#maybe ill figure out how to get it out next time

[sntoot]

first 3 doodles r pretty much directly from this fic, because i’m loving all the interactions in it so much (tho i subbed batu in as the wol because i know how to draw them easily and they would totally ask hythlodaeus can’t use aetherytes??)

i have no explanation for anything else really. hestia always sneaks into my page of sketches bc i like to color their hair

[valentinesparda]

me doing the marriage thing with noah is very funny because the only reason I got here is that I slowly crawled my way through the stages of feelings that I go through which is typically making fun of them -> saying I like them and playing around with the idea of shipping with them but doing so in a self-deprecating way e.g. I'm not worthy of being happy so I'll dance around the subject -> waiting a year or longer to finally feel comfortable with saying I like them and that my feelings are valid -> rearrange ship lore to be more self indulgent and sometimes the very last step is to marry them so congrats noah you've gone up in the world (become fake husband)

[loverboybitch]

knit sweater i made drying out after i dyed it in my kitchen sink.//.

[reading-writing-dying]

Hey the feeling of liking someone a lot and they like you back??? Unmatched

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[orcelito]

I guess I should start looking into apartments for next year. I don't know where I'm going to be working after I graduate yet, but I'll have a car by then, so it shouldn't matter too much. And I'm hesitant to move when I don't know where I'm going to end up... but I will be honest, I cannot live in this place for another year. They've increased the rent by a literal 50% since I started living here 3 years ago, the air conditioning doesn't work, I have to do laundry by *coin operation*, and worst of all there is no patio or balcony to speak of. I need outdoor seating!!! For my mental health!!!! Adding in the fact that it's far too cramped with all the furniture I got from my dad...

Yeah. Even if I only live there for a year, I Got to move.

Gonna be working on sorting through all the shit in my apartment, especially the boxes from my dad. Once I get a car, I wanna make it my personal project in the next year to cut down on the shit that I own. Go through my old clothes and donate anything that I Never wear and Never would. The goal being that by the time I do move, I want there to not be a fucking boatload of shit to move. There's still all this furniture but like. Eh. Ya kno. Still wanna make it better than it could be.

[arolesbianism]

Starting a new oni save that's not a rime colony for the first time in forever and I am in agony how do y'all live like this (shaking and crying as it is forced to enter a mildly warm area for drekos)

[nocturnalcharm]

Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.

“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.

“You too Logan.” Charles says.

On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.

“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.

Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.

“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”

“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.

“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.

“I am too!”

“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.

They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.

“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.

The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.

“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”

“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”

“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”

“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.

***

The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.

When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.

“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.

“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”

“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.

He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.

“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.

You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.

You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.

You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.

“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.

“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.

The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.

It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.

“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”

“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.

You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.

“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.

“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.

He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 

He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.

You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.

Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.

“Logan!”

“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.

Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 

He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.

***

You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 

“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.

You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.

You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”

“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

“It’s all yours!” You sassed.

You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.

“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.

You looked up, embarrassed.

“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”

“…Because I’m the girl?”

“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.

He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.

You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.

You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.

Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Taglist:

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[moonstruckme]

mae my lovely, can i possibly request emt!marauders and reader who hasn’t replied to any texts in a few days/a week? pre-established relationship but not quite living together, and reader struggles with her mental health and has holed herself up in her apartment which worries the boys greatly? please don’t write if you feel uncomfortable (and if you’ve already written it but i’ve devoured emt!marauders today and i don’t think you have) obviously!! love you

Thank you for requesting my love! And thanks to @ellecdc for helping me figure out the emt stuff <3

cw: mental health struggles, self isolation

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Sirius’ knuckles rap loudly on your door. 

“Fuck, ease up.” James winces. “She’s gonna think we’re the cops.” 

“Good. Maybe she’ll answer for them.” 

“You need to calm down.” Remus’ voice is patience with a firm edge. “We don’t know what’s going on. If we go in angry with her, it’s not going to help anything.” 

“I think I have the right to be somewhat miffed,” Sirius argues. “You ghost someone after a first date, not once you’re in a relationship. It’s fucked.” 

“She’s not ghosting us,” James says certainly. Sirius’ mouth pinches in response.

James knows that, truly, his boyfriend is as worried as any of them. You’re well past the point in your relationship where you feel the need to establish the next time you’re going to meet before parting, but after your date last week it took the boys a few days to put it together that none of them had heard from you. 

At first, James presumed you’d simply gotten busy. Remus was convinced he’d done something to upset you. Sirius, secretly the most prone to worry, would rather believe he’s been slighted than consider the possibility that something might be keeping you from responding to their calls. Now that it’s been nearly a week, James is convinced something’s happened. You’ve had to take an emergency trip out of town or something’s spooked you and made you avoid them or—worst case scenario—you’re ill and have been holed up here with no one to check in on you for almost a week. 

Once he brought up that idea, it wasn’t difficult to convince his boyfriends to do a wellness check during their shift. 

“Just don’t be harsh with her,” Remus says gently. 

Sirius huffs. He knocks again, albeit somewhat softer. 

“NHS,” he calls. 

James holds his breath when he hears some shuffling from inside. Gradually, it gets closer and louder, until the door is creaking open and you’re peering through the crack. 

Your voice is scratchy, like you haven’t used it in a while. “What’re you doing here?”

James expects Sirius to snipe at you, is already prepared to smooth it over himself with kinder words and a gentler tone, but something seems to shift in the other boy at the sight of you. He pushes through the crack in your door, hugging you fiercely. 

“We…” Remus seems as thrown by this deviation as James is. “We thought we ought to check up on you.” 

Your hand migrates up, touching Sirius’ back tentatively. “Why?”

“It’s a wellness check.” Sirius’ voice is bitter, but the effect is somewhat muddled by how he’s speaking into your neck. “We had reason to believe you could be harmed or deceased.” 

“Oh,” you murmur. 

James takes a moment to look you over. You’re in pajamas, visibly rumpled, and yet you look as tired as if you’ve not slept in some time. There’s something off about your expression, something missing that he can’t put his finger on. It’s unsettling in a way that makes him want to wrap you up in a tight cuddle and not let go. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, perhaps more brash than he means to be. Normally he’d expect more tact from himself, but he’s shocked Sirius hasn’t asked yet, and someone has to.

“Can we come in?” Remus asks at the same time. 

You look between them like you’re not sure what to do with them. Like you’re questioning whether you’re still in some sort of dream. 

“Yeah,” you say after a moment. James gets the sense you mean it to answer both of them. You step back from the door to make room for them, and Sirius moves with you. “Um, forewarning, it’s really bad in here.” 

Really bad by your standards isn’t the same as James’. If he hadn’t seen the way you normally keep things, he’d never notice anything was amiss. Your place smells a bit stale, like when you leave for a weekend and then come home. There’s a laundry basket on the floor with a few balled socks like you’d started to fold them and given up, and if he peers into your bedroom he can see a small trash pile on your floor and the covers of your bed all twisted up. It’s no worse than his side of the dorm he’d shared with Remus and Sirius in school. 

“What happened?” Sirius asks you. His voice sounds clearer now, and James focuses back in to find that he’s let you go enough to press his forehead to yours. His brow and lips are pinched. “Why have you been avoiding us?” 

James is nearly overcome by the desire to kiss him and rub his back, but he decides to let you have the honor, if you want it. 

You look unsure whether you do. 

“I’m sorry.” The words seem scraped out from some aching part of you. “I wasn’t trying to.” 

“Then why didn’t you answer our calls?” Sirius’ tone matches yours for desperation. Remus’ expression twinges compassionately. 

“I couldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Sirius,” Remus chides softly. 

Your shoulders are slumped, but when Sirius moves away you seem to droop further. He’s only giving you space, his expression far from unkind. 

“Why couldn’t you pick up, dove?” Remus asks gently. 

“I…” Your eyes meander the floor. “I didn’t know what to talk about. And then my phone died, and it was just easier. I’m really sorry.” 

“Is talking to us really that bad?” Sirius is clearly making an attempt at joking, but the heartache underlying his words is unmissable. 

“No,” you sigh. “I’m just not really fit for the world right now. I didn’t want you to worry.” 

