I'm sorry, I haven't stopped talking once!" You apologised, realising how safe you felt with him there. You would never let a stranger inside your house, let alone talk about baking while having gin. But Logan wasn't a stranger. Not after he saved you.

"'s alright. It's not every day I learn about baking." He chuckled, finishing his drink. "Listen, I should get going."

"Right." You sighed, eyes darting at the floor. "No, of course. I've kept you too long."

Logan got up and you walked with him to the hallway. He was slow to put his leather jacket on, as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything, but when you didn't, he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hey, Logan?" You tugged at his sleeve, whispering so you wouldn't wake your neighbours. "Are you sure I can't bake you something? Not now, I mean. I really want you to try something besides tiramisu. And that way I can repay you."

"Hell, why not?" He shrugged.

"Great!" You beamed at him like a child on Christmas day. "Stop by my bakery tomorrow at twelve. It's on Granville Street."

"I thought you didn't work on Sundays."

"Oh, how'd you know?" You quirked a brow at him.

Caught red-handed.

"Educated guess."

"Fair enough." His answer satisfied you. "Be there or be square!"

Sleep was for the weak. All night, Logan tossed and turned and abused his poor pillow with with punches. The mere thought of seeing you, no, interacting with you, had him wriggle like a worm on the mattress. It didn't help that Wade instantly noticed something was up.

"Oh, my, did you shower, peanut?"

"Not today, Satan." Logan poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Mmm, and what do I smell?" Wade sniffed the air. "Wait, is that my perfume?"

"Forgot to pack mine when I swapped universes." The Wolverine barked back.

"Hah!" Blind Al chimed in from the living room. "I think tall, dark and handsome here has a date!"

Logan rolled his eyes while Wade pouted, plopping on the sofa next to Al.

"You never called me that."

"That's cause you’re a degenerate." The woman snorted.

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it- ow! Stop hitting me with your cane, I know where you hide your nose candy!" Wade fought back.

"Touch it and I'll bust a cap in your ass!" Al scoffed.

"And I'll regenerate."

Logan used the opportunity to slip into the hallway, but his roommate was quicker, and blocked the door.

"You're not going anywhere until we have the talk."

"The talk?" The Wolverine snorted.

"Ah, they grow up so fast." Wade told Al. "Now, son, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"I'll give you three seconds to fuck off."

"Oh, but I need to know everything! Who is he?"

"She." Logan rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god, is this you coming out to us? Al, he's straight! I promise we love you anyway." Wade went for a hug and all Logan could do was accept it. He learned to live with Wade, even though he dislocated his jaw a few times after he moved in.

"Alright, that's enough."

"Nooo, we're just getting started. Name? Age? Occupation? We could do a double date with Vanessa-"

"Absolutely fucking not." Logan pushed Wade off of him.

"Okay, okay. Just make sure you wrap your willy, and if you need any advice, daddy's here." Wade opened the door for his roommate.

"Actually." Logan lingered in the hallway. "What kind of flowers do girls like?"

The blinds to the bakery were closed but you were inside, pastries in the oven and dessert in the fridge. You couldn't help yourself and prepared something savoury as well, in case he didn't like the lemon cake. A knock on the door startled you, and you rushed to check who it was.

Logan stood there, a bouquet of peonies in his hand. You welcomed him in with a smile, but he could tell it was different than the one you flashed your customers. It seemed more genuine. And it felt like a date.

"These are for you." Logan handed you the flowers, taking in the scent of pork pies. "I thought you were gonna bake something sweet." He flared his nostrils.

"I did, I just thought I should have a plan B in case you didn't like my cake." You placed the bouquet in a vase on one of your tables. "How did you know I liked peonies?"

Logan couldn't believe Wade was right about those damn flowers. And there he was, thinking roses would be better. Maybe the Merc with a Mouth wasn't so bad after all.

"I had a hunch." He shrugged. 

"Well, Logan, I love them! Now sit, sit!" You ushered him to his seat. "I hope you're hungry, because there's a lot for you to try."

"A lot? I thought you'll make me a cupcake or somethin', bub."

