#yeah feelin normal about this

[scvlly]

“You have to get me away from him or I’m going to kill him!”

[please full view!!]

adding these thoughts about 12h after posting; I’m obsessed with the mourning veil visual and love that people noticed it in the tags. Laudna’s Form of Dread being so malleable between Delilah and Sun Tree is just. Such visual storytelling. I really feel like Marisha is showing her chops this campaign, her narrative choices and the visuals. Imogen, oh boy Imogen. Choosing to stay with Ashton was certainly a leaders choice, but not the choice she wanted to make… and then everything so soon after Laudna made her make that promise… this is also the first time I’ve drawn them in their new outfits… love Laudna’s lil bones 🥰

[ratislatis]

COME ON COME ON AND LOVE ME, NORMAL LY

[ceolocunt]

[bigwishes]

Tummy Trouble

Connor flexed at himself in the mirror, he'd been lifting for years but still was no where near as big as he dreamed to be. He looked at some of his buddies in the gym that had gotten bigger than him taking roids but Connor didn't want any of that crap, he wanted to get as big as he could naturally, without risking his health.

Still he couldn't help but wish he was so much bigger.

Connor was on his way out of the gym when someone stopped him.

"Hey bro," the man grabbed Connor by the arm

Connor turned to see a unbelievable tall man who was insanely muscular. The straps to his tank top where barely visable between his shoulders and traps, the length of his tank top wasn't quite long enough to cover up his entire torso and his gym shorts looked more like spandex underwear. Connor was both turned on by the sheer size of the guy and turned off, he was clearly a roid head.

"eer, hey man"

"hey bro you look real fit, are you training to get bigger?"

"yeah man, as big as I NATURALLY can" Connor made sure to pretty much shout naturally at the guy, he'd had too many roid heads try and sell him gear in the locker room before but never had one brave enough to try it out the front of the gym

"aw yeah man, nice nice, look I got a sample for you"

"sorry man, Im not into enhancements or roids or whatever"

"you got me all wrong bro, no roids, its free gym gear we are giving out some clothing samples and asking for feedback for payment"

Connor's face turned bright red with embarrassment, now he seemed like some entitled asshole who thought he was too good to even talk to anyone not natural.

"bro I'm so sorry, I just, normally when a guy like you asks me if I want a sample in the gym" Connor began to stumble over his words trying to back peddle realising he basically just called this guy a roidhead without proof

"a guy like me?"

"yeah, eerrrrr, ya know big and..."

The giant man began to laugh and slapped Connor on the back "I'm just fucking with you mate"

Connor let out a sigh of relief

"but hey mate, so you're all about the natural look yeah? but you also wanna be a massive tank?"

"yeah man, look I know I might be dreaming but I wanna be fucking huge, like you, I just don't wanna take any enhancements"

"I think I got something for you mate, here"

The giant handed Connor a small carboard box with the words "Big and Bulky" written in bold black letters and a gift card for $100 Food delivery service stapled to the top.

"Free of charge mate, put em on when you get home and I'm sure you'll be feelin like a freak in no time" The giant man winked.

Connor took the gift and continued to thank him multiple times trying to make up for the fool he'd made of himself just moments before. He got in his car and sank in his chair. He opened the box seeing a pair of briefs, he couldn't exactly try them on in his car, he thought it'd be better to just come back with some feedback tomorrow.

----------------

Connor stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, he began his normal flexing routine in his mirror but thoughts about being staying lean and small invaded his mind fairly quickly. He contemplated if staying natural was worth it if it meant he'll never get his dream body. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind Connor slipped on the briefs he was gifted earlier and......they felt like normal briefs. He couldn't work out how these were made special for athletes but at least he got a food gift card out of it.

Connor picked up his phone going to take a photo whilst he looked good in the light when suddenly a golden light began to shine off the waist band of the briefs. It was like sunlight was coming out of the fabric itself. He saw the letters B....I.....G slowly appear and he watched in the mirror as his body began to swell. His shoulders broadened, chest expanded with every breath, his arms began to swell up and soon his pecs and arms were competing for space. His thighs became tree trunks and he had to readjust his package so it didn't get crushed between them, even his feet began to grow outwards. Soon it all slowed down and all Connor could do was stare at himself in amazement.

Somehow, by literally magic he had swollen up into the size of his dreams. he couldn't help but start flexing and even licking his own bicep. A small noise, like a shop bell interrupted his self worship as a tiny slip of paper was ejected from the top of the box. Connor picked it up...

"Thank you for choosing Djinn.co transformative clothing, the transformative clothes you have chosen will permanently change your body, no need to workout to stay in shape never loose muscle keep the body of your dreams... NOTE: Your attendant for the day was Big Guy Bob he has added extra command words to your transformative clothing, we here at Djinn.co only print two command words on our clothing however your interaction with Bob had him convinced you deserved more"

Connor was amazed, surely this was a dream, there was no way he had stumbled into a pair of magic transforming clothes. As Connor was caught up in this thoughts light began to shine out of the other side of the waist band, the Connor felt his body start to get bigger. A part of him thought he should take the underwear off but he wanted to get bigger, he wanted to be a giant like the guy he met today. Another light began to shine from begin but Connor couldn't see. He flexxed in the mirror looking at the letters B...U....L....K....Y appear on the waist band. He flexed as hard as he could expecting to see his muscles to double in size again.

Connor's muscles became slightly large but nothing really changed. He dropped his arms to his side hearing his stomach make a slight gargling noise.

"awww, is that it, nothing even hap-"

*FWOOOMP

Connor almost fell forward as suddenly his six pack expanded into a loose gut. Hair quickly coated his entire body and he started sweating worse than he normally would at the gym.

"WHA...M...MY ABS...MY SIX PACK WHAT THE FUCK"

Connor rubbed his new tummy on the verge of tears.

"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"

His stomach let out a loud hungry growl as if almost to respond to him.

He picked up his phone and used the gift card to order some food, as if on auto pilot he spent the entire $100 instantly and even dropped another $100 from his own bank account on food.

Connor just stood in the mirror staring at his new belly disgusted. He had all the muscle he had dreamed of but felt his gut, pecs and ass wobble as he flexed. Soon the doorbell rang and Connor went to go grab his bags of food.

Bringing the bags in from inside and placing them on his kitchen bench his hands instantly dove in grabbed a handful of fries out the box without even taking the box from the bag, without realising he had stuff half the box of fries in his mouth, salt fell from his lips into his new forest of chest hair and he simply wiped his salt covered hand on his brief whilst opening a bottle of off the shelf protein shake. He began chugging it down and could feel little bits slips from his lips and into his new beard. Connor picked up all the bags and moved to his couch.

Connor blinked awake as if from a trance, all around him were empty plasic bottles from protein shakes and soft drinks, multiple empty fry boxes littered the look around him and he noticed his chest hair was tangled with salt, some burger lettuce and dried protein shake, his briefs were also covered in stain from where he had wiped his hands. He slid his briefs off noticing 3 words painted on the ass he didn't notice appear. "SWEATY, HAIRY, SLOB". Connor rubbed his new gut and tossed the briefs to the side.

His stomach began to gurgle and it sounded like a water cooler. He watched as his loose gut started to become firm.

"oh...god...whats happeneing now"

each time Connor inhaled his stomach felt worse

"I....god what the fuck"

A small ding noise interrupted Conners panting and panicing as another small slip of paper magically was printed out of the top of a closed chip box. Conner leant forward and read it.

"Hey man, Big Guy Bob here, today you expressed wanting to become a natural tank, so I made sure you got a pair to turn you into an absolute unit but I know you were worried about people thinking you might be on roids, just look at today you were so quick to think I was on them, so I added some key words to not only turn you into a huge tank but to turn you into a huge slob, enjoy the size bro"

Connor groaned as he tossed the note to the ground.

"FUUUUUUUCKKK IM SO.......BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP"

the pain subsided and his stomach went soft again. Connor stared at his enormous body in the reflection of the black glass of his TV.

"mm...mmaybe i can cut?" Conner said aloud, completely unaware of the cupcake he was stuffing into his mouth as he spoke...

-----------------------------------

I hope everyone who wanted me to write a weight gain story is happy with this one, this is probably as far as Ill every go with this kinda stuff but yall voted on it and I was happy to write it.

[plushish]

Resisting Temptation | Adam x Drunk!Reader

summary — In which Adam brings you home after a night out and manages not to be a complete degenerate, despite being tempted to when you start to drunkenly masturbate in front of him.

content — 1,744 words, fem reader, fem pronouns, smut, pre-established friendship (you're like best friends), masturbation, exhibitionism, some pining

a/n — my first story on here! wow!!!!! warning for drunken flirting, i guess slight dubcon? though adam is drunk too. also reader is kinda lute-coded

SMUT AHEAD !

“I had no idea you were such a fuckin’ lightweight,” Adam laughs boisterously, with you sprawled in his bed with eyes you can barely keep open, warmth burning through your every limb. The sensation wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, just overwhelming coupled with all the other shit going on with your other senses. At least you were somewhere comfortable instead of on the cold tiles of the club’s bathroom floor, which was where he’d found you after you disappeared for thirty minutes. You’d take the smell of his sweaty sheets over the stained, cold tiles any day.

You were familiar with this space, having come here many times prior to. Whether it was for a house party, a jam session, or just to crash for a bit, you’d been in this very spot on his bed too many times to not be comfortable here.

“I can’t take your shit right now, just shut up for a bit, please.“ You slur out, earning a grumpy mumble from him, something along the lines of ‘don’t tell me to fucking shut up’. You were more concerned about the unbearable temperature in your face and your core, lazily lifting your shirt up your midriff to try and remedy some of it.

“Whoa, feelin’ hot are we? Tryna show me something?”

Your intentions were certainly not to make yourself appealing to the man in the room with you. Adam was just like that. He would get excited over a woman bending over to tie her shoe. It wasn’t that you were suddenly attracted to him– but something about him misinterpreting your action coupled with the way his voice, intoxicated with a sensual undertone and a hint of his sleazy charm, flicked the switch in your brain soaked with alcohol. “Yeah, it’s too hot,” you breathe with a sudden intensity. “Need it off.”

After a night of warm bodies near yours and some appetitive dancing, you had some lasting energy pent up– and whatever sort of restraint that normally keeps you from your deepest impulses is turned off at that moment. You spread your thighs and begin to tug down your bottoms.

Adam’s face heats up slightly, but for once, he stays quiet on his side of the room. Changes into something more comfortable and just watches as you toss your pants and underwear to a miscellaneous pile of his laundry in the corner.

In Adam’s bed, you feel right at home. Though it’s not something either of you have ever brought up or discussed, there is nothing that strikes you as particularly odd about stripping down in front of him to start touching yourself.

“...Cute,” He chuckles softly, sitting in his lounge chair. Getting lost in his own drunken haze, he drops his chin in his hand to watch with half-lidded eyes as you drunkenly spread yourself open.

“ ‘m not cute… I’m sexy,” You playfully correct him, rum on your lips. Though his breath smells of alcohol too, it’s much more prevalent on you, floating in the air around you. Suddenly feeling a little hot himself, he makes his way to his en suite bathroom, where he fills a glass with some water. You were way too far gone. He was too.

Adam makes his way back to your side of the bed. “Sit up, bitch,” he instructs crudely, but you obey. Standing right next to you, he tries not to pay your ministrations any mind, but still listens to the slick sound of it with a flush in his face.

Adam brings the cup to your lips with a little bit of annoyance as you sway from side to side, making him spill some down your chin along the way with a groan, a ‘fuckin’ damnit [Name]’, and an impatient sigh. Despite this, you drink obediently, wrapping your other hand around Adam’s to hold the glass in place, which only makes its contents slosh around more thanks to your disoriented movements.

“Holy fuck, slow down dude,” He complains as you chug wildly, still clumsily going at your own cunt with your other hand.

When he pulls the glass away from your mouth, you inhale sharply and deeply as you catch your breath from your unrestrained drinking.

“Don’t wanna,” you say breathlessly, a rivulet of water dripping down the corner of your lip. He stares, takes in the shine on your moistened lips in the dimly lit room. “Feels too good.”

Your tone is uncharacteristically seductive. He’s never seen you like this before. Adam sets the glass on a nightstand and sits on the bed next to you, your backs both against the headboard, same like how he does when you come over to binge shows and rot in bed with him for hours, sometimes days at a time.

“Really can’t stop?” He asks, a little irritated by the fact you’re bringing it up, making the awkwardness of trying to veer his attention away even more challenging.

“Yeah,” you hum, eyes closed. “Needed this so bad.”

He can’t keep himself from taking a glance– your shirt furled up, showing the expanse of skin there, a hand over your drooling cunt. Inches away from him.

“Hey, [Name],” he says in a serious but equally sultry tone all of a sudden.

“Yeeeaaah?” You sing-song.

