#its all about SELF INDULGENCE BABY!
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Hello!! I love your work and was wondering how you get different ideas for fics? I struggle coming up with ideas that are kinda outside the box lol, lots of love <333
OMGGG Thank U!! I get it. < girl who's been stuck on ideas. lol...(said in agony). i will try to make a list for both of us (T＿T)b
being so srs 1) i don't think any of my work is vry unique/creative and 2) i'm an infp-t who injects romance into everything and thinks about it everywhere. i have issues. so a popular prompt or one of my Many thoughts is usually all i need 🫥😔 But!!!
reels/tiktoks, esp if it's a trend (would u love me if i was a worm / act a fool / etc). i basically trained my fyp before i uninstalled tiktok to give me new scenarios LMAO
prompt lists/generators can be vry helpful to get my brain going
^ have a list of fave charas / charas that have different personalities !! bokuto, iwaizumi, suna, etc. r faves but they're so different that Boom. 1 prompt = 5 scenes to pick from :]
+ a list your favourite things / tropes/ aus. doesn't matter how popular or niche! key things for Me: special moments/firsts + domesticity + charas being whipped. LOL
think of different media! your fave shows/movies, dating sims, etc. do u have a favourite moment.. what got U flustered 🤨
i get smau ideas from pinterest sometimes . i find funny memes + tweets and save them to a board LOL
Read other works!! also i follow the oc questions tag bc the q's can hit super specific scenarios that make u go Woah
tbh ideas just come from,,, life. silly things. Write down these moments to use later! "photo of you" was bc i saw a girl printing pcs of herself for her friends and said hey... :)
^ "boyfriends in public" was bc i kept watching couples try to pay for each other at checkout. songs they'd post you to...i kept seeing ppl posting their s/o and said what about Me.
multi-chara post: take a prompt and think of it in different locations! he gives you his jacket? why? because you're outside and it's cold, because you're at his game/set/etc. and he thinks it'd be cute that everyone knows you're dating, because you want to sleep and you can use it as a blanket, etc etc.
^ just start naming random places in ur head and see if anything happens—get more specific as u go! house. kitchen. the walk-in pantry. boom: big party scene and person a walks into the pantry at the sight of their favourite snack, caught by person b who's the host. oh that's a good one actually. woah. LOL
and like,, it's so so cool to just.. do an idea that's been done before. remember that if u as a reader will eat up the same prompt/trope over and over again, that u as a writer can feel happy to write it too!! So Many of my own posts have been done before but i think they're still good in their own way 🤷🏻♀️ U writing it rather than someone else means that it'll automatically be special to U.
some prompts / thoughts 4 u to use + get ur brain going!!! ^___^
holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, firsts
dance! in the kitchen? at a wedding? is it their first one? are they really bad at it?
person a thinks person b is a worker and asks for help and they do! they do Not work at this store though.
fogged up glasses
person a saving b from an awful looking date / a no show
a gets b smth from build a bear with a special recording
both going to the movies alone but ending up next to each other. it's a comically bad movie
a is asked what their 'type' is and describe b who's listening
both cosplaying as a chara part of a duo/relationship, then spotting the other at a con :0
(hurt/)comfort: anxious reader, overworked reader, someone was rude, person a has a nightmare, person a accidentally injures themself and doesn't tell b
package left at the wrong door
"god the men you put on this earth to hunt and protect are ___"
person a, who struggles to initiate physical affection, suddenly initiates physical affection (why? where? are they both flustered?)
person a tries slipping a valentine into b's things as a secret, but is caught in the act
strangers on an airplane watching the same movie next to each other (bonus: one is re-watching, the other is watching for the first time. the re-watcher pretends they don't know what's going to happen because it's endearing to watch the other)
a accidentally reacts to b's ig story or posts the comment they very much did not mean to comment
#really and truly i do the most used prompts ever#but i love them#its all about SELF INDULGENCE BABY!#+ i can usually think of prompts easily#even if i dont use them#so if u ever need one. hit me up#🧾nia.answers#<3 anon
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CHARLES & PECCO
2019 Italian GP // 2021 Emilia Romagna GP // x // x // Italian GP winning helmets: Monza 2019, Mugello 2022 // Charles Leclerc's qualifying crash means he is unable to start the 2021 Monaco GP after taking pole // Pecco Bagnaia crashes out of the lead in the 2021 Emilia Romagna GP, ending his championship hopes // "Child in Red" by Rainer Maria Rilke // Charles and Arthur Leclerc, 2021 Le Castellet Formula 3 Race II // Pecco and Carola Bagnaia, 2021 Aragon GP // Charles Leclerc and Mattia Binotto, 2022 Bahrain GP // Pecco Bagnaia and Gigi Dall'Igna, 2022 Spanish GP // little red wristbands // "Late Fragment" by Raymond Carver // Charles Leclerc and Ferrari celebrate his first F1 win, 2019 Belgian GP // Pecco Bagnaia is embraced by the Ducati team after his first MotoGP win, 2021 Aragon GP
#oh god i have never been mentally ill on main quite like this before.#charles leclerc#pecco bagnaia#thats right im tagging this. its hard work being this insane#LOVE IS STORED IN THE DEEPLY MEDIOCRE WEB WEAVING.#i hope the photos are from where i think they're from LOL. if not oh well im a loser#i KNOW its loose at best and i could have done SO much better w this but. babys first web weave?#its about the red italian team whose last major success was in 2007 and now all the hopes and dreams of these institutions rest on you#and you're young still (they're both 97 babies!!!) but somehow its always felt a little like time is running out#mostly its about the babywabyism.#pecco#motogp#f1#they are my sweet little baby blorbos :(#save#most self-indulgent shit i've ever done in all my too many years on this website!!!!#also first remotely creative impulse i've felt in a VERY long time LMAO#ducati#ferrari
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✎ sick days
- gojo satoru x reader
who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!
genre:
fluff, fluff, fluffff. basically, your baby is adorable, gojo is your husband and not only is he lovesick with you, he humors your baby so much it’s making me— sighs
note:
based on this post! hi hi chu is back from vacation and here’s another dad!gojo fluff indulgence and we stan domestic men okay🤭
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
It's plain sight that Gojo Satoru is a highly attractive individual, and now that he has a son, it's fair to say that he’s the hottest dilf on the block.
With one hand twirling a famous brand of flu medicine box and the other propping his baby son at his hip, he garnered curious eyes, even in drugstore near his home.
“Hmm, why is it so cheap? Suspicious…”
Satoru let out a light hum, studying the orange and pink boxes, as well as glancing at the other purple box with bold labels claiming its effectiveness in halting cold symptoms, and then looked at his son.
His baby's big, crystal blue eyes blinked in wonder at the vibrant colors, and he reached out with grubby hands towards them. “Bwah!”
Suddenly, he got an idea.
“Hey, kiddo. Which do you think is better for mama?” he asked the baby, gesturing at the all three medicine on the rack with his jaw. “You choose.”
As if on cue, the little ball of fluff that was his son immediately reached out for the purple box, the more expensive out of all three displayed before him. Without missing a beat, he also seized both the orange and pink boxes in quick succession, holding them close to his chest.
Satoru broke into a hearty laugh, a wide grin split his face, as he affectionately tousled the boy's head with pride.
“That's my boy! Splurging is allowed—after all, we're rich!”
When the first signs of cold manifested in you, Satoru was already worried. He had warned you to take more rest, but typical you, you brushed it off as a mere fatigue.
And when this morning, you woke up to sudden coughing fits and hot-and-cold spells, which ended up with kicking him out of your shared bedroom in fear of spreading the virus, like the doting husband he was, Satoru promptly headed to the pharmacy with your baby in tow to get you some help.
"Oh my, sir, your son is so adorable!" the female cashier gushed when he got over to pay, finally voicing what other customers thought in their heads. He could sense the discreet glances from those around him even now.
As the baby clung to his shirt, Satoru tightened his grip on him and responded with a self-assured grin, ensuring those nearby heard his words, "Of course he is! My wife is pretty as heck too, shame she's down with fever today."
"Aww! Such high praise, you must adore your wife!"
"Mm-hmm!"
Ah, so he still has a wife. The other customers went about their day, some disappointed that the dilf was still evidently devoted to his wife. They could only wonder just who could the lucky woman was.
Moving on— after the short trip to the drugstore, Satoru went back home. He promptly checked on you in your master bedroom, inquiring, "Hey, how are—"
But he immediately halted upon seeing you nestled so comfortably under the blankets, sleeping soundly. For a moment, he simply stood, blinking and observing your serene slumber.
Strange that something inside him both softened and lurched at the sight. You were just that precious in his eyes. Stupid as it was, he was quite miserable to go through the day without your nagging and nitpicking. And above all, he never liked seeing you in any kind of discomfort—it made his protective instincts soar.
Hence his thought— there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even if it means sacrificing heaven itself.
“Myah!” A hard shove on his arm and his baby’s babbling snapped him out of his trance. Satoru shifted his baby to his other hand, let out a questioning hum, and affectionately pinched his mochi-like cheeks.
“Hmm? You can’t be hungry, I—oooh,” a sheepish expression of realization appeared on his face, his blue eyes widened slightly as his baby glared at him. Then, chuckling like the goofball he was, Satoru patted him on his head to appease his grudge, “I haven’t fed you since this morning, eh?”
“Fwah!”
“Pfft! There, there… Me is sorry~ Now let me whip something up for you and mama, yeah?”
Now, he wouldn't claim to be the best chef, but he could certainly cook to save himself. Rolling up his sleeve, he went to the kitchen after leaving and stuffing his baby boy with a pacifier on his high chair.
“Hmmm, baby food for the minion and… congee? Yeah, congee should be good.”
Next task was feeding his already seething baby after he mixed together his baby food. He was a fussy eater—mostly with him, but surprisingly not so much with you (apparently, that's just his way of showing who he favors between his parents, heh). But when he managed to get the food in, with every spoonful, his son’s smile gradually widened, and so did his happiness.
Satoru thought then that he was the cutest thing he had ever created. His son was clearly a mini-him, but his reactions were definitely so you.
“Is it tasty? It is, isn’t it?” he cooed with baby voice, earning a delightful giggle in response from his son. Pushing his luck, he added with a suggestive grin, “Papa is the best, isn’t he?”
“Bwah...” The joyful expression on his baby's face faded instantly, dissolving into an unamused pout, prompting Satoru to righteously click his tongue.
“Why are you so against me?!”
After he was done with his fill, Satoru picked your baby up to the master bedroom to bring you something to eat. Seated on the opposite edge of the bed, he silently adored your sleeping form once again.
Right at that moment, the baby in his arms wriggled, reaching out for you. Acting on a sudden impulse, he put him on the bed, facing you.
“Now, go to mama, would you?” he whispered gently, grinning and giving his bum a light pat. “Go!”
Your son was also Gojo Satoru’s son, therefore he was an adept crawler even at barely seven months old. With remarkable agility, the little soldier steadily moved towards you, his diapers jiggling with each motion. He stopped right in front of your face, clearly recognizing you as his mother.
And your husband swore that even his logic-driven heart melted at the sight of your cute baby suddenly leaned in and clumsily smooched your nose.
Simply just the two most treasured loves of his life.
“Mm?” you let out a soft grunt, feeling the dryness in your throat as you cracked your eyes open, surprised to find yourself face-to-face with your baby. “Oh… why are you here? Don’t get too close…”
“He’ll be fine.” Satoru picked your son up, placing him on his knee and steadying him with one arm. Having moved next to you on the bed, he brushed hair from your forehead. “What about you, hmm? Feeling better?”
Your eyebrows creased into a frown. “Yeah, I think, but more than that, Satoru, I’ve told you, don’t let him—”
“Yes, yes, sweetheart. He won’t get sick, look, he’s as healthy as he can be~” and to make a point, he turned his baby over and lightly smacked his bottom, prompting a whimper from the little one and a gasp from you.
“Don’t spank him!”
“Ehh? Then can I spank you instead?”
“Satoru, you’re a little piece of—!”
Just you and him, as well as the little treasure that was your son. This little family was enough reason to live. To win.
And Gojo Satoru once again thought, that being the strongest didn’t really mean that much anymore because with his world in his hands, nothing else matters.
Epilogue
“You’re so silly, why did you buy so many?” you grumbled at the sight of three different brands of cold medicine your husband displayed in front of you. “One is enough, do you want me to overdose?”
Satoru snickered. “Don’t blame me, blame your kid. He’s the one picking all of them.”
You totally didn’t get what he meant at all, but yeah, your husband was the silliest human ever and that’s that.
“Hey, don’t you think it’s a bit smelly here?” Satoru suddenly asked, wearing a quizzical expression.
You took a sniff of the air, glancing at your baby blinking innocently and sitting calmly on your husband, and a realization struck you. “Uh, Satoru...”
Following your gaze, as if sensing an omen, Satoru hastily scooped up his son, letting out a bewildered gasp as he felt a slight wetness where the baby had been sitting on him.
“Did he just poo on me?!”
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#gojo satoru fluff#dad!gojo#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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♪ SAD GIRL.
pretty when you cry alternative
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: another bad day calls for another solution. simon knows best, after all.
tags: smut, mentions of crying, comfort, self-indulgent, dumbification ??, dirty talk, a sprinkle of breeding, unedited filth
You're not entirely sure how you got here.
You know why; you'd been stressing your precious head off for the whole week. These past few days seem to be worse than the past ones that had you crying your eyes out in Simon's arms. University has taken its toll on you, and your work is anything but helpful. You don't even have time to cry now! At some point, you barely even had time to spend with your beloved boyfriend, so he took matters into his own capable hands.
Still, you don't know how. You try to remember, but it's hard to think when Simon's even harder dick is stretching out your – in his words – pretty little cunt once more. It's no use trying to work your brain, he claims, not when your shoulders are slumped, your head is leaning on him, and he's rubbing his thick cock against the walls of your pussy just right.
Really, you tried to deal with your stress in a more appropriate way, but you knew it was futile. You admitted defeat when you felt his hands slip from your waist to your hips, when his lips found your neck, when his cold fingers played with your clit and when he'd eased you down on his cock with praises and whispers.
It's just not your fault that he knows the right buttons to push, and he seems to love turning your brain off. What's going on in that brain 'f yours, lovie? C'mon, 'nough of that. Leave it all t'me. If he had it his way, he'd have you drop out of that awful university you always complain about. Please let him provide for you.
"Y'don' even have t' do anything, baby," he grunts in your ear lowly, hot breath hitting your skin. So you don't. You pant against him like a pathetic thing, but you're so far gone in the pleasure that you just can't bring yourself to be a little shy about your state of mind, or rather, the lack of it.
"Such a good fuckin'–" he moans out loud when you clench around him a little too hard without warning, "girl. That's m'girl, tha's it."
You moan his name back, the only thing you can think of. Whining when his thrusts become rougher and harder, he coos, "I know, I know. Almost there, baby, I got'cha."
His pants aren't even all the way down. Shameless bastard! He opted to slide them down his muscular thighs to let the noticeable bulge slip out of its enclosure. His hands have long since shoved themselves under your clothes, not bothering to take them off either. It makes you feel icky, desperate, and utterly pathetic, but the way his cold skin freezes the surface of your bare hips while he moves you up and down on his leaky cock is enough to take your mind off of it.
You're a bit too loud for your own liking, and Simon's dirty talk isn't helping. He laces the lewd sounds of your bedroom with his own groans and grunts that your neighbors are sure to hear and complain about. And when he finds that spot of yours, he pounds you into the mattress like your lives depend on it. You'll just have to ignore the weird looks and glares they give you when you step out of your house.
Oh, but what can you do? You're at his mercy; all you can bring yourself to do is whine and moan for him, but don't worry, he'll take it as a reward for taking such good care of his pretty baby. He's hell-bent on finding ways to comfort you. If he can't fix you with sweet pecks and warm cuddles, he'll fix you up real good with sloppy kisses and his leaky cock. :3
You'll be a good girl and not complain when he cums in you, right?
divider by @cafekitsune !
#౨ৎ simon !#୨୧ audi's works !#my asks are open pls talk to me#i should really make a masterlist now#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#cod x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#cod mw2#cod x you#smut#cod smut#simon riley smut
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your pregnant crocheting hc had me thinking 👁️ so you know pregnancy brain? Is when pregnant women experience memory loss, lack of concentration and more emotional sensitivity (and more crying) so imagine minho or seungmin trying to keep up with their usual banter/menace/tsundere tendencies with their partner and it goes terribly wrong or backfires
i am deeply familiar with such symptoms yes 😅 (you can get pregnancy brain from any influx or imbalance of estrogen and/or progesterone so i personally experience this a lot so this was very self indulgent djhgfs) i chose seung for this because i felt like he’s more likely to accidentally cross the line than mimo but if you want his version too let me know 🥹
(warnings; swearing, pregnant!reader, tears, slight angst, seungmin is a tsundy dumbass)
“hey, baby,” you yell into the living room as you rummage around the blankets looking for your phone. “is my phone there?”
seungmin and you were supposed to go out for a walk ten minutes ago but you couldn’t seem to find your shoes and then your second earring went missing and now your phone. you kept losing everything lately.
there’s no answer and you’ve already moved the pillows around three times but it’s nowhere. you don’t have any pockets, you’ve already checked your bag. “seung!!!”
“what?” he walks in, eyebrows raised at you.
“can you please help me?” you huff out, “i can’t find my phone and you aren’t helping.”
seungmin laughs loudly, deep and meaningfully like he does when he successfully teases his friends. you don’t really find any part of this funny.
“seung, this isn’t funny!!” you whine, “the bubble tea place is going to close in like,” you tap the phone in your hand, showing its ten minutes before their closing time, “in ten minutes and you said we’d go there but we won’t make it in ten minutes if i can’t find my fucking phone!”
“bubs, are you being serious?” he asks, eyebrows frowning in slight concern. you throw your hands up in the air.
“if you aren’t gonna help me just go on your walk alone then,” you groan, huffing before you sit down on the bed, looking left and right to try and find a hint of where your phone went off to.
“would it really be that hard for you to call me so i can find it?” you glare at him.
“nah,” he chuckles, “i’d like to see this one play out.”
“why are you being like this?” you sigh, looking up at him. seungmin just shrugs, the way he always does, but there’s a slight teasing smirk on his face.
usually, you know why he’s smirking like that at you. there’s some joke, some dance of his that you try and follow while you exchange banter between each other (and maybe throw in a few kisses to the mix). but right now you can’t seem to remember exactly what the conversation was about and if you started teasing him first but it kinda felt like he was laughing at you and you didn’t really like that. you look away from him, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze.
you take in a deep breath as you pointedly ignore seungmin’s eyes on you. he’s studying you closely but you don’t really get why, and by now you’re sure the bubble tea place is closed and you’ve been craving it so badly for the past ten minutes you think you won’t ever eat again until you can satisfy the need for the softly popping tapioca pearls in your mouth. it’s too late now.
you feel your nose stinging lightly as tears gather up in your eyes. you blink them away, tonguing your cheek to try and calm yourself. you’ve already looked everywhere for your phone and your husband is being insufferable and not helping and your thighs burn all the time and your lower back has a constant dull ache in it and nothing ever makes it better and you want bubble tea so fucking bad.
you’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a small vibration in your lap.
it’s your phone. your phone!!!!
you jump up, eyes wide as you try and recall just how long it’s been in your lap (did seungmin put it there for you without you noticing?) but before you get to rush over him to thank him you see why the phone vibrated in the first place. a text message.
bubs’ hubs: pabo
your eyebrows frown, reading the message a few times. “you think i’m stupid?”