"A cupcake?? Don't be silly." Just as you said that, the oven made a loud ding sound, and you turned on your heels, heading in the back.

Logan waited patiently, observing every little detail from the front of your bakery, from the spotless display shelves to the neatly organised paper bags, to the fairy lights around the window. It was obvious to him that you had put your mind, body and soul into this bakery, and his expectations were quite high after all the fuss you made. But he decided to be nice not matter how the food tasted. He couldn't bear seeing you upset if he didn't like what you made.

You reappeared with a tray in your hand, and on it two plates, one with a small pork pie, one with a croissant, and a cup of coffee. Hell, even the cutlery was cute, with swirls engraved on the handles of the fork, knife and teaspoon.

"I decided to leave the cake for last." You said, placing the tray in front of him. "This is a simple pork pie, start with that." You urged him. "Careful, it's hot."

The Wolverine struggled with the cutlery, too small for his large hands, and the brief thought of slashing the pie with his claws crossed his mind, but he decided to be civil. You watched him butcher the food, eager to see his reaction, but he was taking his time.

"I'll let it cool off a bit."

"Ooh, that's probably a good idea." You nodded.

"Aren't you having some?" Logan asked.

"Noo, no. I like to bake for others, not for myself."

"So what do you eat, then?" He sipped on the coffee.

"Instant noodles usually. I'm too tired to cook when I get home. I do occasionally have leftovers, but whatever isn't sold I take it to the local shelter." You explained.

Christ, you couldn't be any kinder. Logan was stunned by your beauty and your soul, which was why he decided that after today, he will stop any interaction with you. He couldn't ruin you, not with his lifestyle, not with the danger that followed him everywhere.

The only problem was that the conversation flowed naturally, and he felt safe with you, just as you did with him. Like you were the missing piece to his puzzle. Logan pushed away those thoughts and decided to try the food. He took a large mouthful of the pie, chewed and swallowed, and you waited expectantly.

"Shit."

"What? Is it bad?" You jumped from your seat.

"Fuck, this is the best pork pie I've ever had." Logan wiped his mouth with a tissue you provided. "I'm serious, kid. Did you put drugs in it?"

You laughed, shaking your head as he finished the rest of the pie. He truly seemed to enjoy it, and you felt so satisfied. But the real test came after.

"Pistachio croissant." You said. "I thought about making almond ones, but I figured pistachio wasn't that sweet."

"Right, let's see." Logan took a healthy bite out of the pastry, and lo and behold, he closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. If heaven had a taste, it would be that damned croissant.

"Is it good?"

"Good? Jesus, this is the best one yet." He finished the rest of it, the pistachio cream tickling his taste buds in all the right ways. "Who taught you to bake like this?"

"My grandma. She was the best cook I knew." You smiled.

Logan noticed your use of past tense, and he didn't want to bring up any bad memories. He wasn't the nosy type, but something possessed him to ask you about your life, your family, your favourite colours. He needed to know more about you, and you answered all his questions, opening up to him like a flower in bloom. But when it came to him talking about himself, Logan was reluctant.

Talking to Wade was easier, because Wade didn't take anything seriously, nor did he ask personal questions. Well, he did, but in his own stupid way that provided Logan some distraction, as well as a reason to punch him. But with you it was different. He felt like he owed you serious answers that he wasn't yet ready to tell a stranger who made a mean pistachio croissant.

"The cake!" You spun on the chair, changing the subject when you saw Logan dodging your questions like bullets.

Although he didn't say it, he was grateful that you didn't put any pressure on him to talk. He wasn't a talker. That was definitely Wade. You came back with the whole cake, and it looked so good that Logan didn't want you to cut it. Perfectly round, a layer of cream in the middle and white frosting on top. You even went so far as to decorate it with all kinds of yellow flower petals and what seemed to be mint leaves.

"Alright, hit me. What's this one called?"

"I call it the Mojito Cake. The sponge cake has lemon zest, the cream is made of lime, mint and rum syrup, and the frosting is buttercream with a dash of actual rum." You explained.