“You’re really sexy.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you’re such a little doll. Fuckin’ cute,” He praises uncharacteristically, now stroking your hair with a gentleness you had scarcely ever seen from him before. Definitely the alcohol. He watches the way your lips form a lazy drunken smile, blissed out from your own touching. You watch his droopy eyes stare at you with some sort of intensity that you can’t quite read through your inebriated lens, but in your mind, you equate it with the same douchebag look you’ve seen in most other shitty men when they want sex.

“We have to fuck,” you suddenly blurt out.

His eyes widen into saucers.

Why now?

“Do we?” Adam asks casually, a little flippantly, as if he wasn’t completely stoked on the idea. Grinning slyly as if he hasn’t already suggested that a hundred times before, acting coy as if you hadn’t ignored his sexual advances for as long as he’s known you.

You nod very seriously while hopelessly trying to achieve more stimulation through your disoriented touching, your lower half raising off the mattress for a moment.

“Gonna have to turn that one down, babe,” he replies cooly, and in his mind, he pats himself on the back for actually turning down sex with you. “I’ll keep you in mind for next time though, ‘kay?”

You groan at his arrogance. “You’re unreal,” you spit, “so fucking annoying…” slurring and mumbling to yourself about something incoherent, and he snorts as he hears you ramble on, something under your breath about ‘blue balls’.

He’d be lying if he said his dick wasn’t achingly hard in his pants, but he won’t take advantage of you. This isn’t how he hoped it would happen, as loath as he is to admit to himself something as emotionally vulnerable as that. Maybe a little selfish.

He was definitely storing mental pictures and notes away for his own personal use later, but for now, he’s fine with just petting your head while you fuck yourself on your fingers.

“You’re just afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle me.” You say suddenly.

God. Fuck. He’s used to this type of behaviour from you, but not within a context like this. This is a real trial. It takes almost everything in him not to verbally challenge you back, so many possible sleazy responses he could give you. He’s no stranger to setting a mood. So many ways to provoke or tease you.

But he doesn’t, instead opting to ignore you with a grumbled and nonchalant “Yeah, okay, whatever” as he reaches for the remote to flick on the TV. Actions speak louder than words or whatever. Part of him hopes you’ll remember this later.

You scoff, too drunk and too enveloped in your own stimulation to care. You had other things to tend to.

He manages to veer his attention after that, his head turned to where his screen displays a rerun of some 4 AM cartoon. He tries to focus on the bouncing characters rather than what’s tempting him on the other edge of the bed.

A dull sight compared to you, naked from the waist down and still rubbing your cunt, a little slower now, distracted by the TV. Just next to him, fingers pressed against where your blood is swollen and sensitive. You spread yourself and feel how wet you are. Adam can hear the drooling sound of it so clearly, somehow tasteful to him, like light rainfall over a pond or a bathing suit dripping into a tub; sleepy summer sounds.

“Can you just rub your dick against my clit a little?” You ask, moving your fingers as if to give illustration of the idea, so swollen.

“Show me how you like to do it,” Adam proposes instead. “what gets you off best.”

You lean into him, letting out a pleased hum. In his own drunken haze though, he can’t help himself from it when he presses sloppy wet kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your swollen lips that taste so strongly of alcohol. You accept the kisses plainly while your fingers slot against your clit, pinching lightly. You moan breathily, hot against his lips.

God, you’re too fucking precious. He wants to be inside you so badly. He fuckin’ would be, if he were just a little bit worse of a person, if he happened to not give a fuck about you, if you weren’t already gasping and cumming, leaking onto the sheets of his bed.

“Good girl. Bet your pussy feels better now, huh?”

“Yeah...” You say with a yawn, the aftertaste of your orgasm already beckoning your body to rest.

“Get to sleep. You’ll need rest when I make you regret putting all this shit on me tomorrow.”

“Hey, Adam…”

“‘Sup?” He asks with that signature douchey indifference.

You scoot forward, tucking your head under his jaw. Lean into his neck and breathe against the pulse there.

Are you going to say it…?

“I’ve gotta piss,” you slur out. “and puke a little, probably.”

Adam deflates with disappointment.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” He sighs in defeat, before tossing the blankets back off of you and slipping a hand under your legs to carry you.

i didnt proofread this cuz ive read it a thousand times already but anyway let me know if u see any spelling mistakes at all, before someone else gets the chance to see them cuz that would be embarrassing and i'd have to boil myself alive

[pedge-page]

High reader x high Joel unf hell yeah we love some intox kink

New Heights

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: ya girl has never been high, never smoked da weeds, so sorry if whatever lingo i'm using is totally inaccurate.

Warnings: FWB, unprotected sex, slight manipulative Joel, weed, smoking, drugs (?), intoxicated, cheating, dub con if you squint, Joel's pretty shady and takes advantage of reader

18+ ONLY

- - - -

His hands feel even better on you now that you’ve removed your tattered jeans and top. And with the way he’s gazing at you, with his half lidded yet dilated eyes and permanent curl to his plush sinful lips, it couldn’t just be from the shit ton of weed you two just smoked.

“You roll them better than I ever did,” he cough as he flicks his own spent joint to the tray on the table, his arm wrapped securely around your lower back so you don’t even consider whether he’ll knock you off. He settles back against the couch and resumes watching you, stroking your soft skin up and down with his tough knuckles. 

Joel prides himself on being your best friend since high school. He’s always had your back, whether from boys you were dating, high stress customers at work, or even less than ideal familial situations, Joel Miller was the remedy. 

Course, when he first convinced your stuck up ass to get high, he didn’t expect you to strip to your underwear and bra and sit on his lap to take a nap. 

Since then, he’s been chasing that high from you any time you ‘drop by’.

“Be honest,” you hum, sifting your fingers through his hair as he takes another drag. “Did Tommy tell you I was in town?”

“Nope,” he lies casually. He rolls his tongue over his lower lip while squishing your tits in your push up bra. “Just had a feelin’ you’d be here.”

“Mhm.” You tilt your head back and breathe in the heavily fogged air. Sober you would be hesitant to have your panty clad crotch on top of Joel’s whopping bulge. But as your thoughts slow, simplify, you can’t deny: he’s got a pretty tent.

“How’s the boyfriend?”

Rolling you eyes, you lean forward, putting both arms next to his ears to rest atop the couch headrest. He doesn’t lose your gaze. Normal eye to eye contact when you’re just nose kisses apart would be so fucking weird if not completely wasted, and if not for Joel, who’s got such a different aura when he’s like this.

Or maybe it’s when you’re like this.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

“That bad, huh?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it was all great.”

“Mmm.” His eyes briefly cast down top your supply pouty lips then back up. If your boyfriend were any threat to him, he’d bother to remember the dumb fuck’s name. But if you’re still climbing up to him for a little session in his lap over and over again, he’s got nothing to worry about. “S’alright. Like it when not all is great. Get to spend more time with ya.”

You tilt your head to the side and grin. “Then kiss me.”

He blows the smoke into your mouth just as your tongues collide. All of your senses are simultaneously elevated and dulled. You’re a little more out of It then he is, which makes it easier, for his fingers to lightly trace along your bra and unclasp the band from behind, your straps falling effortlessly while you’re glued to his tongue. You pull back with a groan, eyes fluttering close as Joel cups both your breasts in his big hands and massages them.

“You like it when I take care of ya needs.”

“Yeahhh,” you sigh contently, getting lost in his expert touch. 

Laying back slightly, with your palms propped on his knees, you can’t help but roll your hips, your clothed core rubbing along his bulge. With his tongue caught curled between his teeth, he stares, hypnotized, as one finger hooks in the line of your cute cotton underwear and tugs it up, pulling it taught right between your folds. 

He sits forward quickly, unzipping his pants. “Let me put it in this time,” he breathes into your neck, kissing your pulse gently. 

Your judgement feels more cloudy than normal, but it doesn’t seem to be having lasting effects on Joel. 

“Joel, I don’t—I don’t know.” Your arm secures itself over his shoulders and back as he grinds his lap up into you with slight fervor.

 “I’ll make it good, I promise.” He plants his soft wet lips atop your tits. “Always make it good for ya, don’t I?”

You nod in agreement over his shoulder just as he tugs his length free from his pants. 

Despite your hesitation and trust in his words, Joel’s gotta remind his more sober self to not get too ahead of himself. He rubs his tip along your slicked entrance, biting down his growls. But when you purr so pretty in his lap, so pliant and open minded to any of his suggestions, he can’t help but want to rush you ahead.

You gasp when he slides his cock into your tight walls. 

“J-Joel,” you whine. You begin to pull away, the sesation of his member splitting you open suddenly making the dog dissipate in your mind.

But he soothes it all over when he captures your lips again. You visibly settle in his slap, effectively sliding him deeper into you until he’s filling you to the brim, balls snuggly twitching against your lower ass cheeks. 

“Don’t go back to him,” he rasps. the bridge of his nose nudges your cheek, urging you to listen only to him. “Stay. Stay with me this time.”

You nod again, this time seeking his lips yourself. He rocks you back and forth steadily on his dick.

Maybe the little extra something he put in your stash will stick in your mind by tomorrow morning, and for as long as he can hold on to you.   - - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[artyandink]

You should definitely do an imagine of Jensen's characters reacting to stretch marks!! I need that 😜😔

nature’s beauty

SUMMARY: You have stretch marks. How would the boys react to that?

TW: Body image, issues with stretch marks— but they’re normal girlies, I have them too, Jensen’s characters being normal about it cause yeah, mild angst, mild smut, mentions of sex, making out, spice

SONG INSPO: Golden Hour by JVKE, Scars to Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara

DEAN WINCHESTER

Dean kissed down your body, undoing your jeans and pushing them down. He had you on your back in his bed, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he marked your skin like the possessive son of a bitch he was, taking your panties with them. “Fuck, baby, you’re gorgeous.”

Dean was the type of guy to hit on every girl he saw, but that’s cause he found them beautiful. Shape or size. Then he met you, and he kept coming back for more and eventually made you his girlfriend after being a charming son of a bitch instead. He normally kissed every dip and curve he found, but today, you pressed your thighs together.

Not in a sexy way. You’d closed your legs. That was a problem— were you ok? You weren’t hurt, right? Or maybe you were on your period, but he didn’t see a pad on your panties and your cycle would be coming way too early— better to ask you.

“You ok, sweetheart?” Dean asked you, lifting his head up and sitting back on his heels, and you were turned on by the sight of his freckled, muscled upper body but also scared he’d get turned off by seeing the stretch marks that had appeared on your stomach and upper thighs. Well, not so much appeared, but you figured you lost some weight.

You nodded, trying to not look at the very obvious stretch marks and play your crippling insecurity off at the same time. “Yeah, I’m good.”

But Dean’s eyes followed yours, and they landed on the stretch marks, and his thumbs immediately moved to trace them. “Darlin’, you can’t seriously think I’m gonna mind these.” Then he saw the embarrassed look on your face, and he kissed down your stretch marks, which surprised you. “God, I love ‘em. It’s nature, baby. Shows you’re a damn beautiful woman with damn beautiful normal things. And guess what?”

He climbed back up until your face was level with his, and he gave you a kiss that blew your mind, took your breath away. “You’ve earned yourself a first class, five star worshipping.”

Your eyes widened, knowing what that meant. “Wait, Dean—”

Your legs went over his shoulders, a wicked grin on his face. “Can’t have my gorgeous girl feelin’ insecure, hm? So you’re gonna feel good. All. Night. Long.”

BEN

You’d just come off the effects of giving birth, and man, when Ben realised that one, you had his kid and two, you were ready to get fucked into oblivion again, he was ecstatic. You’d had a baby girl, Austin, named after the city (“Austin? What the fuck kinda name is— wait, that’s actually perfect.”) and she quickly became a daddy’s girl, as Ben promised you she would as soon as he held the baby in his gigantic hands.

But then there came the problem of stretch marks.

Your belly had, in your words, ‘deflated’, but now you were left with the horror of stretch marks, which kind of made you think. What would Ben say? He loved his women ripe and pretty and perfect, what would he say if he saw those marks on your skin?

You found out when you were standing shirtless in your bedroom, inspecting the marks when Ben stepped in, and his libido fired up the moment he saw you standing with only your bra on. That’d be torn off in a few moments, he was sure.

“Hello, sexy mama.” He grinned wolfishly, stepping behind you, dropping his lips to your neck as his hands rubbed over the stomach that held his kid. “Don’t know about you, but I’m lookin’ to pamper my gorgeous wife and the mother of my kid. Gonna make you come so many times, I swear to God.”

But when you stopped his hand from going down the front of your pants, he raised his eyebrows. Not the time? Or… did someone hurt you?

“Sweetcheeks, did something happen?” He asked, his brow now furrowing. Ben was an impatient man. “I swear, baby girl, you tell the name of the motherfucker who hurt you and I’ll-”

“You don’t see them?” You asked in confusion, and his eyes travelled around the room and then back to you in mirrored emotion. See what? What the fuck was he supposed to see?