James’ ribs hurt at your admission, but he feels himself nodding. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what it is you’re dealing with, he’s familiar with people who think they’re somehow so damaged they don’t deserve to engage with anyone or anything. Sirius was like that once. Remus even more often. He sees the recognition on both of their faces now, pity and love and regret all tangled up into one messy thing. 

“Well, it was a noble effort,” says James, giving you a small smile, “but you can’t stop us worrying. Can I hug you?”

You nod, making an effort towards returning his smile. It’s a half-hearted, flickering thing, but he appreciates it nonetheless. 

He kisses your forehead as he folds you into his arms, starting gentle and tightening when you hug him back. Your grip feels a bit weak, if ardent. James pushes his palm up your spine. 

“Have you eaten today, sweetheart?” 

Your hum in the negative vibrates against his skin. 

“I’ll make us something.” Remus starts toward the kitchen, passing a hand over James’ curls as he goes by. “A sandwich alright, dovey?” 

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it.” His voice raises as he enters the kitchen, and James knows he wants you to hear. To understand that this is something he would happily do for you. 

“Let’s sit down,” James suggests. “Pads, would you mind opening the curtains some?” 

Sirius complies with vigor, whipping open your drapes while James gets you situated on the couch. In the light, the shadows under your eyes are more evident, as is the redness in them. 

James squishes you up against his side. Rubs up and down your arm. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. 

You make a tiny, stymied sound, and turn your head down. 

“Hey.” Sirius sits on your other side. He kisses your shoulder, worry hewn into the lines of his face. “What’s wrong?” 

Your shoulders give a little shake. It’s small, defeated. You curl further in on yourself. 

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

“You don’t have to explain,” James tells you, continuing to drag his hand up your arm. “It’s okay. You’re alright.” 

“I wanted—” You take in a wet inhale. He feels close to tears himself. “I wanted to be better when I saw you. I’m sorry.” 

“We don’t need you to be any sort of way, sweetheart.” Sirius’ voice is soft but fervent. “We just want to be with you.”

“As much as you’ll let us,” James agrees. His own voice is thick, and Sirius slides his arm around you to rub between his shoulders. 

You don’t say much after that. James holds you tight until your trembling stops, and even then he only loosens his grip to let you eat the grilled cheese Remus has made for you. From the wrappers he saw in your room, it’s likely the closest thing to a prepared meal you’ve had in some time. 

When you’re done eating, Sirius insists on kissing the saltiness from your cheeks even though your tears have dried. Remus coaxes you into a bath while James and Sirius tidy your room and change your sheets, and then Remus enlists Sirius to shampoo your hair while he tucks your sheets in more effectively. They put your phone on the charger. James makes dinner and puts it in the fridge for you to have later. None of it fixes anything, but he hopes it makes you feel less alone. 

When they have to go out for another call, Remus gives you a long hug, James makes you agree to go on a walk with him the next day, and Sirius threatens to pester you with calls until you block his number if you ignore them ever again. 

Your eye roll at his antics makes James’ heart sing.

[dcxdpdabbles]

For the Danny=Ra's Al Ghul thing. Danny comes from a world that only looks like ours on the surface level until you get alternate names like Lake Eerie while we have Lake Erie or the alternate histories like Pandora or even Vortex

Now in our world, Sherlock is used sarcastically whenever someone points out something obvious. Danny might come from a world where Sherlock Holmes isn't as popular and the word "Detective" is used in place of Sherlock. Cue him using that word often and using the same context when dealing with Bruce or Tim to really sell that he's an alternate Ra's

"No shit, Detective"

The words slipped from the boy's lips in such a deadpan tone that for a second, Bruce half thought he imagined it. There was one thing to be told that an alternative version of Ra's al Ghul was caught battling it out with Green Arrow; it was another to be confronted with a teenager who spoke in the confusing lingo of his kids.

Bruce had seen Child-Ghul lose his mind over Go-Gurt alongside his friends- the assassins so dangerous they all earned the nickname of demons- when they happened to come by it in a regular grocery store. They had appeared like normal teenagers visiting the United States for the first time.

In fact, Bruce had yet to be aware that he was observing Ra's. He had been running around Gotham attempting to find the visitors and had accidentally overlooked them because of their genuine glee at finding tubed yogurt.

Even Dick and Damian had seen the same group but also dismissed them. It was strange to fit a version of Ra's Al Ghul, who was happily using hoverboards in the park while his friends recorded the great mass murder thousands of years old.

Tim was the only one who figured him out on sight. Bruce wonders if that was due to his son being incredibly intelligent or if Tim's hatred of Ra ran that deep. If it was the latter, Bruce would bet that even in his next life, Tim would clock Ra's in a crowd.

Red Robin had tracked Child-Ghul and his crew to an old cemetery, where they had been busy cleaning up gravestones. They had even fixed up broken stones and placed the proper offerings for each person.

How they knew which person followed which religion in life was a mystery.

Tim suspected they were attempting to rob another grave. Maybe they had known the people buried there- with Ra's being as young again- or they were trying to do some weird magic thing to save the planet again.

Bruce wasn't so sure.

He observed that the highly trained children cleaned up the cemetery and occasionally had random bursts of dance parties between the graves. He didn't think they were trying to steal anything- instead, they seemed to be suffering from mental illnesses.

Sometimes, one of them would speak to the air, asking it for an opinion on a new grave site. They might have been just regular people in their own world- Bruce had encountered civilian versions of himself and his kids before, so why no villains?- but the idea that Ra's Al Ghul had meta powers, any version, made him paranoid.

It didn't seem possible that Ra's didn't abuse his powers somehow. What could the strangers possibly be doing if it wasn't for world domination?

He got tired of watching and waiting for answers that weren't coming. Batman would force the children to tell him. He waited until the Child-Ghul wandered far away from his group, a bucket and brush in hand, and he arrived at a giant moss-covered stone.

Bruce watched as he greeted the air before sliding to his knees and scrubbing the moss away. His form was all wrong.

That was not a perfect crouch or position that would generate a fast reaction in case he needed it. In fact, the way the boy curved over the stone indicated he would suffer from backache if he sat like that for too long.

The Ra's Al Ghul would never have been caught dead in a similar weakened posture.

Did that mean this version of Ra's had no formal training?

"What do you think you're doing? " He growled, stepping out of the shadows. The boy jumped a good foot in the air, checking another box in his theory of not being trained.

He watched as Child-Ghul spun around, brush held in a sloppy throwing form, before freezing at the sight of him. At once, the tension eased out of his shoulders. He didn't seem afraid of Bruce, which was rather strange.

He built this entire persona to intimidate people at first glance. Yes, he had redesigned himself after learning kids were afraid of him, too, but the original design survived long enough for him to wield his fear tactic as a weapon.

"Ugh, what do you think you're doing walking around looking like that?" the boy sasses, gesturing at Bruce's whole being. "You look like a three-year-old drew you."

That was.....a rather creative insult.

"What are your plans here" He demands, ignoring the comment.

The boy raises a brow. His face twists into an expression he saw on Ra's Al Ghul before, and for a moment, Bruce wonders if Tim had made a mistake. How could Ra's look so humble. "What do you think I'm doing with a brush and a bucket of soap water?"

"You're cleaning the gravestone."

"No shit, Detective"

The phrase was like cold ice water pouring down his back. His pronunciation, facial expressions, and body language were exactly like Ra's.

Tim was right.

"Why?" He demands, stepping closer to tower over the boy.

"If you don't get out of my personal space, Imaginary Vampire Grandpa, we will have a problem." Child-Ghul hisses at him. For a moment Bruce is reminded of Damian.

"Try me."

Child-Ghul's grin is sharp and mad as he yells. "Escort this man to the door!"

Bruce raises his fist, ready for anything, only to literally feel invisible hands grab at him, dragging him out of the cemetery. He is flung out of the gate with the watching teenagers snickering.

Bruce bites back a curse. Of course, a child version of Ra's has ghosts working for him. He'll have to call the Justice League Dark for this. He hopes Zatanna is the one who answers and not her husband.

[eddywoww]

I’m such a sucker for ill timed kink discovery

I’m talking about Steve Has A Hair Pulling kink but doesn’t really know it. He’s always really liked when people play with his hair but

He gets close to Eddie. Because Eddie gets close to Robin and they have a bond that doesn’t make sense to Steve and he’s a little jealous over it but whatever, fine. It takes a few months for Steve to really warm up to Eddie.

