#southern comfort cake

[vaughnboyd]

Cakes - Southern Comfort Cake You could even say that this coffee cake is cozy!

[misshoodoolady-arc]

Southern Comfort Cake This is a delicious coffee cake, you might say comforting!

[mrlaurie]

Southern Comfort Cake Recipe You could even say that this coffee cake is cozy!

[thebackwoodsbarbi]

We cooked all day | Hamburgers, Cookies, Funnel Cakes, Deer Loin, Peas, ...

[local-grill-masters]

How to Make Southern Homemade Biscuits by Grandbaby Cakes

Welcome to The Pioneer Woman Cookbook Club! This month, we’re featuring Jocelyn Delk Adams, baker, Grandbaby Cakes blogger, co-host of Stab That Cake!, and cookbook author of Everyday Grand: Soulful Recipes for Celebrating Life’s Big and Small Moments. Read on to learn about how she makes every day “grand” and grab a comforting homemade biscuits recipe to share with the whole family. One of…

[turbinefashion]

Southern Comfort Cake - Desserts - Cake Mix Cake

[angrenwen]

TheDomesticRebel: Sugar Cream Pie/

https://www.seriouseats.com/hoosier-sugar-cream-pie-recipe

https://divascancook.com/sugar-cream-pie-recipe-hoosier/

[huhniebowl]

Mourlin Rouge

dominic fike x reader

warning(s); mentions of drug use, lil spicy & once again a try at some plot, so it’s a little long!

a/n; hey...been a while🧍🏾‍♀️...real shit i missed y'all.

ima try and wheeze my way back up in here. here's my apology... thanks for the request♥️

not proof read yet!

¥

You push and shove your way through sweaty, sticky bodies trying to get to the bar. The bottom of your boots stick to the candied floor from spilled drinks, and God knows what else. 

You're positive that if it weren’t so loud in here, you’d hear the toe-curling sound of your soles detaching from the sealed concrete. 

This wasn’t how you envisioned your Saturday night to go; in fact, it wasn’t supposed to go like this at all.

What was meant to be a night of takeout and reruns of Supernatural suddenly wasn’t when your best friend, Aria, rang your phone. 

Lights from the provocative club paint the room in deep crimson and make it hard to distinguish the faces and details of the clubbers.

Maybe that was the point of it. To hide the platinum pink hair of the woman you thought was blond, but remember the way her skin-tight dress glittered as she moved.

It had been a while since you felt that unreachable state of bliss.

You’re jealous. 

Jealous of the people here. They aren’t here for a long time, you could tell by the way some were leaning over glass tables with rolled dollar bills—noses powdered white. 

Or how they drop unicorn-shaped tablets on their tongues before kicking back a shot. They have no purpose, nothing to lose if shit were to hit the fan. 

You grimace, no stranger to that state of mind. But that’s not you anymore. 

Hasn’t been for years. Not since you met him. 

In time, you make it to the bar, tall bottles of alcohol lined up in the wall, a golden glow emitting from behind them, and a bartender whose breasts look as if they're about to spill from her top. Betty. 

Her nickname was given thanks to her curvy figure, pixie cut, and melanin skin.

Proclaiming her to be a real live Betty Boop. She’s familiar with you, as this isn’t your first time here, but it’s been a long while since you’ve set foot. 

A thick cloud of smoke disperses from her lips, she winks at you, and you grin. 

No stranger to her flirting. 

“Haven’t seen you round’ here inna minute, you ain’t cheatin’ on me now?” her southern accent loud and thick.

“Could never do that you Betty, you know that.” You counter, leaning forward a bit and into her space. 

You order something strong and sweet, voice open and teasing. Used to playing your cards right and getting your first drink free with her. 

Betty gives you a once over, eyes playful and pupils blown as vapor steams from her nostrils, and clouds around you again. It’s sickeningly sweet. 

The smallest smirk grows on her face, and then she goes about doing her job—bending down into a cabinet to grab what looks to be an expensive Vodka—playfully shaking her ass in the process. 

You get comfortable on the stool and unstick your boots from the ground, placing them on the stool’s metal foot rod. 

Your lips curl up at the resistance. 

Out of all the clubs Aria could have picked, this is always the designated meeting ground. 

Mourlin Rouge. 

It's a lewd place within the red district of LA. You used to love it here, came every weekend with her and your friend group. 

With him. 

A Friday and Saturday night hotspot for the young and reckless. Music loud, K bumps on gold platters, and the weighted stench of marijuana. 

You contribute to the stench. Weed fragrancing off you since you hotboxed your car before coming inside. 

Your high is a pleasant one, Wedding Cake, always your go-to when clubbing. 

Your name is shouted out, and you faintly hear it under the bass of the music. You crane your neck over your shoulder and lazily scan the onslaught of clubbers for the face with the familiar voice. 

A tan arm sticks out, then a leg clad in leather pants before Aria shoves the rest of her body through the crowd. 

Similar to what you did moments earlier. 

You reach a hand up, ready to wave her over when you make eye contact, but your arm stills mid-way when a few other people filter in behind her, following in her footsteps. 

The look you share is brief, but she looks nervous. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips pursed to the side. 

Then you see him. The side of him, and suddenly the look on Aria’s face makes sense. 

Your stomach churns and you quickly swivel back around to the bar before he can see you. 

Betty comes back and slides a tall glass of alcohol towards you. It’s pink, has sugar on the rim, and a cocktail toothpick with a lacy black panty on the tip.  

You grab it the second it’s within reach and take a much-needed sip. 

Quick to get rid of the sick feeling in your stomach. It burns the entire way down, just as you hoped. 

It’s uncanny how after months, just a look at him can make your body curl in itself within seconds. 

You part your lips, ready to catch Betty’s attention to add a tequila shot when an arm slithers around your bare torso. The tattoos are a dead giveaway, your body knows who it is before your brain can catch up. 

His touch is scorching and reminds you of the nights you'd curl into him to warm yourself. 

He tugs you back and presses you against his chest. You feel the cold metal of a necklace on your back, no doubt the one you bought him. 

The pendant digs into the top of your spine, as you grip the sides of your chair. 

You take a deep breath when the hand around your waist spreads open, palm now resting on your hip. It takes all your strength not to succumb to old habits. 

To curve your body to fit into his grip, reach around to scratch at his jaw as you turn your head to leave a glossy kiss on his neck. Right over the tattoo he has of your lips. 

He smells familiar, spicy, and warm. Your clit pulses at the remembrance of it all. 

“Dominic,” You start, voice shaky. You clear your throat, quick to cover up vulnerability. 

You don’t miss him, and he’ll be aware of that by any means necessary. 

“Get off.” 

He no longer has access to you like this, he’s crossing a boundary. One that you’re having trouble keeping up. 

With more effort than you’d like to admit, you yank his arm off you and cross your legs. Swiping non-existent lint off your shorts. Anything to keep yourself from facing him. 

Your breakup was nasty, though you both never ventured past the title of a situationship. So you’d hardly call it a breakup. And that was the problem. 

Dom was ready for something more, more than just a fuck, and so were you. But you didn’t trust him, not with a reputation like his. 

Hell, you both started messing around because of his reputation. He was known for no strings attached. A nice fuck, a good friend.

Simple and to the point. 

But you both never expected it to stretch out like this. For feelings to develop, for them to be mutual. 

You got scared, scared that this was just a phase for him and not real. Because it was so real for you. To a point where it felt like your lifeline. 

You broke it off and went no contact.

The night of you and Dom’s argument is something you’ve never been able to forget. You’d never seen him so distraught. So angry.

The intensity of it all reached heights you didn't think was possible. It’s been 3 months since then and the weight feels as heavy as it did back then. 

“Girl, hey!” Aria steps to your left, her hands interlocked and resting under her chin as she smiles brightly. Voice up a pitch. 