“what?” seungmin’s jaw practically drops to the floor. he blinks at you.
“you saw the phone was here this whole time and you let me get worried and waste our time just so you could call me stupid?” you feel the familiar stinging back as you blink quickly to stop the sting away. all it does is obscure your vision when the big drops start clinging onto your lashes.
“you’re not stupid,” seungmin says, quietly.
“but you just said i was, you could’ve said here’s your phone but what you said is stupid.”
“no, it wasn’t as like ‘stupid’ i meant pabo like affectionately you know, like how i say you’re annoying and i hate you and stuff?” he raises his eyebrows hopefully, dipping his head enough to look directly into your eyes. you see his own brown ones fill with worry when he sees just how much you’re crying.
“i’m annoying and you hate me…” you confirm quietly, walking past seungmin and into the living room. you didn’t realise seungmin thought that about you, but it was best to have everything out in the open you guess.
“what else?” you say when you feel seungmin following you. “am i ugly? do you think i’m mean and hopeless?”
“no, no, no,” seungmin quickly grabs your wrist, cupping your fingers in both of his large hands. “you misunderstood.”
“because i’m stupid,” you agree.
“no!” seungmin huffs. “you just couldn’t find the phone, it’s okay.”
“but you texted saying t—“
“—i texted so you’d find it. i thought it would make you laugh because objectively it is kinda silly to look for your phone when you’re holding it,” you feel more tears slip down your cheeks, “and you’re super cute when you’re silly.”
you squeeze his hands softly.
“seung,” you feel a sob rip through your chest, “my bubble tea.”
“i know,” he soothes, squeezing your hand tightly, “i’ll get you one from somewhere else?”
you nod quickly. seungmin affirms with a low hum and kisses your forehead, but you recoil.
“hey,” he lets out softly.
“i don’t, i don’t get why i’m annoying,” you shake your head, wiping away at your stubborn tears.
“you aren’t,” seungmin whines, jumping in place a few times. “i was just teasing!”
“but why would—“
“—because i’m the pabo, okay? i didn’t realise it was over the line. i just wanted to make my bubs laugh.”
“it wasn’t funny,” you stubbornly mumble.
“i know. bad puppy,” he frowns at you, or more like himself, and you giggle at the way his bottom lip sticks out.
he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly as he sways the pair of you from side to side. seungmin feels bad, awful even, for disregarding how emotional you might be. especially now while carrying his child for him. so he kisses you softly, the kiss stretching over a couple of minutes, before he quickly orders you the bubble tea you wanted and insists on cuddling you until he’s forgiven. he already is, you aren’t really so sure why you were that upset at something pretty trivial, but the tears kept coming and you couldn’t help them.
seungmin kisses them away regardless of how embarrassed you were by the whole thing, and then he presses a soft kiss on your belly too.
#ask#anon#skz x reader#skz x you#seungmin x reader#seungmin x y/n#seungmin x you#skz x y/n#dad!skz#dad!seungmin#soft thoughts#seungmin thoughts#all.works#skz.blurbs#stray kids drabbles#stray kids blurbs#kpop x reader
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Carmy with a stressed cranky gf getting her degree and he’s just so good to her ughhhhhhh (so self-indulgent)
“Carmen, could you—could you just, fuckin’—…watch where you’re going?”
He freezes where he took a misstep, leaving your laptop’s charger dangling near the floor after accidentally unplugging it. A simple little thing, a dumb mistake made while caught up in something else mentally. A matter of a charger extended beyond its comfortable reach. It’d be fixed in seconds, but you weren’t having it.
A confused look washes over him. “I-I’m sorry, baby—” He knows you’re in one of those moods—he always knows—and lowers to pick up the cord. “Lemme plug it back in for you—”
“Or you could just not walk right into it,” you snap, fingers tapping away at your keyboard, face illuminated in a blueish hue from the screen.
“Hey.” He perks right back up after fixing the charger, but you don’t look back at him. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t start that w’me, c’mon.” He comes a little closer, perched at the end of the couch right beside you. “You’re in a mood.”
“I’m not.” You definitely are.
“Baby.” Instinctively, his hand comes to rub your shoulder, his thumb presses just a little firmer along the crook of your neck. “Take a break for the night.”
“I need to finish up with this—”
“‘M not asking.” He gives you that look, with his hands extended to silently demand you hand over your computer. “It’s a Friday night. C’mon.”
You pout, and you huff, and you give him those eyes that tell him you don’t want to, but you save your document and hand it over anyway, quickly curling into the end of the couch and not making a move when he sits next to you.
“You mad at me?” he asks, looping his arm over your shoulder, a little hurt when you don’t melt into his touch like you usually do.
You keep your eyes glued to the wall, not paying him any mind. “No.”
“Then why’re you always workin’, huh?” He squeezes you a little tighter, bringing you deeper into his embrace as he cups your jaw—with those firm, strong hands of his that somehow always have you pliant—and turns you to look up at him. “Every time I come home you’re on the computer with that look on your face.”
“I don’t have a look.”
Smiling, he presses his lips to your forehead. “Yeah you do.” Then to the furrow in your brow. “But it’s cute.”
He scatters slow, gentle kisses across your face, from your temples, to your cheeks, to your jaw, until he finds your lips and takes them carefully, relishing in your act of apology when your hands circle around his forearms and kiss him a little deeper. And slowly, he feels the tenseness in your body begin to dissipate, feels you turn into him more.
Pulling away, still intent on figuring out your rut, he rests his forehead to yours. “Talk to me, baby. What’s got you actin’ all mean, hm?” His hands hold you close, and his thumbs graze your cheekbones. “Somethin’ I do you wanna talk about?”
“No—”
“No?” He’d be lying if he said a wave of relief washed over him. “What’s goin’ on then?”
“I’m—it’s just that—…” You sigh.
He waits patiently, knowing that by now he’s cracking open that shell. “‘S alright, hon, we can work it out.”
“Carmen, I just—” And your lip quivers, and your throat gets sore, and your vision gets bleary from tears emerging. “I have so much to do, and—…”
“For school?”
You nod against him. “It’s just—I get behind on one thing, and then there’s five other things I need to do, and I try to get ahead but then I don’t sleep, and—I-I’m just stressed, is all.”
“I know.” He coos gently at you and thumbs away your tears. “I know, ‘n you’ve been workin’ so hard, baby.”
“Well I’m still not getting anywhere.” Your throat tightens, and tears keep falling, and you feel your resolve crumbling, the last of your strength dissolving now that Carmen’s handling you so gently. “And I just feel so stupid all the time—”
“Uh-uh,” he nudges his nose against yours, “You don’t get to say that, you’re the smartest person I know.”
He pulls you away carefully, just to look you in the eye—and his gut wrenches, seeing you like this, all pouty and wet with tears, your lips salty when he kisses them slowly to mellow the racing of your heart.
With a calm hand he urges your head to rest against his chest, his lips lending a kiss to your temple. “So fuckin’ smart ‘n you don’t even know it.” Naturally, the rest of you follows, with his arms keeping you close, one wrapped around your waist to hold you tight as the other hand rests with on the back of your neck to soothe you, scratching gently at the nape of it. “Always blowin’ me away, baby, you’re so smart. So hardworkin’, too—”
“But Carm—” Your sobs choke you up then, and there’s a throb in your forehead that has you almost begging for sleep.
“Shhh, what is it?” His hand smooths up and down your back, his voice becomes gentler than ever. “Take a breath, c’mon, take a deep breath.”
You push yourself away from his chest, seeing the tears staining his white tee before you look up at him. “I’m sorry, Bear. All the stress, it’s—I’ve been so mean to you lately—” you don’t even process the vigorous shake of his head— “I’m sorry, Bear—”
“Hey, hey, baby, stop—” He wipes tears from your eyes before they get the chance to spill onto your cheeks. “Stop with that, would ya?” Another kiss to your forehead has you melting. “You’re okay. We’re okay.” Another kiss, slower, to your sob-bitten lips, like he wants you to taste his forgiveness.
“But I was mean to you, and I’m sorry—”
His chest physically aches because he knows there’s only so much he can do for you. “I know,” he tells you, “I know, baby, I got you. It’s okay.”
“I promise don’t mean it, Carmen—”
“Yeah, I know that, hon.” Pulling you tight to his chest again, his strong arms wrap around you fully, and he presses kisses to the skin where he’s nuzzled into your neck. “You’re workin’ yourself to the bone, y’know that?”
“Mhm,” you hum, just happy to be held, to be swallowed whole by his warmth.
“You promise to rest up from now on?”
“Mhm.”
“Yeah? Not even listenin’, huh?”
“Mhm.” You burrow into him just a little deeper, eyes slipping shut.
He scoffs, but it’s full of love. “It’s gettin’ late now.” He shuffles you closer to him with little effort, hooking his hands beneath your thighs to encourage them around his hips. “Let’s get you t’bed, hm? C’mon—” he hoists you to his hip with a subtle grunt— “Up you go, baby, that’s it—”
And in the brief minute or two it takes for him to turn out the lights in your shared apartment, and the twenty-some paces to the bedroom, you’re lulled off to sleep in his embrace, stoking that fire in his chest that keeps him going—because knowing you feel safe with him, secure with him, is all he really needs.
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#jeremy allen white#carmy the bear#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto imagines#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu
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"my girlfriend's a nerd" ft. the monster trio!
self explanatory self-indulgent drabbles to soothe my book!loving ass
ft. luffy, zoro and sanji x fem! reader
set-up: you like books, he likes you that's it
warnings: none lmao this is very sfw. one might call it wholesome even.
luffy:
thats my baby ^^
— im not even sure if this mf can read 😭😭
— honestly 9/10 chance he can't but when has that ever stopped him from being our most supportive himbo king
— go king give us everything!!
— he doesn't get why you read books when instead you can be like sleeping or eating or looking at the sea but well, he doesn't question it
— he just thinks it's a weird hobby you have (i don't think he's aware of how freakishly illiterate he is)
— but just cause he thinks it's weird that doesn't mean he wouldn't hug you half-asleep when he hears you sobbing into the dead of the night or he wouldn't listen with keen interest when you explain the plot of your favourite book as he wraps his arms around you and hums into your hair
— will 100% offer to fight the author/ tear up the book everytime he sees you having a breakdown over a particular scene/character
"who should I kill?!" the deadpan seriousness in his voice is what terrifies you
"nobody! I'm okay–"
— after you explain to him that hurting somebody is not necessary and you're fine, he will try to coddle you with extended hugs and food (lots and lots and lots of food).
"yn you should eat something! should I get you something to eat??" you can hear the panic in this poor boys voice 😭😭
"no luffy, its okay. im fine!" you say through sniffs and snorts, eyes bloodshot from crying over ink on paper
"brb" and he gets you dinner enough for 5 people because that's how he knows to comfort you (willingly took sanjis kicks and namis punches to accomplish this mission)
— since he's a clingy little child, he will hold onto you some way or the other when you're reading
— you're reading in your room while he's fast asleep? his arm is draped across your waist lazily. you're on the other side of the deck, sunbathing and reading? his hand is stretched out from where he's sitting and on your thigh (ussop tripped thrice over his hand, rip god ussop 🙏) . you're reading during breakfast cause the book just got so good? his toe is rubbing your calf up and down periodically (he won't stop no matter how many weird looks you give him)
— conclusion: he doesn't at all get it what it is, but if it makes you happy he will spend all the berries in the world to buy you those books (plz know if you actually ask him to jokingly off an author for killing your favourite character, he will do it. please don't ask him that.)
— he's just so supportive and nice 😭😭
"my girlfriends a nerd, I love her" (ussop explained to him what a nerd was and now he's introducing you like this to everybody)
zoro:
the shades tho 😎
— I'm convinced this mf can't read either
— even he can there's like literally no evidence to prove it and the entire crew has come to the conclusion that he gets lost even with clear directions because he just can't read please 😌👌
— at the start, he actually thinks it's dead stupid to invest so much time reading books when you can do other stuff like getting stronger, sleeping, literally doing anything else (luffy backs up his opinion with full enthusiasm)
— i mean like he's seen you sob at 7 in the morning over breakfast cause your fav character died and now he's confused as to why are you spending money and buying books if they make you cry so hard (he doesn't understand the concept of angst im afraid)
— but over time he just accepts it as something you enjoy and well, if it makes you happy then who is he to question it?
— acts like he doesn't care/isn't listening when you're rambling about the plot and how thE MAIN CHARACTER IS IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY AND VICE VERSA SKEJFHSJKSN but is actually fully listening
— he's actually invested at one point
"but they are enemies? why does he wanna be with him?"
"you don't get it! thats the appeal!!"
"the appeal is forcing a knife on somebody's throat?" he's laughing, "as if you'd enjoy it if i threatened you with my swords"
"... i would actually enjoy that"
he is now asking nami for loan to send you to a therapist (nami has seen you nosebleed over fictional characters and is considering giving money away to zoro for free. you really do need help.)
— as I said, he's invested now (although he does question your taste every now and then) but he'd force you to either summarize the plot to him as he trains or read out loud so he can hear the story as it goes.
— so naturally you're now sitting on his back, reading out loud as he does push-ups
— this beloved himbo has now formed strong opinions about characters and will battle you with headcanons because "there's no fucking way the hero would ever go back to the villain after that! that's ridiculous! if he does I'll sell my swords off."
— will remember the stuff you told him, no matter how trivial, so if you get off an island and he spots a keychain from your fav book series he's spending whatever money he has left to buy you it
"oh excellent choice! who are you buying it for?" the shopkeeper lady questions aloud
"oh, my girlfriend." he's smiling, "my girlfriends a nerd."
— actually looks forward to you telling him all the plot details and jokes at this point (one might call him a part of the fandom now)
— when you're a crying, sobbing mess because a character died, he's genuinely comforting you (no matter how bad he is at it)
"yn it's okay, you want some sake?" he is hugging you, patting your head like you're a child
"no 😭😭" you sob harder into his chest
"well... that's the best i can offer"
he tried. it's not his fault you don't wanna drink your feelings away.
— conclusion: he started off thinking its stupid and now he's an honorary nerd. would never admit it though. stubborn asshole.
sanji:
he's actually so pretty tho ^^
— he actually liked reading books before you even joined the crew although his tbr consists of cookbooks and auto-biographies about the people he has some interest in
— he started reading so that he could impress zeff with his knowledge on cooking and other miscellaneous stuff (imagine kid!sanji reading a book till late night under a lamp cause he wants to impress his old man that's so cute 😭😭)
— respects your hobbies when he finds out you like reading
— and then he sees your book collection. whY ARE THERE LIKE 5000 BOOKS HERE?! NOW HES SCARED FOR YOUR SANITY CAUSE GIRL WTF
— he hears you recommend a book to robin/nami once and now he's running to the nearest bookstore on the next island you guys land on to buy it
— he obviously did it to impress you and win you over but goddamn that book was actually pretty nice. so, the next time he asks you for recommendations he's actually a bit sincere
— now you're both in a book club of your own (which makes luffy mad cause why are you leaving him out of conversations :/)
— like zoro, he often asks for updates on the book you're currently reading while he cooks everyone food. he loves hearing you talk about the things you like.
— when he sees you crying over books, he is making you sweet stuff to soothe you, holding you and rubbing your back supportingly, peppering kisses to make you feel better
— he's so fine 😫😫
— anyways, also def the kind of person to ask you to roleplay things in real life
"yn-saaaan" his voice is bubbly, "can i ask you something?"
"mhm?"
"the last book you read–" his face is going a little bit red, "you think we can maybe... do that irl?"
now it's your turn to go red
— but no fr, he's so so supportive of your little hobby like yes baby! read those books and have fun imagining people in your head
— 100% matches your vibe when you crush on fictional characters cause "you're right. he is actually very attractive" (a bi king we love)
— once zoro made fun of you for reading and this was his response: "you can't even read, mosshead. the next time you speak shit I'll kick your ass."
"who said I CANT READ? AND AS IF ILL LET YOU KICK MY ASS!"
"I TOTALLY WILL KICK YOUR ASS"
now they are fighting while ussop, luffy and chopper laugh in the background
— but yes he loves staying up late, reading with you before you both cuddle and fall asleep
— you once read about a specific sort of dish in a book and mentioned that it sounds delicious so now obviously he has to go make that dish. it doesn't matter if it's 1 am at night.
— when nami asks him what he's cooking, he just smiles and shrugs, "i dunno either, im just trying to make yn happy. she's such a nerd"
— conclusion: an enabler, an enthusiast. this man is ready to buy you books and then read them if it makes you happy. only the finest for his favourite lady <3
a/n: enjoy my wayward thoughts about these fine men!
#one piece#opla#roronoa zoro#one piece zoro#op#vinsmoke sanji#monkey d luffy#luffy one piece#one piece luffy#one piece sanji#luffy x reader#sanji x reader#zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#one piece men#one piece headcanons#luffy headcanons#zoro headcanons#sanji headcanons#one piece fluff
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obedience (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+
summary: you decide to act out after feeling neglected by joel for over a week. it doesn’t go quite according to plan, but his punishment does help you unlock a new kink or two.
warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, daddy kink, d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, brat tamer joel, degradation/humiliation (use of slut, whore, 1 use of bitch), orgasm denial/edging, boot riding, pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin’, sugar, sweetheart, honey, puppy), entering petplay territory??, finger sucking, one face slap but she likes it (and so do i), taking/sending nudes at work, subspace, hair pulling, joel cums on reader’s face, cum eating, two idiots who finally communicate and apologize to each other, gets soft at the end bc i’m a woman of many interests, reader can be carried by joel but no other physical descriptions, winter’s limited knowledge of what contractors do, pic of girl in the moodboard is for bra imagery only, reader looks just like you!! :)
word count: 4.1k
a/n: this is extremely self indulgent so please don’t look at me!!! lil shoutout to @pascalisbaby for inspiring me to write something just so i can use “puppy” bc their love’s gonna get you killed series has fucked me up extremely bad.
divider by @saradika
It’s coming up on nearly a week and a half of Joel working long days and late nights at the latest suburban McMansion he’s been contracted out to. Each and every time he creeps into his side of the bed after you’ve already gone to sleep, never failing to wake you up in the process, he always has a different excuse. “My concrete guy was out sick today”, “the vendor gave us the wrong size rebar”, “the landscapers were in our way all damn day”, and other similar eye roll-inducing anecdotes that were followed up with sleepy apologies.
Tonight, you’re almost certain, will be just the same.
Slogging through yet another slow and uneventful day at your corporate nine-to-five, you’re practically counting down the seconds until you’ll be able to escape your drab little cubicle for the day. You aren’t exactly looking forward to going home, though, either. You know that all you have waiting for you will be another lonely night of heating up a frozen dinner, watching reality TV reruns until the ten o’clock news comes on, and then tucking yourself into a cold bed.
While you’re waiting around for a coworker to message you back about something painfully unimportant, you decide to get up to kill some time in the bathroom on your phone and stretch your legs a bit. You stand up from your rolling chair, grabbing your phone in the process, and head down the hall to the one single-person bathroom in the building that you know of.
You step inside and click the lock shut behind you, looking forward to having a rare few minutes to yourself without the threat of your manager lurking over your shoulder. You inspect your makeup in the mirror and address some flyaway hairs before leaning back against the sink and swiping your home screen into view. Your heart soars at the discovery of a text notification from Joel, but settles just as quickly when you read the words across your screen.
