#and my old timer ass | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellishjoel · 9 months

Text

say my name

8.5k / pairing: brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist main masterlist

summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, and his brother, Tommy, is in town to celebrate. You meet the more charming Miller for the first time, and the two of you flirt up a storm. By the end of the night, Joel’s pissed and jealous. But that doesn’t stop you from moaning Tommy’s name in bed.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, brat tamer!Joel, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, slapping, degradation, praise kink, spitting, choking, blood, marking kink, creampie, pussy smacking (??), lots of dom!joel brought out by jealous!joel, overstimulation, Tommy being a flirt, angst, mentions of being cheated on, Joel being a menace, unprotected p in v (wrap your willy or whateva), half-ass editing tbh

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller!! I was picturing this entire prompt with pixel Joel, thanks to @macfrog - this part is based off this request sent in!

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet. You moan into his ear, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.” It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence. “What did you say?”

September 26th, 2023. It’s Joel’s forty-second birthday!

The thought alone riles you awake. You love birthdays. You especially love when it’s Joel’s birthday because he hates his birthday. You have no idea why, he looks more and more handsome with each year that he blows out a candle.

You think about these things curled up into his side, chin on his chest while your fingers lightly grazed over his stippled grey chest hair. It was barely past the early morning hours. You gently trace over the etched lines in his forehead and between his brows. He must scowl at you even in his sleep. You should be asleep, too, especially after having spent the late hours of September 25th celebrating the end of Joel’s forty-first year with a bang. Literally.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, clutching his comforter to your bare chest as your panties are just out of reach on the floor a few feet from the bed. You huff and flee the warmth of his bed to retrieve them in as much silence as you can muster, watching him carefully let out a puff of air through his parted lips before lightly rolling over and spooning your pillow in the process. You stifle a giggle as you grab his t-shirt he threw off in the midst of getting handsy with you last night.

“Happy last day of being forty-one, old timer.”

“Shut up and bend over.”

He always did have a way with words.

You managed to sneak downstairs without Joel catching you in his arms. Your bare feet meet the cold tile of his kitchen floor.

Joel’s home looked like you might imagine. Dark walls, not exactly black but not exactly grey or navy. He has a desk, a messy one that is littered with bills and invoices scattered with pencils that had the erasers shaved down to nothing. There was a large flat screen mounted to the wall, and a television console below it filled with old vinyl records and random CDs. He did have a few plants scattered around, and he actually took very good care of them. There were a few dishes in the sink from dinner last night. Empty beer cans on the half-wall by his back garage door. His keys and wallet were thrown haphazardly on the counter.

These are the things that make you adore staying at Joel’s place, it was so homey and cozy. These were the things that made Joel, Joel.

You throw your hair up and out of your way, finding the box of cake mix you stashed in the back of his pantry for this very special occasion. And just like that, you were a chef in Joel’s kitchen. Or was it a baker?

Despite your best efforts, the cake was just a mess. And there were no redoes with cakes. And when you were shopping, you were thinking a little too much about yourself rather than Joel, so the cake was coated in pink icing. It was a shit cake, but you hoped Joel would like it. He wasn’t a guy with a big sweet tooth, but you’d force him to have a slice since this was your labor of love.

U CAN’T PICK YOUR FATHER BUT U CAN PICK YOUR DADDY was lettered with red icing and cute pink assorted sprinkles.

The smell of freshly baked cake woke him up.

“You burnin’ somethin’?” Joel’s tired voice echoed in the kitchen.

He was wearing grey sweats and his black boxers, the band peaking out from the top of his waistband as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He looked like a big oaf fresh from sleep, shuffling past you to the oven and turning on the fan to air out the smoke and smell.

“Ha-ha. Nothing’s that burnt. It’s your birthday cake!” You cooed as you showed him what you made.

The word birthday was enough to make him roll his eyes.

“Didn’t have to make me anythin’. Just another day.” He muttered but came up behind you to take a look at the cake nonetheless. You watched with a proud smile as the left side of his mouth quirked up upon reading the design.

“Do you like it?” You asked, turning your back to the counter and letting his hips pin you there. His large, warm palm settled low on your waist. You watch as he swipes his index finger into the frosting, observing the sugary cream before his eyes set on yours. His orbs are as black as night as he offers you a taste.

You maintain his eye contact as you lean in and wrap your mouth around his finger, hollowing your cheeks as you suckle it off and lap your tongue around the tip before letting him go with a soft smirk.

“Like it ‘cause you made it. That’s all.” Joel’s chest hums as he speaks, his head ducking down to catch your lips in a delicate kiss. The delicate part doesn’t last for long. His kisses turn heavy, and his cock hardens against your thigh as he bends you backward against the counter.

Your nails catch his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to smash into the cake. You know that if he gets too into this, he’ll end up pushing it aside so radically that your creation will end up on the floor, so you quickly nudge it out of reach before continuing.

He’s hungry, his tongue lines your bottom lip, still coated in a sugary taste, before he explores the inside of your mouth dominantly. You’re whimpering in excitement as his possessive hands lift you up onto the counter, your baking instruments clattering around you and rolling, making a complete mess, but you don’t care. It’s Joel’s birthday, after all.

You gasp into his mouth as he cups your clothed pussy and gently pats his fingers against you. The sensation makes your head fall back, and your eyes flutter closed. Your lips part just a fraction, Joel takes the opportunity to slip his tongue back inside to wrestle with your own. He pats you again, and you feel your panties grow a wet spot as white heat pools your insides.

“Just how I like it, ready to be taken like a little slut in the mornin’.” His rigid voice growled, suppressing you of any strength you had left to resist collapsing across the counter.

Both of you pause, irritated facial expressions matching when Joel’s phone starts to ring.

Your heavy pants mingle in the air between you with indecision. You glare at him as he moves half an inch away, the grip on his shoulders tightening in need. Don’t pick it up, Joel.

He closes his lips and lightly squints at you in disapproval as he stands up straight and starts toward his phone. You throw your head back and groan, slipping your hand over where his fingers just ghosted over the material of your panties. You lick your lips and watch him as he takes the call. He looks over the screen at the contact, his eyes shift to you. He’s hesitating. Not because he’s left you hot and heavy on the kitchen counter, but because he’s shielding his phone from you.