Something she subconsciously does when she knows she's fucked up.  

“We saw him and some of his friends while waiting in line. We sort of just merged.” She eyes your other friend, Chloè, who fiddles with her hands and gives a weak smile.

You sigh, and can’t help but wonder if this was planned. The two of them time, and time again have told you that you acted irrational, that what you did wasn’t fair to him.

 And you know. But you've convinced yourself that it's too late to reach out. To make amends. You've made your bed, and now you have to lie in it.

Chloè begged you to reach out to him, and you shot her down every time. 

Aria adjusts the strap of her skimpy top, which didn’t need fixing but is now twisted around. Another anxious habit of hers.

This was planned. 

You nod your head and muster a smile. “It’s cool. We’re all friends here.” 

You look around towards the mixed group and try to play it neutral when you make contact with Dean. Dom’s closest friend. He’s staring blankly at you, judgment and anger bleeding out from his demeanor. 

You cower under his gaze and divert your attention elsewhere. You can’t say you blame him. 

“Uh, Jim Beam. Neat.” Dom’s voice rumbles behind you, he’s still so close you can feel the vibrations. He didn’t take your aggression seriously, and you’re not surprised. 

He knows your body inside and out. Knows exactly how you tick. He’s seen the worst side of you, as well as the best.

Your weak attempt to keep a staid act was pointless. 

It's why you can’t help it this time when you slyly turn to glance at his side profile. Your first official look of the night.

He’s looking at Betty as he orders, jawline sharp and lightly stubbled over. 

Your eyes move up to his hair. It’s down to his neck now, slightly curled up. The start of a mullet.

The front of his hair long and curly and cascades down the side of his face. Stopping just under his cheekbones. He’s changed so much. 

“She’ll have a tequila shot, salt rim.” He remembers your order and your foot twitches. 

Before you can move, Dominic turns to you. Locking you in place with the eye contact you’ve been trying to avoid since the moment you saw him. 

Your breath catches in your throat, heart thumping against your ribs. 

He leans down so he’s level with your ear, hot breath fanning against your neck, “Right?” 

Your arms wisp over with goosebumps. 

His eyes are hooded, glossed over. You can tell he smoked before coming in. He roams over your face, stopping at your lips, before slowly looking back up. He leans in closer, and something in his face glints. 

An eyebrow piercing. That’s new. 

It looks completely healed, and your fingertips tremble with the need to softly run over it. 

The parallel of the gold glow emitting from the bottle wall, to the red lighting of the club wash over him. He looks downright fuckable, and your self-restraint is hanging on by a thread. 

It doesn’t take much for you to start remembering what you’ve tried so hard to bury.

Remembering how his lips felt when leaving reassuring kisses on the parts of your body you hated most. 

How’d he laugh when you’d fuck up a string while he was teaching you to play guitar.

Arms wrapped around your middle and chin hooked over your shoulder as you sat in his lap in his studio. Arms and hands pressed and tangled over each other as he taught you an A cord to a B. 

How he’d stare at you as if you were the sole reason for his existence as his hips moved at a pace that always had you on the brink of admitting the immense amount of love you hold for him. 

He’s giving you that look now. You need to get out of here. 

You swipe your clammy palms down your thighs and shoot up from the barstool, making a beeline to the bathroom and not sparing a look back toward Aria or Chloé. 

You fall into the door when you make it inside.

The single restroom is washed in a warm low light. It’s surprisingly clean, with a bathroom vanity, and square mirror.

You take deep breaths to try and calm down. 

“Fuck fuck, fuck!” You whisper yell, adjusting your top and moving over to look at yourself in the mirror.

Sweat starts to pebble on your forehead, and you hastily pull tissue from the dispenser to pat at your face. Careful not to smudge your makeup. 

You’re racking your brain, trying to think of all the ways you can escape the club when the door clicks open. 

You freeze, looking at the door through the mirror. It’s Dom, and he looks at you through the reflection as he locks the door behind him. 

Something you thought you did.  

You’re not thinking straight anymore, the only thing your mind keeps repeating is Leave! Get out! 

Your body moves on auto, and you throw the paper towels down, gripping your mini purse tightly as you take long strides to the door.

Dominic doesn’t move, he stays firm in front your only exit, and watches your acrylics hit against the handle in an attempt to grip it. 

“Dom fucking move or I swear to God.” Your voice comes out weak and desperate. 

The strong tilt you had at the bar is gone. 

You feel your body start to weaken, tears threatening to spill at your waterline. 

“Dominic please.” Your voice simmers out, and your arms fall limp at the handle. He doesn't budge. You feel his eyes on you, and you suddenly feel small. Bared.

Dom softly brushes his fingers against your collarbone, moving up to your throat, then gently pulling you towards him by the sides of your face.

You keep your eyes on the sealed concrete. 

“Stop.” He speaks against your lips, “Stop fucking fighting me.”

His voice is as weak and tired as yours.

It’s silent between you, your breaths mingling together with the muted bass in the bathroom walls. 

“Can I trust you?” You finally speak. Vulnerability leaks out of you in waves, you’re on the brink of giving in.

You’re surprised you lasted this long in your resolve, your want to give yourself to him present since the very beginning of all this. 

“I want this so bad. I want you so fucking bad, but can I trust you? Can you even trust me after what I—” You choke up, shaking your head. 

“Yes, you can trust me.” he nods his head, “And despite it all, I trust you. With every fiber of my fucking being.” His thumb moves to swipe at your bottom lip, “I’ve never been more sure about anyone than I have with you.” 

He tugs on your chin for you look at him, and you follow. Willingly locking eyes with the man you swore you didn’t need.  

“I swear it,” Dominic says your name with finality, leaving no room for you to doubt him. 

And it’s all you need. 

You drop your purse to the floor, and eagerly tangle your fingers in his hair, yanking him to your mouth. Everything feels hot, your heart thrumming through your ears.

He kisses you feverishly, something about it almost primal.

Something spreads throughout your chest. It’s so strong, heavy, and so liberating that your fingers start to tremble. 

You’re relying solely on muscle memory, when Dominic grabs a handful of your ass underneath your skirt, your flesh protruding between his fingers.

You let out a whimper, a confirmation only he can understand, and you jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his hips. 

You feel his arms flex as he swings you around, everything around you a dizzying blur until he sets you down on the edge of the sink. 

The cool ceramic sends a shiver down your spine, contrasting with the heat radiating from your skin, as you feel its smooth surface touch the curve of your ass.

Dominic doesn’t let off your lips once, taking everything you’ve denied him. You’re completely swallowed by him and let yourself fall into it without any restraint. He’s touching you everywhere, picking you apart in a way only he can do.

You try to pull back, "Dom," you whisper, the sound barely escaping your lips.

He tries to chase them, and you let him, unable to deny yourself. Your lips hover over eachother, open and panting. Anything to stay close.

So you try again, “Dominic."

His name falls from your tongue soft and determined.

He fully pulls away to pepper messy kisses along your throat, each one pulling you deeper into a fuzzy headspace.

Your hands, still trembling, tighten in his hair, silently urging him to return to you.

You guide his head back up until his gaze meets yours, his breath ragged and heavy against your skin. His hands grip your sides tightly.

His fear of losing you is still there. Your heart clenches at the realization.

"I love you." Each syllable is weighted and leaves no room for hesitation. 

Dominic's body stills. 

"Say it again," He whispers, his voice a plea. Staring at you with the same intensity he had the last time you saw each other.

Longing. 

"I love you," You repeat, the words a fervent affirmation of your unwavering devotion. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close. 

"Again, please," He implores, his voice sounds broken, disbelieving. Scared. He buries his face in the safety of your neck. 

With gentle hands, you cup his cheeks, guiding his gaze to meet yours once more. 

"I love you, Dominic," You murmur, voice laced with raw honesty.