A couple of my dumbass guys fucked up some measurements again. Gonna be another late one. Sorry baby.
You let out an exasperated sigh and turn around to face your reflection again, bracing yourself on the edge of the sink and trying not to cry. How much fucking longer are you going to have to put up with this? You'd been getting through it alright so far, but his sterile text had ignited a raging fire deep in your stomach that made a scorching heat climb its way up the back of your neck.
You’re determined to get his attention tonight, one way or another. Even if it means pushing some of his buttons, riling him up, making him feel a few licks of that very same inferno. You’re feeling fucking bratty.
You undo the top few buttons of your blouse and shimmy it off your shoulders, exposing the blushing lace of the bra you had chosen when you were getting dressed this morning. Using one arm to hold your phone up to the mirror with the camera app open, you use the other one to prop yourself up against the sink and assist in pushing your tits together. As a final touch, you pull down one of the delicate cups along with its accompanying strap, exposing an already peaked nipple. Meeting your own eyes in the reflection and forming your glossy lips into a faux pout, you snap the picture and attach it to your text conversation with Joel. You type out a coy little message to go along with it and send it off.
that’s okay daddy. just sad i wore a rly cute bra today for nothing :(
While you anxiously wait for his response, you take a few more lewd photos to tease him with later, and make your way back to your desk after you button yourself up again and smooth out your skirt.
Sitting back down at your cubicle, you check your notifications to find a response from Joel, sent just a few seconds ago.
What’d I tell you about sendin me shit like that when I’m at work? Put your fuckin tits away babygirl. Not in the mood today.
Despite his harsh words, you know your plan is already working in your favor. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you attach another one of the photos you had taken in the bathroom, this one of your matching lace panties pulled aside to expose your bare pussy to the front camera. You type out another flirtatious message and tap the button to send it.
idk what u mean daddy :( just miss u is all. she misses u too :((
You promptly turn off your phone and place it screen-down next to your mousepad, resigning yourself to a mere ten minutes of work before you can’t resist temptation anymore and pick it back up again to check for a reply.
Last warning babygirl. I got enough shit to deal with today, don’t need your slutty pictures distractin me. I’ll see ya tonight.
whatever. u don’t pay attention to me anymore anyway :/
You begin to regret your message as soon as you send it, worrying you might have taken things too far. But it was true; you’re upset, in a bratty mood, and feeling neglected. And, maybe you did want to work him up enough for him to take it all out on you, to fuck the attitude out of you the way you know he likes to do every so often.
A few seconds after you power off your screen to do a few more minutes of work, it illuminates again.
Oh I don't? When I get home tonight you better be kneelin in front of the door waitin for me undressed like a good girl. Not like the fuckin brat you’re actin like. And we’ll see about payin you some attention. Now pull your fuckin panties up and get back to work.
Your heart jumps into your throat as you read his text, now feeling exhilarated that your plan is officially in motion. After you’ve read his words through a couple of times, squeezing your thighs together and stifling a whimper as you did so, your trembling fingers type out a simple reply:
yes daddy <3
The remainder of your work day seems to pass by in slow motion, every minute feeling more like five. You can hardly bring yourself to focus on any of your mundane tasks, your mind constantly drifting to what you might be in for tonight. Will he spank you and leave red handprints on your ass for days? Will he fuck your face while you sputter and gasp around him? Will he work you over with his tongue until all you know how to say is “I’m sorry, Daddy”? As you shake yourself from your trance and try to focus your eyes again, you wonder why you hadn’t thought to act up like this earlier in the week. You keep your eye on the little digital clock in the corner of your monitor for the last five consecutive minutes of your work day, and as soon as 4:59 flashes to 5:00, you practically sprint out to your car in your hurry to get home.
–
You’re cuddled up on the couch underneath your favorite fleece blanket, already stripped down to your peony-colored underwear set like Joel had requested. The past couple of hours have been spent cycling between all of your streaming services and social media apps, trying desperately to find something to occupy yourself with until he gets home. You’re half-tempted to get up and walk some laps around the house, but around 10:30, you finally see the scanning headlights of Joel’s pickup as it turns into the driveway.
You immediately spring up from your little nest on the couch and prance over to the front door, kneeling a few feet in front of it just like he ordered.
In your excited anticipation to see him, you tune your ears to pick up every little sound you hear as he makes his way to you: the slam of the truck’s driver’s side door, the dull thud of his work boots heading up the walkway, the prolonged jingling of his keys as he fumbles with them to unlock the door. You’re sure he’s fidgeting with them for a few seconds longer than usual, just to tease you and keep you waiting. A shiver runs up your spine and you can feel your heart pounding against the walls of your chest as he finally turns the lock.
He calmly steps inside and closes the door behind him, dropping his dusty work bag onto the floor and stripping himself of his canvas tool belt. He stalks over to where you’re knelt on the hardwood, wrapped in your dainty lace for him like a little doll. There’s something arousing about the contrast between your barely-there feminine attire and his dark, practical clothing.
“Well, whaddya know, she can be good after all… Waitin’ for me all nice and pretty just like I asked. All it takes is an order from your Daddy to get you actin’ right again, ain’t that right, babygirl? Obedient lil’ thing…” He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he speaks, keeping your eyes trained on his. You nod up at him, doe-eyed and dazed, already feeling yourself beginning to slip into that familiar saccharine headspace.
Every time you had previously tried your hand at bratting, it never lasted very long, and tonight was already proving to be no different. He was right, after all, it doesn’t take more than a command, a look, a gentle grasp of your chin, to remind you of your desire to be good for him.
“What, Daddy doesn’t get a proper greetin’ after a long day o’ work? You already that far gone f’ me, can’t use your words proper like a big girl?”
“H-hi, Daddy… Missed you today,” you half-whisper, your voice sounding a little higher and further away than it did earlier in the day.
“Yeah, I know y’ did… I’ll bet your lil’ panties are ‘bout soaked through already, bet you left a wet spot on your fuckin’ desk chair just from daydreamin’ about what I was gonna do to you tonight, hm?”
Another silent nod accompanied by a pitiful little whimper. The blazing fire in your gut from this afternoon is quickly being replaced by something much more easily tamed, something more akin to a flickering candle flame than a wildfire. You struggle to keep your eyelids open as they begin to feel heavier with submission.
A stern look and a ticked jaw is enough for you to correct your wordless response.
“Y-yes, Daddy…”
“And what is it that you think I’m gonna do with you tonight, babygirl? Speak up, now…”
You rack your brain for a moment, suddenly unable to remember any of the depraved fantasies you had been conjuring up all day instead of replying to emails. You eventually land on a relatively straightforward answer.
“I th-think you’re gonna… gonna fuck the attitude outta me, t-teach me a lesson… right, Daddy?”
He lets out a dark chuckle, releasing your chin from his hold to give your cheek a couple of condescending pats instead.
“Aww, dumb lil’ thing… you thought Daddy was gonna touch you at all tonight, make that pathetic lil’ pussy cum after the stunts you were pullin’ today? Nah, I don’t think so… Open that slutty fuckin’ mouth.”
You’re reeling, taken aback by his harsh words, words that were certainly not in any of the countless scenarios you had been imagining at work. There’s a long beat of silence as you struggle to process his command.
You hear the smack across your face before you feel the heated sting of it, and it prompts a debauched mewl to spill from your parted lips.
“I said open your fuckin’ mouth…”
Your jaw falls slack in an instant, your pulsing cunt releasing an ashamed wave of wetness at the degrading slap. Joel shoves his thumb inside your waiting mouth, and you wrap your lips around it obediently as you swirl your tongue along its calloused landscape. It tastes salty, a little dirty, and you like it.
“Good girl, suck on Daddy’s thumb, tha’s it… dumb whore’ll suck on anything Daddy puts in her mouth, won’t she? Desperate lil’ thing… Bet you wish it was this fat cock instead, don’t you baby?”
You whine and nod around him, your hole squeezing around nothing as you look up at him with pleading eyes.
“Well… that’s just too fuckin’ bad, ain’t it? Tonight’s not about what you want, you can gimme that sad puppy look all you like, sugar, not gonna change anythin’...”
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, and your slick lips try to chase after it until he wipes it clean on the side of your face. His hands make quick work of opening his stained work jeans and freeing his stiff cock from his briefs, taking it into one hand and beginning to pump it with languid strokes. He grabs a fistful of hair at the base of your skull with his free hand and taps the leaking head of his length against your cheek, adding to the dampness there from your own saliva.
“This what you want?” Tap tap tap. “You want Daddy’s cock? Hm? This what you been thinkin’ about all day, dirty girl?” He rocks his hips back and forth as he speaks, smearing his arousal along your skin.
You can’t help but squirm as a humiliated heat begins to pool in your tummy.
“Yes, Daddy, please let me have it, wan’ it so bad…” you beg.
He releases your hair and pulls his cock away from your face, making a show of massaging it and taunting you with what he won’t let you have.
“Nah, you ain’t gettin’ any of Daddy’s cock tonight, baby… In fact, I’m gonna stand right here and take care of m’self, and you’re gonna find somethin’ to rub that soakin’ cunt on while I watch…”
As the last of his words leave his lips, he steps one foot forward and nudges it between your thighs, looking at you expectantly. You lower your head to face his steel-toed work boot, covered in dust and dirt from his day at the construction site. Your mind still too deep in the clouds to understand what he’s asking of you, you lift your eyes back up to him for guidance. He juts his chin out in a silent “go on, then”, and you return your confused gaze back to his boot, the toe of which is positioned just in front of your aching heat. Your breath hitches and your eyes go wide as you finally realize: he wants to pleasure himself to the sight of you getting yourself off on his boot.
All at once, it falls into place how he wants the night to unfold. He wants to deny you. Deny you of his touch, his cock, even the privilege of making him feel good yourself… all because you acted out, disobeyed him, tested his limits.
“We understand each other, darlin’?”
“Y-yes, Daddy…” You meet his eyes as you speak, voice coming out a little unsteady. Any confidence you had while you were teasing him this afternoon is long gone, fully submitting to him now and completely at his mercy. He didn’t need to fuck you in order to put you in your place, he knew plenty of other much more degrading ways to rid you of your bratty attitude, to remind you of who you belong to.
You position your cunt over the filthy toe of his boot, the gusset of your lacy panties now completely saturated with your wetness. Your hands planted on either side of his leg, you try an experimental grind onto the leather-covered steel. A bolt of electricity shoots from your swollen clit to your fevered cheeks, burning with the eroticism of being made to humiliate yourself like this. He allows you to wrap your arms around his calf, using his sturdy form as leverage to rub yourself harder and faster against the solid material.
“Look at you, humpin’ my boot like a fuckin’ dog… that’s just what y’ are, ain’t it? Daddy’s lil’ puppy…” he teases, spurring you on with his words and the indecent sounds of his wet fist working along his thick cock.
You let out an involuntary yelp at the new pet name, which he’s quick to catch with a huff through his nose.
“Oh, she likes that, don’t she? Y’ like that, sweetheart, bein’ Daddy’s good girl, his obedient lil’ puppy? Yeah, I know y’ do… I got you trained good, don’t I? Do just about anything I want, won’t you? Got you rubbin’ that slutty pussy on my fuckin’ boot, for Christ’s sake, barely even had to ask… fuckin’ pathetic.”
The degradation makes your stomach swirl with a cocktail of embarrassment and pleasure. Your cunt flutters as you continue your frantic movements, releasing broken whimpers that sound something like uh huh and yes, Daddy. You’re sure that your slick has to be dripping down his boot by now, soaking straight through the leather and pooling onto the hardwood. You wonder if he might punish you for that, too, for making a mess of him and your freshly mopped floors. Just the thought of it has your hips picking up the pace, desperate to reach your high.
Your eyes are shut tightly as you pursue your orgasm, but you can still hear the shallow pumps of Joel’s fist and his stuttering breaths that indicate he’s close to his own release.
“Yeah, grind that sloppy fuckin’ puppy cunt on Daddy’s boot, there ya go… lookin’ like a goddamn bitch in heat… desperate whore… c’mon, puppy, make a fuckin’ mess for me…”
“I’m gonna cum, Daddy, gonna–”
Just as you feel yourself about to crest the wave of your climax, he pulls his foot out from under you and yanks your head back by another fistful of hair.
“Open up, puppy,” he groans as he splashes his hot release all over your face, aiming most of it around your mouth as you cry out from the denial of your own pleasure.
“Look at you, filthy girl… So pretty for Daddy, all covered in me,” he coos as the last few milky drops land on your cheek. Before any of it can start to drip, he scoops it up with his thumb and feeds it to you a bit at a time, and you continue to suck his finger into your eager mouth once again.
When your face is fully cleaned of his spend, he pulls his thumb from between your lips for a final time with a pop, and you stick out your tongue to show him you’ve swallowed everything he’s given you.
“Good girl,” he praises, petting the side of your hair in soothing strokes. “What do you say to Daddy, hm?”
“Th-thank you…” you choke out, still trying to steady your voice.
“And what else?” he asks.
You take a deep breath. “And… I’m sorry, Daddy,” you relent.
“For what, sweet girl?”
This was always your least favorite part, the part you struggled with the most: admitting that you were wrong.
“For being a brat today, for not listening and disrespecting you…” Your posture deflates, wondering if you should continue your confession. You remember one of the ground rules that was laid out when you first entered this dynamic with him, the one about how important communication is, and decide to keep going. “I jus’ feel like you’ve hardly paid any attention to me the past few days…” You start to sniffle as you speak, the overwhelm of it all finally catching up with you.
“Oh…” he breathes sympathetically. “Here, can you stand up, babygirl? C’mon, come sit on Daddy’s lap for a minute.”
He offers you his hands, and you use them to push yourself up onto shaky legs, feeling like a newborn foal. You wrap your arms around his neck and he scoops you up, carrying you bridal-style back to your cozy spot on the couch. He situates you in his lap, wrapping you up in your blanket again, and you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between his shoulder and neck. You inhale through your nose, smiling to yourself and sighing contentedly when your senses are flooded with his natural comforting smell.
“I know I’ve been workin’ some real late nights recently… I’m sorry about that, honey,” he apologizes, rubbing comforting circles around your upper back.
“‘S okay, Daddy, ‘s not your fault,” you say into his skin.
“But I shoulda made more of an effort to give you some lovin’ anyway, I shouldn’t have had to wait for you to brat on me… Look at me, baby.” You lift your head and meet his sincere gaze, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“I’m sorry too, Daddy.”
“I know y’ are, sweet girl, I know…”
You exchange warm smiles, and he curls his pointer finger under your chin to pull your face toward his, placing a delicate kiss to your lips. He settles both of his large hands on either side of your face before breaking the kiss to press your foreheads together. You close your eyes and try to match his breathing, enjoying this moment with him.
After a minute or so, you break the silence. “So… puppy, huh? That’s a new one,” you giggle.
He laughs and releases your face from his hold, meeting your eyes again. “Jus’ wanted to try somethin’ new, I guess…” He snakes a hand under the blanket, thumbing over the damp crotch of your panties. “And judgin’ by this lil’ mess down here, I take it you liked it. Hm, pretty girl?”
Still sensitive from your earlier denial, you let out a high pitched little whine and an involuntary buck of your hips into his hand.
“See? Even sound like a lil’ puppy… Daddy’s good girl. You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”
“Uh huh, yes, Daddy, please…” Your face is buried in his chest as you rut into his hand, squeezing it between your thighs, back to the same place you were just before he pulled his boot out from underneath you.
“Daddy was so mean earlier, wasn’t he? Not lettin’ you cum, punishin’ you for actin’ up… But I think you’ve learned your lesson now, huh puppy? C’mon, sweet girl, let go, soak Daddy’s hand…”
And you do. With his permission, you cry out, muscles spasming and cunt twitching as you finally ride out the climax you’ve been chasing all night. You’re panting by the time you start to come down after what feels like several minutes, exhaustion hitting you hard all at once. When some of your awareness has come back to you, you realize that Joel is gently rocking you back and forth on his lap, petting the back of your head and gently shushing in your ear.
“Shh, shh, you’re alright, babygirl, I gotcha, Daddy’s gotcha… So good for me, baby, my precious girl…”
When your breathing evens out once more, you muster the strength to lift your head from its place against his heart, and he chuckles at the sleepy and sated look on your face as you blink slowly at him.
“My lil’ puppy’s all tuckered out, huh? Let’s get you up to bed, darlin’, Daddy’ll tuck you in.”
He stands up with a groan, cradling you in his muscled arms, and carries you into the bedroom. You’re already drifting off to sleep when he sits you on the bed, carefully stripping you of your ruined underwear and helping you into a clean, sensible pair of cotton undies. He retrieves one of his oversized “Miller Contracting” shirts from his drawer and slips it over your head, helping your weak arms through the sleeves. Brushing your hair away from your face, he places a scruffy kiss to your hairline and helps you lay down onto the cool sheets. He pulls the covers up all the way over your shoulders, the way he knows you like, and smiles to himself when you burrow yourself into the sheets.
He takes a quick shower to rid himself of the grime and grit he collected on his skin during the day, and slips into bed beside you. Another private smile and a small shake of his head when you instinctually turn to face him and snuggle into his warm body, wrapping your arms around the breadth of his upper arm and inhaling the masculine cologne of his body wash.
He reaches across his chest to gently scratch at the top of your head, prompting a dreamy little noise from you. “Just like I said,” he whispers to himself, “a lil’ puppy.”
He wouldn’t have you any other way.
not really sure who to tag for this one, gonna use the same list from my last fic if that's okay!! anyone else please let me know if you'd like to be tagged on my future fics!!
tag list: @beefrobeefcal @gracieispunk @iamasaddie @rebel-held
#my writing#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#daddy!joel miller#joel miller smut
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ROOOOWWWWWWW
REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???
Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.
Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.
I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED
- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷
Freak Like Me - E.M.
thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽
Word count- 1.3K
Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!
-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!
“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.
He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.
You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.
You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.
“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”
You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.
Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.
You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.
He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”
“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.
You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.
tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#southern!eddie#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#stranger things smut#joseph quinn smut#eddie x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female character#eddie smut
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Okay, you still have a spot. Great. I thought they'd be filled so, I didn't send anything lmao. Insomnia has its perks.
This is deeply self-indulgent and I'd love more Hao from you. So, hear me out, Minghao with a breeding kink. I feel like it doesn't get enough attention especially given how much that man gravitates towards babies lol. Like he and Reader visit Cheol's and see him with his new baby and, Hao's like oh, wait a minute. I think this is making me feel some type of way.
— terrified ⟢
minghao has a knack for keeping the things you tell him in mind. from your favorite brand of wine to how the idea of bearing children terrifies you—he remembers all of it. so your husband is in a bit of a crisis when he realizes that this newfound desire to start a family kind of clashes with something you trusted him to respect.
★ FEATURING; minghao x f!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 4.4k words
★ TAGS; idolverse, established relationship, hao trying (and failing) to play it cool about the wanting-to-be-a-father thing, brief discussion abt family planning, this is only a little sad bc hao has overthinkeritis, smut (MINORS DNI!)