So help me god, motherfucker, if I find out you’re cheating on me, I will-

Your nerves are settled when he huffs and swipes right to answer the call. “‘ey Tommy.” After a beat, Joel rolls his eyes to himself. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Just another day.”

Your eyes blink slowly. It was his brother you had yet to meet. You hum lightly as you sink your hand past the band of your panties, soft lace grazing your knuckles while you slip your fingers between your delicate folds. You slowly pry open the one foot you have kicked up on the counter, spreading your leg wider so Joel can see you playing with yourself. He’s still not looking. You need his attention.

“Yeah, we can do somethin’, if that somethin’ means you’re payin’ for beers at the bar.” He said with a tired, but playful smirk. You’re growing so wet at the sight of him. Your fingers make a squelching noise as you slowly push two fingers inside your aching hole. This catches his attention.

His head whips to you like a prowling lion hearing a twig snap. His eyes narrow on the target of the noise before they dart up to you. You know that look.

Take your hand out of your fuckin’ panties. Don’t you fuckin’ touch yourself.

You cock your head with an attitude. “Say it with your chest.” You pipe up, so loud that the voice on the other line chirps in.

“Who was that?” You smirk at the attention Tommy’s already given you.

“Hi, Tommy!” You shout, and now Joel’s really pissed. He comes up and clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring daggers into your big doe-eyed pupils.

“Is that your girl, big brother?”

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter, his breath coming out in hot, annoyed puffs through his aquiline nose.

“You hidin’ her from me? Invite her to drinks tonight!” Tommy shoots out the invite before Joel can take it away. You slowly lick up the hand that’s holding your mouth hostage. Joel is used to this. He only adds more pressure to his hold on your mouth.

He glares at you and juts his jaw around in annoyance, considering Tommy’s offer. “Yeah.. yeah, we’ll see,” Joel murmurs while you keep tonguing his hand. He gives your face a little slap, a stupid moan escaping your lips before he grips your cheeks again once more and covers your mouth.

Don’t forget who’s in charge here, little bitch.

You hum quietly against his hand and wrap your legs firmly around his hips. He stumbles forward half a step. You can feel his hardened length protruding from his gray sweats, your cores lightly grinding against one another as you purposely whimpered against his palm.

Not long after, Joel ends the phone call with Tommy, and he begrudgingly releases his slobbery hand from your mouth and pushes back from the hold you attempted to lock him in. You huff as he leaves the kitchen, watching as he rakes his fingers up and down his beard and gently scratches at the skin. What was up with him?

“We’re going out for drinks tonight?” You pester after you both have taken a shower for far too long, the steam fogging up his mirror and making Joel’s skin a light rosy pink.

He lets out a short sarcastic chuckle. “I’m goin’ out tonight. You’re stayin’ here.”

You frown as you look Joel over, his stern facial expression matching his tone.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, I’m going out tonight. With you. This is the third time I’ve tried to meet Tommy in person and-”

“And nothin’.” He intercepts, venom dripping from his words that makes your throat become scorching hot with anger.

You have a hard time letting this go. Especially since whenever Tommy was in town, Joel magically came up with every excuse in the book to keep you from properly meeting his younger brother. Was Joel ashamed of you? He didn’t want Tommy to think that this was the type of girl Joel kept in his company. He didn’t want you to embarrass him. That’s always what it came down to.

You brushed past him, your shoulder laying a heavy hit to his arm as you fled the bathroom with haste. You enter his bedroom and find your bag carrying your clothes for the weekend. You pulled on whatever you could find as hot rage made your skin tingle.

“Where you goin’, angel?” Joel tries to half-ass console you, stopping your movements, taking the keys you had just dug out from the depth of your bag, and holding them up so tall they were out of your reach even on your tippy toes.

“Give them back, Joel.” You had a burning feeling in your chest, and Joel was fighting with fire.

He just shakes his head, his eyes looking over you with a tight jawline. “Need you to relax. Last time you got this pissed at me, you keyed half of my fuckin’ truck.” He muttered, your eyes narrowing on his as you crossed your arms.

“And I’ll key the other half if you don’t give me back my-”

“Keys?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow, wiggling the keychain with the cute dangly accessories on it and making you absurdly annoyed. You swallow a lump that’s growing in your throat. Joel sighs and cautiously brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You hate denying how comforting it is when his warmth courses through your body like this.

“Why won’t you let me meet your brother?” It sounds more whimpery than you intended, big soft eyes looking into Joel’s hardened ones. “I mean, I know we’re not anything serious, but we’ve been together for a while, and it’s your birthday, and I know that you hate that it’s your birthday, but I love your birthday, and I sort of love you, and I want to meet the people you care the most about.”

The room tenses as your eyes connect. Shit. That’s how you chose to tell him? That you sort of loved him? Fucking idiot.

Joel pauses before he starts slowly shaking his head, and your chin dips defeatedly. You think he’s shaking his head because he doesn’t feel the same way, he doesn’t sort of love you like you sort of love him. How could he? Your emotions for one another were a mangled mess. One night, you were fighting like cats and dogs, and both of your eyes lit up during the heat of yet another fight. Then the next night, you were begging him not to stop fucking you, to never leave you, to never betray the trust you had in him that you two had built together over time.

His thumb delicately courses up your cheekbone then gently across the arch of your chin. His hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in until you’re close enough he can set a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. This was what made it so confusing. Were you still fighting? Were you two making amends?

“You’re not meetin’ Tommy. Not tonight. That’s final.” His words are whispered but somehow still piercingly cold, his voice monotone and flat as he forbade you from meeting his brother. “Want you here when I come back so we can celebrate together. Just you and I.”

A frown etches into your features. More like so he could have a warm body to fuck on his birthday.

He brushes by you and starts his day like any other. He didn’t even say he sort of loved you back.

---

Did he really think you’d give up without a fight?

You managed to convince Joel that you were fine without meeting Tommy tonight, that maybe he just wanted some brotherly time together. He leaned into that shit-ass excuse like it was his last lifeline. He could care less about his familial bond, he just wanted you not to be fucking pissed off. But you were pissed off. And you looked hot pissed off.