Ben chuckled, cupping your cheek. “Did you get into my weed? Are you high, gorgeous?”

“No, I’m not high.” You smiled despite yourself, and gestured down to your stomach, rubbing over the marks. “These. You don’t… see them? You don’t care?”

Ben scoffed, his hand resting over yours to stop them from moving. “Why the fuck should I care when this is proof that you carried our kid? Shit, darlin’, you did that for nine months. If anything, that’s a mark of a damn strong woman, and that? It turns me on. Gets me going.” A kiss to your neck. “Gets me rock hard.” Another kiss, pressing himself fully against your back so you could feel it. “Ain’t no life in which you won’t turn me on, babydoll.”

It brought a smile to your face.

“Now, you’re gonna sit pretty, and I’m gonna fuck this crap out of that gorgeous little head’a yours.”

Shit.

BEAU ARLEN

“H-Hey, Beau, c’mon, that tickles!” You were lying on your back on the bed, your shirt pushed up while Beau kissed over your stretch marks, beard tickling your skin while his hands held your hips in place.

But the Texan cowboy looked up with a shit-eating grin, pressing another kiss to another mark. “You’re the one who felt insecure about this, darlin’. I’ve gotta give it some good old Texan lovin’, so you brought this on yourself.”

He continued kissing over them, fingers tracing them while you couldn’t help but giggle and squirm, but also feel reassured. “Come on, handsome, I get the point.”

Beau still gave you an indignant look paired with a smirk— the stubborn bastard. “No can do, gorgeous. Can’t tear myself away from these. It’s like they’re magnetic.” He continued pressing kisses to them, chuckling under his breath.

His hands kneaded your hips, then rubbed comfortingly up and down your sides, humming at every press of his lips to your stretch marks as if he belonged there.

Beau kissed up your body, then nuzzled his nose against yours before pressing a slow kiss to your lips, covering your hand that came up to cup his cheek, your giggles dissolving into an identical hum. His lips were soft, and they felt like home. He was your home.

When he pulled back, Beau took your hand in his and pressed kisses to your knuckles this time, then every finger.

“I love every inch’a you, sugar.” He rumbled with a loving smile, brushing your hair out of your face. “Don’t you ever forget that, y’hear me?”

CJ BRAXTON

You and CJ were cuddling on the pull-out couch in your co-ed, your head tucked into the crook of his neck while his arms were around you like a koala. His hand rubbed up and down your side over your shirt, fingers lightly brushing your skin and tracing patterns.

It was no secret to anyone that CJ adored you so much it could give him a cavity with how sweet he was on you. He kept on looking down at you, a small smile on his face while he thought of how much of a lucky bastard he was.

His hand slipped under your shirt, not to initiate anything like sex but to just feel you closer, but his fingers brushed your stretch marks and he instantly felt your hand take his wrist, stopping him. That set him off into a world of worry.

“Woah, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, frowning as his eyes abandoned the movie, instantly locking on you. “Everything ok? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, it’s fine, just don’t wanna be touched there.” You murmured, kissing his cheek, but he didn’t believe that. His hand slowly lifted up your shirt, watching you for any signs of extreme discomfort, or even slight. But you didn’t stop him, so when he saw your stretch marks, he raised his eyebrows with a smile.

“Hey, there, beautiful.” He chuckled, rubbing his thumb over them. “Where have you been hiding?”

Wait, what? He didn’t mind?

“You don’t- you’re not grossed out, or you don’t hate them?” You asked, severely confused but hopeful. And slightly embarrassed that you immediately expected him to hate them.

CJ’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, and he kissed your forehead. “Being grossed out by these is like being grossed out when you get your period, and I love you even more when you’re on your period. I get to cuddle with you and love you. This right here just gives me an extra opportunity to show you how beautiful you are. These are normal. It’s a natural process, and I’m a nature guy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.” He grinned, kissing you briefly but sweetly, and it melted all your nerves. He was controversially perfect, you thought, and that made you love him even more.

Damn him.

“Thank you.” You sighed, cupping his cheek. He responded with a smile and kissed the inside of your wrist, rubbing the marks on your skin with a grin on your face.

CJ looked down to the stretch marks, kissing you deeply. “Don’t you ever think anything about you makes you less than.” He murmured against your lips, hand coming up to cup your chin.

ALEC MCDOWELL

Alec McDowell, a cocky-ass son of a bitch. He knew it, everyone knew it, and he did well to remind everyone of it whenever he opened his goddamn mouth. However, he was your cocky-ass son of a bitch, because he was your boyfriend.

As he was a transgenic and you were a human, he’d heard of stretch marks but never seen them on a person because transgenics didn’t have bodily imperfections. It was practically impossible. So when you opened up to him about your insecurities about them, well, he was more than willing to comfort you even if he was inwardly confused as fuck.

You were beautiful. What was this nonsense?

“I don’t see anything that ain’t beautiful, if that’s what you’re asking.” He shrugged, being a little shit and acting as if your stretch marks didn’t exist. “In fact, I see some gorgeous tiger stripes. Absolutely stunning.”

The comparison had you chucking a throw pillow to him, which he caught, obviously. “Alec!”

Alec gave you a grin, setting the pillow aside and catching another one. “What, you’re telling me those things don’t look like tiger stripes? Come on, dollface. Be entirely honest.” He pointed at the stretch marks with a sexy smirk that would’ve had your knees weak not for the situation. “Tiger. Stripes. Cause you’re fierce. Majestic.”

“You’re actually crazy.” Despite yourself, you were grinning like a lovesick idiot.

“Crazy for you, baby.” He replied with a wink, setting the pillow aside before reaching the bed with his advanced speed, beginning to kiss your neck. “Now, about that body of yours…”

JASON TEAGUE

“Wait- hold on for a moment.” Jason raised an eyebrow, pulling back from kissing you senseless on your bed. “You saying ‘I wanna show you something’ wasn’t code for sex? Baby, we gotta make signals more clear.”

You lifted your shirt, showing Jason the marks around your stomach. His eyebrows raised slightly at them, and you bit your lip. “Is this ok with you?”

Is this ok?

Is this ok?

“Should it not be?” He raised his eyebrow with a small smile. “I’m not fazed by these, sweetheart. In fact, the fact that you have normal bodily reactions, that makes you more gorgeous to me. In fact, the knowledge that you breathe turns me on, because it’s normal.” You could practically taste the amusement in his words, and you swatted his shoulder with a laugh.

“Alright, I get it.” You pouted, and he let out a small ‘aww’ and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your temple. “I get it.”

Jason hummed, cupping your chin so he could turn it for a slow kiss. “Look, I’m gonna revert back to… seventh grade. I think. And I have no shame in it, especially not when I say that I think you’re really pretty. And I think you’re smart, and funny, and you have a killer body - that’s not seventh grade - but my point is that nothing about that bothers me. Ok? So don’t let it bother you, I don’t love you any less.”

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[strang3lov3]

Troublemaker (Brain Scramblies 2)

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader

Summary: Joel is bad at feelings and distances himself from you after your concussion, and faces his feelings on patrol with you.

Warnings: Smut smut smut of all varieties, so like oral m and f receiving, PIV. Ya know the drill!!! 18+ MDNI! Joel is bad at feelings. Kind of slow burn, asshole Joel. Very sweet sex! Age gap oops

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: SURPRISE MOTHAFUCKAS!!!! BRAIN SCRAMBLIES 2 AT 10PM ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT!! My bf recently informed me you’re not supposed to sleep when you have a concussion so my bad guys sorry for giving you all brain damage that's on me ALSO THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON BRAIN SCRAMBLIES! Here’s part two for all who asked!! Like brain scramblies, I don't love this but there was an overwhelming demand for part two and I was concerned for y'alls sanity. Also I changed the title again oops.

Read the first story here! It can be read as a standalone but I highly recommend reading Brain Scramblies first!

Please please please comment and reblog if you enjoy!

Joel ended up falling asleep with you. He woke up early and quietly excused himself from your bed. God, how pretty you looked sound asleep. With your puffy lips and quiet snoring. The way your hair fell across your face. He pushed your hair away from your eyes and left. 

Stupid. So fucking stupid. 

You didn’t mean any of it, any of what happened last night. Joel was a fool for indulging in your concussed words and letting himself believe any of it was real. He placed too much meaning on last night. 

He’d need to work hard to erase the way you made him feel. He needs to forget how he loved taking care of you, how he wants to be the one to make you feel better after a long day or when you’re sick. How he wants to spend all of his time making you smile. He needs to erase all of his love and adoration for you. 

In the morning, Tommy took you to the doctor. Your head was still sore and pounding slightly, but the doctor assured you that with a week’s worth of rest, you’d be back to normal. Honestly, you’d be better in a day or two but it’s best to take it easy for a while longer, just in case. 

You were in the waiting room while the doctor prepared some medicine for you. Some tea to help with the headaches and nausea, and some pain meds. Tommy was sitting right next to you. 

“Feelin’ alright, honey?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Hurting a little but I’ll be fine,” you replied. Your head was still tender, and likely would be for a while. 

“Up for dinner on Friday? As long as you’re feeling okay, of course,”

“Yeah, yeah. Only if Maria is cooking, of course,” you teased him. Tommy wasn’t a great cook, unfortunately. 

Tommy chuckled. “Well, that’s a given. Joel will be there too. You remember him taking you home last night?”

You shook your head. “I thought you and Maria took me home. It was Joel?” Your memories were fuzzier than you realized. 

Tommy’s lips curled in a sly smirk. “Yeah, no. It was Joel. You don’t remember anything you said to him?” You shook your head again. “Well, you were flirtin’ pretty hardcore.”

Your cheeks burned and flushed. “No,” you groaned, burying your face in your palms. 

“Oh, yes. Called him handsome left and right. Never seen him so bashful before. He was pink as a flamingo, honey,” he said. “Course, that was only at the bar. He didn’t tell me if you said anything else about your little crush when he took you home.”

“No, no. You’re lying, Tommy,” you whined. This cannot be fucking happening. What did you do? 

Tommy shook his head. “It’s the truth, I’m afraid,”

You were embarrassed. Actually, you were way past embarrassed. Mortified. Humiliated. 

Tommy could see what you were thinking, the excuses you were making up in your head. “Don’t you think about canceling dinner, now. Maria’s making your favorite pot roast, with all those carrots and potatoes,”

Your eyes were pleading with his, his own twinkling with amusement. You opened your mouth to speak, but the doctor interrupted. 

“Alright, now. Tea is for the nausea and headaches, it can be a little bitter so I’d suggest adding some honey. These pain meds will help with the throbbing,” he said. He instructed Tommy to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re hanging in there. 

You both thanked the doctor and left the infirmary then. Tommy relented his teasing, seeing as how you were so close to combusting in embarrassment. 

The week passes slowly. It’s boring, so fucking boring. You do puzzles, read your favorite books, work on your blanket you’ve been knitting. Sip your tea. And each day, all you can think about is Joel. What you said to him, what you don’t know you said to him. 

It’s Friday. Tonight’s the night you’ve been dreading all week. As you make your way to Tommy and Maria’s home, you go over your plan in your head. Just be polite, like always. Apologize to Joel and make nice. Then go home, and the next time you’re on patrol with Joel it will all be back to normal. Right?

No. Not right. 

“Hi,” you say to Joel. Tommy’s setting the table, Maria is putting the finishing touches on her meal. 

Joel only grunts in response, never once meeting your eyes. You might as well have said hi to a brick wall or a houseplant. 

“How’s your week been?” 

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Your head, uh, feelin’ any better?” He speaks like he’s in pain, like each word stings and aches as it rolls off of his tongue. 

“Yeah. It’s better, mostly. Tommy said you walked me home, and I guess–”

Joel cut you off. “Dinner’s ready,” 

Wow. So it’s like that. 

You sit next to Joel at the table, who never once speaks to you the entire meal, save for a “Pass the potatoes, please,” or “I need the gravy,” here and there. You’d never experienced such an awkward dinner before. And Joel was never your biggest fan, but he had never been so rude and short with you before. You felt it was a little undeserved, given you had no control over the situation last week.

Luckily, Tommy and Maria fill the air with conversation to make up for Joel’s shitty and impersonal attitude. Within a few hours, dinner is over. Tommy begins clearing the table as you and Joel get dressed to leave. You bid all of them goodbye, and then leave. Dinner didn’t go the way you planned, but nothing ever does. At least it was finally over. 

“Walk her home, Joel,” Maria says sternly, watching you through the window. “Come on. It’s the least you can do after icing her out all evening.” “She’s fine. Concussion healed.”

“Don’t care, brother,” Tommy interjects. “Walk her home, or you’re cleaning the stables for the next six months. Go. Think y’all have some stuff to talk about, anyway.”

“This is ridiculous,” Joel mumbles as Tommy and Maria both hug him goodbye. But he does it anyway.