And then it’s over.

They start cuddling. Only, it’s not cuddling? It isn’t. Steve just gets high with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan and Eddie and everyone is so nice and so chill and things aren’t weird like they used to be. So Steve relaxes, splays his feet out in Robin’s lap as he lays his head in Eddie’s lap. It’s a first and Eddie definitely freezes for a good few seconds when Steve does it but he lets it happen

He doesn’t touch Steve the first time.

He touches him the second time. When they’re all hanging out and the lights are low and Steve does it again and Robin only halfway gives him a weird look. It doesn’t stop Steve form blinking tired eyes up at Eddie, watching the way he gulps and hovers a hand over Steve’s face.

“I like when people pet my hair,” He says unhelpfully, so high he can barely concentrate. Eddie makes a soft noise and blinks down at him. “You should- you should do that.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate for long, his fingers carding through. Touching the scalp, nails catching.

It’s the first time Steve has ever broken out into goosebumps over something so simple.

And then it becomes a habit. Steve falls asleep in Eddie’s lap and it becomes a habit because Eddie can’t seem to stop and Steve can’t seem to stop him. So he sits in front of Eddie whenever he can. Lays all over him, high or not.

One day, it all goes to shit. He’s high again, head placed in Eddie’s lap. Ignoring whatever movie they’re watching in the dark. Eyes closed and mind drifting as Eddie pets him. Steve isn’t sure how his hands never get tired but he isn’t complaining.

Robin screams at an ill timed jump scare and of course, of course. The universe loves to mock Steve. Eddie’s hand clenched reflexively and he pulls, PULLS at Steve’s hair. Sudden and hard. Just yanks from the root and-

Steve feels it like a shock collar. Like a bolt of lightning. Right into his scalp, a shiver that works its way down his body. He’s half hard before he can really do anything about it. And of course he had to panic. What else can he do but bolt upright and off the couch? Stumbling toward the nearest bathroom before anyone can think much of it? Mumbles off an excuse about being dizzy.

Eddie is at the door once Steve gets out. Once he splashes his face with cold water and tries to wills away his sudden boner and WHY the FUCK he would get one in the first place. Past the whole “maybe I like guys” thing that he’s been ruminating on since freshmen year.

Eddie is so sweet to him, worried that Steve really got too high. He’s even ready with a bottle of water. It’s painful and it makes Steve feel even worse.

It isn’t supposed to happen again but it does. Yes, it does. The next time Steve gets high, he tries not to sit next to Eddie. They’re at the trailer this time. But Steve is Steve and high Steve loves attention. So he ends up laying all over Eddie again, eyes drifting shut.

It’s Eddie’s fault this time.

His fingers drift far into chestnut locks. Sinking deep, deeper than usual. Just to clench up and pull. It’s light, almost unnoticeable. But it’s enough for Steve’s eyes to pop open again. To look up at Eddie in wonder, mouth open on a silent noise. And Eddie is looking back, watching Steve with a deer in headlights expression. He goes “Huh.” Like he just figured something out, like he just solved a problem.

Steve should have seen it as a warning.

He also should have stopped using Eddie as a jungle gym.

The third time is even worse. Because they both know now, don’t they? But neither of them will talk about it. No, that would be too much.

Eddie pats his lap like an invitation and no one even thinks it’s weird. Steve doesn’t care if they do. He looks forward to these weekly movie nights more than ever now.

Robin isn’t on their couch tonight. She hasn’t given any inkling that she knows what’s going on but she probably suspects Steve has a crush. She won’t mention it, not yet. He loves that about her.

And Eddie. Eddie doesn’t even watch the movie, he watches Steve. As he plays with his hair, lips quirking when he finally wraps a strand around one finger and tugs at it and Steve’s back arches the tiniest bit and his blood drains south and he’s got his nails in the soft fabric of Jonathan’s couch.

“There you go,” Eddie whispers, just the tail end of some sort of praise and- and Steve can’t really take that, can he? He bites his bottom lip to try and hide the whine that wants to escape. Rubs his face against Eddie’s thigh. Feels the hard outline of his cock, so close to Steve’s face. Fuck. “I knew it.”

He knew it, he knew it. Fuck.

Nothing happens. Steve goes home with wide eyes and flushed cheeks and a stupid amount of horniness. Eddie smiles like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

The final time is the straw that breaks the camels back.

Steve sits at Eddie’s feet on the floor of his trailer. The rest of them are smoking but Steve isn’t this time. Doesn’t want to, doesn’t need it. Not when Eddie already has a hand in his hair and Steve feels boneless and wow, this is just normal now, isn’t it?

There’s little to no pretense once the lights go down. And the night is terrible and great in equal measure. Steve is so hard it hurts, head leaned back and eyes closed. Waiting for Eddie to give in and pull his hair again. He won’t do it. He won’t just-

Not until everyone leaves. Not until Robin rolls her eyes and huffs something like ‘finally’ on her way out.

Eddie pulls Steve into his lap and their lips meet and- and he grabs two fistfuls of hair and pulls hard. Hard enough for Steve to let out a groan that is embarrassingly loud. Loud enough that he hopes everyone is really gone.

Steve discovers a stupid little kink and Eddie gets a preppy little boyfriend.

[lnlightning81]

Positive P2 [LN4]

Summary : Surprising Lando after a race with the results to your pregnancy test

Pairing/s: Lando Norris x Reader

Word Count:

Warning/s: Pregnancy, Talk of not being able to have kids

Watching Lando with kids has always been a beautiful sight. However, watching Lando with Mila and Athena was a totally different experience. There was a different connection watching the two of them. Normally, kids cried when they saw Lando because their hero was right in front of them, but with Mila and Athena, he was just ‘Lala’ and not Lando Norris. 

The video of Lando playing with Mila when she was just a little baby throwing his phone about the place had started to circulate your social media; it only made your baby fever start to grow.

You were due to meet Lando at the paddock as he had gone a little early for the media and you just wanted to lie in but it wasn’t until you felt ill that you messaged Lando asking if he had time to quickly come back to the hotel after stopping at the shop for something. To which he replied obviously still in that state of life where you could ask him to murder someone, and he would. 

There was very little chance you could actually be pregnant with not only you and Lando being extremely careful but with you being told that there was little chance of you ever getting pregnant throughout your life but with your baby fever and how you were feeling everything pointed towards that actually maybe coming true. 

Lando had wanted to wait and see the results but you knew that he couldn’t or he’d get fined so you forced him out of the hotel room telling him that he’d be the first person to know. Except he wouldn’t be. If the test came back positive, you had the perfect way to tell him. 

But when you saw that positive result that’s when you panicked, you never thought you’d actually see the day when that test actually came back positive after many years of being told it would never happen. 

Now, standing in the Mclaren motorhome, you still hadn't told Lando the results. You didn’t want to stress him out before a race. Never mind a race when he was starting on the front row with the chance of winning but you did tell Zak knowing the perfect way to tell him after a good or bad race and hopefully he’d be happy with the news. 

Lando finished P2 just as he started. No one was getting past Max Verstappen any time soon, so it was basically a win for him, and you knew he’d say that when asked about it. Zak waved you over, and you walked over to the pit wall standing behind him as he placed his headphones over your ears and pressed the radio button for Lando’s car. Nodding to you with a smile 

“Hey baby. That’s a positive P2” You hummed, hoping he’d catch on to what you were saying without Sky or F1TV or any other showings catching it. 

“Positive?” He asked with a frown. You could hear the frown on his face

“Wait? What are you doing on the radio?” Now very confused as to everything 

“Yep. Positive P2” You smiled

“Zak let me tell you your position for the day” You looked at Zak, who was smiling at you 

“Oh my god, Y/N. This is brilliant. I love you so much!” He exclaimed 

“I’ll see you at the podium baby” You gave Zak his headphones back 

“Got a podium to get to. Let’s go” He smiled, and you walked with him. Zak’s more than just the CEO to you and Lando. He was always a phone call away if anything went wrong or if you didn’t travel out to a race and couldn’t get a hold of Lando the next best person to call was Zak because he’d always answer. 