"I love you so fucking much and I’d never do anything to hurt you again. I promise."

You brush his hair back and leave tender kisses over his face, “I’m so sorry. You have me now. All of me.”  

Dominic’s eyes start to gloss over, big, brown, and so full of love.

He nods his head firmly, and for the first time in a long time, you see him smile. It’s a genuine one, a real one. All teeth, and dimples are on full display for you, and you only. 

It’s the same smile he gave you all those years ago when you realized you had fallen for him deeper than you believed possible.

“I love you too.” He noses at your jaw, closing his eyes and melting into your body, “But you already knew that.” 

[thetriumphantpanda]

where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller

Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.2K

Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years. 

It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card. 

The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away. 

“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away. 

There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history. 

He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it. 

“Hello, handsome.” You greet. 

“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.” 

God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.” 

“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.” 

You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday. 

“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.” 

He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!” 

“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?” 

“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.” 

“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.” 

“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!” 

You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out. 

Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world. 

“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts. 

Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck. 

Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to. 

He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too. 

When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.

You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen. 

“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.” 

You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all. 

“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.

“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.” 

You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room. 

Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap. 

“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.” 

“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper. 

When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out. 

“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.” 

You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift. 

“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table. 

You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head. 

“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off. 

“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.” 

“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.” 

You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.” 

You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back. 

“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.” 

“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!” 

“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.” 

“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful. 

“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.” 

You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands. 

“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.” 

He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’ girl.” 

You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed. 

You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him. 

“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now. 

“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.” 

He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.” 

He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him. 

He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight. 

Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is. 

You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you. 

You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less. 

All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory. 

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs. 

You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in. 

He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips. 

“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him. 

“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up. 

He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own. 

“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.” 

“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”

So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning. 

You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole. 

Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw. 

“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?” 

His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now. 

“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.” 

“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.” 

You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received. 

“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”

Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him. 

“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him. 

“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.” 

Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy. 

He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed. 

You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care. 

His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light. 

“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.” 

[lawchwan]

Watch Me Sleep, You Perv (ace)

Summary: You and Ace are best friends who live together, you saw him in a very "vulnerable" position, now your feeling's conflicted

Reader: afab Genre: smut Disclaimer: male masturbation, references of perv!reader, naked ace, cunnilingus, switch!ace !!!!!!!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!!!!!!

crossposted on ao3

Oh, what an exhausting day at work.

You thought to yourself as you sighed up the stairs of your apartment. you weren’t in your particular best moods at the moment, your boss was very demanding and exerted way too much pressure on you, acting as if you’re the only employee in existence—although you weren’t the only one with the demanding task that's not the point. You’ve had it up to here and the elevator shutting down on you was just icing on the cake. You let out strings of curse words as you approached the floor you resided in. Thankfully you didn’t live too far high up, but you still didn’t want to labor yourself to reach the safe space that you shared with your best friend, Ace.

Ace was the light of your life. your soulmate even, but you couldn’t pinpoint if he’s a platonic or romantic soulmate to you. As far as you know, he could perceive you through a platonic lens. For the past few years since you’ve moved in with your friend whom you’ve known half of your life, you’ve developed a slight crush on him. It wasn’t like he acted any different towards you when you moved in with him, he was still the same Ace you’ve known. But witnessing something coming from him made you feel something about him in a different light.

You felt bad for what you did but it was a sight you couldn’t look away. You’re very much aware that Ace is one of those people who’s very comfortable with his skin, and if he could, he could walk around in his birthday suit, and he did before you moved in. After you moved in, he still walked around bare, just with the inclusion of shorts or sweatpants. you have to admit, Ace had every right to walk around in that state. If you had a muscular lean body with tattoos on his back and arms like his, you’d flaunt it, so you had your fair share of gawking over him. he would tease you and hit you with a ‘like what you see?’ as he gave you pretentious poses that accentuate his lean physique, only resulting in you rolling your eyes and telling him to ‘piss off.’

But it was all fun and games… right?

One faithful day, or rather night, you came back from a night out with your girlfriends. Ace usually joins along but since it was ladies’ night, he didn’t want to intrude and “ruin the vibe with his masculine presence” as he would call it, otherwise, he was very understanding. you came in very late, and usually, he would stay up to wait for you, but he probably was very tired and went to bed early.

You set your keys down to the side table and walked in the direction of Ace’s room. You knocked on his door three times before walking in—a normal way of showcasing your presence to him and he has no mind to you doing so—and there you were greeted with a sight you shouldn’t have seen. your hunch about him sleeping was true, but what you didn’t expect was to see him in this scenery.

He laid on his back, chest lightly lifting and descending following his breathing with one of his hands right below his sternum and the other splayed upward, where his hand meets his face. You knew he slept naked but what you didn’t expect was him showcasing himself out in the open without the covers covering him.

You couldn’t help but look down to his southern region, and if you weren’t hot and red by how flustered you were, then you’d be a melted strawberry popsicle right now. His legs were spread with one of his knees being bent slightly and his cock was semi-hard and glistening slightly right around the head, almost as if he had either just finished his session or slept in the middle of it—which Ace is notoriously known on sleeping in the middle of a task out of nowhere. Either way, you couldn’t help but observe him in his full glory and you don’t know if it was in your imagination but you could’ve sworn that there was a halo glow around him. If you were a painter, that right there is the perfect spot to paint over on a canvas and place in a museum.

However, you came to your senses as you just realized that you were intruding and staring at your friend’s nether region like an absolute pervert, you left the room hastily yet carefully to not wake him up and got into a cold shower to simmer down the flustered look on your face.

You have yet to inform Ace about it, you went around like nothing happened and Ace still acts like his usual self, however, that guilt still eats you up at the attempt to objectify your friend for your gains. You couldn’t help it but that image has cemented into your brain since that moment, and to say you’ve touched yourself since then would be an understatement. fast forward to today, and you’ve reached your apartment and opened the door to walk in.

Ace should be at the house by the time you arrive, he comes in half an hour earlier than you do and he would be either lounging around the couch or starting lunch for the two of you—more forth than the latter as he’s not the best cook and also has almost set the apartment on fire thanks to his narcolepsy.

However, he’s neither in the living room nor in the kitchen. you figured he was napping in his room, and as you approached the hallway that has his and your separate room, you suddenly heard a whine coming out of Ace’s room.

You were taken aback by the volume and you turned to see that his door was slightly opened, and you could hear more of that whining and panting sounds coming out of his room. You approached the door carefully and peeped through the crack and you saw Ace in the same fashion as you saw on that faithful day, but this time he was fully awake. Ace has his hands wrapped around his hard cock as he bobs it at an interchangeable pace. You figured that he had been punishing himself from the moment he set foot in his house as you saw his work clothes thrown all across the floor of his room, and he had been edging himself for so long.

He continues to whine as his tip leaks out the precum that covers his fingers and he throws his head back before looking down and panting out blabbers out of his mouth.

“mmm, (y/n)~… please—ha!” 

you gasped loudly as when you placed your hand on your mouth, you accidentally pushed the door ajar. Now you have exposed yourself, the pervert that you are, and now you are even more flustered than you already are. Yet, Ace still carries on with his actions as if you haven’t walked in. he slowed his strokes as he smiled at you, a lusting despair painted on his gleaming eyes.

“About time you showed up… I’ve been waiting for so long, (y/n)~” he spoke through his moans, his tone was hushed yet coherent as he looked up to your shocked eyes, “I’ve been waiting since the day you saw me in bed that day…”

Your eyes widened even more than you could have ever done. no, it can’t be… he can’t be… 

“you were awake?” you were flabbergasted as you stood in the doorway.

Ace laughed in return as he continued to stroke his cock, “I was asleep but I woke up slightly—ha!~when I saw you leave my room, so I figured that you saw me… hmm~ naked like a pervert." he giggled followed by a groaned out cuss word due to the sensation.