He meets you a little ways away from their home, the crunch of leaves under his footsteps startling you. “Let’s move. I’m walkin’ you home again,” he says. 

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” you reply, surprised. No doubt Tommy and Maria forced him into this. 

Joel says nothing. He’s silent the entire walk home, silent as he leaves you on your porch. 

You’re in disbelief. You were expecting to maybe laugh a bit over the situation last week, but not this. Who knew Joel hated being flirted with so much? He takes quick steps, never once looking back to make sure you make it inside your home okay. 

Fuck it.

“Joel,” you call out. “Come here.”

Joel turns around, eyeing you with a frown. “What do you want now? You’re home.” 

“Come here.” your voice is stern and demanding.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, true to dramatic Joel fashion. When he steps up onto your porch and stands in front of you, he stares at you with a blank expression, his eyes are cold. “What,” he says flatly. No trouble at the end of his sentence, like he usually calls you. It stings.

“What happened last week? When you walked me home, after my concussion.”

“Nothin’. Nothin’ happened,” 

“Are you sure? Because Tommy said I was flirting with you at the bar, and I don’t know if I said something rude or what but I…” you trail off. “I don’t know. I just want to know what happened.”

Joel sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t say anything rude,” 

“Then what? What did I say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” 

“Then tell me,” 

“I said it doesn’t matter,” 

“It matters to me,”

Joel steps away from you, sitting on one of your chairs. He won’t look at your face. “Fine,” he says gruffly. “You called me handsome.” 

“Tommy told me,” you say quietly, your voice is small. “Listen-”

“About a million times, actually. It’s all you could say for a minute there,” His tone is beginning to soften, but he’s still grumpy and bothered. “Gave me a nickname, too.” “I did?” 

“You did,” 

“What was it?” you step closer to him, taking a seat in the chair next to where he’s sitting.

“Joelie,” he says. “You called me Joelie.” 

“Joelie, huh?” you mumble, half to Joel, half to yourself. “Was that all?”

Joel is looking off into the distance, the cool air is biting at his ears and nose. “No, there was a little more,”

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“No, I don’t think so. No reason to,” he pauses for a second, remembering. “I’ve got a fuckin’ bone to pick with you, though.”

“Clearly,” you reply with a sarcastic tone. “What’d I do, other than call you handsome?”

“You fuckin’ pinched me. Again,” he turns to face you. “You have a real problem keepin’ your hands to yourself, you know that?” he scolds you angrily.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips. “You probably deserved it! You always do, you’re such a dick,” 

Joel scoffs, it’s almost a chuckle. “Maybe. I wasn’t actin’ like a dick that night, though. Not enough to warrant you pinchin’ me,”

You’re puzzled. Why else would you pinch Joel, if not as a punishment for acting like an asshole? “Then why did I pinch you?”

Joel turns red then. Like, really blushes. His ears and cheeks are bright and rosy. He’s flamingo pink, just like Tommy said. 

“Why, Joel?”

“You said I have an ass like a uh…a peach,” he whispers. “And then you–”

It’s your turn to blush now. “No,” you interrupt. “I didn’t. Joel, tell me I didn’t pinch your ass.”

He nods, silently. 

“I am so fucking sorry, Joel,” you apologize frantically. You were a fucking menace!! “Please. That was so inappropriate.”

“It’s fine, trouble. Was kinda cute, actually. You said I have eyes like coffee beans too. Never heard that one before,”

Trouble. 

“And that’s all?”

“You said you’ve got this great, big, humongous, gigantic crush on me,” he says through a sigh, his tone is defeated. Sarcastic, even. “That was really it, though.”

He doesn’t mention all the times you asked him to fuck you. He’s not a sadist, you’re embarrassed enough already. In fact, you’re so embarrassed and in your own head that you don’t even pick up on the sadness in his voice. 

You open your mouth to apologize, to explain. Joel speaks first. 

“Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t mean any of it,”

And then he sits up, making his way to step down off of your porch. He turns to you one more time before leaving, you can’t place his expression. He looks almost sullen, almost heartbroken. 

“Goodnight, trouble.” 

He leaves. Once again, you weaseled your way too close to his heart.

And that’s the last you really speak to Joel.

You’re not on patrol with Joel very often, but he’s even quieter when you are paired up. Not in the rude kind of way like at dinner, but in a sheepish sort of way. Like he’s embarrassed, or sad, or feels nervous to speak to you. The confident, cocky Joel is long gone. He rejects all of your attempts at conversation, and it leaves you heartbroken and baffled. 

If only he knew how you felt about him. If only he’d let you speak. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s a chilly and rainy fall day, you and Joel are holed up in an old home on patrol together. It’s been maybe a month, a month and a half since that night on your porch.

He’s not really speaking to you, except to give you instructions here and there. You’re getting sick of his attitude. So standoffish and cold.

You wonder what went wrong that night. He was never all that friendly with you, but he was never like this. He looked right past you, like you were a phantom. Not really there.

You’re knitting your blanket, sitting on a window seat. The rain is pitter pattering against the glass. Joel is stoking the flames in the fireplace. The only sounds are the clicks of your knitting needles and the crackle of the fire. There’s a tupperware of snickerdoodles you brought for him, sitting untouched. It was your olive branch. He didn’t even thank you for them.

“What do you think of my blanket?” You hold the blanket up for him, various shades of green yarn arranged in a rippling pattern. 

Joel takes a quick glance, barely even looking, then grumbles something. 

“Joel? I didn’t hear you,”

“I said it’s fine,” he snaps at you.

You sigh, knitting your blanket furiously. What a fucking dick. “You know what? You don’t have to be such a fucking asshole all the time, you know that?”

“Fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“I said that you don’t have to be an asshole all the time,” you spit.

“I’m not–”

“You are. And I don’t even know why!” you laugh wryly. “All you do is fucking ignore me. And I don’t get it, Joel. I don’t know why I even try with you.”

Joel tries to speak, but you don’t let him. 

“I get it, okay? I made you uncomfortable when I called you handsome and pinched your ass and everything that night. I’m sorry,”

Joel is still stoking the fire, giving you no attention.

“I’m serious. I had a fucking brain injury, I had no control over my actions or my words. And I’m sorry,”

Joel’s not listening to your words. He’s so in his own head, he’s not absorbing any of it. All he hears you say is “I didn’t mean anything I said, I don’t feel anything towards you,” Rub it in some more, why don’t you? I’m not in love with you and I don’t think you have nice eyes like I said.

“I do have a little crush on you, okay? You do have nice eyes and a nice nose, and you’re the most handsome man I’ve met in my life. But it doesn’t give you the right to act like this,” you snapped. “I know it made you uncomfortable because I’m too young for you or whatever, so I want you to know I am sorry. Genuinely. Can you please drop the dickhead act now?”

Joel freezes, thrown off.

“Joel,” you demand. 

“Say that again,” he says. He’s looking at you finally.

“I’m sorry,” 

“No, not that,” he waves his hand. “About my nose.”

“I like your nose,”

Joel never liked his nose. But you do. The strong shape, the freckles and scars. It fits him perfectly. “You mean that?”

“Of course. Why else would I say it?” you say bitterly. God, he is so far up his own ass you wonder if he even knows what the sun looks like.

“Why?” he asks you, a smile is threatening to curl his lips upward. 

“The shape, I don’t know. Your freckles,” you say through a sigh. “That’s what you’re getting from this? Can you please just let me apologize for harassing you?”

“No,” he responds. “Tell me more. About my eyes, again.” Joel stands up now, looking at you from a few feet away.

You shake your head. Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough for him? “Why? Thought I told you they look like coffee beans,”

“Humor me,” he says, his voice low, stepping toward you now. Your heartbeat picks up its pace as he considers his next move. He sits next to you at the window seat. He’s so in love, melting into a puddle before you. God, the way you’ve ruined him.  

“You have nice eyes. Dark and deep. I like the way they shine amber in the sun,” you whisper. You can’t help the growing smile on your face, the same smile when you’re alone and thinking of Joel’s handsome face. “Happy now, asshole?”

There’s a silent moment between you both after you speak, Joel’s looking at you in a way he never has before. The butterflies in your tummy flutter a little faster now, his eyes darting back and forth between your own and your lips. 

“Joel,” you sigh, “Quit looking at me like that.” Your words are more desperate than you intend them to be. You wanted to sound more stern, like him. 

He doesn’t say anything as he carefully places his hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping back and forth against your skin. Your eyes flutter shut. 

He takes the opportunity to pull you close, his lips just millimeters away from yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I wasn’t bein’ fair to ya. You said all those things to me when you weren’t in your right mind,” he trails off, bowing his head. “I’m no good at this.”

“Try me,” you whisper back, your eyes still closed. 

“I don’t know, trouble,”

You pull back, looking into his eyes. They’re big and full of adoration and insecurity, a brutal combination. “Thought it wasn’t real?”

Joel can only nod. The man who always has something to say, suddenly choking on his words. His hand is still on your cheek, holding you steady. 

You want to kiss him, so badly. You want to kiss him with every fiber in your being. But you fight it. He’s going to be the one to kiss you, it’s going to be how you always pictured it. This, you’re certain of. 

Joel’s eyes are frantic and unsure. 

It feels like minutes. 

Hours. 

Days. 

An eternity before he finally does it. And then finally, he kisses you, slowly and gently. It takes you by surprise, sweeps you off your feet. His lips are soft and slightly chapped, he tastes so distinctly Joel. You sigh and moan against his lips as his tongue mingles with your own, you curse yourself for the desperation you exhibit. As if he cares. 

You kiss like that for a while, softly. His gentle and loving kisses are a stark contrast to his gruff and domineering personality on patrol. He’s dissolving under your lips, feeling love he’s not felt in a very long time. Everything he can’t say with his voice he says with his kisses. 

You break the kiss, trailing your lips down his jaw, the scratchy hairs of his beard feel amazing on your skin. You kiss down his neck, something you’ve fantasized about thousands of times. 

“Wait,” he rasps out. 

You pull away, noticing the tent in his jeans. “Want me to stop?”

“Yes,” he breathes. Your eyebrows raise and your head tilts slightly. “No. Not like that. I just, I want to do this right. Treat you right.”

“Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” you speak into his neck. “Need you to fuck me.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle as you continue kissing his skin, trailing back up his thick neck and nibbling at his ear. He’s panting and moaning beneath you, you never expected he’d fall apart like this. “You know,” he starts, “You told me you wanted me to fuck you when you had your concussion.” Your face grows red and you stop kissing him for a second. “Did not,”

“Did too,”

You ignore him and pretend like he didn’t just tell you that. You kiss his skin, it’s hot and slightly salty. You feel his pulse under your lips and then, you pull away. 

His brows furrow as you smile. He’s so fucking cute like this, way cuter than any fifty-something man should be. “Your turn. Tell me what you think of me, then we can continue,” 

Joel’s confidence is back and fully fledged now, it’s a welcome return. “I think you’re nothin’ but trouble. Honestly and truly,” 

“Yeah?”

“S’right. Makin’ me fat with your damn cookies. Makin’ me crazy with all your pinches. And you’ve got me fallin’ in love now. You’re a goddamn troublemaker, and I’ve known it since the day I met you,” 

It’s everything you ever wanted to hear Joel say. He’s falling for you.

He continues, “And when we get back, I get a redo. Doin’ this the right way with you, baby. Gonna make you dinner and all that. Like a gentleman,”

“You better,” you mumble, kissing him again. Your hands find their way to his jeans, fumbling with his belt. His cock grows harder beneath you, he swats your hands away and helps you free it, his member springing up between you both. 

You kneel in front of him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. You lick a long stripe from the bottom all the way to the top of his dick, swirling your tongue around the blushed tip. “Troublemaker,” he sighs. “Don’t tease me now, sweetheart. Please, baby.” His eyes are screwed shut, face contorted in pleasure.

You love the way he calls you baby. And troublemaker. And sweetheart. You’ll be his baby and his sweetheart and his troublemaker for the rest of your life. 

You take him into your mouth, tongue paining his cock with swirls of saliva. His cock parts your lips, you love the smoothness of his skin. He tastes like skin and slightly salty, you hum against him as he bucks into your mouth. “Fuck, baby,”

You bob your head up and down, making a sloppy mess of saliva all over his lap. He pulls you off, suddenly. 

“My turn,” is all he grumbles when he picks you up and drags you to the couch in front of the fireplace. He makes short work of discarding your clothes, unbuttoning your jeans and your jacket and shirt. You’re naked in front of him, suddenly feeling vulnerable. You cover your breasts and bring your knees to your chest.

He notices and promptly begins removing his own clothing. “I know, I know,” he soothes you. “Evening out the playing field and all. Don’t hide from me now, I’m gonna make it right. You’re fucking beautiful, baby.” 