Zak would invite you, Lando, Oscar, and Lily out for food whenever he got the chance or would send you little gifts during Christmas or your birthday. He was kinda like a father figure to you both. Standing watching the podium next to Zak, you could see how big the smile on Lando’s face was compared to normal. 

Meeting Lando back in his driving room, you were instantly wrapped in a hug with his hands landing on your stomach as he kissed your neck from behind 

“I can’t believe it, baby. You’re serious, right? We’re going to have a baby? I got the message, right?” He asked, and you nodded 

“I’m very serious. We're going to have a baby. I’m so glad you got that message, though. I was a little worried you wouldn’t understand what I was saying” You smiled, turning in his arms as he kissed you properly this time. 

“Oh my god, a little baby. Oh love you’re parent’s. They’re gonna be so happy they’re getting a grandbaby” Lando was very excited as he basically jumped around the room like a little kid in a sweet shop. 

“If it’s okay with you, I don’t want to tell anyone for a few months” you whispered, sitting down on the couch in his driver's room. Lando looked over at you

“Whatever you want” He smiled, and you nodded 

“After being told I probably would never have kids, I don’t want to tell people. There’s a risk that everything might go wrong and I don’t want to tell everyone we’re having a kid to be reminded that actually we aren’t” You explained quietly and he wrapped you in a hug 

“Whatever you want to do we will do darling but I do know that I love you very much and whatever happens will never change my mind but we’ll do it together” He smiled kissing you around your face causing you to giggle from his stubble tickling your skin 

Tag List

@bearryyy

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@evie-119

[unspeakable-imagination]

Couch Cuddles || Logan Howlette/Wolverine

Kinda a drabble, not to long.

My masterlist is here

Cw:lumberjack logan even though it's not really mentioned, lots of fluff/cuddles, mentions of sex but nothing happens, use of tabacco and alcohol, established relationship, use of petnames, fem reader

SEND IN YOUR ASK REQUESTS, ILL MAKE MORE CONTENT

"I'll be back soon," Logan said as he placed a warm kiss to the top of your temples. "I need to go to work. You know where to find me, right, princess?" You nodded silent.

His eyebrows creased and his lips turned to a small frown. You hardly caught it, but you did."I love you, Logan. Drive safe, okay?"

His mood had shifted the moment the first three words left your lips, and he already felt better. "I will, baby girl." Before you knew it, he was out the door and you were sitting on the sofa, curled in a blanket in the cabin he's built by hand for the two of you.

You'd been living together for a year, and dating for two. Maybe it was a little fast to move in, but he pulled you out of water when it felt like tou were drowning.You were stuck in living a life of manotany and Logan was always looking for some way to make his own exiting. And somehow- he figured that was you.

You weren't sure why- as you really thought you wanted different things than him. You wanted to settle down, maybe even have kids. You wanted to dance in a kitchen and shoo a cat off the table, and watch your kids throw sticks for a dog to chase.

You wanted a life of meangful relationships, not just the one you viewed with Logan. You weren't even sure if you two were considered dating.

You'd never made it official, just kind of- moved in. Sure, you were intimate, you'd discussed being exclusive, and agreed that while you were together- it would just be a simply monogamous relationship, but what kind of relationship was it?

You bristled at the idea of it simply being a situationship. You loved him and the idea of that almost made your heart shatter. Maybe you'd have to talk to him when he came home.

To fill your time, you opted to just sit with a warm cup of tea- you weren't sure what kind, you hadn't paid attention, and a book. It was some silly fantasy story about mutants, monsters, and fairy's. Midevil monster hunters, swords and magic. The white-haired protagonists adopting a cheeky blonde princess and teaching her the ways of his guild.

And you got a good portion through it, with good breaks between meals and some normal daily activities, basic cleaning, laundry, and putting something in the oven for when Logan did finally come home.

The day passed you quickly and by the time you were taking dinner from the oven, a simple cottage pie, Logan's truck rumbled as it pulled to the window and parked in its rightful spot. You watched him run his hands through his hair, you noticed the look on his face, and you watched him light his cigar before he opened the truck door and heave his way out.

Your eyes followed him as he walked past the window , towards the doorway, and lost him as he entered. You quickly averted you gaze and resorted to dishing a heaping pile of the hot meal into two bowls. Grabbing them and weaving past the chairs of the dining table, you brought them to the coffee table where Logan had sat down.

"Welcome home, Lo." It was quiet but you knew he heard you with how he gently perked. He took a deep breath and it was like a calm wave washed over him, the closer you got.

"Hey, darlin'," he started. He watched you place the two bowls onto the table and sit down next to him. He pulled the cigar from his lips and blew his smoke away.

"What are you thinking tonight? Need a drink or some soda? Water?"

"Just a beer is okay, please, love?" You were quick to get it, and your own tall glass of milk. You popped the cap from the bottle and returned to his side. She was already scarfing down his food, starved from the tirless hours he'd been working at the mill. You placed the bottle on a coaster and took your seat beside him.

You took a drink of your milk before you grabbed your own bowl, but paused before you ate. Logan put his fork in his bowl and grabbed your knee, pulling your leg to drape across his own. It made your stomach flutter, and your heart quickened at the smallest but of affection.

Logan was craving your touch most of the day. He felt so desperate for a good day, a real day, a long day with you. He'd been so busy at the mill that he'd hardly had a day off and was itching to spend time with you aside from curling up, wrapping his arms around your waist as you sleep.

He missed hearing your laugh, and missed your smile, even the small ones. He'd missed being around for more than sleep and mornings. Sure, he'd come home and snake his tounge or hips between tough thighs, but that's not what he needed. He needed you. He needed your words.

Eating was mostly silent, peaceful. You'd asked the normal questions, and ge did too. How was your day, what did you do, what did you eat, I missed you.

Logan had long finished his food as you sat there, finishing your last bites. Patting your belly, you sighed. "I'm sure full. Do tou need any more, Lo?"

"No, baby. Let me grab thoes." He'd stood and grabbed both your bowls and him empty bottle, taking them to the kitchen and putting them in the sink and garbage.

He returned and sat down, pulling you closer to his hip."Want to watch a movie, darlin'?" It was a simple ask- but it was the way he asked it thag had you turning to putty in his arms. His lips rested against your forehead, his nose in your hair. He took a deep breath, humming at how good you smelled to him

"No, I just wanna hold you." he was sure he felt his heart stop. That was all he needed from you. He just needed your attention, your love. "But Lo," you hummed. "I need to talk to you about something. Oh no. Oh god no, we're you going to leave him? The one relationship he's had successfully- and he was worried he'd loose you. He pulled his fingers from your hair and leaned backwards onto the couch, but still facing you.

You crawled onto his lap, straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your face buried in his chest. What?

"What you wanna talk about, baby girl?" He said, his hands sliding up your legs and settling around your waist, locking his fingers together to hold you.

"Us," you said, your breah came out shaky, as if you were gonna cry. You raised your head from his chest and looked at him, one right land moving to cup the side of his face. "What are we, Lo?" You sounded so meek and nervous. "I'm so scared that this is just some situationship and i-"

He interrupted you. "What, a situationship? Baby, your going to be my wife." Your heart skipped a beat. Did you hear him right? You hadn't even established dating? Had you missed something

"I- I what?" He groaned. "Fuck, I was going to wait to ask you." He easily lifted you with one of the arms he ticked under you thigh and fished his other hand in his pocket. He'd pulled out a small green box. "It's not all that fancy." Your hand left his face and covered your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

"Logan," you softly gasped. Once you were sat back comfortably on his lap he opened the ring box in front if you. It was a thing, shiny silver ring with a pretty diamond set into the band. It was simple, charming, and it glimmered. "Logan I love it."

"Hold on, baby. I havnt even gotten the chance you say it. [Name], will you marry me? Can we live the rest of our lives together? I need you to be more than my girlfriend. I need you to be my wife. I need tou to be the mother of our babies." He looked down to the ring, then back up at your face, tears freely flowing from your eyes.

"Yes logan, God yes. I want to marry you, I can't wait. I can't wait for us to have a family." He grinned and took the ring out, grabbing your hand and placing it on your ring finger. You leaned down, curling into his chest, listening to his heart. You sighed.