★ WARNINGS; mentions of pregnancy and childbirth but nothing too graphic
★ NOTES; i scheduled to post this when it hit exactly 12 midnight in rj's timezone just in time for her birthday :> (pls look away if i got the schedule wrong,,,) i'm not really back yet bcs this is a queued post, but happy birthday, beloved. i love you more than i can say directly, so i decided to just write a fic for you instead! hopefully, i can come back and torment you with every other seventeen member BUT cheol soon :3c
★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, mating press, hao is just really feral in this yk
★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz
★ MINGHAO TAGLIST; @haoxiaoba - @jeonride - @coffeestay - @hyvnae
In the height of his career as an idol, Xu Minghao filmed a certain piece of content where he was asked a normal question to which he responded with a slightly controversial answer.
"How many kids do you want in the future?"
"Oh, It's not me who'll give birth, so I can't be the one to decide."
It's a response that made waves on the Internet during the week the video was first posted—a reaction from both fans and casual netizens alike that Minghao definitely did not anticipate that he would receive when they packed up the set several months prior.
It's pretty much the logical answer, isn't it? Sure, he'd love to have kids someday, but the quantity isn't something he should decide on without his non-existent partner's input.
Minghao learns further down the road, when he finally meets and eventually gets together with you, that the number of children isn't the only thing that a couple should mutually agree on.
"I don't really want to have kids..."
You tell him this during a spontaneous date he deigned to take you out on. He just came back from a tour packed with a long list of stops and even if he should probably catch up on some sleep, he opted to have a picnic with you at the park because of how much he missed you.
Your cheeks are stuffed with a few bites of pie, thoughtfully chewing as you wait for Minghao's response to your sudden confession. If he didn't know you as well as he does, he wouldn't have sensed the waves of anxiety rolling off of you in waves—as if you're waiting for him to get mad at you for simply being honest.
Mingao heaves a quiet sigh before he pulls you into his chest—a tiny squeak caught in your throat after swallowing your food.
"Hey, that doesn't make me love you any less," he murmurs, pressing his lips on top of your head. "I know bearing children can be terrifying and painful, so I completely understand."
For a moment, your brow dips, a soft frown tugging at your lips. "I-It's not that I'm terrified... Okay, maybe a little. But—"
Minghao promptly silences your protests with a firm kiss on your lips—one that you find yourself easily melting into given the time and distance that's separated you until this moment. He smiles against your mouth, glad that you can be honest with him about things like this.
"No buts, if you don't want to have kids, that's alright," he murmurs before pulling away. "Maybe we can just get a dog. You're already close with Mingyu, aren't you?"
That makes you snicker. "You're so mean."
It's a brief exchange that Minghao doesn't really think about again for several years. After all, his career as an idol was at an all-time high. As much as he wants to settle down with you and start the next phase of his life, he's certain that he shouldn't step out of the limelight just yet.
But it doesn't take long for time to catch up with him.
One by one, his brothers are off to fulfill their mandatory service and the group's activities are at a momentary standstill. Those who were left behind go their separate ways for a while—Joshua expanding his solo promotions in the US and Jun taking up more brand sponsorships in China.
Minghao chose to stay in Seoul mostly for your sake, and the fact that this city is the only common ground between him and the rest of the boys. When Vernon and Seungkwan enlisted together, it was around the time that Seungcheol and Jeonghan came back with overgrown buzzcuts, while Joshua landed in Incheon for the first time in two years.
It was also the time when you and Minghao got married.
The event was celebrated among close friends and family with only a brief news article about the marriage of SEVENTEEN's The8 allowed by the company to circulate for a while. They did a good job at keeping things hush hush, and Minghao thinks it's only because it's been more than a decade since his debut that they're being so lenient.
But even if they weren't, nothing would stop Xu Minghao from making you his wife either way.
It takes a few more years for all thirteen of them to get back together again, but when they do, the first thing that Seungcheol does is invite everybody to his daughter's first birthday.
Minghao has met baby Suri a handful of times in the past. Seungcheol's wife visits them at the company from time to time, wheeling Suri's stroller into the practice room as her uncles all fawn over her until she's crying. For some reason, the only people the infant seems to tolerate are Jun and Seokmin.
It's pretty much the same scene during the party. Seokmin and Jun are the only ones allowed within a one-meter radius from Seungcheol's baby girl to prevent an incurable crying episode in the middle of the celebration. Soonyoung was not happy with the fact that he can't personally give Suri the little tiger plush he got for her, but Minghao thinks it's for the best.
But then, as everyone was finishing up with dinner, he saw you walk up to Seungcheol's wife with a familiar sparkle in your eyes. You're staring at Suri who's all dressed up for her party with a look of endearment—nearly gushing with how animatedly you're speaking with her mother.
Minghao doesn't think much of it. You and her have always gotten along for as long as he can remember.
What does catch him completely off-guard, however, is the fact that Suri is being handed into your arms and you let it all happen without much of a fuss.
Chan was in the middle of telling him about this martial arts move that he'd wanted to choreograph into a dance but as much as he wants to give the younger man advice, his gaze is completely glued to the sight of you with Suri in cradled against your chest.
It's one thing to see a woman holding a baby. It's another to see his wife do the same thing.
"Hao, look!" You quickly call him over when you catch his eyes in the crowd. "Suri thinks I'm worthy! It's been five minutes since her mom handed her over and she's still not crying."
The sight is so adorable that Minghao abruptly excuses himself from his conversation with Chan to rush towards you with clipped strides. His heart thunders inside his chest as you visibly dote on Seungcheol's daughter, and he isn't sure if he wants to give the feeling a name.
It eventually fades into a barely there throb in his chest when he drives back home for the evening. You quickly fill the silence with your attempts at looking at some properties in this newly opened residential area near the freeway and as always, your husband lends a willing ear.
"It's a little far from your company building, but it's much more spacious than our apartment right now," you chuckle, face alight with the glow of your screen as you scroll through the property's details on your phone.
Minghao hums before pulling over at a red light. "Hm? Isn't our place alright as it is? Why would we need the extra space?"
He half-expected you to answer with something along the lines of, so I can have more space to keep my book collection in or so you can have enough room to practice at home if you want to.
But all you do is let out an uneasy laugh, locking your phone before depositing it in the cupholder on the middle console.
"Y-Yeah, you're right. That was a bit silly of me."
The next time Minghao unwittingly makes the connection with you and the prospect of having kids is when Seungkwan's nephews are in Seoul for a couple of weeks.
While he and his sister are off to run errands every now and again, they typically ask Jun to watch over the kids because out of all the members, he's definitely the only one who can be trusted around children. Even more than those who are actual fathers.
But it just so happens that Jun is all the way in Shanghai to shoot for a historical drama, and for some reason, Seungkwan thought it would be a good idea to drop his nephews off at Minghao's doorstep.
"You're pretty decent with kids and your wife can take care of anything," Seungkwan praises while he ushers four year-old Hanjun into the room and eight month-old Jiren into your arms. "We'll be back for them after lunch!"
It's just as Seungkwan said though: Minghao is pretty decent with kids and you can take care of anything.
While waiting for lunch to cook in the kitchen, you both do your part in entertaining the children—Minghao pointing out different shapes and animals in the picture book from Hanjun's backpack while you quietly feed Jiren the baby formula that Seungkwan's sister prepared in advance.
So distracted with the sight of your soft gaze transfixed on the baby in your arms, Minghao barely notices it when the soup he's prepared starts to overflow from the pot. You scold him for being so distracted before he shuffles into the kitchen with his tail between his legs.
As he salvages what's left of the soup, Minghao tries to pull himself together. Sure, it's been a few years since you two tied the knot, but you made it clear years ago that children wasn't on the table when it comes to the two of you.
It's something that you both agreed on even before marriage, and Minghao isn't about to break your trust by saying he suddenly wants kids all because seeing them in your arms makes his brain short-circuit. He has more tact than that.
"Is it just me or are you acting a little weird?"
For some reason, you choose later that evening to corner him in the quiet of your bedroom. Minghao was just getting ready to sleep when you turned to face him with a frown.
"Weird how?" he wonders, praying that you wouldn't single him out like you probably will.
"I don't know, you were looking at me funny when I was giving Jiren his formula," you point out. "You only do that when you want something from me."
Your words make him sigh. Of course his wife would catch onto every nuance of his actions—even from his stare alone.
"And what do you think it is that I want?"
"Xu Minghao, we're already married. Cut the games and just tell me what's on your mind."
God, he really couldn't love you any more than he does now.
It takes several minutes, but you and your husband eventually migrate to the living room—cups of hot chocolate in hand as you patiently wait for Minghao to open up about something he's been keeping to himself for a while now.
He's rightfully nervous—hands clammy around the ceramic of the mug that matches yours. It's Game of Thrones-themed with a dragon's neck acting as a handle. You kept insisting at the souvenir shop that its selling point was the unique design, but Minghao was pretty sure you were excited by the fact that the printed text changes color depending on the drink's temperature.
With that memory suddenly drifting into his mind, the tension ebbs from his shoulders. Though he tends to forget, you're the last person who'll condemn him for what he's about to say to you.
"I've been thinking of starting a family with you," he admits—hitting his point straight to the roots. "But... I always brushed it aside because I know how you feel about kids. I don't want to force you into something you don't want."
It's in times like this where silence is more deafening than actual noise. It rings in Minghao's ears as you watch the steam rise from your mug and your husband lets himself stew in his anticipation, wondering how you'll choose to respond to his honesty.
Will you laugh at him? Will you be angry with him? It's a subject that the two of you rarely broach with each other, so he isn't quite sure how to handle whatever reaction you'll grace him with.
What Minghao never would've expected, however, is for you to crack him a relieved smile.
"Me? I thought you didn't want kids because having one would be detrimental to your career," you chuckle, taking the first few sips from your hot chocolate. "And you always kinda shrugged it off whenever I tried to ease the topic into the conversation."
"I did?" Your husband scowls. "When did I do that?"
"After Suri's birthday party? When I was showing you a couple of new houses?"
Oh. Oh.
"Shit," Minghao mutters, embarrassed. "I almost forgot about that. I'm sorry, love. It didn't occur to me because you said that you didn't want to have kids—"
"One time," you interject with a groan. "That was one time, Hao. God, can't a woman change her mind about wanting kids with her husband?"
He blinks. "But you said you'd be terrified."
"No, you said I'd be terrified. As an educated guess and to some extent, you're right. But it's not the having-a-kid part or the childbirth part that terrifies me, Hao." You let yourself breathe for a couple of seconds and it comes out shaky. Minghao has to resist the urge to reach out to embrace you.
"What terrifies me is becoming a mother."
The silence of the living room thickens when you say the words and Minghao feels his chest flutter with that same feeling from the first time he saw you cradling Seungcheol's daughter in your arms. Despite the questions swimming inside his head, your husband keeps his silence and lets you continue.
"Like, yeah, the pregnancy is going to be hell and god knows whether I'll even be alive after giving birth, but..." You hesitate, refusing to meet Minghao's eyes for reasons that elude him.
"Raising a child so they would grow up to become a good person is even more daunting to me... What if I accidentally teach them something wrong? What if they end up hating me because I can't keep up with whatever trends kids would come up with in a few years? What if they love you more than they love me?"
Minghao laughs airily. "Is that last part really a necessary measure?"
"It is," you insist before breathing out a laugh of your own. "Urgh, you get the point! It's just that... I'm not against having kids, but the responsibility that comes with raising one overwhelms me whenever I think about it."
"You know you're not in it alone, right? I'm your husband. Of course I'll be here to support you however I can," Minghao sighs before finishing the rest of his drink. "Whether you want kids or not, I'll go with either choice because I want what you want, yeah?"
"Yeah. I do know that. I think I've always known, but at the same time, I didn't want to tie you down," you murmur, tracing the handle of your mug with a small pout. "If we have a kid together, they might take up the time meant for your schedules. I never want to burden you like that..."
Your husband sets down his mug on the coffee table, carding his fingers through his hair with a disbelieving sigh. You were starting to fear that you might've annoyed him by accident, but when Minghao leans closer so that your eyes are leveled, you realize that is far from the case.
"Baby, our wedding rings are literally tattoos," he reminds you while reaching for your hand—pressing the inked fingers together. "I'm as tied down as I can be and you've never heard a peep out of me after all this time, yeah? So don't you ever think you or our future kids would be burdens to me."
Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Kids? Plural?"
"Hey, like I said—"
"Yeah, yeah, you want what I want," you interrupt with a roll of your eyes. "I get it Hao, you're a gentleman. But what if I told you I want you to fuck me on this couch right now and give me your kids?"
The wording is so crass that it could only be seen as a joke, except the reaction it incites from Minghao is leagues more intense than a mere joke would. The mental image injects a rush of corrosive want straight into his bloodstream and Minghao swears it makes him a little lightheaded.
Your husband lets out a shuddering sigh. quickly lunging after you to pluck the mug out of your grasp and safely place it on top of the coffee table. When you look up at him so prettily as he cages you on the couch, the sight makes his cock twitch with anticipation.
"Then I want that, too."
Logically speaking, you and Minghao can't just flip the switch and go into full babymaking mode after a heartfelt conversation and a bunch of impulsive decisions.
For one, you were still on birth control. It would take some time to wean yourself off it and you'd have to ask your doctor if it was safe to stop taking the pills at this point in your life.
Next was that Minghao and the rest of the guys are going to be preoccupied with their latest album—one where all thirteen men are back together after years of being separated. It'll go on for a couple of months and maybe a year if he's going to take their tour schedules into account.
And because he doesn't want to be absent in any milestone during your hypothesized child's life, you and your husband mutually decided not to actively try for a kid just yet.
But that doesn't mean you can't pretend.
"Fuck, baby, your cunt's gripping me so tight," Minghao groans, nearly hissing as he slides his cock against the velvety heat of your walls. "You want my load in you, pretty? You want to me to pump you full until it's dripping out of your pretty pussy?"
With coherence having long left your mind, you arch your back even higher as your husband continues to plough you into the mattress. "Y-Yes, yes yes! Hao, feels s-so fucking good!"
He chortles quietly and even with your cheek pressed against the sheets, you can still picture the smirk plastered on his face. "Pretty baby's in love with my cock. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"
"More," you whimper, the muscles of your pussy tightening around his length as he plunges in and out of your sopping entrance. "W-Want more, Hao. Need you to fuck me harder..."
Your husband is quick to comply with your wishes, gathering your hair with one hand while keeping your hips in place with the other. Minghao slams his hips brutally against yours, making stars dance in the seams of your vision as the head of his fat cock bullies its way into your leaking hole.
He's so deep, you can feel him prying your cervix open with a promise that you'll be filled to the brim if you behave tonight. And with all those years of being a professional dancer under his belt, it's no surprise that he's got enough stamina to wreck you more times than you can handle.
The first orgasm blindsides you completely. He'd just been whispering both sweet and filthy nothings into your ear when it washes over you like a tidal wave—inevitable, inescapable.
(Doing so fucking good for me, love. Taking my cock like a good, good wife. You'll take my cum just as well, won't you? Keep it inside so it'll take and you'll be swollen with my child. Then everybody will know you're mine.)
The second time it happens is mere seconds after Minghao's own orgasm. His thrusts have started to lose their practiced cadence and even if you've been in this situation countless times before, the euphoria that sings in your veins makes it feel like the first time all over again.
Minghao's cock twitches before his cum spurts in thick ropes inside your tight cunt—filling you with a warm sensation that has you biting down his neck to stifle your moans. The motion of his hips slows to a crawl as Minghao feels you clamp down on his length. Your pussy gushes around him with a delicious grip that brings him dangerously close to another orgasm with how good you feel around him.
"Fuck, baby," he swears, voice still hoarse with need despite the fact that he's fucking you into overflowing. "I love you. There's no one else I'd want to have a family with."
"T-There better not be," you say cheekily before Minghao is flipping you around so that you're lying on your back. The sensation of his cum dripping out of your ruined pussy makes your skin tingle with excitement, and the fact that his ravenous gaze is trained on your body isn't lost on you.
"Be a good wife for me and hold your thighs up," he whispers lowly and it takes you mere seconds to comply. "That's my girl."
You preen at his praise—no matter how pathetic it would make you seem. After all, if there's anyone who get reduced you into a cockdrunk mess, it's most certainly your husband.
Minghao doesn't waste any more time, he pumps his cock into full hardness for a few moments—refractory period be damned—before gliding the head of his cock against your slit. Your thighs twitch every time be brushes against your clit, making you cry out with desperation as he gloats at your misery.
"Minghao," you beg, trying your best to hold your thighs up just like he asked all while he's taking his sweet time admiring your pussy. "Fuck me more. Want you to fill me up even more."
"Needy little thing," he chuckles. "You want my kids that badly? If I fuck you too much, you might actually get pregnant, love."
"Don't care," you practically sob. "I want it. I want you. All of you—even your kids."
Fuck. He really, really fucking loves you.
Minghao needs little encouragement after that, gripping his cock tightly as he guides himself back inside you.
The new position makes it easier for your husband to pound into you—the weight of his thrusts pressing you into the bed with enough intensity to make the wooden enforcements of your bed groan from the effort he's exerting. He splits you open on his cock, spreading your folded thighs as far as he can as he drills inside of you with the promise of another load.
"So pretty and pliant for me," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your nose all while the squelch of your cunt with each pass of his cock echoes in the bedroom. "My perfect wife. You'll let me breed this pussy once all's said and done, won't you?"
You nod all too eagerly. "Yes, Hao! I'll let you use my pussy however you want. Just please make me come again!"
"So demanding," your husband sighs with a wicked smile as one of his hands trails between your legs. "Hold those thighs nice and open for me, love. You'll feel even better soon."
"W-Wait, I—"
Your protests quickly melt into a hiss of pleasure when Minghao applies ample pressure on your clit—lathering his fingers with your slick before tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub.
He knows you so well, been with you for so long, that Minghao already knows the ins and outs of your body. Your husband claims that making you come undone with his own fingers is a practiced art and that he'll never forget about it until the day he does.
So it's no surprise how quickly Minghao manages to make you unravel at the seams when he couples his intense thrusts with the added stimulus to your clit. You're creaming around his cock in no time—muffling your cries in the crook of your lover's neck as he fucks into you with the intention of filling you up even more.
"I love you," Minghao rasps as he tucks your head beneath his chin, pinpointing the height of his own pleasure. "I'll want no one else but you, baby. No one."
Shakily, through a haze of delirium, you manage to say, "I-I love you too, Hao. I'll always be yours as long as—f-fuck—you'll always be mine."
You twitch violently beneath the weight of Minghao's body and the sight of you so fucked dumb on his cock eventually pushes him over the edge. Your husband comes with a sharp breath, his white hot cum gushing into your pussy until it drips onto the sheets.
It's only when you've come down from that post-coital high that you realize Minghao is looking at you as if you hung up all the stars in the sky. You respond with a weak smack against his chest.
"Don't look at me like that," you grumble weakly. "I might think you're in love with me."
"Y/N, we're already married."
"I don't see how that's a problem."
As Minghao does the honors of cleaning you up after roughing you up all evening, you quickly realize that, really, there's no reason to be terrified at all.
Not when your husband will be by your side every step of the way.
⟢ end notes: i wrote this in a haze so if there are any technical writing errors, i implore you to just ignore them for my sake <3 happy birthday again to my soulmate, rj! i hope you enjoy your day to the fullest and i also hope you like this gift i wrote for you hehe ^\\\^ like hao to the reader, i'll always be w you every step of the way (i'm just a lil busy rn, so i hope you forgive me !!)