You especially looked hot and pissed off in the skin-tight dress you wore, accompanied by the designer clutch Joel purchased for your last birthday.

You’d assume that the hardest part of your little plan was knowing which of the many bars Joel and Tommy could make their trek to. But Apple Air Tags came in a bundle of four, so you slipped one into Joel’s truck. What else were you going to do with the extra ones? Might as well put them to use.

You took a car service to the downtown Austin brewpub, Blue Owl Brewing. Let’s just say you were a bit dressed up for the establishment.

You spotted Joel sitting at a small table in the back, facing the entrance of the bar as you strolled in with a devilish smirk on your face. His large hand was nursing a tall glass of amber-colored beer, a wide and genuine smile on his lips as he jeered conversation back and forth with Tommy, whose back was to you.

You slowly made your way through the dark oak bar, Joel’s eyes connecting with yours almost immediately. He looked like he could break you in half the way his eyes narrowed on you. But Joel was smart. He didn’t let much of his anger or annoyance seep through, because the damage was already done and you were already here.

“Hi, Joel,” you innocently coo before resting your hand on his brother’s bicep. “You must be Tommy?” You ask with a smile so sweet it was probably giving Joel a toothache. He was taking a long, steady drink of his beer, the foam lightly frosting his mustache as he observes you with cautious eyes as you interacted with his brother.

Tommy looked starstruck by your beauty. His eyes don’t hold back from lightly grazing over your short dress and the exposed skin that accompanies it. “Aren’t you a beauty,” he pauses and looks to his brother with a small smirk of disbelief that his brother could bag a catch as hot as you. “You must be Joel’s girl he keeps me from.”

His comment makes you giggle, your hand cascading down his bicep to his forearm, your nails lightly adding pressure which makes Joel’s stature more domineering, even from across the table.

Tommy was younger, with medium-length dark curly hair and a mustache that mirrored Joel’s. But he doesn’t have Joel’s beard, the facial hair you’ve grown to love. His mouth carries a dangerous little smirk, and it hasn’t left since you joined their table. He was handsome, it was a family trait the two brothers shared.

“Please, sit down, beautiful.”

You hum softly at the compliment, watching as Tommy grabs a nearby barstool from a table close by and sits you down at the end of the table, between both Tommy and Joel.

“Joel, I thought you said your girl couldn’t make it out tonight?” Tommy inquires, waving down the waitress to come and get you a drink.

“Oh, did he?” You ask curiously, crossing one leg over the other and lightly leaning over the table as your breasts nearly spill out of your dress. Your eye contact with Joel was on fire. He was torn between chewing you up and spitting you out right here in the middle of the bar, or dragging you away and ripping off this too-short dress of yours.

You and Tommy were quickly buzzing with conversation. He was buying you cocktails and complimenting you every chance he could get. If you didn’t know any better, he was flirting with you openly in front of his older brother. Joel didn’t say much, a grunt here and there, a swift kick under the table to Tommy’s kneecap after he talked a little too much about the gorgeous curves of your body.

“Just can’t believe you are datin’ my brother, didn’t know he could score someone so-” As Tommy attempts to find the words, his warm palm settles on your thigh, dangerously high too. He takes an inch or two of your dress with it, and your breath snags in your throat. You can’t deny the jaded way you feel about it, feeling a hot flash course through your body as you feel your head flush with heat.

“Watch it.” Joel finally mutters coherently. Perfectly coherent. Like he needs Tommy to hear it crystal clear. No one touches you.

Tommy seems to like the rise out of Joel just as much as you do. Which is perhaps why you’re leaning into it.

“You’re too kind, Tommy, really.” You take his hand off your thigh and maneuver it back into his lap. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the one Joel has to deal with, not the other way around.” You tease, and Tommy lets out a drunk laugh.

“Trust me, gorgeous, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. That was Joel’s first mistake tonight, leavin’ you at home.”

Your eyes soften, and you glance over to Joel. He’s damn near snarling the way he’s gritting his teeth and staring daggers into Tommy. You had never seen him so possessive before.

“That’s enough out of you,” Joel remarks as he heavily sets down the empty pint glass and shuffles his barstool back, letting out a screeching scrape.

“We’re leavin’,” Joel tells you, making your jaw tick tighter. Where did he get off telling you what to do?

“I don’t think I-”

“Now.” He says more seriously. The giddy feelings you shared with Tommy were now squashed under the weight of Joel’s boot. You decide to hop off the barstool and call it a night, for both of our sakes. You accomplished your mission, met Tommy and disobeyed Joel. So let’s leave while we’re ahead.

You turn to Tommy, who is also stepping down from the barstool and putting cash on the table to cover the tab. “It was nice meetin’ you, sugar. Take care of my big brother, will ya?” He asks as he settles his hands warmly on your waist and pulls you in for a kiss on your cheek.

Heat sets your body alight. Tommy was gentle, if not even a bit calculated with his movements. Why did all of a sudden you feel like the pawn in Tommy’s game rather than the other way around?

“Goodnight, Tommy.” You whisper with a tight-lipped smile, taking Joel’s hand and letting him guide you out of the brewery.

---

The ride home in the truck was quiet. Real fuckin’ quiet. You tried to be content just listening to the low volume of the radio or the soft rumbling of his truck. You went to switch the station off of country and more to something you liked, but Joel smacked the volume to mute, making you groan. You grew so bored that you started counting the random tar lines in the road, adding to the total with each one you passed over. You stopped counting after fifty, or so.

“Joel-”

“Enough.”

He doesn’t let you speak. It makes your blood boil.

“If you just-”

“I said enough, god dammit. Don’t you think you’ve done enough tonight?” His words cut sharp, and you feel as small as you did this morning. This morning after you confessed that you sort of loved him. He’s breathing in heavy puffs, and he’s driving faster as he tries to get both of you back to the house.

“Why are you going so fucking fast?” You finally ask. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t care about him telling you to shut up. He ignores you for a moment before you probe him again. “Joel?” You ask with an annoyed tone. His eyes finally meet yours in a quick glance.

“Getting you home and out of that fucking dress.” He mutters, his large palm reaching across and cupping harshly at your upper thigh. A whiny gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers dig deliciously into your flesh. So that’s what’s got him driving so damn fast.