"I love you, my [Name]."

[prettyforwoso]

Intertwining Legs

Alexia Putellas x reader smut

MASTERLIST

Warnings/ Summary: Soft needy smut, dom!alexia, sub!reader, fingering, scissoring

a/n: I've been gone. But now I'm back! HAhaha. I wrote this bc I fear there is a scissoring lesbian smut shortage-and we cannot be having that!

enjoy :)

The feeling between your legs has only been growing over the past few days. You were desperate for your girl, yearning for her to make you feel good. 

Alexia would usually never hesitate to give you exactly what you want, never wanting anything more than to get you in the headspace that you needed to be in. However, recently it's been different, with you still recovering from a recent illness, Alexia has become more hesitant about how she handles you- not wanting to push you too hard in your current state. You tried and tired to reassure her that you were fine, but it was no use. 

You eventually gave up, and with this new mindset, you acquired a new found frustration. You would only admit to yourself that maybe a little of this frustration was completely made up and in reality, an elaborate play to get more of Alexia's attention as she tried to figure out what was wrong. Little did you know- Alexia was very much aware of this too, however played along, with the intent of not upsetting her baby. 

Alexia knew you needed something to ground you at the moment, something to blame your anger and frustration on. In reality, it was clear to Alexia that there was a lot more going on in your head. You had been home, sick for a week, with nothing to do, bored out of your own mind. You were recovering now, but still not able to go back to training for a few days. In the back of her mind, she felt guilty that she wasn’t entertaining you, but she knew it was for the best. 

Your illness was easy to blame on your body being overworked and you not resting enough, you mostly just had a headache and sleepiness- it doesn't take a scientist to work that out. Therefore, Alexia didn’t have to worry about getting sick. She showed you all the love she could that didn't risk dangering your delicate form. 

You felt otherwise, and you made that as clear as you could over the past few days. 

“Are you coming to bed bebita?” Alexia speaks from the bed. She has her head in a book, as if to do more than just read it. You walk around the room finishing your bedtime routine. You stand and face her, dressed in your pajama top and underwear. “Yes… I can’t find my pants” 

Alexia breaks contact with her book to look at you when you speak however, doesn’t reply. 

You soon give up on the search, climbing into bed and taking your underwear off on the way. You curl up next to Alexia and she pulls her arm around you. “What are you reading baby?” You ask, looking up at her from her side. She looks down at you and presses a kiss to your forehead. She opps to not answer your question with words, instead closing the book over her thumb marking the page and shows you the cover. It’s one of the many books you got her for christmas, she’s been slowly making her way through them all. 

This kind of domesticity wasn’t abnormal in your relationship, Alexia usually stayed awake longer than you, working and then later coming and joining you in bed, or staying up reading in bed, with you wrapped up on her side. You are usually quick to roll over and fall asleep, usually taking Alexia arm with you and holding the side of your face, laying against it, or having her wrap it around your face and stroking your cheek with her thumb.

Tonight wasn't any different. Your eyes fell shut as Alexia turned the pages of her novel, too deep in the narrative to switch off and go to sleep. 

You were in and out of a shallow sleep by the time Alexia breaks from her book. Your delicate snores lead her towards you as she folds the corner of her page and closes the book, leaving it on the bedside table. She wraps her arms around your much smaller figure, pulling you closer to her and she shoves her face into your neck, engulfing herself in your scent. Your skin is smooth as she runs her nose along your neck. “Mhmm I love you so much my girl” 

She is aware you are asleep, however always says it anyway. You make muffled sleeping sounds as she moves around behind you, getting comfortable. You're now slowly becoming more awake, more awake and more aware of her. She's watching you, hovering above you and watching you. 

You crack your eyes open and look at her, vision still foggy from your state of sleep. “Eres tan hermosa mi amor” She says, breaking the silence. You roll your eyes and she pouts. “Where is my babygirl's smile huh?” She teasingly asks. “Alexia, I was sleeping” You joke back, the smile slowly creeping into the side of your mouth. Alexia's face gets closer as she brings her lips to yours, placing a soft kiss on your tender lips. “Wake up for me” she breaks the kiss. “Please, let me touch you.”

You're not sure what about Alexia's book that had got her in this mindset, but you had just woken up, and it was the middle of the night. Right now all you wanted from Alexia was her own body, her own hands and face. You needed it, close to you. 

Alexia's large hands are soon slowly rolling you over so you are laying flat on top of her, facing the ceiling. She shuffles up the bed so her upper body rests in the pillows as her face returns to your neck. You're starting to squirm on top of her, your legs falling open. “Alexia, baby” you breathe out.

“Shhh, you’re okay, ten paciencia mi amor” she whispers in your ear. Almost in the way you would expect her to talk to a pet. 

Her hands are beginning to wonder by the time her lips leave your neck, allowing you to turn your face into her. You're not wearing any underwear, just your top. You wouldn't be surprised if Alexia could feel your wetness dripping down onto her own core. 

And she absolutely could. It only had her more frantic with her hands, desperate to reach your core as soon as possible, not forgetting to give your nipples some love. 

Alexia was really no stranger to your boobs, frequently having one in her mouth, sometimes even falling asleep sucking on one of your nipples, molding the other one with her hand. 

One of Alexia's hands is soon to arrive where you are desperate for it, the other playing with your hard nipples. “Can I touch you here baby” she asks gently, as if it was your first time all over again. “Si us plau” you reply. Your attempt to speak the Catalans langage has always been a turn on for her, and in this moment, motivation.

Her long skilled fingers make themselves known at your core, moving from your clit to your hole consistently, making you squirm more. Her middle finger dips inside and you moan. Alexia smiles widely. Her finger moves from her knuckle, up and down inside you until you begin to shake, her palm pushing against your clit and she moves her hand with her consistent motions. The rhythm of it all begins to form the feeling in your stomach. “Alexia, oh fuck baby. I’m gonna come” You speak into her side, attempting to hide your face. “Whenever you’re ready princess, come for me” she answers. The hand on your boobs now comes down to hold your legs open and your warmth begins to take over. You grab a hold of her thick forearm with both hands as your body goes limp, you breathe through it like Alexia taught you to. 

“Good girl, good baby” she coos in your ear as you ride through your high. You're a moaning mess, breathing hard fast. “Shhhh, breathe for me, you’re ok baby. Et tinc”

As you begin to calm down, you realise that Alexia is no longer under you, now between your legs, stripped and rubbing your thighs with her hands.

You're too soon back to a normal state, eyes open and mind working again. “There's my pretty girl” Alexia says, coming up to your face and placing a small gentle peck on your lips. You simply squirm and moan in response- not abnormal for you in your post blitz. 

Alexia picks up your hips and tilts them a little more upward, making sure that you are still comfortable. Suddenly she is swinging her leg over yours and placing her own core against yours. 

This act of pure intimacy is something you absolutely yearned for. You loved when Alexia would strap you, filling you up, but there was something so special about interwinding your legs with each other and feeling each other in a most intimate way. 

Your head falls back into her pillow as she begins to roll her hips against yours. It was so gentle. 

Her head is soon coming to lay on your chest as the two of you create a rhythm of grinding on each other's cores. You hold one another as if this was nothing more than a soft cuddle after a long day. 

You both synchronize your breathing and moans as if neither one of you is in control, both just simply enjoying each others bodies. “Oh fuck, fuck baby. T'estimo tant” You say between breaths. “Jo també t'estimo, my sweet, sweet girl”

A new kiss is introduced, it's messy, as is her grinding against you. Lips and tongue with a mind of their own as the two of you put all of your focus in helping the other reach a climax. 

It’s coming. You can feel it in her legs. 

“Fuck, Oh my god, eghgh” Alexia looks down between your legs, the two of you making an absolute mess of one another. “Fuck are you coming baby? Come with me. Please, please my girl. Let me feel you” She trails off as she begins to shake. 

Your head falls back and she guides you through your second fall of the night. It's bigger, more high, you can’t keep your eyes open. You can hear Alexia as she screams through her own high, moving her body to sit up on your core, still grinding. She squeezes your ankle and pushes your legs more open, desperate to get more from you and she rides her high. 