#seventeen smut#the8 smut#minghao smut#svthub#minghao x reader#seventeen fanfic#the8 x reader#full length fic 📚#lovelyhan#💭 request#💘 mutuals#rj 🍷#q: i always need queue 🐇
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currently thinking about how lando would comfort the reader after he finds her crying on her birthday (totally not self indulgent or bc ive been crying about my birthday and how my mom called me to get upset at me and not to tell me happy birthday or anything)
:( i’m so sorry anon, i hope your day got better! also, happy birthday!! my dms are always open if you need anything!! i hope you enjoy this! ❤️❤️
cleaning out my inbox
you sat on the back deck of the house party, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. you tried to forget what had happened, tried to not let it ruin your special day, but it was all you could think about. a sentence burned into your brain that just so happened to ruin your whole entire mood.
lando had gone around the party asking all your mutual friends where you had slipped off to. he was normally good at keeping an eye on you when you weren’t attached to the hip, but one conversation with alex and george and you had magically disappeared.
“think she’s outside, mate,” ethan said, “said something about getting a call from her mum earlier. haven’t seen her since, so good chance she’s still out there.”
lando sucked in a breath before smiling softly to his friend, “cheers, mate.”
he made his way through the sea of bodies that had somehow managed to pack themselves into max’s home. he reached the back door, heart resuming its normal rhythm as he saw you sitting on the steps. you spun to look at who was behind the door opening, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of your curly haired boyfriend.
“baby, you okay?”
you shook your head as he joined you on the step, digging the heels of your palms into your eye sockets to keep yourself from crying even harder. he felt his heart drop, sinking to the lower step to be face to face with you.
“hey, hey, hey,” he said, pulling your hands from your face, “what’s wrong baby? what happened?”
you shook your head, “she didn’t even tell me happy birthday,” you let out a soft sob, “she just yelled, about anything she could think of.”
he frowned, reaching up and wiping the tears from your face, “i’m sorry, love.”
you were used to it by now, and lando knew how things were with your family. a rocky relationship was an understatement.
"hey," he said softly, "how about we ditch this place and go get some food?"
your eyebrows raised in question, "you mean, like... leave the party?"
he placed his cup down, smiling as he offered you his hands, "only if you want to, we don't have to."
you twisted your lips in thought, knowing that if you went back inside you'd just be putting on a fake smile to all your friends, "can we go to that place with the fancy candles?"
"we can go wherever you want, baby. it's your birthday."
and that was that, you were placing your hands in his. he helped you up from off the step and led you through the backyard, slipping out through the gate and away from the booming music in the house.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#fluff#ln4 x reader#ln4#ln4 imagine#mail time#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader fluff#lando norris fluff#fluff imagine#lando norris fluff imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#mclaren f1#mclaren#formula 1#formula one
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i keep thinking about housewife kink sunday 💭💭💭 but with a plot twist!
reader is THE housewife tm. they fit into the stereotypes so perfectly you wonder if the stereotypes were based off them instead. short (this is self indulgent...), wants kids and husband, cooks and bakes meals that made your toes curl. all of it..
so what would their reaction to sunday kidnapping them (more like putting them under new management) and forcibly breeding them? i feel like the reader would be into it bc of the whole housewife idea, but they'd cry and beg him to stop at the same time. its a double sided coin if you ask me
cw: non-con, yandere, forced pregnancy, housewife kink, kidnapping, HSR 2.1 spoilers (a little bit)
you obviously want to be a housewife, but you are just too shy... Mr. Sunday will help you… 😽💖
"Mr. Sunday! Try these cookies."
You are part of The Family and occasionally help out with activities such as cooking and embroidery (of course. Those woven with a giant weaving machine, but still using your creativity and strength). You take the results to a charity stall and cook for the members. Sunday noticed you at an event. You have given so freely of your time, money, and love to The Family.
Under Xipe's light, you awkwardly admit to Mr. Sunday your desire to be a housewife…to take care of your baby and do housework…
Sunday gives you a chance!
Sunday tells you that you can conceive Halovian babies, adorable babies with wings! His cock swells and expands between your legs. Tie your hands so you can only bounce and cry on him. "Stop- Mr. Sunday- I- I can't- " He noticed, you squirted and twitched at the words "conception," "baby," knowing how much you loved these blueprints for the future, but sobbing and begging for mercy at the same time. The reason is that he took you without your consent.
Sunday kisses your face. He knows you will be a good little housewife and take care of the Family.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#sunday x reader#yandere honkai star rail#honkai star rail x you#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#honkai x reader
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𝒮𝓊𝓃𝓈ℯ𝓉𝓈
This is so self indulgent, i luv Ducati’s <3 soft!Rafe my love. No warnings just tooth rottin fluff (:
Masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Dude, that thing is fucking amazing.” His friend said, admiring Rafe’s new motorcycle.
“I know.” He said, a grin on his face. You stood next to him, already having heard about it all over text and calls and even over your date last night. Ever since he got it he hasn’t stopped talking.
“And it’s a damn ducati. How much did that shit cost?” Topper asked him.
“This baby cost me 50,00.” Rafe replied, looking at it, his hand caressing the seat. You rolled your eyes, Jesus he looked at that thing like he was in love with it.
“We done now?” You asked him, he turned to look at you now, your helmet in your hands.
“In a minute, sweetheart.” He said, turning back to his friends now. “It can go up to… 200 miles per hour.” He tilted his head to the side, remembering it.
“Damn! So it’s 1000cc?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” They continued to talk for a little until you let out a sigh, he knew it was time.
“Well, we should get goin’ now. I’ll see you guys later.” He said, saying goodbye and hopping on the bike. You got on after him. Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, you both putting your helmets on.
He started it, and you both were on the road, tour grip on his waist tightening, your body flush against his.
He decided to take the scenic route, which was actually just past an old trail that no went on , driving past it and the setting sun.
He looked in the back of him and saw no one was behind him, so he slowed down a bit to look with you.
He glanced back at you, watching you flip your visor up to get a clearer view. He had a small smile underneath his helmet.
You looked at him back, noticing his eyes even through the helmet. You gave him a small smile, and he mumbled a ‘fuck it,’ parking on the side. It was an empty road next to an abandoned trail , no one would be here anyways.
He flipped up his visor, now turning his body to look at the sunset, still sat on the bike. You turned around to, putting your head on his shoulder, the bulkiness of your helmet making a raspy laugh escape him.
“I love you.” He mumbled quietly, suddenly feeling the urge to say it.
You turned to him now, your head lifting from his shoulder to look at him. In your many years of being friends and dating, he’s never said it.
A smile made its way onto your face, you grabbed his helmet, your eyes looking into his now.
“I love you.” You said back, he smiled back and you leaned your head back onto his shoulder.
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, you both watching the sun dissapear from behind the trees. You stayed like that for a while, in the comfortable, beautiful silence.
#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fluff#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe x you#rafe cameron x y/n#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine
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IV ║ Notch
Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Part III: Edgestitch | Behind the Seams: Part IV | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E, but not that explicit
Summary: While Ellie works her first shift at the Outfitters, Joel drops by yours to return the blouse you left behind at the baby shower. Turns out, there's plenty around the house to keep him occupied until the teenager clocks off.
Warnings: Sexual tension, body insecurity, some language, inaccurate descriptions of gardening, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, undervest supremacy, flirting, dry humping, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N
Word count: 8.9k
Notes: Once I started writing this chapter in earnest, it came together a bit more quickly than I expected! It's extremely self-indulgent, with plenty of white undervest and belly action because you guys deserve all of that goodness for being the most patient, loving readers a writer could hope for 🥹 Thank you, I love you all! ❤️
Notch – diamond shaped marks that stick out beyond the edge of the pattern to line up all the pieces when sewing the garment. They come in pairs to be matched up.
Joel is sleeping - which is not something that could be said until a couple of months ago.
After the outbreak, sleep as a concept ceased to exist. What took its place is literal ‘shuteye’, either engineered by pills knocked back with moonshine, or a preventative shutdown by his body to avoid total failure, having pushed his physical form to the living limit.
It’s the kind of sleep that is destitute and provides no relief. It keeps the cogs turning just enough that he doesn’t expire, standing in his boots - which, on most days, are not the only things held together by duct tape.
But after the hospital, even that turned out to be too much to ask for. Some nights, the itch for chemical-induced relief got so bad that Joel entertained the thought of asking Tommy for illicit pills, ready to crawl on all fours to his brother’s house two streets down because he was shaking so hard he couldn’t lock his knees. But he didn’t trust him not to tell Maria, and with Ellie in the picture, he wasn’t about to tempt fate.
So instead, he asked Maria to assign him to night patrols. She hmmm’d at his request like she knew something he didn’t, but she humoured him, letting him take the graveyard shift for a couple of weeks straight. She didn’t have to tell him that she could see the way he tripped over his own feet and hear the slur in his voice. She’s too sharp not to notice.
But she didn’t say anything.
What she did do though, was not so subtly wean him off the late-night patrols. It started with a couple of random, last-minute changes, and then the next thing he knew, he was working morning shifts exclusively. When he tried covertly swapping stints with another guy, he showed up at the guard tower at midnight to find his sister-in-law standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her pregnant belly.
As he trudged home begrudgingly with his head down and her stern reprimand in his ears, he couldn’t help a chuckle. Gotta hand it to her.
Banished back to his bed, Joel went back to staring owlishly at the ceiling, watching the moonlight slide across the plaster until he knew all the cracks in it with his eyes closed (metaphorically). He’d listen to Ellie snoring away two doors down and marvel at the fact that she somehow still slept like the dead, even after… all that.
And then, one night, it happened for him too.
Admittedly, he ate a bit too much at Tommy and Maria’s - on top of running the town like a well-oiled machine, she makes a mean chicken fried steak - and Ellie had not so subtly plonked a second helping on his plate without asking. He was lying in bed, steeling himself for another long night, when his eyes drooped. The motion was so alien that it jolted him wide awake, but he couldn’t shake the weight that clung to the seams of his lashes. The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning.
Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks.
It’s nowhere near consistent, and more often than not he wakes up in a cold sweat in the small hours, but in between, he’s sleeping. For once, he’s feeling rested. And it’s a nice fucking break from the relentless exhaustion that he’s convinced is fused into his bones.
He always wakes up earlier than Ellie though. She never stomps down the stairs until he’s already had breakfast, and hers has gone cold.
So on the Saturday morning following the baby shower, with his face plastered into the mattress, body curled around a pillow - old habits die hard - Joel nearly falls out of bed at the banging on his door.
‘Joel! Get the fuck up!’
For one disconcerting moment between sleep and wake, he’s in his bedroom back in Texas. He half expects to look up to see the posters on the wall and the perpetually overflowing laundry basket at the foot of his bed.
Blinking through the urge to close his eyes, the colours fade and he stares blearily at the digital clock on his bedside table.
7:30.
What the fuck? More often than not he has to drag the teenager out of bed by the ankles, kicking and swearing, at 7:50 to get to school at 8:00.
His knees groan as he staggers onto his feet, grabbing yesterday’s jeans from the floor and pulling them on. He finds a passably clean shirt about five deep on a chair, which he shrugs on over his white undervest. With a grunt, he yanks open the door and heads downstairs on bare feet, frowning at unfamiliar sounds coming from the kitchen.
Joel pauses in the doorway, hands on hips. ‘What do you think you’re doin’?’
Deeming his question unworthy of a response, Ellie tosses him a roll of her eyes over her shoulder and resolutely ignores him.
Shuffling closer, he asks, ‘Are you - cookin’?’
Brandishing the spatula at him, she snarls, ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’
He goads her with a smirk. ‘To be honest, it looks like you threw up in the pan.’
Ellie elbows him hard in the stomach. ‘Fuck you, man!’
He grins. There’s nothing like winding her up first thing in the morning. Grabbing the pan, he bins the ruined eggs, scraping off the burnt bits stuck to the bottom. ‘Crack some more eggs, I’ll make ‘em.’
Ten minutes later, in their usual seats at the kitchen table, they tuck into scrambled eggs and buttered toast.
‘Slow down,’ warns Joel as Ellie wolfs down hers. ‘You’re gonna choke.’
‘You hurry up! Can’t be late for my first day,’ she garbles through a mouthful of food.
‘Why can’t you be like this about school?’ he grumbles, then he winces as his teeth catch something crunchy. Picking it out, he gives her a pointed look. ‘Eggshell.’
‘Calcium,’ she shoots back without even looking up, too busy shoving the rest of her breakfast into her mouth, stuffing her cheeks like a chipmunk.
That one word stops Joel in his tracks and hurls him twenty years back in time.
But then Ellie is jumping up and practically throwing her empty plate into the sink, sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor as she dashes out of the kitchen. ‘C’mon, old man!’
Joel smiles, the memory warm like sun on his face.
He shakes his head, slowly finishing his breakfast - like he wishes he did that day.
They turn out to be fifteen minutes early.
To his chagrin, Ellie admits freely that she lied about the time so they wouldn’t be late. He’s a punctual guy, thank you very much. He certainly doesn’t need to be schooled by the little brat.
Joel sits on the stairs, while Ellie has her face squished up against the door, unabashedly leaving smudges on the glass panels as she keeps up an uninterrupted running commentary on every last piece of clothing she can see.
He tunes her out easily, shifting in his seat so that his right ear is to the door. In his hands is the blouse that you left behind at Tommy and Maria’s at the baby shower. He’s been meaning to return it to you, but the week got away from him, and there’s no time like the present.
Considering the state of his knees, he impresses himself with the speed at which he stands at the sound of footsteps on the otherwise quiet main street. Squaring his shoulders, he discreetly pulls on his shirt, suddenly seeing wrinkles everywhere in the fabric, and runs his fingers through his hair, wishing he’d taken another look in the mirror before he left the house -
But it’s Lucy who appears at the bottom of the stairs with her unfailingly sunny smile.
‘Hi, you must be Ellie,’ she chirps.
She eyes Lucy cautiously, lips pinched to one side. ‘Where’s Pin?’
Joel growls. ‘Manners.’
Ellie puts her hands up in surrender. ‘Sorry. I meant - nice to meet you, where’s Pin?’
Lucy beams good-naturedly and fiddles with the lock. ‘She’s off today, and it’s all my fault because I made her work three weekends in a row. You’ll be helping me in the front anyway, so I’ll show you the ropes.’ Stepping aside and swinging the door open, she prompts, ‘In you go now, hon.’
Ellie doesn’t even look back at him, rushing into the shop like a thoroughbred fresh out of the starting gates.
Pocketing the keys, Lucy smiles. ‘Hi Joel.’
‘Hey,’ he nods back. ‘Sorry about Ellie.’
‘Don’t be, I was exactly like her when I was younger. Still am sometimes,’ she jokes. Then with a sly side eye, she remarks, ‘And honestly, you look more disappointed that I showed up than she does.’
He splutters, ‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.’
She smirks knowingly, gesturing at the blouse clutched tightly in his left fist. ‘I can pass that to Pin for ya.’
Joel hesitates for just a second, and Lucy bursts into laughter, elbowing him teasingly. ‘The way your face fell! I’m joking, Miller. Relax.’
He shakes his head. ‘It’s fine, guess I’ll give it to her next time she’s ‘round.’
Just then, from the depths of the shop, Ellie gasps dramatically and yells at the top of her lungs, ‘I want thissssssss one!’
Meeting Lucy’s eyes, Joel asks, ‘Sure you gonna be ok left alone with her?’
She shrugs. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’
He flashes her a thumbs up. ‘I’ll pick her up at three then.’
He’s about to walk away from the Outfitters when Lucy’s voice stops him. ‘Hey, Joel!’
Looking up at the wraparound porch, he raises an eyebrow in a silent question.
‘She lives in the yellow cottage on the same street as the shoe shop. Keep going north, you can’t miss it,’ she says with a two-finger salute and a parting line that he’s heard before. ‘Say hi to Pin for me!’
You’ve always had a soft spot for the turn of the season, when late spring blooms graciously give way to summer buds. The grass smells greener, and the air is pregnant with pollen and nectar. It’s not overly warm yet, but you can feel the intensity in the sunlight, muted only by the early hour. Good thing you’re starting early.
It’s unseasonably warm for June, and the vegetable patch on the far end of your garden has suddenly burst into life. The cauliflower has finally come through after two failed crops in a row, and both the tomato vines and pepper plants are thriving. Closer to the ground, the onion and garlic shoots are patiently waiting to be pulled, and asparagus shoots spear through the earth in tidy lines one after another.
Pulling on a hat and gloves, you get to work.
You’re halfway through the second row of onions when there’s a faint knock on the front door. Even though you’ve only been in the sun for a little while, the coolness inside the house feels like a balm to your skin as you pad inside, peeling off your gloves before reaching for the door.
Swinging it open, you’re stumped by the sight of Joel Miller on your doorstep.
You haven’t seen him since the party, where you’d agreed on a start date and time for Ellie’s first shift, and -
Since the kiss.
You’ve felt his absence keenly. You’ve caught yourself loitering on street corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, knowing you’ll be able to spot him just by the way his shoulders swing with his long strides. You’ve kept an ear out for the southern lilt that has chased goosebumps across your skin, or any mention of his name, but all in vain.
Jackson has a habit of growing in size, usually in direct proportion to one’s desperation.
Now that he’s somehow here, you’re aware you’re gaping at him, so broad that his shoulders are blocking out the daylight. Too many years out of practice to count, you have no idea what the protocol is when you next see the man who literally made your knees buckle with just his lips and nothing else.
‘Mornin’, he finally says with a small smile.
You stammer. ‘H-hello. What, um, I mean, how -’
‘I dropped off Ellie at the shop and Lucy told me where you live,’ he explains, shaking out the blouse in his hands. ‘Thought I’d come ‘round and return this.’
Your palm twitches with the urge to smack yourself on the forehead. Of course that’s why he’s here.
Taking the top from him, you smile back gratefully. ‘Thank you. And of course, it’s Ellie’s first day. I’m sorry I can’t be there, but I’ve been subbing for Lucy on the weekends for a month straight and I needed a break.’
He waves away your apology. ‘Count yourself lucky. She was just ‘bout bouncin’ off the walls.’
‘Bless her heart,’ you chuckle, breaking off when his eyes flicker over you, as if he’s just registered your very minimalist ensemble of a white cotton tank top and denim cut-offs. Your skin prickles under his scrutiny, flattery winning out against self-consciousness at the deliberate drag of his gaze over you, a thoughtful weight behind it.
That is until something catches his attention, and you flinch when he peers under the brim of your hat. ‘What -’
Before you can even articulate your question, he’s taken one step towards you, his work boots heavy on your creaky wooden porch. His voice is low but rough around the edges, just the way you like it.
‘You got some dirt -’ he swipes his index finger firmly on the end of your nose. ‘Right here.’
Your jaw hangs open, then clamps shut, in quick succession, the shell of your ears burning hot at his fleeting touch. Throat suddenly dry, you barely manage to squeak, ‘Thanks.’
One day, you will at least try and keep your cool around this man. But alas, it is not this day.
Rearranging himself, Joel leans on the doorframe with his arms crossed and remarks conversationally, ‘You look outdoorsy this mornin’.’
Flashing the soil-stained gloves at him, you try to keep your voice steady. ‘I’m just doing some gardening out back. The vegetable patch needs harvesting.’
He purses his lips at that. ‘Didn’t peg you as the gardenin’ type.’
You don’t know where the bravado comes from, but you swat him on the arm with the gloves and quip, ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’
‘You got me there,’ he huffs a laugh and gestures towards the back of the house. ‘Anythin’ I can do to help?’