He pries your leg open, and he takes one look at how beautiful you look. More importantly, he’s looking at your lacey panties.

“Red. Perfect for you. Like the fuckin’ devil.”

You smirk as you grip his wrist and guide his hand to your clothed mound, a weak sigh leaving his lips as he cups over the wet spot that was forming just for him. Joel didn’t have to put in much work for you to be on the edge for him.

“I fucking hate you, Joel.”

He puffs out another breath of air through his nose. His way of laughing lately.

“Fuckin’ hate you more, baby.”

He toys with your panties for the remaining minutes of the drive, your nails having sunk so hard into his arm that you’re drawing small bits of blood from the moon-shaped cuts.

He damn near hauls you out of the truck once you’re parked. You leap into his arms as soon as the two of you walk past the threshold of his front door.

You force him to walk blindly through the house. He’s easily holding you up by one arm as you tighten your legs around his waist, causing your dress to ride up from the tension. You kiss him in a clash of teeth and tongues. You’re both ferociously horny for one another. And he’s pissed.

“Flirtin’ with my brother all fuckin’ night? You have fun with that?” He mutters against your mouth, slamming you up against the wall with a thud as your breath nearly knocks out of you from the force. He takes the opportunity of you planted there to grab the hem of your dress and push it up and off your body. His mouth latches to your exposed breasts, a throaty moan leaving your mouth as your small fists take him by the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Fuck,” you let out breathily, throwing your head back against the wall and humming lowly.

“Answer me.” He ruts his hips up against your core, and you’re painfully aware of how naked he’s making you and how clothed he still is.

“He’s actually really nice-” He suckles harder on your nipple, forcing a hiss out of your mouth. “Think I might trade in my older model for something younger.” Your tone is teasing, but the words are enough to make him detach from your nipple, a sinister look wavering his features cold.

He sneers and tilts his head to the side and back before shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

He rips you from the safety of the wall, your hands quickly scrabble to his shoulders to keep yourself upright while he leads you up the stairs to his bedroom. His heavy boots thud menacingly. You try to hide your smile in the crook of his neck, leaving angelic kisses on his neck and marking him with your lipstick, knowing how good Joel is about to make you feel.

He tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, your bare body finds warmth in his sheets. You admire him from below as he pulls his shirt off by gripping the material at the back of his neck and hauling it off him in one swift motion. The sight alone makes your pussy ache and your insides churn.

God, he was so handsome. He had this soft bulk to his body that expanded from the hardened planes of his chest and toned tummy to the light bulge in his biceps. His chest hair was a sprinkle of dark black stippled with light grey hairs that became sparse before trickling to a thicker patch, creating his happy trail.

Holy fuck, he looked like he was going to devour you.

Joel wasted little time with formalities. He had your legs parted, the rough denim of his jeans grinding against your soft skin. His tongue explored your mouth while both of his palms massaged the supple plushness of your breasts. He was pinching your nipples between his fingers, making you whine into his mouth for relief while they hardened in his hold.

You slip your hands between your middles, fingertips gently trailing down to capture the button of his jeans and push down his zipper. You have to wiggle around a bit, as Joel is pinning you to the spot. You’re so desperate for him that it almost turns into a fight to get his jeans off. He tugs on your bottom lip, a light whimper leaving you upon tasting the metallic tang of blood fill your mouth.

You smack Joel’s arm until he releases you, huffing at him.

“Asshole.” You mutter.

He sneers at you as he places a delicate kiss to your lips in apology. “That’s what cunts get.” He mutters under his breath. The term makes you flinch, your hand coming up to give him a good smack across the face, but he captures your wrist and pins it back to the bed. You both eagerly consume one another in a desperate kiss. You think you see him smiling as he tastes the light scrape of blood he’s caused.

Joel moves his weight to his forearms and aids you in the ongoing war between you and his pesky jeans. With his weight off you, you easily push down his jeans and his black boxers, your feet pushing down the last of the material around his ankles. He sits back on his haunches, heavy hands gripping the sides of your panties as he pulls them down your legs, leaving you bare with him.

You immediately slip out of the hold he has on your wrist and put your hand between your legs. Your fingers move eagerly between your glistening folds and slick them up with arousal. He smacks your hand away and pins your wrist to the bed once more. So fucking disobedient.

Once he settles between you, a soft gasp escapes your lips once you feel his thick shaft landing heavily against your sex. He was thick and ready for the taking, his tip was red with anger and need.

“You were a real fuckin’ handful tonight.” He mutters, letting his tip slide up and down your glistening folds. You were not in the mood for teasing.

You grit your teeth and glare up at him. “I think Tommy agreed.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growls, your chest rising and falling quickly. He takes notice as your body tingles with excitement.

“Such a pain in my goddamn ass sometimes, more trouble than your worth.”

“Why don’t you toss me to Tommy then, huh? That way I can see which Miller brother fucks me better.” You sneer, a sloppy smirk crossing your features. It’s harshly stripped from you as Joel takes your face and squishes your cheeks with the grip of his hand. Your eyes clench closed at the slight pain, feeling him angle your head to face him. He’s power-hungry.

“Open those eyes, pretty girl.” His voice is rocky and lust-filled, dangerous like gasoline. It takes a moment, but you flutter them open. You didn’t realize that you were holding onto Joel’s puffed-up biceps, hard as a rock under your hold.

He slowly scans you, up and down, weighing his options of how to handle you. The problem that you were. His little brat. “You wanna cum tonight?”

Your ultimate weakness. A sheepish whimper leaves your squished lips, trying to blink back the slight tears that are forming from his manhandling. Mascara stings your eyes, but you hold his eye contact, because he asked you to, because it’s Joel, and you’d do anything for him at the end of the day.

You manage an “Mhm, please.” Joel’s eyes soften as he comes back to you and your warmth.

He doesn’t say anything, just angles his hips just right since you two fit perfectly together and thrusts inward. The breath in your lungs is punched out, head grinding back into the bed as your chin angles to the ceiling. You hiss at the initial discomfort that his thick cock causes. He’s fucked you a million times, but there’s nothing better than the first thrust where you’re still adjusting to his size, his girth, his length, his everything.