His sensual tone with his moans was not helping your case and you felt yourself getting wet, and Ace could see right through you as he stopped his stroking.

“But why—“

You were about to ask some questions but Ace got up from his position and pushed you into the bed, leaving you gasping at the sight of a naked Ace getting on top of you.

“you’re asking way too many questions, you pervert… now allow me to show you what you’ve always wanted to have.” His tone contrasted with his previous whiny tone when he first saw me.

His big brown eyes were blown dark with lust. Lips smirked at the sight of me being caught off guard as he hastily shredded my work clothes off of my heated body to the point where I was equally as bare as him. He looked down in awe with a pleasant expression on his face, dimples sinking deep into his cheek as he nodded his head and muttered before leaning down into a hot sloppy yet passionate kiss, "Just like how I imagined it... sexy as I thought."

Your tongues entangled with each other as his large hands roamed around your body, with one wrapping itself around the side of your neck and the other held onto your hip. Your kiss was feverish and you could feel that heat of embarrassment you once had replacing itself with a wanton type of heat. Your hair entangled itself with his wavy hair whilst his hand that was once on your neck roamed down to your breasts and began messaging it, resulting in you moaning while he nipped your neck, with intentions of marking. 

"Aw, you're moaning? I have barely even touched you~" Ace mocked as he gave you a pout while his hand was roaming south to your wet spot. Where did that demeanor come from? He went from a whiny puppy that looked like he demanded to be dominated over to a menacing bully... a hotmenacing bully. 

"Ace—quit messing around..." you whined out as Ace was simply teasing your erogenous zones before teasing your clit. He just threw his head back with an evil laugh before looking down at you with fake pity. 

"Quit messing around you say? I would, but you took too long to come in and pleasure me..." His face was very menacing, leaving you to gulp in intimidation as he leaned down to your ear and whispered, "Listen to my orders and you'll get what you want. We'll take the whole night so you better be ready for it... there's no backing down... do you understand?"

He got up and looked at you, leaving you to observe his beautiful freckled face. Even through that intimidating tone and his eyes being dark and lustful, there's still this expression of desperation and that small image of the caring Ace still popping through with that question. Almost like saying "Sure, I want to fuck you raw until you can't walk, but I want your consent and want to make you feel good for real" in true Ace fashion, but he's now saying it in a way where his sexual appetite is demanding to be fed. You just smiled back, eyeing from his lips and back to his eyes, your eyes matched the same type of ravishing appetite that he had. 

"Yes, Ace~"

"Good," he spoke in a hushed tone as he leaned down, pushing your legs far apart to expose your glistening labia to him, leaving him to lick his lips before coming down to contact and started licking at all the crevices that resulted in you whining out his name,

"Now, let me have you all to me..."

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

[cevansbrat0007]

Southern Comfort

Summary: A day after your ex-boyfriend's unexpected return, you show up on Ari's doorstep intending to ask for a little time. Too bad your grumpy bounty hunter isn't feeling particularly charitable.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Some Angst, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Arguments, Angry Sex, Discussions of Ex-boyfriends, Mentions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Manhandling, Pushing, Discussions of Female Virginity (mentioned), Edging (mentioned), Restraints (mentioned), Brief Allusions to Rape/Forced Sex, Allusions to DubCon/NonCon, Primal Play (mentioned), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Takes place directly after the events in Case of the Ex, but it is not the sequel. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

“Alright, now. Remember to breathe, sugar.” You mutter as you adjust the skirt of your floral sundress. “You’ll be in and out quicker than a hiccup.” 

Although the day had cooled down considerably since this morning, the temperature still sat at an uncomfortable 88℉. Which therefore meant that you were uncomfortable. Even after a shower and a change of clothes. 

You take one last moment to fluff your curls and reapply your lip gloss before reaching inside your car to pull out a ceramic baking dish, complete with a lid. And then you begin the quiet trek up the concrete walkway. Your stomach is in knots by the time you reach the front door to ring the bell. 

Your teeth begin to worry your bottom lip while you wait, part of you wishing that you could just sit the dish on the front porch and make a beeline for your vehicle. But your Mama hadn’t raised you to be a coward, and neither had your beloved Uncle. God rest their souls. 

So you had to see this through. And once you were done you would head over to your shop and through yourself into work until the sun came up. There was already a crispy chicken salad waiting for you on the passenger seat, accompanied by some reduced fat buttermilk ranch dressing.

Your stomach growls at the thought of food. It was a subtle reminder that you hadn’t eaten much lately, save for the wrap Ari had brought by yesterday. Now that you’d devoured, right along with the chips, salad, and the cookie – all of which had been delicious.

But when it had come time for you to call him that evening as you were locking up, for some reason, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do it. Because if he answered, you knew that he was gonna want the skinny on your ex-boyfriend. And you really weren’t prepared to dive into all of that yet.

So you’d decided to shoot Ari a text message after you’d already arrived home for the night, letting him know that you were safe and that you needed time to process the day’s events. After that was done, you’d powered off your phone, content to simply be alone with your thoughts.

And you had yet to turn it back on. Sometimes a girl needed her space.  

In that same vein, you also hadn’t bothered with opening the store today. You’d been a little paranoid about receiving a pop-up visit from Ari or Mason. Or, worse yet, both of them at the same time. Again. 

Seeing him like that had really done a number on you. He’d looked so good standing there in your shop with that same boyish grin of his. It had immediately transported you back to high school, in the most confusing way possible. But at least it hadn’t stirred up any romantic feelings.

In your opinion, Mason Prescott was a lot like double frosted chocolate mud cake. Pretty to look at, but indulge in more than a couple bites and it was liable to make you sick to your stomach.   

Just as your mind begins going down the rabbit hole of comparing problematic men to desserts, the front door is wrenched open to reveal a stern-looking Ari Levinson. He’s barefoot, wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and light gray t-shirt. 

The two of you stand there in silence for a moment, neither of you saying a word. He doesn’t need to communicate the fact that he was worried about you, not when it’s written plain as day all over his gorgeous face. But now, at roughly 6:30 in the evening, he wasn’t just worried. He was downright pissed. 

At you. Oops.  

“Good evening.” Comes your shy greeting once it eventually becomes too much. “I…I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d drop by.” You offer up a lame shrug, wishing that you would’ve practiced your speech a little more before you’d gotten out of your car. 

Ari grunts in response, the seemingly ever-present tick in his jaw growing more pronounced with each passing second. And you can feel your confidence taking a dive as a result. 

“I also wanted to tell you that I was sorry for kicking you out the way I did yesterday. And for texting instead of calling. I was a little ruffled, but I could’ve been a bit more gracious about things.” You force yourself to take a steadying breath. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Alright.” That’s all you get from him. And now that tempting mouth of his pressed into a thin, firm line. Which did not bode well for you.

“I would’ve called you from the shop, but I decided not to open today so…” Your body sways in the wind as a gentle breeze picks up. Boy did that air feel good on your skin. 

“I know.” Ari replies flatly. “Drove by your house earlier and saw your car. That’s the only reason I hadn’t filed a missing person’s report with Marlon Timmers down at the station.” 

“Oh…”

And that was your confirmation right there. Yes, you had indeed worried this man. Which meant that he’d felt the need to go looking for you. If only to make sure that you were safe. And that a certain Prescott wasn’t taking up real estate in your driveway.     

“I made you somethin’.” Pasting on a smile, you present him with the covered dish you’d brought along with you. “As part of my apology.”  

The bounty hunter hesitates briefly before accepting your offering with a sigh, followed by a quiet “thanks”. And then he turns on his heel to head deeper into the house. Unsure of what else to do, you decide to follow behind him, closing the door as you go.

Besides, you’d much rather continue this discussion indoors anyway.  