The refusal is on the tip of your tongue. You don’t say yes to a whole lot nowadays, other than when Lucy makes you. But then you hear yourself ask, a challenge in your voice that you didn’t know you had. ‘I don’t know. Are you any good with your hands, Joel Miller?’
At the boldness in your words, which you don’t take back, Joel’s eyebrows reach for his hairline. Biting your lip but standing your ground, you watch him grind his jaw as he considers his response.
‘Why don’t you try me, sweetheart?’
‘Like this?’
‘Wait - slow down.’
A shuffle of hands. ‘How about now?’
‘That’s it. Yes, that’s good. Keep going.’
A raspy grunt. ‘I think I’m almost there.’
‘Yeah, that’s right, don’t stop -’
‘Alright, you ready?’
‘Come on, Joel -’
With one last flick, the knife slices clean through the base of the stalk, and Joel plucks the cauliflower head out of its leafy cradle with a triumphant grin.
‘How’s that for good hands, huh?’ he crows.
‘I’ll get back to you in the fall when we see if the cauliflower grows back,’ you tease.
He huffs, squinting up at you through the sun. ‘You’re hard to please, sweetheart.’
You preen at the playful turn of the conversation. If you were a little braver, you’d give him a mischievous wink - but for now, you gesture at the patch. ‘Can you handle the rest? I’ll get started on the peppers.’
He nods. ‘Leave ‘em with me.’
The pepper plants are having a great season, standing at four feet tall and heaving with fruits. You’ve left them alone on the vine for the last three weeks to sweeten, and they have dutifully ripened into a beautiful red. Settling onto your knees, you methodologically comb through the peppers from top to bottom, cutting off each one by the stalks.
It’s a big harvest, half of which you plan on giving away to your neighbours in exchange for their berries and lemons. Some you will cook. Lucy is due to come over for dinner, and she loves your stuffed pepper recipe. The rest you’ll have to find time to roast, skin, deseed and preserve in oil, which will last the rest of the year -
A shadow falls over you, stilling your hands and drawing your eyes upwards.
The sight is familiar - feet planted shoulder-wide by your knees, chin tucked in as he stares down at you, your nose level with the front of the jeans that you picked out for him - you’ve seen it all before, except for one small detail.
Joel is sweating. A lot.
His thin plaid shirt - you’re not sure if you’ve seen him in anything else yet - is sticking to him like a second skin, clinging to the solid outline of his biceps as he holds onto the basket full of cauliflower heads. The sunlight glances off the perspiration dotting his hairline, and the wispy grays that normally curl away from his face have wilted in the humidity.
There’s a flush under his skin as he swipes at his forehead with his shirt sleeve, and your gaze follows a bead of sweat dripping down the prominent vein on the side of his neck, and into the deep V of his shirt - wait, is that the outline of an undervest that you can just make out underneath -
‘Should I take the cauliflower in?’
‘Um -’ you stammer to a halt, eyes still plastered to the front of his chest, just like his shirt.
He clearly mistakes your gawking for something else, flashing you an apologetic smile at his state. ‘Sorry, I work up a sweat real easy.’
Oh, come on. Now all you’re thinking about is how else he works up a sweat -
Seized by the sudden need to get out of the heat in more than one sense of the word, you rip the basket from his grasp and turn on your heels to sprint into the house with a choked, ‘I’ll be right back!’
You nearly trip over your own feet running into the kitchen, your heart thumping so loudly in its ribcage it feels like the whole house is shaking to the beat.
And all that man has done is sweat in front of you.
‘Pull yourself together, Pin,’ you mutter to yourself as you tip the cauliflower heads onto the kitchen table. Grabbing a jug from the cupboard, you put it in the sink and turn on the faucet. Watching the trickle of water, you make yourself take three deep breaths.
Joel’s kind enough to do you a favour, you could at least have the courtesy to not perv on him while he helps you out.
Nodding determinedly to yourself, you pluck two glasses from the drying rack, putting them inside the empty basket that you hook on your elbow, and march back outside -
Only to almost swallow your tongue and drop the full jug of water right at your feet.
Joel’s sweat-soaked shirt is now hanging on your washing line like a white flag, having surrendered to the heat. And just like that, the very image that has been inconveniently seared into the back of your eyes since the party is suddenly before you in all its glory, in the morning sun, out in the open air.
The white undervest stretches over the breadth of him, and if he didn’t look so good in it, you would’ve laughed at the comical way the flimsy straps are clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. Then he bends over to inspect the tomato vines, the bottom of his vest riding up with the movement, teasing a flash of skin above the waistline of the jeans pulled tight over his behind. One big hand reaches out, the outline of his arm flexing as he does, and he palms the bottom of one tomato, testing if it’s ripe for the picking.
Except in your head, it’s something else he’s cupping with such rapturous attention.
He doesn’t notice you until he stands up with a low grunt of effort. Pointing an apologetic finger at his shirt, he says, ‘I hope you don’t mind, I’m sweatin’ right through it like nobody’s business.’
You make a noise in your throat that you pass off as an answer, and with shaky hands, pour him a full glass of water which you shove in his direction.
‘Appreciate it, sweetheart.’ He salutes you and takes a long drag, tipping his head back. You watch, transfixed, as the sunlight bounces off the lines of sweat criss-crossing down the strong column of his neck, and the hard bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.
Suddenly, you’re parched. But you don’t trust yourself to stay upright, let alone pour yourself a drink.
‘It’s hot today,’ Joel breaks the loaded silence, though it’s possible that it’s unilaterally so on your side.
‘Uh-huh,’ you croak, still holding onto the water jug like a shield.
He peers at you with a touch of mischief. ‘You ain’t gonna swoon or anythin’ are you?’
Probably. And definitely not for the reason he has in mind.
You attempt a weak smile that may have come off as a grimace. ‘I’ll try not to.’
Reassured, he nods towards the garlic patch. ‘C’mon. Let’s get our hands dirty, sweetheart.’
By the time the vegetable patch has been thoroughly picked and the baskets crammed full, the sun is high in the sky, the morning clouds burned off with the heat.
Joel isn’t the only one who’s sweating through his clothes - your light cotton top is now clinging uncomfortably to your skin, sweat dripping down your sternum and dampening the cups of your bra. You heave a sigh of relief when he helps you move the haul to a shaded corner near the porch where you have an outdoor sink and wheel hose installed.
Emptying the root vegetables into the sink, Joel steps back and casts a critical eye over the rain gutters that line the eaves of your house. Fingers spread over one jutting hip, he leans his weight on his right leg, the stance creating all kinds of angles that are completely unnecessary in this kind of heat.
He points at the leaves and branches that are clearly sticking out from the channels, but you’re only really interested in studying his large hands. The bumps and veins on the back of them, the watch with the broken face on his left wrist, the dirt coating his thick fingers, pushed under tidily trimmed nails. The logical thought that follows is how he would leave dark streaks on your white top when he pulls you in by the waist -
‘Looks like the gutters need cleanin’,’ Joel declares.
Well, the gutter your head is currently dunked in can certainly do with a good scrub.
‘Rainy season doesn’t start for another few months, they can wait.’
He uh-uh's sternly. ‘I’ve heard that before. Do you have a ladder?’
‘You really don’t have to -’ you protest, but he won’t hear it.
‘It’s no big deal, I’m sweaty anyway,’ he replies. ‘Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour keepin’ me occupied. I don’t pick Ellie up till three.’
You bite your lip. ‘But I feel bad working you so hard.’
Without skipping a beat, he winks. ‘Don’t worry your pretty head, sweetheart - I like workin’ for it.’
Jesus Christ. This man needs to be locked up and the key thrown to a colony of clickers.
The inner contractor in Joel comes out to play as he climbs deftly up the extension ladder propped up against the eaves, gloves on and a tarp bag tied to the top rung for collecting the debris. Discreetly, you shuffle around the freestanding sink so that you have a clear view of him as you turn on the water and start washing the dirt off the onions.
He’s starting close by, just a couple of feet away from you, patiently scooping out the dead leaves and twigs by the handful. Up on the ladder with his side to you, you’re eye level with the swell of his belly, which stretches the seams of the vest, and the underside of it peeks out every time he reaches up for the gutters. Your cheeks warm with the memory of how the soft folds felt against you, so warm and solid that you ache to reach out, push the flimsy vest up and nuzzle the tender skin with your nose -
It takes you a couple of minutes to realise that you’re not even pretending to be washing the onions anymore, the hose running in your idle grasp as you stare, head cocked to one side.
You don’t hear him when he turns to you. ‘Can pass me the hose?’
You stare dumbly back at him. ‘Huh?’
‘The hose, Pin,’ he repeats, a playful condescension in his smirk, like he knows exactly what you’ve been looking at. ‘That onion looks sparkly clean.’
You’re not sure what happened. One second you’re holding onto the hose with the intention of turning off the water before passing it to Joel, but your brain skips that crucial first step, and the next thing you know, you’re pointing it straight at him, spraying him in water from face to chest.
As he splutters, you shove the hose into the sink and screech, mortified. ‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry!’
You watch in horror as the water trickles from his hair, down his stubbled chin and onto his chest - okay, that’s a lie. It’s definitely not horror that’s twisting in your tummy and then much, much lower between your thighs.
And if you thought this man looked good sweaty, well - you’ve seen nothing yet.
He might as well put you out of your misery and take off his undervest right about now. It’s completely see-through, pebbled nipples and the firm ridges of his pecs showing through the wet fabric, rounded out by the endearing soft pouch of his belly.
He wears the early summer tan so well, and for the first time since the outbreak, you think about the swim club in your old neighbourhood. Watching the water drip off his skin, it’s not a stretch to imagine this man pulling himself out of the pool after a quick dip to cool down, before stretching out on a sunlounger to dry in the sun - all in slow motion, set to the track of a corny sax riff.
‘I’m sorry,’ you say on reflex, but the apology rings hollow with the way your gaze lingers over his chest, and he notices.
He chuckles, carding one hand through his wet hair to slick it back, standing taller under your eyes. ‘As I said - never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’
Joel takes his time, clearing out all the blockages and hosing the gutters clean so that you don’t have to worry about them for another six months. He dumps the leaves and sticks in the compost post, rinses the soiled gloves and his hands clean, before taking his shirt off the washing line and heading into the blessed shade.
He finds you in the kitchen, back to the door, putting away clean plates and cutlery from the drying rack, porcelain knocking together and metal clanging.
This is the most he’s seen of you, in a tank top and shorts, bathed in light spilling in from the large windows that open out into the backyard. He sees touches of your workshop right here in the kitchen - dried herbs and seasoning in mismatched but tidy boxes on the shelves, knives organised by size on a magnetic knife block, plates and bowls arranged in neat stacks behind glass cabinets.
Not wanting to alarm you, he deliberately scrapes his shoe on the tiled floor to make his presence known.
Whipping around - and just a touch startled - you smile with a quiet hey, and Joel’s not sure if he’ll ever get over how the sweet shyness still clings to the curve of your lips despite the fact that he’s kissed you right there.
He stays by the door for now and says, ‘I put the ladder back, and the gutters are all done, but I spotted some shingles missing on the roof while I was up there. I’ll come back to fix ‘em some other time.’
‘Thank you so much Joel, but really, don’t worry about the roof. You’ve done enough.’
‘You basically got Ellie outta my hair every Saturday for the next few months, so I’ll have plenty of time to kill,’ he half-jokes.
A comfortable lull sets in, and he looks up at the ticking clock, surprised that it’s almost noon. Shifting his feet, he opens his mouth and is about to excuse himself when you blurt out, ‘I’m sorry I soaked you.’
The jury's out on who's more taken aback by your phrasing. Exasperated, you groan, ‘I did not mean to say that.’
Joel’s kept a respectful distance since he arrived at the house, the pliant weight of you in his arms and your taste on his tongue kept firmly at bay in the back of his mind, not wanting to bring up anything that would make you uncomfortable in the light of day. But now, he pushes himself off the threshold of the door and crosses the cosy kitchen, pleased that you stay put when he plants himself in front of you, toe to toe.
Brushing a finger under your chin so that you’re staring up at him, he deliberately pitches his voice low and gruff, the double entendre almost crude in its delivery. ‘Just so we’re clear, you can soak me any time, sweetheart, in any way you want.’
Your lips part and your gaze darkens, and he feels his body instinctively react, invisible threads reeling him bodily into you. When you speak, your voice quivers, his name at once a single-worded reprimand and a needy whine that takes him right back to his brother’s spare bedroom. ‘Joel -’
‘Yes, Pin?’ he baits you playfully, just like he did that night, taking one last step so that you’re crowded against the countertop, bookending you with his palms planted on the wooden surface.
Finally shedding that last bit of shyness holding you back, you retort with no real bite, ‘You’re such a tease, Miller.’
‘Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it,’ he quips easily, his attention on your mouth. He hears your shaky intake of air, the whole moment suspended on tenterhooks as you skirt each other on the brink -
Just then, a breeze drifts in from the open window above the sink, providing instant relief from the humidity that hangs heavy in the air. All of a sudden, he’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s sweaty all over, so much so that he might actually smell.
Self-conscious, he clears his throat and murmurs ‘I should probably go, I need a shower and a change of clothes -’
‘You can shower here,’ you interrupt, stumbling over your words in your haste. ‘I have a spare shirt somewhere.’
You don’t need to ask him twice.
He smiles. ‘Sounds good, sweetheart.’
Your ensuite bathroom, like what he has seen of your house, is clean and organised. There’s a neat stockpile of soap bars in the cupboard, and he spots the familiar bottles of regulation shampoo and toothpaste that the town mass produces.
The water is plenty hot as he efficiently lathers himself top to bottom and front to back, but the pressure is a bit weak for his liking and can be easily fixed. Something else to add to the list.
The towel you left on the rack is soft and smells like the sun. Patting himself dry and rubbing it through his hair, he wipes away the condensation off the mirror above the sink. He peers at his reflection, ruminating that it’s time for a shave, and pushes back his wet hair so the strands don’t get in his eyes.
Out of his clothes, only his jeans are passably dry, so he forgoes his boxers and pulls them on, carefully doing up the zipper. Using his shirt as a sling, he bundles up all the dirty clothes and opens the bathroom door.
He catches you coming into the bedroom as he steps out, and your jaw drops at the sight of him in just his jeans before you slap your palms dramatically over your eyes, the tshirt you’re holding onto covering your whole face and muffling your voice. ‘I’m so sorry! I should’ve knocked!’
Joel chuckles at your reaction. ‘Sweetheart, it's your house. And I’m not exactly naked.’
Lowering your hands sheepishly, you still clutch the tshirt to your chest like a security blanket, admitting, ‘Sorry, I just - I just realised I’ve never had a man in here before.’
Something wraps itself around his stomach and pulls, and it takes him a beat to put a name to it because it’s been so long. It’s possessiveness that rushes through his veins and goes straight to his head, and he has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep his voice from wavering. He demands, ‘Never?’
‘Never.’
He lets the word wash over him, appeasing the beast in him for now. With a slow nod, he takes three measured steps towards you, stopping just an arm’s length away. Gently coaxing you to let go of the purple tshirt, he snorts at the huge Lakers logo blazoned across the front.
He quips, ‘I’m more of a Longhorns fan myself, actually.’
The tension cracks, and you grin back, ‘Well, not anymore.’
After your confession, it’s probably redundant, but he wants to hear you say it. Flashing the tshirt at you, he asks, ‘Old boyfriend’s?’
It’s the most personal question that’s been exchanged between you so far by a mile, and it’s probably none of his business, but you can’t explain why your pulse spikes at the way his normally warm gaze hardens with something unfamiliar.
‘No,’ you answer. ‘I keep some of the stock here when there’s not enough room at the shop, that’s all.’
Joel rasps, ‘Good.’
With that one syllable, his shoulders visibly relax, suddenly drawing your attention to his topless form, which you’ve been too mortified to actually look at. It’s a lot to take in, and even though you’ve seen most of him already, there is one conspicuous part that you haven’t yet -
But before your eyes can trail that low, Joel turns. ‘Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll just -’
You’re slow to catch onto why he trails off in the middle of the sentence, still far too distracted by his general state of undress to notice until he’s already made his way to the top of your neatly made bed. And then you see it…
The flannel peeking out from underneath the duvet.
Oh. Fuck.
With an almost flippant flick of his wrist, Joel peels back the corner of the bedspread. Wordlessly, he stares down at the red plaid shirt he lent you at the baby shower, tucked snugly in your bed, buried half under your pillow.
He stares at it for so long that you interrupt the silence for once.
‘I’ve been meaning to return it,’ you squeak, hands flailing awkwardly, desperately wanting something to hold onto. ‘I just - forgot.’
Joel half-turns to you, arching an eyebrow. ‘You’ve been keepin’ it in your bed?’
Backed into a corner - and you’re not proud of it - you lie. Outrageously. ‘I don’t know how it got in there.'
He picks up the shirt by the collar. It’s wrinkled all over and obviously worn in. He smirks, ‘I’m not so sure about that.’
You’re this close to swivelling around and making a break for it, but as soon as your axis of balance tilts backwards, Joel grabs you by the wrist and pulls you in, hauling you firmly into his bare chest.
‘You’ve been wearin’ it to sleep, haven’t you?’ he asks in a tone that brooks no argument.
Your fingers curl into his chest, his skin blazing warm under your palms. There’s no point fibbing anymore, and you admit, ‘Yes.’
His voice is hoarse when he asks, ‘You wear anythin’ underneath it, sweetheart?’
You hold your breath for one long moment, the tension in the room swelling so quickly that your ears pop. Eventually, under his patient yet heated stare, you shake your head, lips sealed.
His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, and you feel his grip on your hips tighten.
‘No bra?’ he prompts.
‘No bra,’ you parrot back.
His jaw clenches so tightly that you’re surprised he manages to articulate his next question. ‘No panties?’
‘No panties -’
You barely get the word out before Joel is kissing you, pushing the syllables right back into your mouth until you swallow them with a whimper.
And then he’s pulling back, growling against yours, ‘And what do you do naked in my shirt, hmm?’
You stutter, ‘I - I think about you -’
An undignified squeal escapes you when he suddenly spins you around, your back hitting the bed, denying you the chance to catch your breath. The ceiling fan turns directly above you, but it does nothing to quell the heat between your bodies as Joel clambers over you on his hands and knees, sliding his mouth over yours again in a hard kiss.
You always thought your bed was a decent size, but now, with the bulk of this man hovering over you, you’re not so sure anymore. His ridiculously wide shoulders fill your entire field of vision, and even though he’s holding himself up with his forearms by your ears, you can almost feel the full weight of him through sheer anticipation of his touch.
His heated words brush by your ear, making you shudder. ‘Tell me what you think about, sweetheart.’
‘Your arms, your shoulders -’ you hesitate, dropping your voice shyly. ‘Your belly.’
Joel looks taken aback. ‘My belly?’
You duck your head almost guiltily. ‘Yes.’
His brows draw together in an endearingly confused frown. ‘Why?’
‘That time in the workshop, when we met, you were sucking it in so hard you could hardly breathe - but you don’t anymore.’
The dots connect, and his lips part in an oh. ‘I didn’t even realise.’
‘I know. That’s why it’s sexy,’ you point out.
He looks at you incredulously, as if you’ve lost your mind. ‘My belly is sexy?’
You grin. ‘Yes, and your confidence. You walk differently now, you know.’
He makes a noise at the back of his throat, a self-satisfied smirk tilting his lips upwards. ‘You been watchin’ me?’
‘Maybe,’ you tease.