"Shit, I can't tell if that sounds disgusting or incredible."

"Only one way to find out." You cut him a thick slice, and Logan wasted no time trying it.

"I think you found yourself a new customer."

"You're too nice."

"I'm anything but nice, kid." He took three more spoonfuls. "But I ain't a liar. This is delicious." Logan spoke with his mouth full and it made you chuckle.

"Oh, there's a bit of frosting on your face."

"Hm?" He used the tissue to wipe his chin. "Did I get it?"

"No, it's still- here, I'll get it." You leaned forward and delicately ghosted your thumb over the corner of his mouth, eyes locked with his.

Without thinking about it, you dragged your tongue over the frosting, and Logan couldn't look away from you even if he wanted to. A gesture so innocent, but it destroyed any form of restraint. He pressed his lips onto yours, tasting the rum and the cream, but before you could kiss him back, he pulled away.

"Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

You gave him no time to finish his sentence when you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him with fire on your tongue. God, he hated being touched, but when you did it, he melted in your hands. Lust battled reason and prevailed, and you found yourself straddling Logan's lap, arms around his neck and chest pressed against his.

His large hands found their way under your dress, fingers digging in the plush of your thighs until a moan escaped past your lips. Logan could've sworn you were pure in all ways — a virgin — so, naturally, he was surprised to see you eager to jump his adamantium bones.

With the last shred of reason left in you, you glanced at the door and window to make sure they were covered, and pushed Logan's jacket off his shoulders, peppering his neck with soft kisses. He wasn't the gentle type, no matter how hard he tried, and he didn't need to be when he felt your hips grind in his lap. It was more than obvious that you wanted him then and there.

Logan lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and slammed you down the empty table. His roughness sent a chill down your spine, because you really wanted him to manhandle you from the moment he stepped foot in your bakery. He kissed you again, pressing his whole against yours until your back hit the table. You felt like a cornered animal with nowhere to go, and the thrill of it turned you on.

"Are you sure you want this?" Logan asked despite you unbuckling his belt.

"I don't want this, I want you. I need you to fuck me so hard I can't walk." You unzipped his jeans, and although he was taken aback by your sudden use of filthy words, he couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing that side of you.

"Greedy little girl." Logan's hand slithered between your legs, fingers rubbing circles over your clothed clit. "Shit, you're soakin' wet. Can feel it through your fuckin' panties already." He flared his nostrils, taking in the scent of your arousal.

With his jeans loose around his waist, you palmed his cock through his boxers, and it didn't shock you for a second that he was rock hard. What did shock you, however, was the size of it. It was probably the biggest you've ever taken, and you didn't want any other man anymore.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, making it clear that you didn't want to waste any more time. Not that you didn't want to suck his dick or explore every inch of his body and worship it the way a man like him deserved it, but you were impatient.

Logan got the hint when you whined and scoffed, and he tore the pink panties off of you, tossing them on the floor. At least he had the decency not to put them on the table, which you were going to disinfect anyway. He pushed his boxers down, and you propped yourself on your elbows to look at him, and it was a sight for sore eyes indeed. He had perfectly sculpted abs, you could see them under the half-lifted t-shirt, but it was his cock that made your mouth water.

"Like what you see?" Logan was smug, confident in his good looks.

"I need to permanently imprint this image on my retina." You told him, and he couldn't help the chuckle.

"Likewise. Now spread 'em."

"Yessir!" You very quickly obeyed, parting your legs for him, and Logan couldn't deny that he enjoyed being in control.

He wasn't one to take orders, nor give them, but watching you comply scratched an itch he couldn't get rid of. Logan pressed the tip of his cock against your slick folds, earning another whine from you. You bucked your hips, craving more, and he scoffed.

"That desperate, hm?"

"You have no idea." You dug your manicured fingernails into his shoulders, bracing for temporary pain, because you knew damn well it would hurt.

"I don't know, I didn't hear you say please." Logan frowned, and you understood what game he was playing. A game you yearned to be part of.