The two of you soon fall quiet, the only sound in the air being you trying to catch your breath. Alexia lays back on your chest, your hands finding her hair. “Déu, t'estimo nena meva”. She turns her head and kisses your stomach. “I love you too” You speak back, looking down at her. “And thank you for looking after me” 

She looks up at you and smiles “Always.

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?

wc. 3.5k

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread

a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it

previous part / next part / series masterlist

“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.

she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."

“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.” 

nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”

she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.

in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.

initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school. 

then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?

nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.

her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone. 

and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?

with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.

“–and that’s it basically.”

shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room. 

“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.

“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.

except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.

shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.

“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”

“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.

almost.

nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.

“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.

“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.

there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.

shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen. 

all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.

nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.

it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.

“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”

“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse. 

gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).

“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.

nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.

“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.

“to record us study! it’s motivational.”

“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves. 

“merry christmas!” 

nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.

“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.

“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.

“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”

“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.

she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.

so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.

there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.

the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.

nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.

“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.

“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.

“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief. 

“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.

“take your go yu.”

“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.

“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.

nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room. 

we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.

“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.

“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.

“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.

“don’t make me compliment him.”

“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”

utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”

you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself 

“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”

utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.

“you’re such an asshole.”

shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”

nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.

although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right. 

nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.

“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”

geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”

“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”

the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”

you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”

“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.

“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.

“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.

“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”

“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”

“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.

“are they staying together?”

“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.

“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”

“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.

nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.

“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.

he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–

“satoru.”

gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.

although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.

“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”

“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away. 

like that could’ve changed the outcome.

slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.

he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.

or maybe he could keep it.

gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen

this tag list is insane ty all for the support

[strang3lov3]

GameStop

Summary: Mall Rats 4! (Can be read alone or, catch up with the mallrats in my masterlist) Joel tells you not to fuck with the Nintendo he stole from GameStop. His one rule. You fuck with it. That’s okay, though. Joel makes you play Mario with his fingers knuckle deep inside you.

Warnings: JOEL IS WEARING GRAY SWEATPANTS THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL🚨‼️ fingering, teasing, edging, orgasm denial blowjobs, unprotected piv, creampie, jjoel is so tender and such a dick, arguing, inglewood up to no good, domestic moments, minor injuries, when will these two fucking kiss!?? Idk

W/C: 4.6k

A/N: thank you very much @papipascalispunk i appreciate you taking the time to edit this. I love you so much. did you know that? And everyone else, do you know how much I love y’all for reading and engaging? I do. In case you didn’t know already 🥰

Joel stands in front of your house early afternoon on Saturday, a box of cords and plastic in one hand as he urgently knocks on your door, “Open up,” he barks, “This shit’s heavy.”

“Fuck,” you groan, walking up to your front door wearing nothing but an ill-fitting t-shirt and some old boxers. You can see Joel waiting impatiently through the window. You open the door and squint at Joel, the daylight too bright for your eyes, “What do you want, Joel?”

“Need to use your TV,” he demands, stepping inside your home and placing a hand on your hip to move you aside, “Move.” 

“Why?”, you resist.

Joel motions toward his box with an annoyed expression on his face and your eyes light up. “Oh yeah,” you say, leading Joel to your living room where he sits in front of your old and boxy television, flipping up panels and tinkering with buttons before plugging in cords, “Can I play too? Will you show me how?”

“If you listen to me, maybe,” Joel mumbles as he’s setting up the console before turning to you, “Are you gonna be good and listen to me?”

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Figures.”

You didn’t listen yesterday, either. You never do. 

-

Something had caught your eye and you went ahead of Joel, something he absolutely hates. He tells you your place is next to him or behind him. He leads. You follow.

“Would you quit fuckin’ wanderin’, Inglewood?”, Joel hissed at you in the second level of the mall, “I give ya an inch, ya take a mile.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why do you call me that?”

“Cause you’re always up to no good.” 

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“I know you don’t,” Joel sighed.

An odd clicking noise startled you both. It wasn’t quite that signature sound of a clicker, but it was enough to set you both off. You turned to Joel with wide eyes, and he reflexively pulled you close, one hand over your mouth and his other arm wrapped around your waist. Behind me, he mouthed. 

You nodded and took your place behind Joel, heart pounding in your chest. He walked forward slowly before stopping, pulling out his gun and his flashlight. In front of him was a dark silhouetted figure, something he couldn’t quite make out. It stood in front of a store with a broken sign, white and red glass lettering shattered. As he tiptoed closer with you following close behind, his eyes began to piece more things together. The figure was unmoving, and upon closer inspection it looked to be wearing almost…tactical gear? Was it FEDRA? He wondered what the clicking noise was. Probably just the mall deteriorating. If there were infected in the mall, they would have shown themselves by this point.

The figure stayed still, unmoving. Finally, Joel saw it. On the figure’s chest read, ‘Call of Duty: Out October 29, 2003’. Joel let out a breath of relief and put his gun down, “False alarm,” he said. “Wait.”

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked as he took quick steps toward the unmarked store. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice, “Get your ass over here. Follow me. First good thing in this godforsaken mall. Do you know what this is?”

“You know I don’t know what this is.”

Joel explained that it was a GameStop. They used to sell video games and stuff, had all sorts of fun things. He looked like a kid in a candy shop, stealing consoles and cartridges and gushing about how much he loved these games long ago. 

When you and Joel had returned from the mall, he practically sprinted into Ellie’s room, setting up their shared TV with a PlayStation and introducing her to some games. Ellie was ecstatic, and Joel knew she and the TV would be inseparable. 

-

Which leads him here, to your house, in front of your TV. 

“So I take it Ellie’s excited about the games and stuff you got her?”, you ask amused.

Joel fumbles with a controller to a Nintendo Entertainment System. “Big time,” he says. “They’re attached at the hip. So I’m commandeering your TV for today.”

“You could’ve asked, you know,” you tease, “I would’ve given it to you, asshole.”

“Don’t need you to give me nothin’. Just here to use your TV for a bit,” as he draws the curtains in your room, turns on your TV and adjusts the input, then sits back on your couch, legs outstretched on your coffee table, “It’s more fun when I take it from ya, anyway.”

You wonder if Joel gets physically ill at the thought of being polite, being kind to you. Nothing’s ever easy with him. He’s always ready to argue, ready to instigate. You roll your eyes, then leave Joel to take a shower and get dressed. You’re not sure what you were planning on doing on this Saturday, but video games with Joel seems to be your fate. 

By the time you have showered, Joel has already been playing for nearly 2 hours. You dress yourself in some comfy sweatpants and a hoodie, expecting to hunker down in front of the TV with Joel all day. You can hear the soft music from the video game from your room and Joel’s strings of expletives, or his cheers, depending on what’s happening in the game. You make a couple of sandwiches, some sliced apples, and pour a couple of glasses of water before you greet Joel in the living room. Standing in front of the TV, you watch as Joel tries to continue playing. There’s a little guy wearing a red hat, jumping over blocks and stomping on mushrooms. He makes a cute little ‘boing’ noise when he jumps, and the music playing in the background is playful, melodic. 

“Sweetheart, y’make a better door than a window. Get out of the way,” he gruffs. Joel’s got some fucking nerve today. He could have just kindly asked you to move. Tauntingly, you wiggle your ass in front of him, so he reaches over the coffee table and smacks it, “What’d I say about listening? Do you wanna play the game or not?” With Joel’s eyes still transfixed on the TV in front of you, you sit down next to him and place your two plates on the coffee table. “Everyday it’s somethin’ with you. Always tryin’ to get under my skin, always-”, Joel’s voice trails off as he glances at his plate, “Did you make me a sandwich?” 

You shrug, “You’re extra cranky today. Figured you could use a snack.”

“I’m not cranky,” Joel argues, “And I don’t need you makin’ me any snacks. Can make my own food.”

“Okay,” you say, eating your own food, “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna shove it down your throat.”

Joel stays focused on his game until he hears the crunch of you biting into a slice of apple. “Wait, are those apple slices?”, he asks in a low tone. 

“Mhm.”

“You didn’t happen to cut any up for me, did you?”

“I did. Sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on top,” you smile proudly.