You exhale long and heavy through your nose when he sucks delicately on your bottom lip, opening you up so that he can dip inside, stealing a taste of your tongue with his.
‘Been thinkin’ about you all week, sweetheart,’ he whispers, trailing fire across your cheek and the hollow behind your ear.
‘I haven’t seen you around at all,’ you whine, tipping your head back as he nudges the tip of his proud nose down your throat.
‘I know, it took three fuckin’ days to clean up after the party,’ he complains, his disgruntled tone prompting a giggle from you. ‘Never again.’
‘I’m not so sure about that. There will be plenty of birthday parties to look forward to, Uncle Joel -’
An open-mouthed kiss on the side of your neck catches you off guard, the unfamiliar texture of the wet suction and scrape of his teeth jolts you clean off the mattress, sending you body slamming into his ribcage.
Joel hums, pleased at your reaction. ‘So sensitive. I’ve barely touched you yet, sweetheart.’
It’s immediate, the shame that burns under your skin at his remark despite knowing he doesn’t mean anything by it, and Joel frowns at the way you stiffen under him. Regret colours his words as he cups your cheek. ‘Pin, I’m sorry, that came out wrong -’
‘No, that’s the thing. You’re not wrong,’ you interrupt with a shake of your head. There’s no point denying it - you’re a grown woman, and there’s something fundamentally embarrassing about losing touch with that part of yourself over the years. ‘I - it’s been so long, I don’t even know my own body anymore.’
His eyes dip downwards and slowly, over the curve of your breasts and the arch of your back. With an encouraging smile, he argues, ‘I’m not sure about that. Looks like your body’s reactin’ perfectly to me.’
Your lips twitch despite yourself. ‘You’re just saying that to get into my pants.’
He takes the unexpected turn in the conversation in stride and runs with it. ‘Trust me, sweetheart, if I were tryin’, I’d already be in them.’
‘You’re such an ass, Joel Miller.’
His roguish grin has you squirming and fisting the sheets underneath you. ‘I dunno. Somethin’ tells me you like it.’
Wrapping one palm on the back of his neck, you drag him into you again, relishing in the weight of him as he pins you to the bed with the broad frame of his shoulders. He moans into your mouth, claiming it with deep strokes of his tongue, while his calloused palms sneak under the hem of your shirt and pull you into him by the small of your back.
Even as your hips buck, begging for friction, Joel holds back, propping himself up on his knees to keep a tenuous grip on his self-control. Pulling back from your lips with a wet pop, he assures you through heavy breaths, ‘We can stop any time, sweetheart. Just say the word.’
Your response comes fast and sure, but he can read the hesitance between the lines, ‘I - I don’t want to stop.’
He presses a patient kiss to your lips, but backs away before you can deepen it. ‘How about this - we’ll flip you over so that you’re on top, and you decide what you want to do. Is that ok?’
You pause to consider his proposal, sliding your tongue over your bottom lip - he’s this close to kissing you right there and then. You ask shyly, ‘And it’s ok if we - you know, just make out?’
He smiles. ‘I can do with some good old-fashioned neckin’.’
‘Ok then -’
You yelp when Joel turns you over without warning, the sudden movement making your head spin. Sitting up against the headboard, he drags you in his lap and asks, ‘Alright?’
You nod with a nervous smile. It’s intimidating, being so close to him that there’s nowhere else to look but into his thoughtful eyes that are watching you for any signs of discomfort. Catching your breath, you settle into the moment and realise that you’re straddling him, hands clinging onto his shoulders, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. His belly is warm and soft where he’s pressed up against you, but lower, nudging insistently between your legs -
Joel is hard.
The revelation robs you of air, want and need rushing like blood to your head, and you stiffen, not knowing what to do.
Joel catches on - you’re beginning to think that nothing ever escapes him - and he reminds you, ‘Just kissin’, ok, sweetheart?’
Snapping out of your freeze frame, you nod, ‘Yes. Ok.’
Giving you somewhere to start, he prompts, ‘Where do you want my hands?’
Tugging on his wrists, you watch his jaw go slack when you place his palms squarely on your ass, where your denim shorts hardly cover the top of your thighs. He lets out a lewd moan at the way your soft curves fill his hands, fingers squeezing and kneading greedily, and you push your hips back into his contact.
‘Not so shy after all, hmm?’ he rasps.
You preen at his praise, and riding the wave of boldness, you tip forward and press your lips to Joel’s before you could overthink it. Over the roar of blood in your ears, you hear him suck in a shaky breath, and you feel the deep groan in his throat taper into a whimper when you swipe your tongue into his mouth.
You’re completely unprepared for the power the sound unleashes in you.
Somewhere in your consciousness, a door is cracked open, and memory crackles at the edges of your mind. Each shuddered breath shared, every slide of skin on skin, brings to the surface what you thought you’d forgotten.
Your fingers burrow into the still wet locks at his nape, earning a loud moan from Joel when you pull on the grays that have distracted you on more than one occasion. He nips his way sloppily down your neck, trailing spit and beard burn as he goes, while your palms skate over his chest and down, down, down until your fingernails drag over the pliant folds of his tummy, hanging over the waistband of his jeans.
‘Sweetheart,’ he groans brokenly at the contact, forehead knocking into yours.
Spreading your fingers over soft flesh, you choke on an inhale when he bodily rocks into your palms. Your thumb catches the hollow of his belly button, fingers tenderly squeezing the creases and dimples of his belly. His eyes crack open under tightly knitted eyebrows, vulnerability etched in every line on his face.
Something shifts - something that neither of you can take back. And suddenly, it’s not just kissing anymore.
Caught somewhere between writhing instinctively under his touch and a deliberate pursuit of friction, your hips find a rhythm that has the seat of your panties quickly twisting and dampening as you grind on the erection straining against the zipper of his jeans.
Blunt nails bite into your thighs as Joel growls, ‘Shit, sweetheart. That’s it.’
You want to bury your face in his neck, feeling too wanton in the way you’re panting in needy whimpers, but he preempts that on no uncertain terms. ‘I want to see everythin’. Look at me.’
You do just that - you can’t deny this man even if you tried - watching him watch you with his pupils blown wide and wild, wetting his bottom lip the same time his eyes drop to your tits, as if he can see right through the thin fabric. He doesn’t touch you anywhere else though, his hands staying where you put them. You can feel his grip dig harder and harder into the swell of your ass, but he doesn’t try to change your rhythm, giving you free rein to ride him any way you need.
When your peripheral vision starts to go, you know it’s not a coincidence that your thoroughly soaked panties shift and strain against your clit, pinching it just so that you cry out, hips faltering.
Joel bares his teeth, and you feel his hips rut upwards into you, his restraint slipping. ‘There you go. You’re close, aren’t you?’
You can only nod, frantically grinding into him now, your whole mind narrowing until the only thought that remains is chasing that high that you can almost taste. Everything swells, electricity fills the air, his name a sacred chant on your tongue as you claw at his back, teetering precariously on the brink of something that promises to devastate you.
‘Joel, Joel, Joel -’
He catches you when you break - you fling yourself at him, knocking into him so hard that the back of his head hits the wall, but he doesn’t even flinch. Tucked safely into the crook of his neck, you whine and wail as you thrash in his hold, and his nostrils flare at your scent. He can smell you, he can smell the slick leaking from your pussy, humid and heady in the air between you, making his mouth water as he aches to taste you - all of you.
One day.
Right now, the hinge of his jaw almost cracks as you milk the last remnants of your orgasm with a needy swivel of your hips, rubbing against his cock at an angle that makes his vision swim, and he knows he’s too far gone. His control slips like shifting sands, and a primal instinct takes over as he bucks roughly into you, fingertips leaving imprints in your skin that you will feel for days after.
‘Oh fuck, sweetheart, wait, I’m - shit, I’m gonna -’
When it hits him, it’s fucking relentless - he cums and cums until his voice goes hoarse with your name, until it feels like his abdomen would cave in and collapse, spurting and spilling until it feels like he’s turned inside out. It goes everywhere, thick, milky strands filling the gaps in his jeans and sliding down his legs in a sticky mess, and he slumps bonelessly into the headboard, panting against your lips as he catches his breath.
Sweetly, gently, he tilts his chin up just enough to kiss you, his nose nudging your cheek intimately when he pulls away, his lungs too deprived of air to keep going. He winces when you shift above him, knowing that you can feel the wet spot pooling under your bare thighs.
Joel breaks the sluggish silence first, cracking a grin. ‘So much for just makin’ out.’
You clumsily climb off his lap and crash land sideways onto the mattress. ‘Is that a complaint, Joel Miller?’
He drapes a heavy arm over you and pulls back you flush into him. ‘Well, these jeans are fuckin’ ruined. I want a refund.’
‘I’m afraid we don’t accept cum-stained returns. Store policy.’
He pffts. ‘Damnit. Should’ve read the fine print.’
You grin. ‘Well, at least there's something deeply poetic about cumming in the jeans that I picked out for you.’
‘Touché, sweetheart,’ he grunts and presses a kiss to your forehead. Glancing down at the unmistakable wet patch on the denim, he asks hopefully, ‘Any chance you got some pants I can borrow?’
Ellie bounces her leg irritably, hunched over on the stairs exactly where Joel was sitting this morning. Where the fuck is he? He’s twenty minutes late, and he had the nerve to get all huffy when she lied about the start time today. Unbelievable.
Moodily looking left and right, there’s still no sign of him. She’s about to give up and wait for him at home when something conspicuously purple comes to a stop in front of her.
Her jaw hits the floor.
‘Oh. My. God.’
She’s never been high before, but she’s pretty sure this is the stuff hallucinations are made of.
This being Joel Miller in a purple tshirt with a tacky logo she doesn’t recognise printed on the front and khaki cargo shorts that cut off at the knees, holding a basket of vegetables that she’s pretty sure he doesn’t eat.
With a roll of his eyes, he snaps, ‘Shut your mouth, you’re trappin’ flies.’
Pasting on the most obnoxious grin she can muster, Ellie croons, ‘Man, don’t you look pretty.’
Turning on his heel, Joel starts walking without looking back. ‘Shut up.’
Jogging to keep up, she cackles, ‘Hey, did you fall into a wormhole and went shopping at a farmer’s market in 1999?’
‘Shut up.’
‘You really should wear shorts more often, y’know, show off those knees. And purple really is your colour, Barney!’
Joel frowns, shooting her a sidelong glare. ‘How the hell do you know who Barney is?’
Ellie shrugs. ‘What do you think they teach us at school?’
He’s the one who starts it. The quake in his shoulders would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but nowadays, there’s not much that he can hide from her. As usual, she giggles first, which trails into a squeal when Joel gives her a shove on the back, sending her stumbling over her shoes.
‘Fuck you, man!’ she snickers and basically rugby tackles him, but he barely budges, lips pulling back into a toothy grin.
Across the street, unbeknownst to the pair, Tommy smiles to himself as he watches his big brother laugh, really laugh - the kind that has him doubling over and gasping for air through watery eyes. For the first time since the world ended, he looks up at the sky with a reassuring nod, and he knows deep down - Joel will be just fine.
Notes: You guys continue to blow me away with your support - I cannot be more grateful for all the reblogs, asks and interaction with my silly Behind the Seams posts and random updates. Thank you so so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what you think ❤️
I will be having a think over the next few weeks about where Seams will go from here. This chapter wraps up the first mini story arc, and I'll be dedicating August to wrapping up my Palomino series, so it will give me some time and distance to mull over what's next for Joel and Pin. I'm also a few followers away from a big milestone, so I might have something fun planned! 🥰
#fuckyeahseams#seams iv#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine
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prickled flesh | k. bakugo
synopsis: Your older brother uses his favoritism to his advantage, this time he unknowingly took it too far when he was able to invite his best friend Katsuki on your family vacation serving you on a platter to him.
wc: 5.8k
tags: kinktober fic + 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + all characters are over the age of 21 + repost + modern verse (no quirks au) + brother's best friend trope + teasing + age gap + pet names + height difference between you two + fingering + unprotected sex + creampie + Katsuki is condescending + very very self-indulgent + huge shoutout to @x-reader-bitch for beta reading this and feedback + reblogs & comments are super appreciated!
Before summer ended, taking its warm days and blue skies with it, your mom and stepdad always planned a trip to a cabin they rented for a whole week for the whole family to spend quality time together before going back to your own lives.
Your parents always claimed it was a way to bond before you and your older step-brother left to go back to college, it was a chore if you had to be quite honest lugging all your bags back and forth but this year was a little different, something you didn’t enjoy.
It was Eijiro who convinced them to have a guest this time, breaking that one rule for their golden child, your older stepbrother. Although he is not even your mother's biological son, he still managed to worm his way to the top because he is the eldest and therefore the favorite.
Even though you were the baby of the family it still didn’t matter, all he had to do was beam a smile and tell them that his guest wouldn’t cause any trouble making it hook line, and sinker, so naturally he won and invited Katsuki to the cabin your parents rented.
The blonde man put a rage inside your veins every time he was in close contact, the cocky sneer that graced his dumb handsome face drove you insane and he knew it as well by the way your lip curled when he was near or the way the vein in your visibly pulsed hot and heavy.
Since he was Eijiro's friend that meant he was older as well, only by four years which he loved to hold above your head and objects that you couldn’t reach using his height as an advantage which only happened due to a growth spurt they both experienced over the last few summers, a smirk gracing his lips. “Aww, you can’t reach it, can you shortcake?” He teased.
It was something he made sure to do at least once when he came over, and this time was no different as you attempted to pack for the trip, it was the night before and of course, it made sense for Katsuki to stay the night so he and Eijiro currently took over the living room.
You could hear their shouts mixed in with the explicit cuss words the blonde loved to spill from his lips, it was causing a headache to crawl in the back of your skull to make home making your head thump with a doll throbbing. After shoving the last bit in your bag you stomped down the stairs to the living room and stood in front of the TV.
“Hello? Do you two even think about the other people in this house?” You asked glaring at your brother not even giving his friend the time of day, you knew that any word uttered to him would only come back ten times in a harsh tone. They both frowned unable to pause their game but shared a look still ignoring you having a silent conversation.
Katsuki stood and towered above you with his blonde eyebrows furrowed as he stepped closer to you forcing you to step back to put some space between you two. “Turn some music on then, now get out of the way of the TV because you’re fuckin’ everything up.” He told you in a warning voice.
You tilted your head back to look at Katsuki who crowded your personal space enough for you to pinpoint the earthy and musky scent of his body wash and cologne, then his face was in yours pressing more until you could almost count the dark red flakes in his eyes and the freckles splashed over his nose.
It was a stare-off at this point until Eijiro broke it up grabbing the remote to turn down the shooting sounds that played from the TV, you placed your palms flat against Katsuki’s stomach ignoring the way the muscles contracted at the touch. “Now get the hell out of my way you asshat.” You pushed but there was no movement minus his lips that curled into a smirk.
Katsuki glared down at you, the new nickname was surprising, it wasn’t one he heard and he was pretty sure you had called him every name in the book, getting under your skin was by far his favorite thing to do, the cute little pout you wore drove him crazy. He stepped back to the couch and sat down taking the remote out of Eijiro’s hand to turn the volume back up.
He watched you storm out of the room grumbling something under your breath about how insufferable he is. “Why do you want to make her mad? I have to hear her complain about it later, and you better not piss her off on this trip or my parents won’t let you come again.”
Eijiro warned his friend rolling his eyes as he smashed the up button making sure the TV was the loudest it could go. “If you aren’t going to bug the shit out of her then someone should do it.” Was his friend's response before returning his attention to the flat screen.
The red-headed man was glad his friend didn’t pine after his little sister like most of his friends did, instead, he treated you almost as if you were his sister too, even though Eijiro was sweet and level-headed it still didn’t stop the sibling rivalry you two found homed in the relationship.
Thankfully you were already upstairs when the TV was turned up and even though they wouldn’t hear it you still slammed your door shut to release some of the pent-up frustrations that built whenever you were near Katsuki, you pushed him to the side in your mind and finished packing.
Would this year be a disaster now that he would be joining? You wondered what all Eijiro had to do to convince your parents to let him come because any time you asked to bring a friend it was always a no coupled with this is family time, but how can it be with Katsuki there?
When you finally made it downstairs the next morning you were met with the bane of your existence standing in front of the fridge with the doors open wide, he was the only one in the room, and the air felt like it was sucked out when you stepped inside with a scowl already.
“Good morning to you too,” He said with a smirk as he looked over at you from his shoulder before grabbing the bottle of juice unscrewing the cap with ease bringing it up to his mouth drinking straight from the carton without a care in the world as you watched his throat bob slowly, a small river of it leaked from the corner of his mouth and down his neck.
Your jaw dropped while staring at him, a big pet peeve of yours was him acting like he lived here and could do whatever it was and get away with it. “What the hell are you doing? That is so gross, you’re a pig.” You huffed rolling your eyes knowing he wanted you to snatch it from him.
He continued and ignored you before putting the cap back on and placing it back where he found it then shut the doors, the whole show threatened to dig under your skin and burrow deep, it was something Katsuki really enjoyed, seeing your eye twitch a little from irritation.
“Hello? Are you going to ignore me?” You asked as he stared at you, his eyes trained intently on yours, butterflies formed a tight ball in your lower belly it felt like, the intensity of his gaze was borderline uncomfortable and made you feel hot all over as if tiny little fires licked at your skin.
Katsuki still stayed silent knowing exactly what buttons to push and took a step toward you then another until your back was flush against the countertop, your head tilted back a little to glare up at him, his lips were pulled into a cocky smirk knowing he had you pinned like a wild animal.
Everything about him was big, taking up space in its eternity from his broad shoulders and chest to his arms, the corded muscles weren’t to the point of being over the top but still, you could tell he took very good care of his body and was proud of it and as he should be, a thought you hated yourself for having. “What’s the matter short-cake?” He asked in a teasing tone.
You knew his question was rhetorical, as if he did really care, you used your go-to tactic placing your hand on his chest to give him a firm push but he never budged, no matter how hard you did either. “If you wanted to feel me up all you had to do was ask.” He said, voice low now.
Both his and your eyes dropped down to your hands, subconsciously you curled your fingers a bit into the fabric of his dark shirt like you were feeling him up, just as quick as you looked you jerked your hands back and then crossed your arms over your chest not saying anything.
Katsuki pulled back and turned out to walk out of the kitchen but not before leaving without a snide remark. “I’m getting in the shower in case you want to watch me, little perv.” Your cheeks flamed at his nickname and you knew his invitation was just to get a rise from you but still.
Thankfully you were able to avoid him until after breakfast and when you were packing up the car, but this time Eijiro was there showing him something on his phone. “You two move out of my way.” The video Katsuki was showing your brother had them engrossed to do anything.
They both acted like they couldn’t hear you and stood in front of the open back hatch blocking your way from putting your bag inside, your nostrils flared from the anger that settled in your belly wanting nothing more than to stomp on their feet but you knew it would result in a fight.
Eijiro would more than likely put you in a headlock as he usually does when you get on his nerves, and that you hated more than anything. You gripped the handle of your bag and walked to the side door yanking it open and throwing it in before slamming it shut rocking the vehicle.
“You don’t have to slam the door, we were going to move until you stomped away,” Katsuki said leaning over the back to look at you with a knowing smile that he wasn’t about to do what he said he was going to, the rage in your eyes only spurred him on to break your resolve more.