He’s naked now, kneeling in front of you and spreading your thighs apart. Your pussy is wet and glistening for him, you feel his hot breath on your center. He looks at you with wide eyes, his silent way of asking permission. You answer him clearly by carding your fingertips through his scalp, tugging on his head to where you need him most. You thrust your hips towards him, begging him with your body. 

“Eager, are we?” he mumbles. “Been dreamin’ of eatin this pussy, baby.” 

“Please,” you beg him. 

“Since you asked so nicely, trouble,” 

He doesn’t tease you, doesn’t spend any time kissing and biting your thighs. He dives right in, his tongue exploring your most intimate parts. It trails up your lips, through your folds. His tongue dips in your wet hole, tasting your slick. You jolt and gasp his name at the feeling. Your thighs clamp around his head, his scratchy beard is abrasive against your flesh. You welcome the feeling. 

He parts your thighs again then, a little rougher than the first time. His tongue slides through your wetness once more, then finds home at your clit, swollen and needy. He flicks upward, alternating between long and languid licks and short and quick kitten licks. One of his hands meet your center, his middle two fingers enter your pussy and punch upward until he finds the spot that makes you tick. He hasn’t touched a woman in a long time, but still remembers all the best ways to make her see stars. 

“Fuck, like that,” you gasp out. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Joel says nothing as he eats your pussy, sucking and licking at your center. It’s not long before you’re coming undone on his tongue, your slickness making a mess of his face. Your moans are breathy and quick, he savors each one. His eyes are wide and dark with lust.

Barely recovered from your high, you grasp and paw at his shoulders, encouraging him to come up and meet you for another kiss. You taste yourself on his lips.

“Need you now, Joelie,” you breathe, breaking the kiss. 

His nickname still sounds just as sweet as the first time you whispered it, all those nights ago. 

“‘Course, trouble. I’ve got you.” he says against your skin, his tongue darting out to play with your nipples. He’s dragging the tip of his cock through your folds. “How do you want me?”

“Just like this, please. Just fuck me,”

Your wish is his command. He slides the tip into you slowly at first, making sure it’s not too much. It’s not, of course

He pushes into you all the way, you sigh in pleasure at the fullness. He fits inside you perfectly, like he was made for you. His tip presses at that sweet spot inside you with each thrust, almost effortlessly. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he moans. 

“Yeah, Joelie. Just like that, baby. Don’t stop,” 

He fucks you like that, not too hard and not too soft. A deliciously and devastatingly pleasant pace, with such care and love. 

And then the lightbulb goes off in your head. His butt!! 

How you wish you remembered pinching his ass that night. 

“Joel?” your voice is clear, not moaning or breathy. 

He stills inside you, taking heaving breaths on top of you, like it’s taking everything he’s got not to keep going. He looks at you with concern, afraid that he might have hurt you. “Everything okay? What do you need?” 

“Can I squeeze your butt?” 

Joel says nothing, just looks at you with a puzzled expression. He furrows his brows and squints at you before rolling his eyes.

Hey, at least you’re asking permission this time. 

“Please?”

“Yeah, dummy. It’s all yours, now. Don’t wear it out,” he grumbles, but you hear the playfulness in his tone. 

You giggle, reaching down to grasp a handful of his ass. It’s round, plump and fleshy. You dig your nails in slightly, pinching him a little. He winces slightly, shaking his head at your mischievous expression. Your eyes are bright and silly with your bottom lip pinned under your teeth in a grin.

“Hey now, trouble” he scolds you with a smile. “Behave.”

He kisses you, continuing his motions. His thrusts are so fluid and confident, you’re getting closer now, so is he. 

“Fuck, baby,” he pants. “Can’t hold off much longer. What do you need?”

You pull one of his hands from above your head and place it at your center. “Circles, please,” 

He adjusts his grip on the arm of the couch and moves his fingers to your clit, slick with your wetness and his spit from before. “You got it,”

His thrusts become sloppier, he’s letting out strangled gasps and groans. You’re moaning, crying his name as your orgasm begins to bloom inside of you. It’s intense and hot, it feels like sparks through your blood. 

“Joel, Joel,” is all you can say. He fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own. “Fuck, Joelie.”

“I know, I know. I’m right there. Hang on for me baby, doin’ so good,” 

With a few more shuttering thrusts he’s spilling inside of you, painting your insides with his hot come. You feel every pulse and twitch of his cock, and he slumps on top of you. His skin is hot and sweaty, you don’t mind. You’ve been dreaming of his body pinning your own down for ages. 

You stay like that, just catching your breath together. He kisses your neck as your fingertips trail up and down his back. “I love you so much, Joel,” you whisper. “I really do.”

“Love you too, sweet girl,” he says softly. You love the way his voice sounds here, soft and gentle. All for you and no one else. 

He pulls out of you then, you whine at the loss. He lunges off the couch to reach for the tupperware container of snickerdoodles you baked for him.  

He pulls off the lid, grabbing a handful of cookies and shoving one in his mouth. Apparently Joel was still a typical man, snacking after sex. 

You giggle, grab a cookie of your own and kiss his cheek. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you close to watch the flames in the fireplace dance. 

“God, you’re evil,” he says, his voice muffled by the cookies in his mouth. “Force feedin’ me cookies and makin’ me fat.”

“Busted. You got me,” you say, smiling. “Gotta keep your ass nice and squeezable, hm? It was my devious plan all along. You figured it out, Sherlock.”

“Shut up. Fuckin’ troublemaker,”

tags:

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @harriedandharassed @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @@spideysimpossiblegirl

(if you don't see your @, i got rid of the ones tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Leave me a comment if you'd like to be on the taglist!)

[forest-hashira]

this absolutely would not leave me alone, in reference to this post. @fushigurro thank u for supporting/enabling me. divider by cafekitsune. this is omegaverse, mentions of heat cycles/sex but nothing explicit. minors dni.

it had been a few days since your synced heat with satoru had ended, and though it hadn't actually lasted longer than normal, it had felt like it, neither of you able to get the kind of relief you really needed. you'd given yourselves a day to sober up and recover, and then you'd had a much dreaded conversation.

you'd been everything to each other since you'd gotten together straight out of school. in all that time, you'd never needed anyone else for anything, even able to get each other through your heats with a little help from some toys. but this had been a brutal wake up call, a reminder that there were some things you'd never be able to do for each other, no matter how hard you tried.

it was unsettling to realize, though, and the following realization that you would have to find someone else to trust in your most vulnerable moments was downright scary. a new partner couldn't be just anyone, especially not if they were going to help both of you when you needed it. in fact, there was only one person either of you could imagine trusting with that.

and so you set up a coffee date.

"you feelin' okay, baby?" satoru's gentle voice pulled you from your mental spiral, and you offered him a weak smile.

"what makes you ask?" you set your drink down on the table, unable to stomach anything because of your anxiety.

"your leg has been bouncing nonstop since we sat down." he peered at you over the tops of his sunglasses, leaning in to rest his forehead against your temple. "it's all gonna be fine, you know that, right?"

"unless he hates us for asking this of him and decides he never wants to speak to us again." you weren't expecting the laugh your words drew from him, and you pinched his side harshly. "don't laugh at me! it's not impossible..."

you could practically feel him roll his eyes at you. "he's not gonna hate us," he soothes, the faintest hint of a purr rumbling beneath his words, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. "i doubt he'll say no, either. he's had a thing for you for years."

"he has not!" you turned and looked up at him, wide-eyed.

satoru cocked his head slightly, seeming genuinely surprised. "he has too! he told me once when we were drunk, before we all graduated and you and i got together. you didn't know?"

"of course i didn't know! he never said anything to me. i knew he was in love with you, though."

it was satoru's turn to look shocked. "you're lying to me."

"i am not! we all saw the way he looked at you. it was obvious."

your boyfriend seemed to pale at your words, as impossible as it was. "for how long?"

"from the very first day i met you guys. he still looks at you like that, y'know."

"who looks at satoru like what?"

suguru's voice startled both of you, and you looked up at him with burning faces. the alpha's brows pinched with concern as he sat across the table from the two of you. satoru pushed a black coffee towards him, but it went untouched as he spoke again.

"are you guys okay? you said you needed to ask me something important. is something wrong?"

you and satoru exchange a look, your omega offering you an encouraging nod.

"sort of," you sighed after a moment. "we, uh. well. our heats synced last week, and it sucked. like it was really bad."

suguru nodded, worry still painted across his features. "even with each other and..." he trailed off, glancing around as if remembering you were in a public place, and that it was probably not a great idea to talk openly about sex toys.

"yeah, even with that," you confirmed. "it was really, really miserable, and we really don't want to be caught off guard if our cycles ever sync like that again. which is why we asked you here."

now he really looked confused. "i don't think i understand."

"we need an alpha," satoru replied, his blunt nature a true blessing in that moment. "and you're the only one we trust to help us – to take care of us."

there was a beat of silence, then another. your heart began to pound, and you felt a bit sick all of a sudden. because this was it, wasn't it? your best friend outside of your partner was about to tell you both that you were disgusting simply for asking, and that he never wanted to hear from you ever again. he was—

"oh, uh... really?" there was no mistaking the flustered look on your friend's face, and that surprised you; he was usually so confident. "yeah, of course. i'm honored you trust me like that. anything you need, just let me know. i'll be there for you."

the relief that washed over you was so intense it nearly made you dizzy, and you were certain you would've collapsed if you weren't already sitting down. "you don't wanna take some time to think about it?"

he shook his head. "don't need to. if it means helping you guys, the answer's always going to be yes."

"whipped for us already, huh?" satoru teased, attempting to maintain his composure despite his face being the prettiest shade of pink.

the smile that tugged at suguru's lips was affectionate, his gaze warm as he took in the two of you across from him. "yeah," he agreed softly. "something like that."

[ghosts-bandwagon]

because I’m an IDIOT lmao here’s how the 141+König comfort reader with self-harm history/scars

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He sees the scars by accident on a hot day when you’ve got your sleeves rolled up and you’re sitting outside on your own, some are old and those he can understand but then he sees the ones that are pink and a little red and his heart sinks

He feels like he’s failed to be there for you, and he questions what he could’ve done that made you feel like you can’t talk to him

But because he doesn’t want to be an ass, he shakes the thoughts out of his head, it’s not about him, it’s about you and what he can do now to support you

To be honest, he doesn’t know how to bring it up to you without scaring you away, he doesn’t think he can be subtle with it but he at least tries to be gentle

“You feelin’ alright?” He asks, you’re both home and in each other’s arms in bed, you’re tracing a few scars on his abdomen when you look up at him in confusion,

“Yeah, of course, are you?” You tease, poking him in the side,

“I will be as soon as you’re honest with me, sweetheart.” he sighed, his hand rubbing soothing patterns into your arm, he didn’t let you protest before gently taking your wrist in his hand, “Please, just be honest.”

You’re stunned into silence, heart thundering in your chest, fight-or-flight response kicking in, too panicked to say a word, Simon took the lead,

“Please don’t do this anymore. I love you too much to sit back and let you do this to yourself.” You’ve never heard him plead like that before, it brought tears to your eyes, tears that you’ve long since buried,

You felt ashamed looking at your scars but seeing the way he tenderly brought your wrist to his lips and planted a kiss, it broke the dam and you found yourself curling into his side, silent sobs closing your throat

Simon wrapped himself around you, shielding you from the world and all its tragedies and all the pain it’s brought you,

“I’m right here, sweetheart, I’m here.”

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He sees your scars one day when your sleeves are rolled up and you’re doing the dishes, he passed you a dirty mug and you took it from him and that’s when he saw them, some old and some new and those were the ones that hurt his heart the most

He didn’t want to ruin the levity of the moment so he didn’t say anything, he also didn’t know how to talk to you about it

So he called the only person he could think of, Ghost. Who wasn’t that much helpful, he kind of just told him to either be straightforward about it or wait until you bring it up. Again not super helpful

So he goes about it his own way

“You know I love you, right?” You were both sitting on the couch, watching whatever show you two were binging at the moment, the question caught you a little off guard,

“Yeah, baby, of course. And I love you.” You leaned up and kissed the underside of his jaw,

“So you know you can talk to me about anything, aye?” He looked down at you before turning to face you, hands gently taking yours in his, there’s no way he saw them did he? The way his eyes flicked to your wrists before coming back up to look at you told you otherwise

He felt your hands twitch like you wanted to withdraw them, he tightened his grip enough to keep you there but not enough to hurt you,

“I mean anything. Bonnie, I’m here for you. To listen to you, to love you no matter what. Knowing that, will you talk to me?” You couldn’t help the knot that tightened in your throat or the tears that clouded your vision, he brought your hands up to his lips where he gently kissed your knuckles, lingering longer than normal

You leaned forward, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out, you nodded as he wrapped his arms around you, hands cradling your head against him, his voice soothing as he spoke reassurances into the crown of your head.