"Oh, please, please, please fuck me, Logan! I'll be so good for you! I'll do anything you want." You clung to his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. "I'll even take it in any hole you want." You whispered, dragging your tongue over his lips.

"Shit." Logan was weak in the knees from your words, and the worst part was that he believed everything you said. But there was a time and place for everything.

You were the perfect mix of sweet and spicy, and you begged so nicely that the Wolverine just couldn't say no. You felt the leaking tip of his cock push past your folds and you audibly gasped at the size of it, drawing blood from his skin with your fingernails.

"It won't fit-" You whined with lust in your voice.

"I'll make it fit." Logan promised, painstakingly slowly thrusting into you.

He gave you time to adjust to his girth, constantly checking if you were alright, if you wanted him to carry on or stop, and while you loved that he was so caring, you needed him hurry up and fuck you.

To assure him that you would survive his monstrous cock, you planted a soft kiss on his nose, and there it was again, the change in your personality, from sultry to innocent. It was as though you embodied everything he ever wanted, and his desire to never contact you again went down the drain. How could Logan ever leave someone like you?

"I'm ready." You nodded, and he pressed his forehead onto yours, slowly rolling his hips.

You weren't ready, because it hurt like a bitch when he stretched out your velvety walls. But the pain was soon replaced by pleasure, and Logan picked up the pace when your whimpers turned to moans, and the slight frown on your face disappeared.

"So tight." He hummed, forehead resting against yours.

Were you tight, or was he just so incredibly big? Either way, you were a panting mess already, clinging to him for dear life, and Logan forgot his worries, even if it was just for that one moment. You were too good to be true, with your parted lips and glossy eyes — a beautiful sight for his sore eyes.

"Fuck, I- fuck!" You wrapped your legs around his waist, the table screeching under you. Not a single coherent sentence could come out of your mouth. "Logan, shit, I-"

"What's the matter? Need something?" He cooed, fingers bruising into your hips. "Use your big girl words."

"Need it ha-harder!" You cried out but he slowed down, confusion written all over your face.

"Where are your manners?"

"Please, daddy, please give it to me harder!"

The term of endearment had Logan quirk a brow at you, but he wasn't surprised in the slightest that you had a daddy kink. And he basked in being called that.

"Are you sure you can take it?"

"Yes!" There was no hesitation in your response. "Fuck, yes!"

Logan growled when he felt your pussy clench around his cock, and he delivered, thrusting deeper, harder and faster into you, until the sound of skin on skin echoed in the bakery, and your breathing became heavier.

"Fuuuuck, I can feel it in my gut!" You threw your head back when the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix.

"Filthy. Little. Slut." Each word came with a thrust and a groan, and he filled you up so good, you became addicted to him.

Your toes curled up, and your legs began to twitch when you felt your orgasm build up. Each push and pull made your vision blurry, and Logan's grip on you tightened as his hips stuttered. He was feral, and he was close, you could feel it in your bones.

"Fuck, Logan, do- oh- don't stop!" Words spilled from your mouth incoherently, and after a few more thrusts, pure bliss rushed through your body.

"That's it, let go." Logan buried his face in the crook of your neck, slamming hard into you until all you could do was chant his name like a prayer.

You felt him fill you up, pussy hot and sticky and sore, and he slowly pulled out, eyes darting at the tissues on the table. He grabbed them, gently cleaning you up, and you couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was just something about a man like him be so gentle. And you were absolutely delighted to have him take care of you.

"You know," Logan said licking his lips, "I'm beginning to think you didn't want me to just taste your pastries."

"True." You told him smugly. "But you liked them."

"I like you more." He blurted out without thinking.

You felt your cheeks burn at his sudden honesty, and after sliding up your underwear and fixing your dress, you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I like you too, honey badger."

"Don't ever call me that again." Logan chuckled.

"Not happening. Now, could you pleaaaase help me clean up this place? The last thing I need is a surprise hygiene inspection tomorrow."

He couldn't even imagine what the inspectors would do if they found out you had sex in a bakery, and with a nod, Logan zipped up his jeans and began disinfecting the tables and chairs while you swept the floor.