“It’s a cobbler.” You find yourself babbling as you both make your way into the kitchen. “A peach cobbler. It’s kind of my specialty, right up there with my brambleberry pie. The secret is a splash of bourbon, plus a dash of vanilla.” 

For some reason unbeknownst to you, your nervous admission stops him dead in his tracks.

“You brought me a…” He trails off as he sucks in a breath, his brain kicking into overdrive. “Is this – is this a breakup cobbler?” You wince when he unceremoniously drops your beloved baking dish onto the counter.

Your eyes go wide at that, his unexpected accusation leaves you bristling. As if you had it in you to be so callous. If you were breaking up with him then you would’ve brought along muffins. Or perhaps a nice iced lemon blueberry loaf.

You had simply come to apologize, and maybe ask for a little time. Nothing too crazy, mind you. Only a few days, really. Maybe week tops. 

“Oh, simmer down now, Beast.” You sniff, clutching your purse under your arm. Clearly he was still smarting about yesterday’s turn of events. But even so, there was no reason for you to conduct yourself as anything but the proper gentlewoman you were raised to be. 

“Duchess, I swear to God….” Ari’s fingers go to the bridge of his nose as he visibly prays for patience. Meanwhile, you’re busy stewing over his ill-treatment of your precious cookware. “If this is a breakup cobbler, I’m gonna spank your ass so hard you won’t sit comfortably for a week.”

That rat bastard! Heat floods your face as your mouth goes slack. Ari Levinson had officially gone too far, which meant that  it was up to you to set him straight.   

“You are unbelievable!” You screech, smacking his chest with your handbag. It feels good, so you do it again. You’re even poised to do it a third time before it’s snatched from your grasp. 

“Oh yeah, baby?” The agitated bounty hunter rakes his fingers through his hair, yanking at the chestnut strands. “Then how come I don’t hear you denying it?”  

“I came here trying to do something nice.” You hiss through gritted teeth. “And to apologize for–”

“For what? Trying to fly away on me? Again?” 

Ari reaches for you, although you’re quick to slap his hand away. With the way you were feeling right now, you were liable to bite him.

“You came here to apologize for being an ass. I’m supposed to say "no big deal". Next comes the part where you ask for space, because you’re confused and you’re scared.” He finishes with a shrug before turning his body so that he can fish something out of a drawer. Seconds later you see that it’s a spoon. “Add that to the fact that you’re falling for me–”

“Oh, fuck you!” You interrupt with a snarl, slamming your hand down on the counter. But your gaze remains trained on his chosen piece of cutlery. 

“I have a feeling we’ll get to that.” Ari jams the utensil into the center of the cobbler. “But first…” He scoops up a hearty helping, grinning at the crumbly bits of crust and juicy peach before raising the spoon to his lips and devouring it in one swift bite. “Mmm. Not bad, baby.” 

Not bad? You inwardly seethe. Not BAD? What that man had in his possession was an award winning cobbler. It was better than excellent. It was fucking legendary. 

Your man chews animatedly, making a show of savoring the decadent mouthful. “Maybe a little heavy on the nutmeg. But as I was saying…” He sucks a stray drop of filling off his thumb. “Between the sudden appearance of our good buddy, Mace, and you being overwhelmed about this thing we’ve got goin’ on…I reckon that you’re feeling a tad out of sorts. Am I right?”

The gall of this man! A red haze colors your vision as his words wash over you, filling you with a slow churning sense of rage. Just who the fuck did Ari Levinson think he was? 

“My cobbler has the perfect amount of cinnamon and nutmeg, you–you uncultured jackass!” You grit out through clenched teeth. 

You could tolerate a lot from folks in this town. But one thing you absolutely would not abide by was someone bad mouthing one of your made-from-scratch confections. You baked with learned skill, as well as passion. It was the one thing you felt you were genuinely good at. 

Which meant that you were about to choke some sense into the gorgeous man standing in front of you. 

“Yeah?” He shovels another spoonful into his mouth. “Then how about you stick around and fight with me about it instead of running off like I know you want to?”

The smug turd gobbler has the nerve to smile at you before helping himself to more gooey, peachy, crumbly goodness. Little did he know that you were this close to slapping him hard enough to make his ears ring.

He wouldn’t even have to stoop down low for you to do it. You were so mad you could practically feel yourself about to levitate.   

“No, thank you. In fact, I think I’ll be going.” You tell him, your tone rife with disdain. “Now hand me my purse and return my sub-par cobbler and I will be on my way.” 

The damned bag had your keys inside it. Next time you left the house intending to make amends you were going to wear something with pockets!

“No.” 

“Excuse me?”  

“Ya know what, Bird?” Ari tosses the spoon into the sink with a clatter before crossing his burly arms over his broad chest. “I’ve just realized that I’m not feeling all that charitable at the moment. Plus, you didn’t say please.” He tacks on the last bit with a cheeky wink.

“Meaning?” 

He has no idea that you’re fantasizing about keying the side of his precious Nissan Titan right now.   

“Meaning that we can either stand here all night sizin’ each other up.” He lets out a resigned sigh. “Or we can take a seat on the couch, or maybe curl up in bed, and talk about what’s got you ready to run for the hills.”

“And I take it there is no option three?” Your hands settle on your hips as you glare back at him. 

“You and that damned option three.” Ari chuckles under his breath, not finding a damn thing amusing. “Well sweetheart, option three involves me cuffing you to my bed and edging the fuck out of that sweet pussy until you tell me whatever it is I wanna know.”

“There isn’t anything to know, Ari!” You all but shout, feeling every bit as frustrated as you sound. “I haven’t seen Mace in damn near five years!”

“Be that as it may, there was still something about his visit that shook you, Bird.” He goes to reach for you again, only to have you dance away. You absolutely did not want to be touched right now. “I saw it then and I see it now.” 

“And if I were to tell you that it’s not a big deal?”

Instead of immediately responding, Ari cocks his head to the side, taking a moment to study you. “Then I would tell you that you’re lying. And not just to me. But to yourself.”  

You look away, temporarily at a loss for words as you wrap your arms around your middle. A middle that was a little too soft for your liking, regardless of how often you seemed to be counting calories these days. 

“I gave him my heart. And he smashed it into a million glittering pieces the first chance he got. I mean, I guess I can’t be too mad since I’m the one who gave him the hammer. Not once, but twice.” You spit as you feel hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. “But even so, do you honestly think I’d be stupid enough to let him do it a third time?”

“Bird.” Your nickname falls from his lips like a soft, urgent plea. But you don’t hear it. Not really.

“I was the fat girl who fell for the jock. Not really all that notable, I suppose. Except in this case that jock just so happened to be the golden boy of Bell’s Creek.” Your arms fall wide before dropping them down at your sides in defeat. “But I didn’t care. Because I was stupid and in love and a fucking virgin when he–” You abruptly cut yourself off when you realize the direction your thoughts are heading. 

You’d already said more than enough. 

“When he what?” Ari’s voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You rise up on your toes as you search for an opening to snag your purse.

Because you were through talking about this. It was time for you to head back home, crawl under the covers, and hide there until you could summon the strength to bake every single dessert you could possibly think of using every last bit of the ingredients you had stocked in your kitchen.

And then you would eat them all until you either accidentally gave yourself diabetes or you finally exploded.

“Please talk to me.” This time when Ari takes a step towards you, you beat back a hasty retreat. And you don’t stop moving until you reach his front door. “C’mon, baby, wait!” 

But you didn’t want to wait. What you needed was to be alone. The plan had been to drop off the cobbler, make your amends, and then peace the fuck out. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d allowed Ari Levinson to get under your goddamned skin the way only he could. 

So, you’d walk home and send someone to pick up your car later. If you left now, you’d make it back before the sun had even begun to set. Besides, it wasn’t like you couldn’t use the exercise. 