John Price:

He’s heard of people hurting themselves but he didn’t think you would be one of them

It was during a night you were intimate that he saw them, old lines on the tops of your thighs, and then he saw the newer ones and his heart never plummeted to his stomach so hard before, in a moment of bliss you completely forgotten about them, only remembering them when he stopped kissing your thighs,

“John? What’s wrong?” You tried to keep your voice from shaking, blood running cold, wanting nothing more than to run and hide

“How long has this been going on?” He asked, his voice heavy with sadness and concern, warm breath ghosting over the raised flesh,

“I’m sorry John.” You cried, sobs shaking your chest as you brought your hands to your face, hiding yourself from him,

“Sweetheart no, please don’t.” He shushed, climbing up and gathering you into his arms, he held you tightly against him, rocking you gently, “Don’t apologize to me, love, just talk to me.”

You could barely get any words out, shame and embarrassment taking hold of your throat, keeping the words from coming out,

“Or not yet, that’s alright.” He spoke, voice even and calm as his arms rubbed soothing patterns in your back, “Just, whenever you’re ready, I’m here. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’m here for you, sweetheart.”

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He’s so heartbroken, he wants to be your knight in shining armor, your rock, so when he sees the scars along your wrist, he’s devastated, he can’t imagine someone so beautiful and so loving hurting themselves

He sees your scars when you two were messing around, your sleeve rolled up a little and you winced when he made a playful grab at your wrist

Seeing you flinch like that shook him to his care, all the levity went out the window and his focus was solely on you now

“Sweetheart what happened?” He’s holding your wrists so tenderly, his eyes are so sad and you want to hide, you’re tugging yourself away from him but his hold is firm but gentle

“D-don’t worry about it, Ky, it’s nothing please drop it.”

“Babe, I can’t, I need you to talk to me.” He tugged you closer as he looked at the scars, “Please, please talk to me.” He begged, your heart was pounding at a mile a minute, tears started welling in your eyes, mouth agape trying to think of what to say to get out of this

Suddenly you were overtaken with the urge to collapse, to fall into his arms, he was here, he’d listen surely. His opinion of you won’t change, he loves you so much, you tried to reason

But nothing came out, you stood there frozen, tears rolling down your cheeks as he pulled you against him, embracing you tightly, burying his nose in your hair,

“Oh sweetheart, shhh I’m here, I’ve got you.” He couldn’t help the tremble in his voice, he gently swayed you two back and forth, kissing the side of your head, holding you against him tightly

König:

His heart sinks when he sees the scars on your hips, he’s hypnotized, thoughts running a mile a minute trying to piece it together. As soon as his thumbs run over the pale, pink, and somewhat fresh lines and he feels you tense, he knows this is very delicate territory

“Schatz how long has this been happening?” His voice is so tender, barely above a whisper, thumbs soothing the skin, mindful of the fresher scars

“Um- well- it’s uh-” you can’t get the words out, the sound dying in your throat as you choke on your answer. You chance a look down at him and his eyes are swimming with worry, crystal blues reflecting sadness back at you

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He moved his hands to the sides of your hips, warm and heavy, grounding and comforting, your hands absentmindedly held his, trying to pry yourself away from him but he had you pinned,

“It’s stupid, just, god, please don’t-” your eyes prickle with tears as you looked anywhere but him, your body went rigid when you felt his lips place gentle kisses on the older scars and next to the newer ones, you felt the tears slip and run down your cheeks, sobs beginning to bubble in your chest

“It’s not stupid, schatz, you’re hurting yourself. This is quite serious.” His voice was low and even, tone calming and soothing your frayed nerves, “Liebling, I’m here for you, you can trust me, you can talk to me.”

The sobs started slipping through your pursed lips, hand coming up to cover your mouth. König noticed and moved up to bring you into his arms, wrapping around you and holding you close, fingers running through your hair, humming lowly as your body shook with your sobs

“Shhh liebling, I’ll always be here. Please just talk to me, ok? Anytime you feel like doing that, talk to me. Promise?” He rubbed soothing circles into your back, you nodded and sniffled, burying yourself into his chest,

“I promise.”

[nexysworld]

Summary: Toji is returned to you, beat up after a job, he comforts you the best way he knows how. Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Face Riding/Sitting, Fem Receiving Oral, Light mentions of being injured, Hurt Comfort. Happy ending, drabble. WC: 1.1K

Read on AO3 || Ask Box

A/N: This is a quick one dedicated to one of the best people I know @dollfacefantasy. Thank you to @gigabyte-flare, @explorevenus, @kaitkatme and @d10nyx for beta reading.

Toji had always refused to tell you what he really did for a living, and while it didn’t take a genius to know it was less-than-legal, you never thought that it would end with him hurt so badly. He was a tank of a man, and you always assumed that meant he was impenetrable. 

If only.

Lying there covered from the neck down in bandages, he still managed to look handsome. Eyes closed, his pointed features relaxed as he snored lightly, chest rising with the even rhythm of his breathing. “Idiot.” You said, reaching out to touch his cheek. It was the first time you’d touched him in hours. When Shiu had dumped him back at your shared apartment, you were scared he’d shatter under your fingertips. “Good mornin’ to you too, Mamas.” His voice was hoarse and he hadn’t bothered to open his eyes. “How are you feeling?” “Not great. Not the worst I’ve ever been.” The thought of that made your shudder. “ You had me worried so bad, I should’ve killed you myself.” “It’s cute you think you could.” “Shut up.” You leaned down to press your lips to his. “Just, shut up.” “Kiss me again, and I might.” You didn’t waste time, capturing him in another needy kiss. You let your lips linger on his, eyes fluttering shut as you took in the feeling of him. The scar on the corner of his mouth, the slight chappyness of his compared to your soft ones. It was him. It was Toji.

Having pulled back just a few inches, you felt his calloused thumb run over your cheek. “You’re cryin’, Mamas. Did I really scare you that much?” You couldn’t speak, fighting off your tensing face muscles from scrunching up into that childlike ugly cry. “Yeah, you did.” “Let me distract ya then. Been too long without tastin’ my pretty baby.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his suggestion. “Seriously? You can barely sit up, and you’re already talking about getting laid, typical.” “My face is feelin’ cold, figured you could warm it up… wait actually now that I think about it my whole head’s been feelin’ a little cold.” The one arm he could move, reached up to pat the top of his head. You winced as you watched him make the discovery himself. It had been a shocker to you when you first saw it, but those inky blank locks were gone. “Where’s my fuckin’ hair?!” You flinched slightly at his tone. “Shiu said that the sorcerer who did this to you shaved it, like a battle tradition or something. I mean…..it kind of suits you, sexy in a real Vin Diesel kind of way.” You offered, your own words not as confident as you wanted them to be. Really though, he was still handsome to you, he was your man…just now he was your very shiny bald headed man. He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not finding the amusement or reassurance in your words. “Hop up.” “You really want me to?” “Yeah, need a distraction for myself now.” “If you insist.” You moved from where you were seated, discarding your clothing as quickly as you could. While normally you’d have taken the time to tease him, show off a bit, you both were clearly in a rush to be connected to each other. It was a bit awkward, but you managed to seat yourself over his head without disturbing any of his injuries, a death grip on the headboard kept you “That’s it, Mamas.” He murmured against your thigh. He brought his good hand up to squeeze your thigh to coax you down. Normally there’d be more space for you to see what you’re doing, but with his lack of mobility or real support, you were going in blind. The first time you lowered yourself, your clit bumped his nose, you gasped slightly from the quick flicker of warmth it pulled from you. “Sorry.” You mumbled, lifting yourself up again. This time, you missed again, wet folds coming into contact with the smoothness of his forehead. You almost went to try for a third time until you adjusted slightly and realized it felt good. The expanse of his forehead, including the small wrinkles above his brow bumped against your clit in a way you’d never felt before. 

You closed your eyes and tossed your head back as you tested the waters again, grinding down against his forehead, the lack of hair giving you more room to drag your sensitive bud over. It was similar to how you imagined the feeling of rutting against his abs or thigh, but without the friction of body hair. “Uh, what are ya doin’?” 

The sound of his voice snapped you back to the moment. “Oh god sorry.” Despite your words, your hips moved on their own, wet folds gliding across his head. “You’re nowhere near my mouth, ya know that, right?” “Yeah, yeah….yeah, I know…just god it feels amazing.” You could sense the confusion on his face from the way his brows came together beneath your aching need. “S’okay, right?” “Might blind me with your juices.” He said, though his voice gave clear indicators that he wasn’t sure what was going on still. “I-I can stop.” You rutted down in a circle motion this time, and it was almost enough to send you over your peak.

“Don’t do that. If ya feel good, then ya feel good, can’t take that away from my baby. Just promise to let me get a taste before you hop off.” “D-deal.” You muttered, tossing your head back as you humped his fleshy cueball.”Gonna cum…gonna cum…” You whined, head lolling back, knuckles white and legs shaking as you finally found your desperate release. 

As promised, before sliding off, you pushed yourself as best you could with your jello legs farther down, allowing him the chance to lap at your sensitive wetness. “Fuck, think ya nearly waterboarded me. Can’t even open my eyes.” 

“Sorry…” You said sheepishly, the post nut clarity sinking in and reminding you that shame existed. “Don’t be, meant it as a compliment. You taste just as good as I remember too.”

Sliding off the bed, you reached for your discarded shirt, using it to blot your wetness from his face so he could at least open his eyes. “Another perk, looks like it polished you right up.” You joked, swirling the cottony fabric around his head as if you were doing it to a new bowling ball. 

He rolled his eyes in response, but that huge smile he was known for was painted on his face despite himself. “You owe me a blowjob for that one.” 

[charmwitch]

wrote something about Samantha (knight) and Nirinel (witch)

N, "Oh hey, you're awake."

The world was dark, but there was only a small pause before the voice continued.

N, "I was worried you were seriously hurt. I can't fix you up if that were the case."

She knew that voice.

S, "Ugh…" N, "Hey, how you feelin'?"

The light was blinding, or so she thought. It took her a few moments to adjust her vision before she looked over at the direction of the voice.

S, "Uhm… kind of bad." N, "Yeah, if you're not expecting it, it's not great. But we made it out in one piece." S, "Nirinel?" N, "Yeah?" S, "Where… how? We were in the cathedral when…" N, "Oh yeah." N, "I'll tell you in a bit. You should take a breather first. It does come with some motion sickness sometimes." S, "…'It'?"

Samantha looked around, her surroundings quite unfamiliar to her. They were sitting under a rock, shaded from the red sun. Samantha had heard of this occurrence before, but had never witnessed it herself until today. Areas thick with memories, battlefields often come to mind in these situations, often caused such a phenomena. There was such an occurrence near the border of Belacuna and St. Helena, from previous land disputes before the countries had stabilized.

She turned to look at Nirinel, who seemed bored- if tired.

S, "We're not in danger?" N, "Nah. … Not that I know of."

Nirinel looked up, shielding her vision with her hand. Her wide-brim hat was on the ground next to her, it had been charred slightly in the monstrous encounter they had only just narrowly avoided. How did they avoid it, Samantha was still unsure. Her eyes scanned the flats. There were high walls off in the distance. She recognized exactly where they were- after all, it was she who brought them here down to the decimal.

N, "Water levels are lower than normal, though. See that? You can see the mariners."

She pointed off into the distance, Samantha rubbed her eyes to get a better look, but was confused. The flats had pockets of water, some with strangely shaped rocks peering out from the mud. Strangely shaped was perhaps an understatement, they were long and cylindrical, but rough and dull looking from far.

S, "Are those… tubes?" N, "Mariners. They're relics from the forty-year war. They're underwater boats." S, "… Why are they here?" N, "This area's usually underwater. Well, most of it. I used to come here to train my magic when my teacher wasn't around. He was never around, so that was quite often. He's so busy, so I would take it out on some of the rocks in this area. Got pretty spooked the first time I saw one of them, but they're harmless. In fact, they're pretty immobile at this state. Look, see?" N, "Anyway, it's the dry season. Sometimes they appear from the mud."

Nirinel looked over at Samantha, scanning her face for her mood. Her thoughts. She seemed curious, but still a little frightened.

N, "I guess I should tell you. You'd find out anyway. They're graves." S, "What? Wait, really?" N, "Yeah. They're not supposed to be. But if they're here, that means their crews are still in there." S, "Uhm…" N, "I'll probably inform The Society after we get back. I'm not skilled enough for that. I think Auntie Clem can take care of it pretty easily though." S, "… W-we're in a battlefield…" N, "Yeah." S, "…" N, "… Sorry. I, I didn't know where else to go. I panicked." S, "You brought us here? How? We're no where near St. Helena, are we?" N, "No, sorry." N, "Ah… this is hard to explain. I teleported us… here?" S, "…You can do that?!" N, "Hmn? I'm not supposed to. It's not magic. That's why you're also here. I was worried we might die, so I…"

S, "It's… forbidden, right? I've heard… mom talk about it." N, "Yeah, no one knows how it actually works. But if you're able to calculate a location fast enough and can access a terminal, you can do an instant teleportation. It's a bit more complicated with two people, but I was able to successfully find a point under the adrenaline. Accessing a terminal takes a lot of magic, I don't think that's the intended form, but if I can hack it I can handle it somewhat."