In less than half an hour you were done, and the shop was squeaky clean. You were satisfied with the end result, and told Logan that you wanted him to have the rest of the cake, pies and croissants. He thought Wade and Al could eat something, and decided to accept your offer.

"Can I come with you? There's quite a few boxes of food." You told him, a sheepish grin on your lips.

"Is that your way of finding out where I live?"

"Maybe. I'll go home if you don't want me with you."

"No, you're good." Logan assured you. "Besides, I'm sure my roommate's gonna devour everything. He'll probably lock you up in our apartment and force you to bake for him."

"I don't know if that's a threat or a promise." You laughed.

"Both. It's both."

You walked with Logan down the street, boxes in your arms, and you were surprised to see him open up to you more. He answered almost every question you had, and you felt him more relaxed. And he was. Logan forgot how much he needed that kind of connection with someone. You were so easy to talk to, you didn't judge him, and most importantly, you listened.

He guided you up the stairs to his apartment and knocked on the door, because he couldn't reach his keys with so many boxes in his arms. You baked for a damn army.

Wade opened the door, and you were taken aback by his appearance, but it didn't scare you. Instead, you introduced yourself as Logan's personal baker, earning a chuckle from him.

"Come on in, Martha Stewart." Wade opened the door enough for you to walk through it with the boxes and not drop them.

"Wade." Logan came back from the kitchen with a croissant. "Eat. Seriously, eat."

You watched Wade wolf down the pastry without hesitation and his eyes lit up. He chewed and swallowed, then moaned, eyes rolling back. The look of disgust on Logan's face was priceless.

"Holy fucking shit, Y/N, what the fuck did you put in this?" Wade grabbed your shoulders, giving them a good shake. "It's so flaky and creamy and buttery, like a bunch of unicorns came in my mouth."

"I'm glad you like it." You giggled. "Try the cake."

"There's cake?!" He ran to the kitchen, leaving you and Logan in the hallway before coming back, a slice of half-eaten cake in his hand. "I am officially impressed. Can you make Rocky Road?"

"Yes."

"Dulce de leche?"

"Yep."

"Baklava?"

"Uh-huh."

"Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte?"

"Yes, Wade!" You rolled your eyes, then turned to Logan. "Sugar rush?"

"Oh, you have no idea. And this is him on a good day."

"Listen, sweet cheeks, if old man fuckface here won’t marry you, I will. Just don’t tell Vanessa." Wade whispered.

"Don’t even think about it, you degenerate limp dick."

"Ugh, fine. And here I was hoping all four of us could be a happy dysfunctional family. Five if you count Al. Six with Colossus. Wait, actually, eight with-"

"Wade, have you tried the pork pies?" You asked, effectively shutting him up.

Yeah, Logan could definitely get used to being around you from now on to sweeten up his life.

[its-like-looking-in-3d]

.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:  

“Good.” 

“Fine.” 

“Long.” 

“My knees are killin’ me.” 

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.” 

“Better now that I’m home with you.” 

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone. 

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you. 

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.” 

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock. 

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans. 

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did. 

Not even what he had done today on the job. 

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby. 

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it. 

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day. 

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.  

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too. 

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.” 

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass. 

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.” 

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby. 

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. 

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke. 

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out. 

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.  

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin. 

“I want one.” 

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said. 

“W-what?” 

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.” 

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.  

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality. 

“Joel… Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-” 

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear. 

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin. 

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?” 

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?” 

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.” 

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness. 

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans. 

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby. 

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?” 

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.  

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?” 

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs. 

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.” 

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only- 

To get you pregnant.   

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic. 

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. 

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line. 

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami. 

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good. 

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop. 

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way. 

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms. 

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted. 

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.” 

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache. 

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you. 

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for. 

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. 

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix. 

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core. 

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in. 

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting. 

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give. 

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again. 

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly. 

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-” 

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body. 

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste. 

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath. 

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you. 

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him. 

 “Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs. 

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter. 

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin. 

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer. 

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter. 

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin. 

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.” 

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.” 

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting. 

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

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