You watch Joel grumble to himself and play the game silently until he beats the level he’s on, then he pauses the game and sets his controller down. He picks up his plate of food and eats a couple of apple slices before inspecting his sandwich, “Did you poison this?”

“No, not the sandwich. The apples, yes. Don’t you taste the rat poison?” 

Joel rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his sandwich, “Gonna have to try harder than that, sweetheart. Up the dose next time. Tasty sandwich, though.”

“Noted,” you smile. Joel smiles too, almost imperceptibly, but you see it, the sparkle in his eyes and the way his face lit up when you told him you sliced up some apples for him too. 

“Tell me about your game.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, “It’s Mario. You don’t know Mario?”, and you shake your head no. “Jesus…you age me,” Joel takes another bite of his sandwich before continuing, “Mario’s a video game. Super Mario Brothers. He has a brother, Luigi. They’re plumbers and they fight Bowser to save Princess Peach. So that’s what I’m doin’ here,” Joel motions to the TV, “Savin’ Peach. Eventually.”

“Is it hard?”, you ask. 

“Kinda. Haven’t played in forever. But Tommy and I’d play all the time. Were always fightin’ over the damn Nintendo,” Joel chuckles, “Drove Mom fuckin’ nuts.”

“Maybe we should invite him over then,” you muse. 

“Nah,” Joel says, “Just me and you today.”

You smile, “Just us?” 

Joel nods, finishing the last of his sandwich and his apple slices, “Unfortunately.” He stretches his legs and his arms out long, then rubs his soft belly with a groan. “You’re trouble,” he tells you, “Tryna’ make me fat. I’m gonna go home and change into something cozier - jeans are fuckin’ tight.” 

“Bet I could make them tighter,” you bite your lip and nudge his thigh. 

“That’s a nice offer. You’re a charmer, Inglewood. Maybe later.” You huff as Joel picks up both of your plates and walks them to your kitchen sink, scrubbing and drying each one before pulling on his jacket. He walks back over to where you sit on the couch and points to the TV and his Nintendo, “Do not touch this,” he says, “It doesn’t have a memory card. So if you fuck with it, my progress is gone. Don’t unplug nothin’, don’t touch the TV, don’t–”.

“What if I–”.

Joel doesn’t let you get another word out, “Nope. Don’t do that either. Just leave it be, sit pretty and behave yourself. I’ll be back soon.”

You scoff and cross your arms as Joel leaves while staring at the paused screen of Joel’s game, then flicker your eyes lower to the controller Joel left on the coffee table. He didn’t say anything about playing the game. What’s the worst that could happen?

You reach for the controller and begin messing with the buttons, playing with the D-pad until the screen changes and you press ‘Start Game’.

The game starts. It catches you off guard. You fumble with the buttons until you figure out how to make Mario move, how to make him jump. A couple times you hit an angry looking mushroom and he dies. You snicker to yourself. Figures. Before you know it, you’ve passed Level 1-1 and you’re onto Level 1-2.

Level 1-2 comes and goes, and then Joel’s back at your door. You pause the game as he lets himself in. You wear a mischievous smile when you see him in his gray sweats and a t-shirt – your weakness. You can see the outline of his dick in those pants, and it sends a pang of arousal to your core. “Well don’t you look handsome,” you purr. 

“Pipe down, horndog,” Joel sits down on the couch next to you. Before he can reach for the controller, you slide your hand over one of his thick thighs and palm his bulge, then slip your hand under the waistband of his pants and play with his cock. He sighs as you stroke him, his sweet sounds getting you all hot and bothered. His cock is thick and warm, half hard and growing harder, but he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. “Later,” he reminds you, “C’mon. I know you can wait. I don’t have much of the game left to play.”

“Okay,” you mumble. You scoot closer to Joel as he picks up the controller, wrapping your arm around his and resting your head on his bicep. You squeeze your thighs together tightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure at your core. He tries to shake you off of him, but you don’t budge. “I’m cold, Joel,” you protest.

“So get a blanket. I ain’t your heater,” he complains, but you feel him relax with your touch, snuggling up to you a little closer like maybe he’s cold too, “God, you make me nuts.”

You say nothing as Joel reaches for the controller, presses a couple buttons before the game starts again. He starts playing, then squints and furrows his brows. “Woah, woah, woah,” he says, “This ain’t right. What - why - what happened? Did you touch this? Tell me you didn’t touch this.”

“I didn’t touch it,” you lie. 

Joel turns to you and glares, “What. Did. You. Do.”

“I tried out your game,” Joel continues glaring at you and you raise your arms in surrender, “What?”

Joel cups your cheeks in both of his big hands and shakes your head gently, “Why would you do that?” 

“You told me not to unplug anything. I didn’t unplug anything.”

“I also told you not to touch anything,” Joel groans, “Do you know how long it took me to beat those levels?”

“Just pick up where you left off, Joel.”

“I told ya, it doesn't work like that. No memory card, no progress. I have to start over now,” Joel whines, “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“Beats me,” you say, “But–”, you take one of Joel’s hands from his controller and suck his fingers before slipping it under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Now we can get down to brass tacks. Hmm?”

“One rule,” Joel hisses as cups your mound, “I gave you one fuckin’ rule.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But now that you’re not playing Mario anymore, you can make me come. And then I’ll make you come. And you’ll forget you were ever mad at me.”

Joel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to you, his eyes now mischievously lit up. “You’re right,” he says, “I’m not playing Mario anymore. You are.” He places the controller in your hands, “I told you I wanted to beat the game, and mayb then I’d fuck ya. So now you’re gonna get me back to where I was so I’ll finish up the game, and maybe, maybe after that, I’ll fuck you. Cause I’m not doin’ all of this again. I’ve got other games I wanna play too.”

“Piece of cake,” you reply confidently. Though really, playing Mario is harder than it looks.

“Oh, really? Is it that easy?”, Joel says, raising his eyebrows in amusement at your confidence as you nod, “If ya say so. I thought you said it’s harder than it looks. Whatever. Go on, then.” Situating yourself next to Joel, you adjust your grip on the controller. Joel’s hand is still beneath your pants, fingers resting against your lips. You look at him, wondering if he’ll pull his hand away. “You put it there,” he says. “It’s stayin’.”

Whatever. You start the game feeling confident in yourself, and then Mario hits a mushroom and he shrinks. And then he hits another mushroom, and he dies. Joel hums in amusement and you shove your elbow into his side. “I didn’t say anything,” he smirks.

It takes you about ten minutes to get the hang of it, but eventually you do. When you start a new level, Joel presses two of his fingers against your pussy and it startles you. Mario hits a turtle and he shrinks again. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”

Dragging his fingers up and down your folds at a leisurely pace, Joel shrugs, “Nothin’.” He’s definitely not doing “nothing”. It’s getting harder to focus now, and you’re making mistakes, getting hit by enemies, missing those little mushroom power ups that come at you every so often. You huff in frustration, and Joel chuckles to himself, “You suck, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, Joel.”

He presses the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, pushes inside before pulling his finger back out and dragging it up to your clit, smirking when your breath hitches in your throat, “Do you need some help? Pointers, maybe?”

“No,” you grit, “Shut up, Joel.”

“Hmm, alright,” he hums, his thick fingers now circling your sensitive bud. You can feel his intense gaze on you as you play the game, squashing Mario’s enemies to the best of your ability, but you were right the first time, it’s harder than it looks. Joel turns his attention back to the TV, “Hit that box with the question mark.” You raise your eyebrow in suspicion. It’s probably a trap. With Joel, it’s always a trap. “Watch what happens,” he instructs, so you hit the box and a flower emerges. Joel tells you to jump on it, so you do. Warily, though. Mario changes outfits. “There you go. Now if you press B,” he taps the other button on the controller, “You can shoot those guys with a fireball. Try it out.” 

Mario does in fact shoot fireballs at the enemies. This advantage makes the game come along smoother, so Joel ups the ante, drawing tight circles into your clit. “Joel,” you moan, “Quit it. You’re distracting me.”

“Thought you wanted me to make you come,” Joel taunts.

“I do, but not like thi–fuck–Joel, stop.”