S, "That's-" N, "Mn?" S, "That's amazing! You did all that by yourself? It's because you're a math wiz, right?" N, "Aah, I wouldn't- I wouldn't call myself that." N, "Hehe." N, "You need to give coordinates pretty quickly and accurately. If you mess up, you can just get yourself killed or who knows what happens. No one knows. I figured it'd be fine, we were probably going to die anyway."

She pauses and looks away.

N, "Sorry I didn't ask you first." Samantha takes her hand. S, "You're incredible! Thank you for keeping us alive." N, "Haah. you can't just say that so casually." S, "I-I mean it.. I'm… thank you…" N, "…" N, "Come on, we should head back. It'll take a few hours though." She looks up. N, "-by broom. I mean. If I teleport again, I could screw it up. It's always a risk. … Sorry."

Samantha nodded, smoothing out her dress as she stands up, her balance a little off.

S, "I mean it. You're really amazing! Thank you for taking care of me, Nirinel."

Nirinel could only look at her for a moment before smiling.

N, "Stop that. You can thank me when we get back to town." S, "Oh, um." N, "What is it?" S, "Should, should we offer a prayer…" N, "Ah, for the soldiers?" S, "Y-Yeah… I… don't feel right knowing… they're just there…" N, "Yeah alright. We shouldn't stay long, they'll keep you here. They're still working, after all." S, "Still working?" N, "It's a military notion- Oh, right. You're a foot soldier. I guess you wouldn't know. Those lost at sea are considered still on patrol. Still working. They'll always be working until they're found. I heard about it on the radio. I couldn't sleep for days afterwards. Ghosts aren't a big deal for us, but it's still spooky, right? Imagine that. Being lost at sea for hundreds of years? No thanks. I'd haunt everyone."

Samantha could only nod before offering a small prayer and following behind Nirinel.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

"Did you lie to me?" Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F! Reader

Summary: The Daggers are about to embark on the most dangerous mission of their career. The odds are survival are slim. Too bad that your boyfriend Rooster has failed to mention that.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F! Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, lying, he's so pretty but that doesn't mean smart.

Cross Posted on AO3

“How you feelin’ kid?” Maverick sits at one of the stools, his hands tightening on the glass of bourbon before him, the glass sweating from how long he’s sat there. 

You glance across the room at Rooster, laughing with the rest of the squad, “I don’t really want him to go, but it’s his duty.” 

“You’re taking it a lot better than Penny,” he shakes his head, swallowing the last mouthful of liquor. Your brow furrows and you lean closer to hear him above the crowd, “I’m gonna do my best to bring him back home, but this mission,” he sighs, “this one I’m not so sure any of us are coming back from.” 

The glass in your hand shatters and his eyes widen as he stands, “I’m sorry kid, I wasn’t thinking…” Maverick starts apologizing but you put a hand up, and it visibly trembles. 

“It’s that serious?” You ignore the way he swears, obviously realizing that you have no idea. “Rooster didn’t tell me any details obviously,” you mumbled to yourself running over every word he’d said, “but he told me it was safe, a surefire mission, nothing to worry about.” 

You glance up at Bradley, his eyes meeting yours across the bar and the smile drops from his face. He hands the pool cue over to Hangman and quickly crosses to you, “You okay, baby?” he reaches a hand out for your shoulder when you take a step back, out of his reach. 

“Did you lie to me?” you whisper, the tears getting choked in your throat. From behind him the over aviators close in noticing the tension vibrating from your body. 

“What?” Bradley furrows, “I can’t hear you, baby.” 

“I said,” you raise your voice, other patrons turning closer, “did you lie to me?” His expression turns somber and you let out a sob, covering your mouth, “oh, my god,” you whisper, “you did.” 

“Robbie,” Bradley calls out, “can you cover?” his eyes never leave yours, “she needs to go home.” 

“Fuck that,” you shake your head, the tears falling down your cheeks, “you were just going to let me work till close while you drank a beer and played pool with your friends, knowing that you could be going off to die tomorrow?! You didn’t even have the decency to warn me.” 

“I didn’t want it to change anything,” he shouts back, his voice cold, “yeah,” he nods, “there is a strong probability if I’m chosen I don’t make it back alive. Is that what you wanted to hear?!” 

“Rooster,” Phoenix puts a hand on his arm, grimacing over at you, “calm down, man.” 

He pulls his arm out of her grip, turning back to you. “I saw what losing my dad, did to my mom. I saw how she would worry herself sick waiting for him to come back. I didn’t want that for you. I just wanted to leave you with a happy normal night, is that too much to ask?! But no, you have to go turn it into a goddamn soap opera. What?” he throws his arms up, “did you want to lay in each other’s arms and cry? Is that what you want?!” 

You wrap your arms around yourself, knuckles turning white with how hard you’re clenching, and the tears are silently spilling down your cheeks. He’s breathing hard, the anger seeping out as he takes in your trembling form, “fuck,” he whispers, pressing his palm to his eyes, “Baby, I-I didn’t mean it.” 

“Please just go,” you whisper, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie you stole from his closet before work. He lowers his hands, his eyes watching you but you refuse to meet them, focusing on a point on the bar. “I just want to get back to work, we’ll have a normal night, just like you wanted.” 

“Baby,” he reaches out but the others hold him back. 

“She needs some space,” Bob puts a hand on his chest, “just give her some time.” 

“Yeah,” Phoenix nods, “that was a lot Rooster.” 

You can’t listen to them anymore so you switch sides with Robbie, his hand softly pressed to your shoulder. “You can head out,” he nods toward the door, “I can handle the rest of the night by myself.” 

“I’m scheduled to close,” you remind him, “and besides, I don’t have anywhere I need to be right now.” He lets go with a nod and takes his place before the others, Rooster arguing with them. 

“If you’re not ordering a drink, then get the hell out of the bar before I ring the bell on your sorry ass,” Robbie puts his beefy arms over his chest. 

You tune the rest out, making drinks and focusing on the routine and pattern. Rooster is eventually pulled away from the bar and back to the pool tables but he stays in a hightop in the corner watching your every move. His eyes burn as they follow you but you don’t have the heart to even glance up at him. 

Robbie clocks out, giving you a wave and glaring over at Rooster before he locks the door behind him. Everyone else is long gone, leaving just the two of you alone at the bar.

“Please just go,” you finally turn towards him when you hear the chair being moved out at the bartop. His eyes are bloodshot and he swallows hard, as you turn your back to him. 

“Are you coming home?” he asks, his voice trembling. 

“No,” you shake your head, “I’m going to stay at Penny’s. I sent her a text a few hours ago and she said it was no problem.” 

“Baby,” he takes a deep breath, “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

“Sorry for what?” you walk over to him, “Sorry for yelling at me in front of an entire bar for giving a shit? Or sorry for lying to me about how you're going on a suicide mission?” 

He goes to answer when you cut him off, a hand to your chest, “Oh, I’m sorry,” you gasp, “is this too much of a soap opera for you?” 

“I deserve that,” he nods, “and all the rest of it. Baby,” he holds out a hand, “I’m so fucking sorry for all of it. I should never have lied to you, I was just trying to spare you.” 

“Spare me?” 

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he stands, coming over to the opening of the bar bending down to get in and walk to your side. “I was so fucking scared that if I told you the truth, you would spend the next few days worried sick. And when I didn’t come back-” 

“If,” you correct him taking a step closer, “if you didn’t come back.” 

“If,” he puts his hands gently on your waist, “I didn’t want your last memory of me to be sick with worry. I was trying to keep everything normal to spare you the pain.” 

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, Bradley Bradshaw. I love you, I should be given the choice of whether I get to worry or not. And for the record, we’ve only been together a short time and I already know I’ll ALWAYS worry about you when you’re gone.” 

He’s gone slack-jawed, and you realize what you’ve said. “You love me?” he whispers and the tears stream down his cheek, he clears his throat before asking again. “Do you love me?” 

“I do,” you whisper, “I love you so fucking much, Rooster.” He grabs the back of your head and pulls you close, your back digging into the bar as he devours your mouth. 

You come up for air a few minutes later and he holds your face keeping your eyes on him. “I love you,” he mumbles between kisses, “I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you. But I didn’t want to scare you off.” 

“Well you need to get used to something, Bradley Bradshaw, if we’re going to be together forever.” He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“And what’s that?” he leans back and forth taking you with him as he rocks you both to the jukebox still playing in the corner. 

“You don’t spare my feelings, or try to protect me. I can make up my own mind.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, “noted.” 

“Now Bradshaw?” you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Yes, ma’am?” he grins, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“Take me to bed, or lose me forever.” 

[janitorhutcherson]

I love your writing, please please give the world Mike comforting his partner on their period 🙏🏻 that man would be so compassionate but also confused and asking tons of questions so he can explain it to Abby when she’s older

okay so, i'm about to start my period. i can sense it, i'm cramping, i'm going insane, so here is some mike fluff!! i need this, y'all need this, we all need this rn. this isn't great, last min as always :p i promise one day i'll give yall something more quality lol. also am sorry if this isn't exactly what u were lookin' for!! i hope u enjoy :P

word count: 1,298

warnings: mentions of blood (period), swearing

summary: mike takes care of you while you're on your period. completely unaware to how it all works, he does the best he can, trying to educate himself in the process.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in pain. That was one thing you knew for sure. For the past two days, your insides had felt like Satan himself was ripping them out, tearing each part of your uterus into tiny, itty bitty pieces, perhaps even doing a little happy dance on them. As your body was stretched out on the couch, your hand gripping your abdomen, you felt like your life was flashing before your eyes. You'd called off work, waking up feeling worse than you had during that time of the month in a while. You couldn't picture yourself doing much of anything but laying on the couch in the living room of your boyfriend, Mike, and his little sister, Abby, who was much like your own. You'd slept over the night before, opting to stay there as you felt much more comfortable.

Once a month, you became queen bitch, completely insufferable to be around. You were grumpy, sick, nauseous, and aching. You couldn't help it. Your cramps were always amplified more than the average person. Your pain tolerance seemed to get weaker when the time came. With that being said, everyone around you had to suffer the consequences. You and Mike had only been together a few months. Every month, he'd get a little bit better about handling it. The first month, he was slightly standoffish, not sure if his assistance would make things worse or if it would help you. He'd offer you pain medicine, get you water when you needed it, and fetch the heating pad when you cried out in pain. He was always sympathetic, helpless in his inability to make your pain disappear. Mike loved you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to ache the way that you did.

In the following two months, he'd gotten more adventurous, even offering to go out and buy your preferred pads and tampons. Even though he brought back the wrong thing the first time (he brought back the preteen pads, which would not be helpful to your heavy flow), he was sure to correct it the next. With his learning curve coming to an end, Mike was much better with his assistance. Right as your eyes began to flutter closed, the front door to Mike's door flung open, an exhausted Mike walking through, his hair messy and his skin somewhat pale due to his lack of sleep. Although he was working normal human hours now after getting a regular job, the adjustment period was difficult. He somehow felt even more sleep-deprived than before. You slowly sat up, a confused look on your face as you glanced over at the time. It was only noon, which didn't make sense. Mike typically wouldn't be home until around 5:30pm.

"Mike?" you questioned, your voice laced with pain as your head cocked to the side.

"Yeah, baby?" he questioned back, placing three plastic bags from the store onto the coffee table in front of you. He sat beside you on the couch, moving your legs to lay across his lap. He tenderly reached his hand across you, his warm palm slipping under your shirt to touch your aching stomach. He rubbed slow and gentle circles on the tender area, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as it somewhat relieved the pain. "You feelin' any better?" he spoke softly, his tone dripping with sympathy and worry.

"Why are you home? What's in the bags?" You were confused. You didn't mean to sound like a bitch, but the pain was making you somewhat delirious, and the thought of him simply coming home early just didn't occur to you. He chuckled, shaking his head as he playfully rolled his eyes.

"Can you not just let me take care of you for once?" he grumbled, grabbing the plastic bags from the table and placing them gently into your laps. In the first bag, he pulled out a brand new pain reliever bottle and miniature heating pads. They were wireless and single-use. You could stick them into your pants and wear them around wherever you needed. He also pulled out a new bubble bath, lavender scented, that claimed to have infused pain-relieving essential oils. The next bag contained your favorite kind of chocolate, some other kinds of candy, and a little stuffed bear. The bear wasn't any bear, but one that could be heated up and again used as a heating pad. Inside of the same bag, he also pulled out a brand new box of the right kind of tampons and a bouquet of flowers. The last bag contained burgers and fries from your favorite fast-food place, something yummy to get into your aching system.