The clamp his hand has on your cheeks eventually releases, shifting the weight back to his forearms as his head settles above yours. He places another gentle kiss on your lightly swollen bottom lip. His loving reassurance warms your body. He’s starting steady, honorably letting your arousal take the lead in getting you both lubed up. He feels like heaven coursing through your tight hole, making himself the perfect fit for you.

You wrap your arms around his neck a little too tight, bringing him down into you as he breathily laughs against your ear.

"Y'know, it's kinda hard to be rough with ya when you're bein' so sweet."

Your chest heaves with his words, a sudden and impactful sense of vulnerability passing through you. It makes you nervous. It makes your skin swelter with warmth and makes a bead of sweat form at your temple. You and Joel don’t have this type of warmth in your relationship. Warm in the sense of boiling, too hot, too much, screaming and shouting and fighting and kissing. Not this. Not the gentle thrusts lightly rocking into you, letting you adjust to him, pulling him in for a gentle embrace as you capture him in a needy hug.

You’re not the I love you type, yet you said it to him this morning. Sort of. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly shake your head.

You remind yourself that he didn’t say it back this morning. He wasn’t saying it now. Was he just using you? No.. no, it wasn’t that. But he wasn’t going to let you meet his family. He wasn’t going to say he loved you. He wasn’t going to marry you if that’s even what you wanted right now. It wasn’t. But you couldn’t deny you thought about your future with Joel. Even with all the fighting, the anger, the jealousy, it was all out of love. But maybe that love was one-sided.

The arms you had draped around his neck turned into sinking your nails into the base of his back. You slowly began scraping them upwards and forming long, raised red lines in their path. Joel grunts and hisses at the burn he’s feeling, broad shoulders tightening and his hips snapping into you more ferociously now.

Your lower lip trembled with anger, but you didn’t let him see as you pushed his head down to your breasts. He took the hint with a broken moan as he suckled a bruise on your collarbone.

The pain of his thrusts turned into numbing pleasure, his tip kissing your cervix with each and every heavy snap of his thrusts.

“Fuck yeah, Joel,” you moan. You stroking his ego only makes his movements more methodical, one of his hands pushing your leg down onto the bed rather than snaking around his waist and exposing you to a new angle that left you searching for air. Joel returns his forehead to rest over yours, both of your sweat glistening. You stare into his eyes, and all you feel is anger and regret for saying you loved him. He was fucking you so good too, you both had never gone as slow as you had at the start. It was twisting the coil inside of you so smoothly, that your brain was getting foggy.

You moan into his ear, revenge and regret swirling inside of you like an insidious tornado. Your eyes flutter close in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.”

It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence.

“What did you say?” His voice is slow, slick with a cursed concoction of lust and fury.

Too far. Way too fucking far.

You pause as you try to recollect yourself, having just been nearly blinded by your approaching orgasm. “I- I said Joel,” Now you were just trying to convince yourself that you didn’t accidentally or not accidentally just moaned his brother's name in bed. “I-”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” He mutters, chest puffed up and muscles straining with veins like thick rivers coasting up his arms.

He starts slow. His hand shifts to fasten around your throat, and with each word that leaves him, his grip tightens. “Tell me… what you said.” He speaks through gritted teeth, eliciting a whimper from you as he snarls.

You swallow a lump in your throat, cold goosebumps flooding over your previously scorching hot skin. You were starting to feel the neglect from his lack of thrusts, whining softly as you tried to grind your hips up into his.

His large palm slams into your hip with force and pins you to the bed, letting out a whine of annoyance.

“You want Tommy fuckin’ you instead? Huh?” His jaw is tight and only clicking tighter as he stares daggers into you. Fuck, you were only flooding him with more of your arousal. You purposely flexed your tight walls around the swell of his cock.

“N-No, Joel -- fuck -- want you.” You whimper out as your hands soften on his shoulders, and you gently cup his face. He shakes his head loose of your hold, annoyance and anger still shooting up his spine.

“I don’t think you do, pretty girl, think you want someone else. Tommy.” His hips were thrusting again, harsh snaps that physically rocked your body up the bed with force that made your jaw drop. Fuck he felt so damn good. The lack of air was making your head swirl.

You took in a sharp breath as he manhandles your face once more, forcing you to look at him. “Dirty fuckin’ slut, you want both of us, don’t you?” Well, you can’t deny the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He licks his lips before he spits on your face, lathering you in his saliva as you gasp in shock.

“J-Joel,” your words can’t come out smooth with how roughly he’s fucking you. His hips are slamming your thighs, and the bedframe is smacking the wall with all his might. “Fuck-ing- shit,” you throw your head back now up into his pillows and try to grip onto the sheets to maintain your position. That coil that was smoothly coursing you towards a gentle orgasm was long gone, as was Joel’s right mind. Now the coil was tightening and nearly breaking, your mind going blank and seeing stars.

“Say my name,” Joel grunts, his hand coming up and smothering the saliva he spat on your face. It runs black with your mascara tears and messy red lipstick before he brings his hand back to your throat.

You breathe heavily as your mind tries to connect syllables and make a coherent word. “I- I..” You can’t focus, and Joel punishes you for it. He spits on you again, hot and warm on your face, and all you can picture is if it was his cum showering you instead. “Fuck!” You shout at him. He takes the opportunity of your mouth open to speak, forcing two fingers inside.

“Suck’em, pretty little bitch,” Joel mutters, watching you with eyes from hell.

You whimper and suckle around his fingers, trying not to choke on them, focusing all your energy on trying not to get in more trouble. You line your tongue up and down both digits, tasting him, tasting Joel. He pulls his fingers from you with force and leaves your own saliva dribbling out of your messy mouth and down your chin.

He puts his slimy fingers to use and starts slowly circling your clit. Your eyes light up, wide, and you grip onto his bicep for desperation. “P-Please, too much, Joel,” you whimper, feeling the coil close to snapping as he starts doing precise figure-eights on your swollen nub. It was all too much.

“Say my name,” Joel says on repeat, your glassy eyes only being able to focus on him, just like he wanted.

He starts marking you with his mouth, ferocious teeth nipping at the sensitive skin along your breasts and collarbones, so harshly that they burn once he’s done, and covering you in red and purple splotches.