“Tough luck,” Joel responds, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

You do your best to ignore the sensation of Joel touching you, but it’s hard. He knows exactly where to touch you, how to touch you to make you squirm and moan for him. You have to fight yourself to keep your eyes from rolling back when Joel pushes two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out for a moment before abruptly curling them upward, hitting that sweet spot he knows and loves. “Jesus, Joel,” you moan, accidentally pressing the lower end of the D-pad. On the TV, Mario slides down a pipe and is brought to a new area. He’s able to run across the top of the screen, then finds an area with a bunch of pipes called the Warp Zone. This changes the game. You’re able to skip levels, making this whole thing go by even quicker. You’ll be on your way to fuck town in no time.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna figure that out,” Joel rubs his thumb over your clit as he fucks you with his two middle and ring fingers. You’re able to find a couple more pipes that allow you to go to Warp Zones, which doesn’t require quite as much focus on the screen. You allow yourself to savor the way Joel touches you, that warmth building up in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you moan. That familiar edge begins to creep up just as you’re finishing another level. Your breathing quickens, your pussy dripping and gushing with every movement of Joel’s thick fingers. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–”.

“Thanks sweetheart. That was a big help,” Joel yanks the controller from you with his free hand, then pulls the other away from your core. Now that you’ve gotten him to where he left off in the game, he focuses all of his attention on the TV, as if he was never touching you. 

“Are you serious?”, you’re in disbelief but Joel doesn’t answer, “Joel, I was about to–”.

“I know.”

You scoff, “Fuck you, man.”

“Yeah, I know you wanna. But I told you, you gotta wait til I’m done. You’re very forgetful, you know that?”

Frustrated, you shove your hand under your sweats and pick up where Joel left off. He clears his throat, “You can play with your pussy, or I can. Pick one but we’re not doin’ both. It’s up to you.” 

Jesus fucking Christ. This is bullshit. Joel can take control of your TV, but not your pleasure. You watch him in astonishment, how he pays you no mind as he plays the game. His eyes are glazed over and his lips slightly parted, deep in focus. It’s like you’re not even there. You lower your eyes from his face to his lap where his fingers move deftly, still slick and shiny with your juices. His thumbs dart back and forth over the D-pad and the buttons, and you wish he was still touching you like that. Expertly, with dedication and precision.  And then it catches your eye – the tent in his sweatpants, that little spot of dampness where his head rests against the fabric. He’s fucking rock hard from playing with you, leaking precome. You’re impressed with Joel’s ability to ignore his own arousal. Good for him. You, however, won’t ignore it. 

In a swift maneuver, too quick for Joel to even process, you pull down his sweats and let his cock spring free, setting the waistband under his heavy balls. You don’t even think, you just do it – lifting up his arm, you dive under and grip the base of his cock. You guide his tip to your mouth, swirling your tongue around his swollen head before letting it part your lips. Joel groans, “Think you can play dirty too, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against him. 

“Knock yourself out,” he tells you, “You’re forgettin’ I have something you don’t – self control, my darlin’.”

You don’t care. This is more for you than it is for him, anyway. You haven’t gotten to taste him yet and it’s been on your mind. He tastes heady, salty, and slightly sweaty on your tongue. He’s warm and thick, you like the way his cock feels in your mouth. His smooth skin, how he squirms when you slide his cock to the back of your throat. 

Joel groans as you work his shaft, one hand gripping his base, the other fondling his balls. You hum against him, sending vibrations down his shaft. He rests the sides of his hands on your head as he plays with the controller, pushing you further down on his cock. “Last level,” he tells you. You suck him mindlessly as he plays, listening to Joel hissing expletives. You smirk with him in your mouth knowing which of his curses are directed at you and which are directed at the TV. 

Joel’s cock stiffens and twitches, he’s getting closer. You know it and so does he. “You know,” he says in a soft, warning tone, “If ya make me come, you’re shit outta luck. Can’t fuck you.”

Oh, shit. You weren’t even thinking about that. You pull your mouth off of him instantaneously, smacking your head against his controller and sending it flying out of his hands. “Fuck,” Joel barks. 

The controller lands upside down on the corner of your coffee table, the buttons hitting the edge just so, and Joel watches in horror as Mario disappears from the TV and is replaced by the main menu. 

You rub your head where you hit it on the controller, but Joel is no longer staring at the TV in disbelief. Instead, he’s looking at you. “Shit. I’m sorry, Joel,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry.”

You expect Joel to be angry like usual, but he instead pulls your hand away from your scalp, lowers you so he can check the area you hit and give it a kiss, then lifts your chin back up while rubbing your bump. “It was an accident,” he speaks soothingly, “Mario can wait. Are you hurting?”

“Not terribly,” you tell him. And it’s the truth. 

“No? You sure?” You shake your head no and Joel nods. He rubs your head for a little bit longer, his big brown eyes are soft and sweet and worrisome. The kindest he’s ever looked at you, kindest he’s ever been to you. And all you had to do was smack your head on his video game. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, then pulls you close and whispers quietly, “Would you still like me to fuck you? We don’t have to if you’re not up for it anymore.” 

You grin and nod your head, “Yes, please. I want it.”

“Get your ass over here, then,” Joel says as he lifts your hips and pulls your pants off, then pulls his own further down his thighs. He guides you to straddle his lap, holding his cock loosely between his middle and index fingers and his thumb. He drags his tip through your folds, then notches himself at your entrance before pulling your hips down, burying himself in you all the way to the hilt. 

You grip his shoulders and press your forehead to his own, sighing softly as you get adjusted to his girth. “I missed your cock,” you breathe, “Missed it so much.”

“I know you did, sweetheart. I missed you too.”

When you’ve adjusted, you begin to roll your hips, rubbing your clit against that soft patch of hair at the base of his cock, moaning and grunting softly, “Oh, Joel. Feels good.”

“I know it does,” he sighs as he leans forward to lift up your shirt and pulls it off of your body, then takes off his own, “That’s better.” He runs his thumbs over the soft curve of your tummy, then slides his hands up your rib cage before cupping your breasts, twisting and rolling your nipples. 

The way he looks at you makes your cheeks feel hot. You lean forward to hide your face, grinding your hips into him. He holds you close to his body with his hands wrapping around your back before gripping your ass and bouncing you up and down on him, stretching and parting your insides. You allow yourself to rest against him, letting him do the work and take care of you. His cock feels incredible. So thick, so hard, hitting against all of your favorite spots. “So good, takin’ me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, “Ya always do.”

Joel squeezes your ass tighter. He can see your reflection in the TV, loving the way your body moves, how you tremble, how you rock your hips, how you whimper his name. It’s all for him. “Wanna, fuck,” he sighs, snaking his hand between your bodies as he finds your clit with his fingertips, rubbing circles around it, “Wanna make you come on my cock. Make those pretty noises for me.”

With Joel’s cock hitting you right where you need him, his fingers playing with your clit, it’s not long before your orgasm approaches. “Right there, Joel. Like that, just like that,” you moan breathlessly, “I’m gonna come for you.”

“Yeah, gimme a good one,” he says. He fucks you expertly, each of his thrusts deep and intentional. It’s all for you. He just wants to watch you come, hear you moan his name, feel you soak his cock. Your breaths quicken and your moans quiet as you near your climax, and you come with loud cries and moans. Joel pulls you close, fucking you through it as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. “Fuck,” he hisses rocking his hips into you once, twice, three more times before he comes with a groan, painting your insides with rope after rope of his hot seed. 

You fall forward, resting your face against the couch as you both catch your breath. He rests his head next to you, looking deep into your eyes before flicking his gaze to your lips, then back up to your eyes. You stare at his lips too.

“Your head still okay?” he asks, “Smacked it real good.”

“Think so.”

“Gonna keep an eye on it anyway,” Joel whispers, “What am I gonna do with you, Inglewood, hmm?”, bringing his hand to your face and rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. You’re still staring at his lips. His pink, pouting lips that have never kissed your own.

“I’m not sure,” you murmur, “What do you think?”

Joel runs his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting go, “Haven’t got a clue.”

Joel leaves you to grab a warm wash rag and clean you up, then helps you back into your clothes. He reaches for the controller and starts up Super Mario Brothers one more time, and you snuggle his bicep like before. This time, he doesn’t try to move you. 

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