You watched in awe as he pulled out each item, a sheepish but proud grin spread across his face as he did so. He was proud of himself, mostly because he felt useful, he felt like for once he was the one taking care of you. Mike typically felt like a burden, like he wasn't worth caring for, regardless of how much you attempted to convince him otherwise. Times like these were important to him, times when he could make you feel safe, secure, loved.

"I, uh, heard you this morning. I realized you were in a lot of pain, wanted to do something nice. I took the day off of work, thought I'd surprise you with some stuff to make you feel good. Got us some lunch too, thought maybe we could go lay down in the bed and watch movies, eat some junk together? I'll take real good care of you," he said, scratching at the back of his neck with a hopeful grin. You looked back at him with your own wide grin, the churning cramps in your stomach not subsiding but instead simply not your main focus at the moment. You nodded your head, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

You helped him carry the brand-new goods and the food to the bedroom. You plopped down onto the bed as Mike leaned over you, gently kissing your head. He tucked you into the blankets, ensuring you were nice and warm. He closed the curtains tightly, all too aware of the vision-blurring headaches you got on your period. He put up one finger to signal he'd be right back. Once he returned, he had a glass of water and heated up your brand-new heating pad bear. He placed your wired heating pad onto the small of your back, pressing two kisses to your forehead again. He then insisted you lift your head, helping you to swallow the pills. After, Mike cuddled up next to you in bed.

The two of you watched random movies and TV shows for the rest of the day, his hand seldom leaving your stomach. He constantly had you wrapped up near him. He kept you medicated and fed, refusing to leave your side. Mike was content. Even though you were a bitch during this time, you were appreciative. He loved you and it was clear, he'd do anything to take care of you.

While deep into the show you were watching, you felt a pair of eyes staring into the side of your head. You lifted your head, looking over to Mike with a cocked eyebrow. "Yes..?" you questioned, staring at his somewhat nervous expression.

"Um, do you think, you could maybe explain periods to me? Y'know, all of it, the bloody stuff, the moody stuff.. I just.. wanna be prepared for Abby," he asked sheepishly. A chuckle left your lips as you shook your head.

"Of course, Mikey. I can explain it to you," you hummed, pressing a kiss to his lips before you went into detail, explaining female anatomy to your 25-year-old boyfriend.

[thebearer]

please something about carmen taking care of you when you're sick. cooking for you?

"Hey, hey, hey," Carmen turned, spoon pointed at you. "What're you doin', huh? 'Sposed to be in bed."

"I can not stay in that bed anymore, Carmen." You pouted, the soft blanket still wrapped around you from said bed, your voice still hoarse from coughing. "My back is killing me."

Carmen frowned at you, lips pulling. "Baby," It was firmer than normal, void of it's usual purr that had your heart fluttering. Stricter, a little exasperated. "You need to be in bed. You're never gonna get better."

"I will be fine." You huffed, rolling your eyes. Carmen was surprisingly nurturing, a little smothering at times especially when you were sick.

Carmen huffed, short breath out of his nose to express his displeasure. "Fine, but sit, ok? Don't need to be up and movin' around so much. Wasting all your energy." He nodded towards the chair behind the hightop counter.

You huffed this time, matching his annoyance but relenting anyways. You were tired, truthfully, still a little drowsy from the medicine and just fatigued overall. Whatever you'd caught had wiped your energy entirely.

"What're you making?" You asked, hands propped under your chin, watching Carmen stir the pot on the stove.

"Soup." Carmen chirped, placing the lid back on.

Your brows raised exaggeratedly. "Soup? What kind of soup?"

"Chicken noodle." Carmen's lip curled at your little gasp of surprise. "What?"

"Can't believe the Carmen Berzatto is making chicken noodle soup all for me?" You giggled dramatically.

"Stop." Carmen rolled his eyes lightly at you. "It's the best thing for when you're sick, you know it."

"That's a little below your skill set, isn't it?" You smiled, legs swinging lightly under you.

Carmen scoffed, pulling a glass out of the cabinet. "Not for you, it isn't. Plus, added a little extra red pepper instead because something about it helping with clearing shit up." He pushed the glass in front of you, filling it with water from the pitcher, nodding at you to drink it.

You smirked, lips brushing the glass. "I would've been fine with Campbells." You hummed before taking a sip.

Carmen shrugged easily. "Yeah, well, I don't mind." He said cooly, but your heart skipped at the nonchalant sweetness of his words. "Just want you to get to feelin' better."

You blushed, twisting the glass in your hands. If you weren't sick, you would have kissed him right there. Instead, you put your head on your hand. "I'm feelin' better already." You muttered. "Fever broke this morning. I'm on the come ups, baby."

Carmen grinned. "Good. You're gonna keep resting though, until you feel better. Got me?" He lifted a brow at you.

You nodded, lip jutting with an exaggerated sigh. Carmen rolled his eyes at you, opening the door to the fridge. "Alright, let's get serious," He said, eyeing you carefully. "What kinda cheese you want for your sandwhich?"

[theonemeathead]

Sniper x Reader, "Say My Name"

[NSFW!!] im soooo normal about sniper from tf2. ive actually had this fic sitting around for a while, just keep forgetting to post it!

tws for the use of the word 'sheila', implied fem reader. enjoy!

You had no idea how it had gotten to this point. One moment you were laughing, cutting up with everyone over a game of cards, next thing, you were in a full-blown heated argument with your lover. Hardly, did you and Sniper ever truly argue, and when you did, it was normally you fussing at him, and him, sitting there, calm and level-headed, listening. There were a few outlier moments (like all long-term relationships), where things got bad, but never like this.

Now, you were standing in his camper, both of you spatting at each other as it escalated from frustration to a full-on screaming match. And it didn't seem to get any better. Sniper had said something during the game and it set you off for the night; Something about how 'he can see the looks you give the others'. Now, you understood Sniper was possessive, but the way he snapped at you earlier had stuck with you. And the worst part? He didn't even say sorry. You knew it was irrational to be upset, but things had been piling up for days, and this was the breaking point; The final drop of water into a cracking dam of emotions.

"Don't give me that, sheila, I'm not in the mood," He turned his back to you, waving you off with his hand as he marched towards the fridge. It always bothered you when he seemed disinterested in your arguments.

"Oh, you're not in the mood? What about me? What about how I feel?!" You huffed, crossing your arms. You waited for him to respond, slightly trembling with anger as he seemed to dismiss you, inspecting the label of a beer he found instead. "You accuse me of being disloyal and then ignore me? That's unfair, and you know it—"

"It's not an accusation if I'm tellin' the truth, yeah? Crikey, I see the way the doc treats ya on the battlefield, sheila, I'm not bloody blind!" He slammed the glass bottle on the counter, whipping around to face you with such ferocity that, for the first time ever, you had actually feared him. You stood your ground, shrinking slightly as he stomped towards you, his voice getting louder and angrier as he did. "And I ignored it, brushed it off as simple banter, yeah? But when he started touchin' ya, feelin' up on what's mine?"

"He doesn't 'feel up on me', Sniper. He's doing a rushed medical examination, I would know if it was sexually charged." You bit back, a slight snarl forming on your lips. Sniper froze. You never called him by his title, only when you were really upset. You knew it got to him, would agitate him more.

"That's not my name, roo."

Woah. You immediately felt your face flush red. The way his tone darkened, the way he stood as still as a tree over you, it made your thighs squeeze together. You'd be lying if you denied it didn't get you hot under the collar, the predatory gaze in his eyes as he spoke. Even with a raised voice, there was a certain underlying gravel in his tone that followed. No sane person should be turned on by their boyfriend's anger, but you could tell Sniper was about 30 seconds away from pushing you up against the nearest surface and showing you who you belong to.

"You're Sniper when you're mean."

You swallowed thickly, noticing how he kept pursuing you. You backed up, stopping abruptly when you hit the farthest wall in his camper van. He slammed his hands on either side of your face, leaning down as he growled slightly in your ear. You pushed yourself, flush, against the wall. You pushed your legs together, your knees threatening to buckle just from the sheer ecstasy that was Sniper's voice whispering, dirty talking you, right in your ear.

"You wanna see mean, love? I'll show you mean."

You felt goosebumps pin up all over your body. Before you could retort, Sniper had latched himself onto your neck. He would start with a kiss, the sweetness of his lips a cruel cover-up for when he sunk his sharp canines into the same spot. He left multiple dark, visible marks, most starting at your jaw, trailing down into your nape and ending near your collarbone. He wanted to claim you, show everyone you were his.

You wanted to fight back; To be a general nuisance and continue arguing... but it was obvious it would be futile. He was going to put you in your place, regardless. He was Sniper, like you said, after all.

He didnt even bother to strip you completely. He hastily unbuttoned your pants, slipping them down with your panties in one swift motion. The clothing articles sat at your knees, effectively hindering your ability to run away, if you so desired. You were flipped over so your back was turned to him instead, now. Instinctively, you put your hands against the wall to brace yourself. With one hand on his cock, the other on your shoulder, he began, teasingly, rubbing the head of his length against your core. You whined, grinding back to get any sort of relief. You felt the rumbling of his low laugh, as if he was getting off on how desperate you were. Here you were, acting all high and mighty, now reduced to a brainless toy for him to play with.

"What's the matter, roo? Need somethin'?"

"Mundy, please—" He took a fistful of your hair, yanking on it to force you to arch. Your head leaned back, giving you an upside-down view of the sinister smirk on his face.

"Oh, I'm Mundy again? I don't think so, love. You asked for this." He punctuated his sentence with a deep thrust, bottoming out fully inside you in one movement. It caught you off guard, eliciting an involuntary moan. You felt your eyes water, your walls squeezing and constricting around Sniper's lengthy cock.

He started off agonizingly slow, pulling almost all the way out, just to push himself back in to the hilt. You could feel his tip brushing against your cervix, making you wet with even more need than before. Normally, he was an animal. When he was horny, he didn't hesitate to hold back on ravaging your body. But, this was Sniper, the trained assassin that could wait hours to get the perfect shot. He was a hunter, a man who didn't 'muck about' when it came to ensnaring his prey. This wasn't your typical, sweet boyfriend who went on camping trips and sang you poor covers of songs by The Who.

His pace quickened with desperation. Vulgar sounds of skin hitting skin echoed through the quietness of his vehicle, followed by a harmony of whimpers and mewls from you as he fucked into your body ruthlessly. He let go of your hair, instead, he dug his nails into the meat of your hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in his wake. His grip was bruising, along with his thrusts now. You still held yourself up against the wall, albeit shakily.

"Mick, please! I'm so close—" He had slowed his pace, coming to a complete stop. Confused, all you could do was whine at the lack of stimulation. And that's when it hit you.

He wanted you to beg. He wanted you to degrade yourself, to fully give in like a wounded rabbit caught in the hinges of a beartrap.

"C'mon, sheila, you're a clever one. You know what I want." The praise from his gravelly voice, alone, was enough to get you to crumble.

"I— Please, Mick, I'm sorry for calling you 'Sniper', it won't happen again, just please—"

"You're just making this harder for yourself, love."

"Fine—Ok! Please, Mundy, I need it, I need it so bad. I want you to fuck me, and only you!" Your voice quivered with desperation. This seemed to appease him as he went back to where he left off. Every drag of his dick against your wet core felt heavenly. It wasn't long until that build-up happened again, that tight coil forming as his tip abused your g-spot.

"You're mine, roo. Got it?" He panted, groaning softly as he felt you tighten around him, as you got closer to your climax. "Say it, sheila."

"I'm yours! I'm yours, Mick!" As if on cue, you felt your orgasm crash over you. You squeezed your eyes shut, your body tensing around his cock deliciously harder. This seemed to push him over the edge, his hips snapping against your ass as he went as deep as he could, filling you to the brim with his cum. He pulled out, catching his breath as he watched his seed spill out of you, as it began to drip from in-between your legs. He grinned, proud of his work. With a light slap on your ass, you slumped against the wall, completely exhausted and limp.

Sniper sat on the ground beside you, pulling your sore body towards him. You rested your head on his shoulder, comforted by the faint scent of umber and the soft thumping of his heart. Tiredly, you looked up at him.

"So, I'm going to assume you don't think I'm gonna leave you for one of our teammates anymore?" You teased slightly, although there was a hint of sincerity in your question. You really didn't want anyone else, but him, and you'd be damned if he didn't know it.

"I'm sorry about that, roo. Just really love ya, 's all." He avoided your gaze, sheepishly looking at the ground instead.

"I love you too, Mundy. I promise, you're the only one I've got eyes for. I'm not going anywhere."

"You better not, or Sniper's gonna have to hunt'cha down and give you a real bloody drubbin'." You planted a chaste kiss on his lips, effectively shutting him up. Yawning, you laid your head back down, snuggling into his side as you both laid against the wall.

Being a mercenary was, in fact, a good job.