A firm hand on your arm halts your movements, hauling you backwards against the solid wall of his chest…

Which is when you finally snap.

“I did not give you permission to touch me!” You hiss, turning in the embrace and shoving at him with all your might. However, you know that the only reason the bounty hunter actually lets you go is because you had the element of surprise.

Because holy shit! What the fuck had you just done? 

“Woah, woah.” Ari quickly backs away, his palms raised in surrender. “It’s okay, Bird. I pushed you, so you pushed me. It’s okay. It’s all okay, sweetheart.” You can tell he’s doing his damnedest to keep his tone calm and even so as not to spook you further. 

You give him a shaky nod, feeling more than a little embarrassed by your inability to control your emotions. 

“I’m so–sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” You manage to eek out, even as your bottom lip starts to tremble. You scrub your hands over your eyes as you fight back tears. “There is no excuse.” You tell him, keeping your head bowed as your knees feel wobbly. 

What an awful mess you’d made of this whole thing. Truly.

“Fuck!” He exhales softly, clearly unsure about whether or not it’s okay to touch you. “I don’t want us to end things like this, baby. I really don’t.” Now there’s a note of desperation in his tone that wasn’t there just a few seconds earlier. 

Ari goes quiet, weighing his options as he contemplates the best way forward. At least that’s what you assume he’s doing, since you’re too preoccupied with wishing the earth would swallow you up where you stood. 

“I’d really like to hold you. But I don’t want to scare you. So you’re gonna have to come to me.” He opens his arms to you then, just as you’re ready to fall apart at the seams. “But – and I can’t stress this enough – only if you want to.”

This time you go time without hesitation. And just like always, your man is right there to catch you before you shattered. 

“I’m so sorry I hurt you!” Your words come on the heels of a muffled sob as you cling to him, pulling his body closer to your own as the feelings of remorse threaten to overwhelm you.

“Shh, little Bird. Shh.” Ari murmurs as he lifts you into his arms and carries you into the living room. Once there, he settles you both on the couch, tucking your smaller frame into his own.

He whispers soft, sweet kisses along the damp skin of your brow as he tangles his fingers in your curls to massage your scalp. “I got you. I got you. I got you.” He tenderly rocks you back and forth while he waits for you to calm down.

“Please don’t leave. I swear I didn’t mean it.” You’re babbling now and you know it, but it does manage to earn you a relieved grin from your man. 

“Nobody’s goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Not you. And definitely not me.” He cups your jaw, gently forcing you to meet his gaze. “We’re just fine, you and me. I’m a big boy. You surprised me, maybe. But you didn’t hurt me.” 

“But I shouldn’t have –” You begin, your eyes blurring with a fresh wave of tears.

“Listen to what I’m saying.” Ari interjects, his tone containing just the right amount of authority to get your attention. “I’m a big boy, baby. I’m talking 6’3, 220 lbs on a good day. I ignored your body's cues, okay? I'm the one who failed to properly read your warning signs and I got in your space – so please hear me when I say that a pretty large piece of this was my fault too.”

You shake your head “no”, because it should go without saying that Ari would never hurt you. At least not on purpose, and never physically. And yet…

“Baby, you went a little primal is all.” He reaches for your hand to press a kiss to your clammy palm. “That’s all that happened. No harm, no foul. We can even play that way one day, if you’re interested. But not unless we’re both on the same page.”

You weren’t quite sure what he was talking about, but for now you’d simply choose to go with it. Because right now you’d need the kind of comfort and reassurance that only your man could provide. 

Needed him to ground you when you felt like you might float away.

“Okay, but I’m still sorry.” You sniffle, gingerly wiping your nose on his t-shirt. Not that he minds overly much.

“I’m sorry too. Not just for pushing you how I did, but for disrespecting your cobbler. Which is divine by the way.”

Now that has you perking up almost immediately. “But you said –”

“Little Bird, I don’t know shit about what goes in a peach cobbler. My nutmeg crack was a shot in the dark meant to piss you off. I figured once I got you talking, you’d spill your guts, I’d take you to bed where you me me promise not to shoot your ex, and then…” Ari trails off as your words from earlier come flooding back to him.

Not wanting to start down this road again, you wrap your arms around his neck before slanting your mouth over his. Your tongue strokes along his plump bottom lip, seeking entrance. Ari responds without hesitation as he buries both hands in your hair, drawing you closer to him.

Right now you needed this man more than you needed air in your lungs. “Please.” You whimper, shifting your body so that you’re now straddling his hips, your legs coming to rest on either side of his thickly muscled thighs. “Please, Ari. I need you. Don’t make me wait.” You nip at his lips, before trailing a fiery litany of kisses along the curve of his jaw. 

A part of your mind screams at you to slow down, to explain yourself. But you quickly silence it once Ari’s skilled hands abandon your curls in favor of your chest. Gripping the bodice of your dress, he manages to rip the lightweight fabric in two on the first try.

“Fuck, baby! Promise we’ll talk after.” He snarls, more to himself than you.

Meanwhile, you eagerly reach behind you to undo the clasp of your bra. You both let out a groan once you finally rid yourself of the garment, your heavy breasts spilling into his waiting palms. Of course he wastes no time before drawing a pouting nipple into his warm, wet mouth - sucking deep. His expert tongue takes turns teasing and laving at the pebbled tip as wetness pools between your thighs.

“After.” You hurriedly reassure him as you pull away long enough to unfasten his jeans. It winds up taking the both of you working together to free his impressive erection from his boxers, nearly sobbing with relief when it's done.

Because you needed him inside you now. 

Needed him to fill you up just right. Wanted him to go so deep that you didn’t have to worry about thinking anymore. All you wanted to feel was him moving inside you. You couldn’t wait to feel that sweet burn you’d come to crave as he stretched you out with his perfect cock. Couldn't wait for him to claim your body with each slow, delicious stroke of his hips. 

Breathing heavy, your hand fists itself around him as you guide his length to your waiting pussy – your panties having been previously torn to shreds. Right now you were so fucking wet for your hunter that you could feel your slick practically dripping down your thighs. 

“God, yes!” You slowly lower yourself on top of him, welcoming your man into tight, velvet heat. And you relish the feel of nearly being split in two as you begin to ride him.

Ari’s head tips back in bliss, offering you his throat as you use him for your pleasure. “Doin’ so good for me, baby. So fuckin’ tight.” He grits out as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as if your life depended on it. And in some ways it did. 

He slaps your ass, spurring you on. “Harder!” You growl as your teeth graze along the shell of his ear, loving the rough way he squeezes your globes as you work yourselves into a frenzy. “Just like that, Beast. Don’t let go!”

You bury your face in his neck as stars begin to dance behind your eyes at the same time as that invisible coil tightens in your belly, threatening to snap and send your hurtling into oblivion. But you wouldn't go without your man.  

Not without Ari.

“Never, baby.” Without warning, he flips your bodies so that you’re laying on your back, enabling him to take over. He sets a grueling pace – the sounds of slapping flesh and passion-fueled grunts filling the room. “We go together, you and me.” He captures your lips once more, swallowing your heady little cries of pleasure.   

“You and me, Beast! God, yesss!” You keen, as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, your wedge heels digging into the small of his back. “Now fuck me like you mean it.” 

END 

Unofficial Tag List

@katymae12344

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Masterlist:

Click here to buy me a coffee :)

Sorted by character (more always to come)

All writing reblogged on @reading-writing-watching so switch notifications on there for updates :)

Requests: closed

All 18+ works will be marked as so in their individual warnings so minors do not interact with those!

Fan favourites marked with **

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Beaming Beskar**

Din has a unique way of telling you when he's smiling at you.

A Million Love Songs

If music be the food of love, play on.

Stormy Skies**

Din rescues you from an Imperial prison.

Sultry Sunsets

Din takes you to see the most stunning sunset in the galaxy.