Joel’s grunting above you, withholding his own orgasm as another form of torturing you. “Say my name, god dammit, tell me who owns this fucking pussy.” He spits on you, mean and hot, and he’s all you can see, all you can think.

Say my name. Say my name. God dammit, say my fucking name.

“J-Joel!” You cry out his name and clench your eyes closed, but he doesn’t slow his thrusts or his fingers. “Fu-Fuck me, Joel, keep fucking me good, Joel, Joel, Joel- fuck!” you swallow down the lump in your throat as you see his goading smirk, his hips slamming you with all he’s got.

“Come on baby, want Tommy t’hear you, want the whole damn neighborhood t’hear you-- shit,” he mutters, eyes clenching closed as your walls flutter around him in a nearing orgasm.

“Say my name!” He shouts, and you cry out in pleasure.

He was like God, your God.

“Joel!” You cry out. The coil snaps, and the curtain falls down. Your back arches, and you throw your hips into Joel’s, fisting the sheets and dipping your eyes closed again as you let out a moan that shakes the entire house. Joel’s not long behind you, he paints your walls white in adoration, load after load marking your walls as his own, no one else's.

A few minutes pass and he’s still buried inside of you. You look psychotic, fucked dumb and raw. “I’m yours, Joel.” You say barely above a whisper, desperate eyes searching his own for warmth.

You’re twitching below him, overly exerted and tired. You’re motionless, half-dead under the man who resurrected you. He’s panting heavily from doing all the work per usual. His mouth is agape, trying to catch his breath as your numb limbs lie in place while he pulls out of you. He’s dripping with your arousal-cum mixture. Oh, but he’s not done. He kneels on the bed and smacks his hand against your pussy before cupping it.

It makes your eyes widen, and you let out an overstimulated cry at the feeling. You quickly shake your head, grip his wrist, and meet his eyes with a pleading expression. “N-No Joel, can’t -- fuck -- can’t do another one right away, give me a sec baby-”

“Do you know why I didn’t want Tommy to meet you?” His words ram your numb brain senseless.

You whimper as he’s already starting slow circles on your clit, goosebumps forming once more. You muster up a shake of your head.

No. No, I don’t know why you won’t let me meet your fucking brother, the question has been gnawing at me all damn day, though.

“When we were younger, Tommy had a bad streak of sneakin’ off with my girlfriends.” He did? You had no idea. Joel’s voice is deviously quiet during his story-telling, wrecked with residual anger and desire for you.

His thumb takes over massaging your clit, feeling both his index and middle finger slowly curl their way into your entrance. Your head nudges back against the pillows again, releasing a string of whimpers as he works you up again. He’s pushing his cum back inside of you while his fingers squelch.

“He was flirtin’ with ‘em, harmless at first, ‘til he decided he wanted ‘em for himself.” Your jaw tightens as he moves his thumb faster on your clit, angry that you let Tommy manipulate you into getting a rise out of Joel, just like he used to. He was using you as a pawn tonight.

“Got into so many damn fights over it. S’why my nose is a lil’ crooked. Tommy broke it with a punch, fightin’ about some girl I was seein’ in my twenties.” You frowned. Stop talking about your other girlfriends, Joel.

A quiet whimper left your lips as your pointer finger came up to brush along the light curve of his nose that you loved so much.

“Don’t feel bad for me, angel. I broke his goddamn arm for fuckin’ me over like that.” He had a dangerous smirk on his lips, one that you liked, one that made your heart race as he circled your clit even faster and started massaging your walls with his thick fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whispered, the heated coil in your tummy churning again out of the protectiveness and jealousy he felt for you today.

“He’s never met any of my girls since, so when I saw you walk into that bar..” he trailed off and started shaking his head. Your clit pulsed anxiously under the pad of his thumb, biting down harshly on your bruised and bloody lip. “Would never let him take you away from me. Never.” Your heart gushes for him.

“I’d never leave you, Joel,” you lightly whimpered, your body twitching and writhing under him. He shook his head and gently shushed you, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Your glassy eyes watched him in adoration, seeing crooked stars in your vision as you felt another orgasm heatedly approaching.

“Should’a told ya sooner. And you should’a stayed home. Listened to me for once,” He told you in a warning tone. You swallow the lump in your throat and gently nod, your thighs shaking against his legs that pinned yours wide open.

“S’why when I saw ya in the bar, knew I had t’take you home and make you mine, devil woman.” He muttered with a small smirk. The nickname made a desperate smile trickle on your lips.

“Yeah?” You said in a sheepish whimper, your walls fluttering around his fingers that were gently exploring your insides, leaving you so close to cumming again. It was too fast, and too damn hot in the room, but Joel was making you his, and that’s all you were going to focus on.

“So what d’you say?” He asks, raising a curious eyebrow.

“‘M sorry.” You muster up. “I-I’m sorry, Joel,” He’s got you panting for dear life as your thighs twitch while you near closer and closer to the edge.

He slowly shakes his head. “And what else, pretty girl?”

You cock your head and furrow your brows at him, unsure of what he wants you to say next.

“Say my name, tell me you love me again.” His fingers abandon your entrance and solely focus on pleasuring your clit, going so fast, too fast. His head comes down by yours, resting his forehead against your temple as your eyes force themselves closed.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper.

“Look at me, baby.” He whispers to you, placing light kisses by the corner of your eye to bring attention to him.

Your long lashes flutter on your cheeks before your fucked out face turns to Joel. “I love you, I love you, Joel, I love y-you- fuck,” you moan out loudly, throwing your head back and grinding your hips up into his hand. You do love him, the sick bastard that he was.

Your second release is only minutes from your last; it sparks you like a firework, and you feel your bones tingle. This man was not one to contend with. But you did anyway because you loved him.

You come down from being overstimulated. He plays this mean game where he grazes his fingers as light as a feather on different parts of your body, watching as your muscles and body twitch from being short-circuited.

“Fuck you.” You murmur.

His feet find the floor, his cock still hanging by his thighs, drenched in residual slick. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the faucet run. It rings in your ears, still trying to center yourself after being fucked to oblivion tonight.