You lifted your middle finger in the air and walked out of the garage hearing him and Eijiro go back to their video with Katsuki laughing at it but you knew it wasn’t for what was on his phone, it was directed towards you.
Time was not on your side it seemed like because not an hour later you were sitting in the back with Katsuki who insisted that Eijiro was able to sit by himself for the first hour then he’d sit with him until everyone arrived at the cabin, thankfully it was only three hours there.
You pulled your phone out to distract yourself by burying yourself in your romance novel, which was going along quite well until it became a little more mature, now in the throes of being erotic and graphic, Katsuki could clearly read the first two paragraphs which had to be the most explicit before you titled it quickly and elbowed him.
He looked at you with an unreadable expression while pulling his phone out to text you despite sitting right there.
Incoming Text
[K:] You’re a little perv, I bet you’d like that to happen to you
He watched you flick away the notification and roll your eyes pulling the screen back up until you were twisted enough that he couldn’t see, Katsuki smirked a little and leaned back spreading his legs more than what was needed pressing his knee into yours.
You jerked back and scooted over until you were pressed against the hard uncomfortable plastic knowing it was undeniable; that strong shot of heat running down your leg at the contact, you huffed and grabbed the pillow between your legs to lay it against the plastic and lay your head on to go back to your phone.
Katsuki went back to his own thing keeping his leg away from yours but still spread so that if you did relax your leg it would be touching his again while you fought the urge not to finish the book, it was getting good and part of you that you wished didn’t exist played you and him out as the two main characters
The male was currently fingering the female lead while urging her with praises but you didn’t know what happened after that because the blonde man next to you still could see the sentences with his own mind playing out a version of the same thing.
Thankfully the hour passed by and you could finally stretch your legs out once Katsuki joined Eijro in the middle row which gave you an idea, a way to test the man that was so hell-bent on making your life a living hell.
“Hey, E, I have a question.” You murmured leaning forward to rest your chin on the seat between his and Katsuki ’s broad shoulders ignoring his eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.
Your brother turned his head to look at you raising an eyebrow. “What’s the question?” He asked putting his phone down for a moment, even though sometimes he can be mean Eijrio is mostly sweet to you, you’re his little sister after all.
“Is Deku single? I just saw him post something on Instagram, he’s very cute.” You almost purred placing your phone between them with a small smile, and you weren’t really lying, he is cute with his dark curls and his freckles, plus with how sweet he is, he’s the total package.
But he was nothing like the blonde man next to you even though he’s a brute you still can’t deny the feelings you’ve harbored for him the last couple of years. Katsuki huffed and rolled his eyes as he slid his earbuds in which only made you smirk knowing it was irritating him.
Eijiro shrugged and tapped his phone screen to text his old friend. “I just asked him, why don’t you ask him out on a date?” He asked nonchalantly.
You slapped his shoulder and pushed him with a slack jaw. “You did not just text him that?! What did you say?” You all but squealed not really wanting him to ask, and deep down you just knew he would say that you wanted to know his relationship status.
“Stop being a spaz jeez, I’ll let you know the answer later.” Your brother said pushing you back into your seat earning a glare from you as you settled back in the leather hoping that the trip would just end at this point so you could go back to everything that seemed normal.
Thankfully the rest of the ride was silent and uneventful until you got out of the back and near Katsuki feeling the icy wall that he built around himself after your question about Deku, the curly-haired little fuck. It shouldn’t bother him but it feels foreign; envy, the green monster.
His red eyes followed your form when you walked inside first to turn the lights on before coming out to get your bags, a frown graced your pouty lips as he looked at you. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.” Your voice dripped with disdain, but you still couldn’t admit that you liked it.
Maybe you are a pervert after all. It was a very quick thought that was pushed back because you know you’re not one. “Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart and I call the guest room with the bathroom,” Katsuki replied hitching his strap over his shoulder before walking past you and inside.
“Why are you friends with such an asshole?” You asked looking at your brother before following the blonde man walking past him to the hallway to the room he called not letting him have any type of chance to actually claim it when you shut and locked the door.
Through the door, you could hear Katsuki mumble under his breath. “Why is your sister such a bitch?” He asked your brother who sighed and shook his head feeling like you both were siblings instead and he was the parent putting an end to the fight.
After unpacking your bags you found yourself settled in the living room chair with your book reader in your hands scanning the same paragraph multiple times with a groan.
Down the hall, you could hear heavy bass thumping making it difficult to concentrate on anything. Your parents left once they unpacked themselves to head to town.
It was a tradition much like coming out here, they’d usually leave Eijiro here but he asked to come to pick a few things up and opted to leave his best friend here despite your protesting.
Reading the page again you clicked the button shutting the screen off before making your way down to Katsuki ’s temporary room and barged in, not bothering to knock.
The insult that simmered in your mouth died down when you caught him shirtless doing pushups, immediately it was clear that he took did take very good care of his body. You stood there like a deer caught in headlights watching him like a star-struck fan seeing their idol.
Sweat clung to his skin making him glisten thanks to the low sun that shone from the open window and his grunts made you ache in the worst way possible. His muscles flexed tight as he continued unaware you were watching him.
With a shake of your head, you stomped over to the stereo and pushed the off button filling the room with silence minus his grunts and heavy breathing. “Does it have to be that loud?” You asked glaring at him trying not to let yourself get so flustered at the sight in front of you.
Katsuki continued and ignored you counting under his breath until he was finished before he kneeled on the floor looking at you with a flushed face screwed up in annoyance. “Yes, it does, now turn the radio on whenever you’re done bitching.”
“Go to hell! Why would I do something for you?!” You screamed from the frustration that built up from the small time you’ve already spent with him. Ruby irises watched you have your little meltdown with a chuckle as he rose from his spot and towered above you.
You moved away from him until the back of your knees were pressed against the mattress. His arms bulged as he caged you by pressing them down on either side of you forcing you to sit down, his face a mere inch away from yours, his scent full of potent male invading your senses.
Pressure mounted between the two of you as the stare-down continued, Katsuki’s nostrils flared as your eyes traced the droplets of sweat that trickled down his face. “If I didn’t know any better you wanted to stay back when you could’ve gone but yet…here you are.” His voice trailed off as his thumb and pointer finger came up to grab your chin jerking your head to look at him.
You didn’t even know you looked down to watch the sweat travel down his muscular body, the perverse part of you wanted to follow behind it with your tongue. “Let go of me.” You hissed and pulled away from him placing your hands on his chest, his skin was warm and flushed as you pushed him back enough to slot yourself between the space and get away from him.
“Leaving so soon princess?” Katsuki teased as he sat on the bed where you were to grab his water bottle but you were out of the room by then stomping down the hall feeling hot where he had touched you, the ache between your legs came back with a vengeance as you thought about how he’d sound fucking you, would he grunt like that?
Once you were settled back on the couch the music started up again, but this time you ignored it and turned your book reader on again trying to find the spot you lost and read from there soon getting lost in the words, with how the author described things your blood pumped hot making you flustered with need. You scanned the room quickly even though you knew you were alone and slipped your hand under the band of your shorts into your panties.
There was already a damp spot just from reading about the male character swirling his tongue against the female character's clit, you tried to mimic the movement and spread your legs further knowing you only had a few minutes to get away with this. You slid your finger up and down between your pussylips before barely dipping them inside while you scanned the words.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you pictured Katsuki kneeling between your legs instead, two thick fingers pumping in and out of your drenched cunt making such a mess, the wet sounds would be so lewd and you’d want him to make fun of you for it. The book reader clattered to the floor as you chased your high now lost in the sensation of fucking yourself. “Such a little pervert.”
Katsuki stood above you, his arms crossed over his chest watching you finger yourself on the couch. “What the -” You screeched only to be stopped when he bent down to press his digit against your lips watching your sentence die. Stuck in another stare-down you couldn’t help but look away and remove your fingers even though you were so close to coming.
Awkward tension filled the space between you both as he continued to stare at you, his red eyes filled with a whirlwind of emotions, the main one being that he wanted to rip your clothes off to have his way with you, he is a man after all, and you? You’re the sweetest woman that reminded him of the ripe fruit he was so desperate to pluck even though it was forbidden.
Just a taste is what he told himself as he sat down on the couch and pulled you down over his lap not giving you a single second to think before he hooked his fingers in your pants and panties to pull them down exposing you to him.
“How’d I know you wore silk panties?” He questioned out loud with a chuckle and ran his calloused palms over your bare ass spreading the cheeks as his index finger spread the slick that gathered on your lips to your clit where he pressed it in hearing you whine a little. His eyes followed how you arched your back and spread your legs a little for him making it easier.
Katsuki thumbed you apart and watched your hole flutter around nothing. “Look at you, not talking back and just letting me play with your cute pussy.” He clicked his tongue and thrust two fingers inside you instantly curling them to massage your g-spot, his thumb returning to your clit to rub circle eights on it.
It was messy and wet the more he continued letting his free hand massage your ass like a teenage boy who’s never touched a naked woman before.
You gripped his pants and moaned hating yourself for letting this happen but the fire inside you was too strong to put out until you came. “Better hurry up if you don’t want to get caught by your family letting your big brother's best friend finger your tight pussy, huh?” He asked picking up the pace intent on making you cum for him feeling his cock strain in his pants.
Katsuki knew exactly what to do to make you come undone, the rough pads of his fingertips grazed your g-spot before curling to rub at it while his thumb stayed focused on your clit swirling it around as he let his free hand massage each ass cheek molding the flesh in his palm as he watched his fingers disappear inside your weeping pussy over and over taking him so well.
Your face burned as you humped his fingers feeling your lower belly tighten, the ball coming unraveled as your climax washed over you. “Katsuki!” You panted and sighed letting him slowly pull his fingers out before sliding them in his mouth getting a taste of what he’s going to have to miss out for now.
After several minutes you scrambled off his lap and tried to pull your pants and underwear up in haste avoiding his vermillion eyes, he leaned back and watched you with a smirk. “Seems like it doesn’t take much to shut you up before you turn into an orgasm-hungry little plaything.” He teased with a cackle as he stood up and looked at you waiting for your response.
You glared at him and grabbed your book reader. “I’ve had better.” You spit and walked out of the living room before you let him do much more than just make you cream on his fingers.
Fifteen minutes later after the whole debacle between you and Katsuki, your parents and brother returned with dinner and requested everyone at the table naturally, forcing you to face the blonde man.
“There’s something going on tonight downtown your father and I are going to attend, so you three will be here unless you want to go?” Your mom began once everyone was seated at the dining room table. She got grunts from all the men. “I’ll stay here.” You told her only to be echoed by Eijiro and Katsuki who no doubt had plans to ruin your night even more.
During the dinner, you could feel his socked foot rub against yours here and there, sometimes he’d smirk at you and lift his fingers up to his mouth to wipe away food, and his tongue would peak out tasting you again. This man had plans to drive you up the wall and it surely was working, making your resolve weaker and weaker.
“I’m done, thanks for cooking mom, good night everyone.” You announced and stood with your plate to drop it off in the sink before scurrying down the hall into your temporary bedroom.
You lay in bed replaying the scene that unfolded on the couch as you attempted to read your book again, the words on the screen jumbled together the more you tried to read. Giving up you checked the time seeing it was past eleven which meant Eijiro was asleep so Katsuki had to be as well giving you the time to indulge in some private time in the hot tub on the balcony.
After you got changed into your bathing suit, armed with your towel book and something to sip on you slipped outside in the warm sticky air to hear the hot tub running and Katsuki who grunted as he climbed over the side to see you standing there watching him.
“Did you follow me out here or something?” He asked lips curled up in a grin as he sank down on the bench.
You ignored him and set your things down to sit across from him looking up at the sky, the beauty of coming here was at night when there was nothing stopping you from seeing the beautiful stars shining against the inky background, the moon was high bathing the earth in a soft white glow giving it an almost ethereal feel. “Are you going to ignore me then?” Katsuki asked earning more silence from you.
He chuckled and rolled his eyes as he spread his legs setting his feet on either side of your thighs on the bench knowing he was right where he wanted to be. “Short-cake.” He spoke and leaned forward getting your full attention now, it was a silent dare. Are you going to break the tension or let him keep trying to play you like a board game? His throat bobbed when he swallowed.
Only the sounds of the bugs and wildlife and the boiling water could be heard as you stared at him again weighing all your options, it was clear as day that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You leaned forward and kissed him pressing your mouth to his in a needy kiss, your arms coming up instantly to wrap around his arms when he tugged you into his lap.
He settled back on the bench parting your lips with his tongue before tasting you whole, one hand holding the back of your neck while the other slides down your back ending to squish one ass cheek, your body was on fire between the hot tub and kiss and with how he touched you it was impossible not to roll your hips riding and dry humping his clothed erection.
His mouth worked down your jaw and neck and shoulders as he untied your bathing suit top before pushing you back a little to get a good view of your tits. “So pretty.” He murmured and cupped them, running his thumb over your peaked nipple before attaching his lips around the bud suckling on it softly then began nibbling gently.
Your fingers curled into his hair as you continued to dry fuck him hearing the water slosh around your bodies, you both panted grinding against each other desperate to cum until you were pushed back again until your ass was on his knees and mostly out of the water.
Katsuki untied the sides of your swimming suit bottoms slowly while letting his mouth litter your bare chest with slow opened mouth kisses. “I bet you’re fuckin’ soaked for me.” He grunted and spread your legs wider for him once your bare pussy was on display for him.
Two thick fingers spread you open for him as the water lapped over you. “Sit up for me princess,” Katsuki demanded and thrust his hips up once you did what you were told, you watched him hook his finger in the band of his bottoms and push them down to free his cock that ached and throbbed all for you.
The tip was red and swollen waiting for stimulation of any sort and water was not a good lube so with his dick free from the water you spit on your palm and used it to stroke his cock up and down coating him in your slick to make it easier teasing him a little bit as you looked at him with a sultry look in your eyes as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.
With your hands on his shoulders, you sunk down on him feeling the head catch on the soft opening of your pussy stretching you out already. You gasped and sat down fully feeling him in what felt like your womb with how thick he is, it made you feel dizzy. He leaned in and wrapped one arm around your waist to keep you steady.
“It’s just better if you let me take control short-cake.” He told you in a low tone, his voice growly and dark as he tucked you more into his chest planting his feet flat on the bottom of the hot tub to fuck you from below.
His mouth went back to your neck laving the flesh in kisses and nibbles that left you whining his name tugging on his hair as you rode him hard letting out all your frustrations. “It feels so good I hate you so much!” You cried softly and threw your head back holding onto him tightly.
Katsuki chuckled. “You say you hate me but the way you’re riding my dick tells me otherwise princess.” He shot back and laid his head over the edge of the hot tub watching you bounce so prettily up and down on his cock like you were made to do this, every single day.
His hands snaked under the water to grasp your ass cheeks helping you ride him. “You know as soon as I smell you I get hard, so sweet like a peach just begging to be suckled from.” He grunted against the column of your throat biting down on the flesh leaving a perfect set of teeth indentations.
Each time he bottomed out he kissed your cervix and stretched you out leaving you feeling incredibly full as you scratched at his back moaning his name brokenly feeling his thumb rub at your clit with slow motions. “Cum on my cock like I know you’ve been thinking about, you’re squeezin’ me so tight princess keep fucking me,” He growled when he pulled away from you for a brief moment, a bridge of spit between his lips and your bud strung when Katsuki leaned back.
It didn’t take much between his mouth that latched to your nipple again and his command, your pussy fluttered hard around him, your hips stilling from the intensity of it all. “Inside! Cum inside me!” You begged hanging onto him for dear life as you rode your orgasm out trying to milk him.
Katsuki snarled, feeling your cunt hug him tight and wet. “You think I would pull out of this warm wet pussy? Like chance in hell, I would.” He pounded you from below hard and fast now feeling his sack tighten trying to catch his own high before his climax hit.
He held onto you as he filled you to the brim fucking his cum deeper, the warmth spread from your womb throughout your entire body as you slumped against him panting hard. You both clung to each other coming down from your highs.
There wasn’t anything to be said as you pulled away from him to get dressed feeling hot and sticky. “I don’t want to ever speak about this again.” You told him in a hushed tone standing up to look at him, your chest still heaved as you covered yourself with your towel unable to meet his red gaze feeling his warm sticky load leak from your cunt.
“You say that now princess, I’ll be waiting, don't worry! For you, I’ll be a patient man!” Katsuki called out with a loud cackle as he watched you scurry off the balcony again and back inside knowing you’d be back for more of him, and he’d make sure of it.
#Katsuki x reader smut#Katsuki Bakugo x reader smut#katsuki smut#Katsuki x you smut#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#mha smut#bakugo smut#katsuki x yn smut#katsuki x you#Katsuki x reader#Katsuki Bakugo x reader#Bakugo x reader#my hero academia x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bnha x you#Katsuki x you#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugo katsuki
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Choso x reader<3 comforting Choso!
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡
“Choso?”
You’d been looking for your boyfriend for a while now. He hadnt answered any of your calls, and you were getting worried. He’d never missed a call from you, and if he had he’d called you back a minute later.
And now you were infront of his apartment, unlocking the door with the key he gave you. No response came when you call his name. And you take off your shoes, walking further into his home.
And then you hear it,
Muffled whimpers and cries coming from his bedroom. You take fast steps and open the door to the room, and when you walk in you dont see him at first. And then he sniffles.
You look down to see him sitting on the ground, hands on either side of his face as if to muffle out any loud noises.
And there are tears running down his handsome face.
“Choso…” you say softly and he looks up from his lap, and as if on cue he starts sobbing. You almost run to him, getting on your knees infront of him, careful not to touch him in case he doesnt want that.
Its always him taking care of you, him protecting you. Seeing him like this made your heart break.
“honey…whats wrong?” you speak to him quietly as hes still crying, trying to hide his face in his hands.
Suddenly He reaches out his arms and pull you into him, your form almost invisible now as he incases you in a hug, whimpering into your hair, spilling his tears. You reach up and stroke the top of his head softly, trying to calm him down.
You feel yourself start to cry too, from how much it hurts to see him like this. He senses it immediately and pulls his face away from your neck to look at you,
“no…” he says in hoarse voice, “m’ sorry…sorry dont cry my baby im…im fine,” he hiccups the words out, his breathing a little shaky.
You shake your head, “this isnt about me Choso…just…dont like seeing you sad,” you say in a small voice as he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.
“just…” he starts, “just miss my brothers,” he gets out before sobbing again.
You hug him tightly to you, carresing his back.
You sit there for a little while, you stroking his hair, and him crying into your neck, your shirt now wet with his tears. Hes almost calm now, his body has stopped trembling, and hes only sniffling a little.
“i know you miss them Choso…its okay” you tell him gently, “but you dont have to deal with it alone,” you stroke his cheek, whiping away the last of his tears.
“im here now…im here for you okay?”
He nods, “love you so much,” he says quietly, “i wanna get takeout for dinner…and watch a movie with you in my lap,” he kisses your forehead, “and you cant leave…not even to pee…or ill go with you,”
you giggle at him, hes adorable.
“promise me you’ll tell me next time you’re sad okay? i want to help…just like you always help me,” you kiss his lips softly.
“promise,” he says in a serious tone.
you kiss his face all over before speaking again, “ill call for some chinese food,”
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡
hes so cute im gonna jump.
this is very self indulgent i needed to write this so i wouldnt tweak too much about seeing him cry in the new Ep :’) i needed to hug him so bad.
#choso#choso x reader#choso kamo#jjk x reader#jjk choso#choso fluff#choso comfort#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you
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