Some Kind of Wonderful

Din shows his affection for you in strange but simple ways.

In Sickness & In Health

Din cares for you when you’re sick.

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

Puppy Love

Your neighbour Dieter's dog is the only comfort you need during stressful days. Well, maybe her and her owner.

Love To Hate

You hate Dieter Bravo more than anything. So why are you asking him to sleep with you?

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

There Are No Words Left To Speak

Joel watches you from afar and decides he needs to invite you in closer.

The Liquor On Your Lips

You’re a vice too good to resist.

Not A Place, But A Feeling

They say home is where the heart is. And your heart is with Joel Miller.

Frankie “Catfish” Morales (Triple Frontier)

Something Stupid

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like “I love you”.

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars)

Unspoken

You and Obi-Wan take a moment for yourselves to reflect.

Absolution

Obi-Wan really should have let his curiosity go and avoided that flower.

Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty)

Somebody’s Watching Me Masterlist**

You sense someone following you after returning home from active duty.

Phillip Graves (Call of Duty)

Southern Charm

You’re supposed to hate him but you just can’t resist that southern charm.

John/Johnny “Soap” MacTavish (Call of Duty)

My Guiding Light

You and Soap have a mutual agreement to take care of each other when returning to base after exhausting weeks out in the field.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick (Call of Duty)

Burnt Cake & Melted Ice Cream

Gaz returns home from deployment earlier than expected.

John Price (Call of Duty)

Homecoming

Price finally comes home after long months away and there’s no one else he’d rather spend the time with.

Michael Myers (Halloween)

Every Breath You Take**

It shouldn’t exhilarate you so much knowing a serial killer was stalking you. But you just can’t help yourself.

Robert “Bob” Floyd (Top Gun: Maverick)

I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying**

Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.

Pattern Breaker

A love confession turns to more once Bob knows you’re interested.

Asks

Simon “Ghost” Riley 1

Captain John Price 1

Captain John Price 2 (Homecoming)

[dandysnob]

Hi 🤗 I'm with Paul that you should experience a country through it's food.

So if you would like to share:

What is a typical dish from your region?

What is a common simple dish you cook when you come home from work in the evening and don't have the energy to make something fancy?

What is a typical dish from your childhood?

I like to ask this when I meet people from different countries/regions

Hi Anon! What a nice Ask, I love it! 💚 Thank you so much! (Ő▿Ő人) Adding the video for reference 📺

Zürcher Geschnetzelte, a veal dish, sometimes also containing mushrooms, served with a cream sauce and rösti is well-known throughout Switzerland. One of my favorite dishes!

Plain penne, with a drizzle of fresh oil, chili, basil and parmesan cheese or pasta with cervelat, pickled eggplant, feta cheese and French sauce. 😋

Frittata di Spaghetti, a typical dish in the Southern Italian (Neapolitan to be precise) tradition, made with spaghetti, mixed with egg and cheese, cooked in a frying pan forming a round cake-like shape with a crispy exterior, soft interior and absolutely delicious. During our summer holidays, mom used to make this for us to eat on the beach. Comfort food at its best. ლ(´ڡ`ლ) So even though she still makes it for me today, I associate this dish with specific moments from my childhood.

I love food a lot and I agree with you, it's a great topic for conversations! (♡°▽°♡)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I'm SO sorry if you've already moved on from the polyAU but I have some thoughts about the pre-poly situation and the sexual tension between those three is making me feral.

imagining a scenario where König is away (but still watching through cameras cuz duh) and bestie is staying over with Engel (southern redhead gremlin Kitty my actual beloved, anon thank you for that one) would König feel bad about indirectly peeping on another girl while with Engel? I don't think he'd actively follow Kittys movements like he would his angel but if they were comfortable enough to say, sleep in the same bed I can see him, ahem, indulging himself in some fantasies here and there. and watching them get really animated in conversations as they're getting ready or baking together as Engel asks Kitty to try a bit of frosting from her fingers just fuels a homey lil fantasy he has with them, which he immediately feels guilty about. the absolute worst was when Kitty teased Engel about her breasts getting bigger since shes on her period, only for Engel to retort by poking her boobs which naturally let to a bit of play wrestling, meanwhile König is about to rip his shirt off out of pure frustration at how blessed and cursed he feels.

Nooo I haven’t!! You can send all the poly thoughts! (I’m just busy with life and Roman!König stole my soul for a moment but poly au is not going anywhere I swear ❤️)

Sooo would König feel bad? Naah, I don’t think yan König feels bad about much anything, sorry! His angel is forever and always his priority, of course, but if they’re cooking together and tasting the frosting or the sauce from each others fingers or heaven forbid sleeping in the same bed then König is watching them both like a hawk, sure! Having some “homely” fantasies too, yup 👀

But the play wrestling omg…. I bet a thousand bucks that gremlin Kitty has Engel wrestled on the floor, playfully, of course, but still nothing short of dominant as she straddles her hips and holds her hands down… While Engel puts on her most lovable little pouty face of “I’ll behave I swear, you bested me, please let me go!” *pout pout pout*

Raaahh König would be ripping his shirt for sure! That’s exactly what he would do too, restrain his cute little Engel who always tries to test her might against those who are stronger than her >:( He’d put some bridles on that Kitty, too, if it came to that… Both of these little hellions are looking so incredibly adorable like that, baking a cake and play wrestling and poking each others tits. König can’t wait to get home and see if this sort of play fighting goes on while he’s present as well…

[tllgrrl]

Happy Birthday, Old Man by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Summary: Bucky celebrates his 100 and somethingth (“Who’s countin’?”) birthday with his family, and an old friend makes an appearance.

* * * * * * * * * *

For @buckybarnesevents Bucky’s Birthday Bash: Bake A Cake Edition

Base - #6 Post-Endgame /Post-TFATWS

Filling - Trope/Quotes: #1 There was only one bed. (Kinda…)

Frosting - Characters: #11 Sarah Wilson (and Cass, AJ, and Alpine)

Toppings: Colours: Blue (mentioned)

* * * * * * * * * *

He slowly opened his eyes and Sarah’s shoulder was the first thing he saw.

Smooth. Dark. Highlighted by pale blue moonlight through the skylight.

He didn’t want to move, but he carefully extracted himself from the bed, grabbed his robe from the chair, made his way out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him, and headed down the stairs.

He drank a glass of water, then stepped out onto the deck that overlooked the lake.

It was chilly enough to where he wrapped Sarah’s shawl she’d left outside around himself before stretching out on one of the deck chairs, and leaning back to look up into the starry night sky.

The light fragrance of her—and his—favourite body lotion enveloped him.

So many stars. Different constellations are visible in Upstate New York than in Southern Louisiana…than in Wakanda…than in…than…in…

“So…seems like you got some of that Life that Tony was talkin’ about, too, huh? I’m really happy for you, Buck.”

“Mmmm. Wha—?” Bucky opened his eyes, looked over to his left, and there was an elderly man—tall, with white hair—standing at the railing, looking out over the still waters.

It looks like, but it can’t possibly be…

“Steve…?“

“Happy Birthday, Old Man.”

“Thanks, pal. What—?”

Just as the man turns to face him—

Sarah shifts a little.

“You okay, Old Man?” She reaches back and gently rakes her fingers through his hair.

Bucky opens his eyes. He’s in bed. Sarah’s shoulder is the first thing he sees.

Smooth. Dark. Highlighted by pale blue moonlight through the skylight.

“Nothin’.” He kisses that shoulder, gently rubs his cheek on her. “Just a dream, nandi.”

“A good dream?” She whispers, but he can hear the smile in her voice.

He closes his eyes and buries his face in her hair, inhaling her and pulling her closer, wrapping his arm around her.

“Yeah. Not as good as this, though.”

Behind him is Cass. Cass’s heels are at his back and his head is pointed toward the foot of the bed.