You didn’t realize your eyes had fallen close until you heard his feet padding towards you as he approached with a warm washcloth. You hum softly gently wipes your face from his spit and your mucky mascara before he rotates the washcloth and wipes at the inside of your thighs. You’re still a little sensitive, you can’t help but let your face twinge.

He’s careful as he makes sure you’re clean, catching any residual spill. He tosses the washcloth into the laundry basket before he goes searching in your bag for something you can wear.

“Joel?”

He pauses his movements. “Already know what you’re gonna say.” You instantly smile and observe him. He was so handsome.

He stops looking through your bag for clothes and moves to his closet. He takes his time choosing what he wants you to wear, which makes you giggle a little bit from bed. You’re motionless, with no energy to move or even roll over. Barely enough to speak.

He settles on a Metallica band t-shirt, at least twenty years old, with the cotton perfectly soft and worn in. He moves to his dresser and fishes out a clean pair of boxers. They were the most comfy to wear, you had to admit. Panties were to show off your ass before sex. Boxers were for after all that was finished.

“You okay?” he whispers, to which you slowly nod. He’s always been so good with aftercare, even after a full day of arguing followed by a full night of fucking.

The boxers are soft as they coast up your legs, and he settles them on your hips. The band reads Calvin Klein. You muster up enough strength to sit up on your elbows, and he helps you put the baggy shirt on. It messes up your hair, and he tries to smooth it over, which makes you bubble up a laugh. “It’ll just get all messed up when we sleep, but thanks,” you whisper before falling back into his pillows once again.

Joel smirks widely before he lays down tiredly beside you on his front, like a big giant collapsing with a large huff. Your hand travels gently up his back, seeing the raised and jagged lines your nails had caused, your anger had caused. His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t let you know he’s feeling pain.

“Joel?” You whisper and work up the energy to shimmy closer to him, your foreheads gently resting together.

“Hm?” He murmurs.

You feel shy all of a sudden, still vulnerable. “Happy birthday, Joel. I love you.”

He slowly smiles, a sense of pride flooding his body as he pulls you in closer to him by your hip. He gently glides his thumb across your swollen bottom lip and kisses you lightly. “I love you, too. No matter how much of a brat you are.”

You slowly grin and close your eyes as your heads rest beside one another.

“Oh my god.” You mutter to yourself. Joel pulls his head away to look down at you.

“What is it, angel?”

You groan lightly and hide your face in your hands. “The cake! I left it out all day, it’s probably dry as fuck now!”

Joel lets out a puff of laughter, stroking your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. “S’okay, wasn’t gonna have any, anyway.”

“Yes, you were.” You huff, your finger gently gliding down his nose once more before you gently kiss the tip in adoration.

He hums softly at your decent behavior. “Good girl.”

---

masterlist

A reminder that I no longer use taglists!! to keep up with my writing, follow @hellishfics and turn on notifications to keep updated!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #hellishjoelrequest #joel miller x reader

1K notes · View notes

brnesblogposts · 1 month

Note

Hey

I had this idea and thought maybe you would like to write it, if not it's also okay!

How about reader finds out that Bucky likes plums and then surprises him with a plum pie. Bucky has a cute reaction and loves the surprise.

Thank you in advance 💗

This is so cute- I hope you like what i did!

Bucky x reader (fluff drabble)

————

Bucky was exhausted. He’d had a long day of team meetings and mission prep, the nagging of Steve still reverberating in his ears. He couldn’t wait to get home and relax with her in his arms. The thought of you put a smile on his face.

Unbeknownst to Bucky you were hard at work in the kitchen putting your mediocre baking skills to use. The other night Bucky had revealed his affinity for plums and how his Ma used to make a plum pie when he was a boy. Since that night you’ve had a plan to surprise him with something from his childhood.

The apartment smelt like pie crust and plums as you mixed all of the ingredients and poured the contents of the bowl into a pie dish already laid with pastry.

After a quick clean up and putting the pie in the oven you opened the windows hoping you could waft some of the smell out before Bucky got home, you needed him to be completely surprised. You had forgot however that he is a super soldier and has enhanced senses.

“Something smells delicious in here” His voice reverberated around the apartment as he closed the door behind him.

You quickly put a timer on and left the kitchen to greet him “Buck!” You wrapped your arms around him.

He could instantly tell you were up to something, he could read you like a book, “What’re you up to?” He narrowed his eyes and pressed a kiss to your temple as the two of you embraced.

“Nothing! How was your day?” You smile innocently and he continues to eye you up suspiciously.

“Same old, boring mission prep, Steve being a hard ass.. love the guy but sometimes he’s a real pain.” He let out a sigh as he got his day off of his chest and then “How was your day, doll?” He had his arms wrapped around your waist, chin on your head as he swayed with you.

“Not much to report.. I had to tell Alpine off for trying to scratch the couch that’s about it.” As if she heard you talking about her Alpine waltzed into the room and started weaving between Bucky’s legs.

“We’ve talked about this Alpine.. no scratching the furniture!” Bucky scratched between Alpines ears as he spoke sternly to the cat despite having a small smile on his face.

You heard a ding from the kitchen and whisked yourself off as Bucky was distracted by Alpine. He followed soon after with the fluff ball hot on his trail.

“Doll what are you-“ He was about to ask what you were being so secretive about but there you were with oven mits on holding a freshly baked pie that smelt awfully familiar “is that..?”

“Plum pie!” You gleamed setting it down on the counter.

“Sweetheart you made me a pie?” He came to stand behind you wrapping his arms around your front.

“Mhm” You nodded “I obviously don’t have your Ma’s recipe but-“ Before you could finish your sentence you were spun around and your lips were captured by his in a sweet soft kiss.

“Doll- This is so sweet. It’s made my week, thank you” He held your face in his hands and gazed lovingly at you.

“Just wanted to surprise you” You smiled “I hope it reminds you of your Ma even just a tiny bit.. I know you miss her” You say and he kisses you again before you reluctantly pull back.” Should we try the pie? Tell me if it holds a candle to your Ma’s?” You smile softly at him and he returns the gesture.