AJ is curled up at Sarah’s feet.

The plan was to take the boys to their room and tuck them in after Storytime, but everyone had all fallen asleep in the King-sized bed because it was cold outside, and the vacation cabin had a fireplace in the master bedroom, so they were all cozy.

A purr is coming from somewhere above his and Sarah’s heads, and Alpine’s paws find his head and begin gently kneading his scalp.

“Hey, up there,” he whispers, “settle down, you.”

Outside, it’s wee hours dark, but the moon is almost full. Along with the soft glow of the nightlight by the door, Bucky can make out the details in the room, and of the blanket covering them.

It’s different shades of blue, woven from fibers dyed with indigo.

Woven into the blanket there are symbols, words, prayers that offer blessings and protection.

There is a similar spread on Sarah’s bed back home in Delacroix. The boys have their special Border Tribe blankets as well. This particular super-sized blanket travels with the family when they go on vacations and road trips.

It is soft, yet substantial thanks to the Vibranium that’s woven into the cloth making it practically impervious to a whole list of threats.

And most importantly, it keeps his family comfortable and warm.

Before he goes back to sleep, Bucky looks over to the nightstand and sees the framed photograph they’d given to him earlier.

A photo of Sarah, Cass, AJ, and him.

It had been beautiful at the dock on that special day. They were all smiles, dressed to the nines, and Sarah was holding a little bouquet of flowers.

The card next to the photo was handmade by the two boys and read:

Happy Birthday, Dad!! We Love You!!

Happy Birthday, mthandi! Sarah wrote under the boys’ names, and had drawn a heart.

“Happy Birthday, Old Man,” he heard the familiar voice as it faded away.

Yeah, Bucky thought as he drifted back to sleep, smiling.

Happy.

* * * * * * * * * *

Also posted HERE on AO3 (members only) .

For @buckybarnesevents Bucky Barnes Birthday events.

Thanks for reading!

[aliypop]

I'm Coming Home

Word Count: 1,051

Writers Note: I had this idea while I was at work

Warning: Language/ SMUT

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: March 8th, 1960, the biggest arrival that Cecelia could wish for, but with tension and high stress she almost misses the G.I. she'd been waiting for

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

@everythingelvispresley

@dreamondina94

@elvismylove04

@pocketfulofpresley

March 8th, 1960, Graceland 

"Carlotta, did you put the punch on the table?" Cecelia asked as she nodded. They'd been up for two days prepping for a surprise welcome-back party for Elvis,

" Rosa. Midge, did you get the Guitar cake?"

"Shit..." Midge sighed,

"Please get that cake, it's important!" Cecelia sighed. She had made every dish on the table thus far with the help of her mother, Delta, Minnie, and others in the house, "Where do you want the balloons?" Denise asked as Cecelia smiled, "By the door." walking back towards Vernon's office to check on him, she couldn't help but hear his phone call. He'd been busy with the press lately, but this was different. 

"I'm happy he's back, but If he didn't go, he wouldn't have killed his mother the way he did..." Vernon said as if a knife twisted in her heart. Cecelia was there the day Gladys took her last breath, and she was there when Elvis cried endlessly. When Vernon looked over, he saw Cecelia, who had a worrying look in her eyes, 

"I'll call you back... Say, Cecelia, how can I help you,"

"Oh, nothing, Mr. Presley, I came to check on you. However, while I respect you as my future father-in-law, let's not forget I'm protective of your son, so if you even think of that bullshit of Elvis killing Gladys at the party, I will rip your kneecaps out and beat you with them do we have an understanding?" Vernon gulped and nodded as he looked at Cecelia, "Good, now Papa Vernon, where do you think the Meatloaf should go?" She asked as he stuttered. After a while, the guests started to pool in, and Cecelia made sure everyone was okay and comfortable, "May I have your attention?" She said as people turned to look at her. "Thank you. Uh, I want to say once again thank you all for coming. Though before we get started, a few rules," She said as everyone sighed. Her mother was proud that she sounded like a hostess. And soon-to-be wife,

"One, no mentioning Mrs. Presley, he's still grieving, and it's a soft spot. Two, no industry talk he's readjusting, and three, please be civilized!" She said as she took a deep breath, "Okay, you may now all continue," Cecelia could hear the fans from outside the gates cheering as she slithered into the kitchen to check on the pies and the cakes. She hadn't noticed everyone fleeing to the car outside. Because she was too focused on everything being just right for Elvis,

 "Alright, Pie over here and cake...Who took a slice out of my..."

"I might've..." That southern accent made her heart race as she looked up at him, "ELVIS!" Cecelia tried to hug him as he gestured to the pastries, "Oh, right..." Setting them down, he picked her up and spun her around,

 "I was supposed to yell surprise and then-" Elvis kissed her as he pulled away slowly, 

"Cil... It's perfect, " He kissed her nose and she blushed,

"You think so. I made all your favorites, a-and, shit the cake!"

"The guitar one?" He questioned as her blood pressure went down, "That was clever," He winked as he pulled her closer, "Oh Elvis, look at you all handsome an whatnot." Delta said as she ruffled up his hair. Elvis laughed as he chuckled, "Come mere, you got family who ain't seen you since you know..." She looked at Cecelia and winked. Cecelia laughed, watching her G.I. go around the house as if he were a bouncing ball, "So...You excited?" Midge asked,

"About what?"

"Getting married."Cecelia looked at Elvis, her lip between her teeth, focusing on how he moved in his uniform, 

"I take that as a yes..." Midge laughed as Cecelia watched Elvis walk towards her,

 "Cece, can I uh see you for a second?"

"Sure thing, sugar."Taking him by the arm as they walked toward the kitchen. Elvis pinned her against the wall as he kissed her deeply with a firey hunger,

 "El...Here..." Cecelia blushed,

"Would'ja prefer the stairs..."

"Mhmm..." The two ran up as far as they could so no one could see them. Elvis lifted up the skirt of her dress as he removed her petticoat, pleased at the fact she was wearing pantyhose, 

"Planning for this, huh..."

"I don't know what you mean..." She smirked as he slipped in a finger. A sigh left her lips as her body shivered,

 "Oh, you don't..." 

"Elvis..." Cecelia's eyes were hazy as he smirked. She heard his belt unlatch as he whispered, "Hold on, darlin," Cecelia held onto the railings as she felt him slip inside her, her knees buckling from the two years without him inside her, 

"Mmm, I missed you..."

"I missed you too, El~vis..." She gasped as she felt him move a little, 

"God, I missed this..."Elvis groaned in her ear as she nodded. His hips began to pick up the pace as her moans were stifled, 

"I wanna hear you, baby..."

"But what about-"

"Who cares..." He began to reach deeper inside her as she let out a loud, whining moan. Her body yearned for him in need. And in want, as she turned to look at him, his lips on her neck leaving love bites as she gasped. He had missed how wet and warm she felt and the sounds she'd make with every thrust, 

"Oh! Oh!Oh!" Cecelia began to rub her clit as she felt herself getting closer. Elvis was almost there. He could taste it. He could feel just how tight her walls were gripping around him and nearly trying to drain him dry. He needs one more thrust, one more-

"HEY E YOU UP ..."

"Uh..." Cecelia and Elvis looked like deer in headlights as he pulled out. Elvis turned to face the wall as he zipped his pants back up, and Cecelia flattened out her dress. 

"Joe, how've you been..." Elvis coughed

"What were you two doing..."

"Uh... resting..."Cecelia smiled,

"Mhmm... Well, your dad's lookin for ya."

"We'll finish this tonight," Elvis whispered as Cecelia nodded,

"Welcome home, Elvis." She kissed him,

*Bonus* 

"You know tanks, rock and roll quite a bit." Elvis laughed as Cecelia watched from outside Vernons' office. She was happy to see him home where he belonged,