“It’s made with love the same way Ma used to make hers so i don’t doubt it’s delicious” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before you turned around to slice into the plum pie.

taglist- @ktgsoul @armystay89 @mostlymarvelgirl

(reply to be added!)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #writerblr #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x female reader

226 notes · View notes

doublekay · 1 month

Text

The Lost Boys riding in your the car with you would include:

Summery: This is just unhinged.

Warnings: GN reader! cussing, Paul and Marko being idiots. David being David. That’s it I think :D

If you manage to not get in a car crash with these idiots then you’re lucky.

If the boys want you to drive them somewhere like places where their bikes can’t reach or they just wanna spend some quality time with you, then great! The only problem is that these boys are fucking maniacs.

Say you all are just driving at night going nowhere in particular, just going where the wind takes you, ya know?

First and foremost, sitting placement. Who’s gonna sit where? Well David of course with be sitting in the passenger seat next you, probably placing a hand on your upper thigh.

Marko is sitting in the back on the left side, him being on the smaller side helping him have more room but not by much because Paul is in the middle of the back seat taking up all the room with his legs and big body.

Let’s not forget about poor Dwayne, poor dude is on the right side in the back shoved in the door with no space because of Paul but he’s a trooper and he’s just happy to be near you. <3

David is probably telling you which lane to go in and probably telling you to different directions just because.

You are driving on a backroad with no cars in sight, just having a good old late night drive with the boys, who are most definitely are causing trouble.

David keeps yelling at Paul and Marko to stop fighting over what music to listen to on the radio.

Dwayne slapping Paul upside the head.

Paul screaming like a girl and being dramatic because his brother slapped him.

David putting his hand up higher on your thigh and the boys getting jealous because they don’t have that luxury.

You will sometimes put your hand out for which boy with take it. Probably all of them, then them fighting for which one can hold your hand.

Probably you have to set like a five minute timer for each boy so they have a turn.

I can see Dwayne getting car sick and nauseousin the car.

Paul most definitely will be crawling through the armrest of the car between you and David to change the channel of the radio then Marko dragging Paul by the hair to stop him.

Dwayne trying to calm everyone down so he tries to play “eye-spy”

“I spy with my little eye something that won’t keep his fucking mouth shut”. David said whenever it’s his turn.

“Dwayne, I think he’s talking about you pal”. Paul said to him and Dwayne puts down the window and jerks Paul’s head out the window as Paul screams and Marko laughing in the background.

Marko would definitely tell you to go faster and tell you to put all the windows down.

Rock music will 100% be playing very loudly for everyone to hear.

Car karaoke for sure.

Paul probably sings “Guns N Roses” and try’s to hit every high note but his voice cracks every time causing you and the others to laugh.

Dwayne singing a slow love song to you in your ear and being a romantic boi.

Marko cheering the boys up when they sing.

You know David’s ass is not singing a single note.

If you sing then the whole car will actually get quiet for the first time since they have been in the car.

Whatever song you sang or if you are off key the whole time, they don’t care. They will be hyping you up the whole time and them all trying to seal a kiss on your cheek.

David most likely smoking a cigarette and Paul smoking a joint.

Marko waves at everything he sees out the window especially if there’s any animals.

if you decide to go though a drive through then good luck to you babe!

You pull up to the speaker and you order yours first, then you ask what everyone else wants.

David and Dwayne are fine about giving you their orders but Paul and Marko? Nah.

Paul with jump over poor Dwayne and put the window down and he’ll yell out what he wants and probably orders too much food and gets mad if the ice cream machine isn’t working!

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT ISN’T WORKING?! THE FUCKING THING NEVER WORKS YOU ASSHOLE!”

Dwayne has to jerk him out from the window and apologized to the worker.

Marko will probably get out of the damn car and just talk to the speaker like he’s having a normal conversation with a person.

The total is probably like 50$ bucks and you low key get nervous about the bill til Dwayne hands you a crisp 50$ dollar bill that he mostly stole.

You all eat your meals while sitting in the car in an empty parking lot while talking about different topics and things.

It’s calm and peaceful, the night sky is beautiful with stars and your car is full of all your mates.

Even though it’s chaotic in every way you wouldn’t change it for the world. You don’t drive them in your car often but when you do it’s always an adventure.

#tlb x reader #david the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys fanfic #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #david tlb #paul tlb #marko tlb #dwayne tlb #the lost boys fanfiction

260 notes · View notes

cumxfairy · 1 year

Text

synopsis: businessman!toji visits the strip club for the first time in his life and has quite the experience (short asf, testing this new format hehe)

businessman!toji who decided to say “fuck it” and go to the strip club with his coworkers this weekend instead of going home to his nagging wife and the six month old baby’s loud cries. his colleagues would always invite him, but toji constantly refused, as he was sure it would cause a strain in his marriage. this time, one of his coworkers and close friends, satoru gojo was able to convince him.

businessman!toji who is thoroughly impressed by the club’s interior design. he expected it to be trashy and stinky, but it was quite the opposite. his emerald eyes scan through the place and watch how men leaned back into the comfortable seats as the sexy, barely clothed dancers grinded on them and danced on the poles. “hm, not bad”

businessman!toji who’s friends try to talk him into requesting a private session on their tab. “since it’s your first time, y’know?” he’s hesitant as he glances at his friend’s blue eyes and then back up to the many women performing stunts on poles. his wife wouldn’t like this at all, but she isn’t here is she? “alright, get me a good one though”

businessman!toji who sits calmly in the dimly lit private room with his legs widespread and arms folded, awaiting his service. he slightly taps his feet to the faint music and decides to pour himself a glass of the high quality whiskey. one sip and he could already feel his tense muscles relax, which was perfect since his service had finally arrived.

businessman!toji who stares at you intently as you slowly make your way towards him. your body already had him thinking wild things. “so, first timer, huh?” the sultriest voice he had ever heard asked. he smirked at the young woman before him in her maroon lingerie set, which barely covered her private areas. her pussy lips were practically hanging out, the areoles around her hard nipples peaked through the thin fabric and her plump ass was on full display.

businessman!toji who can’t help but release some grunts here and there while you danced on him to the tune of a sexy, slow jazz song. he could feel your throbbing bud on his hardened bulge and your nipples grazing his torso with each smooth whine. “damn, how many men do you do this for? ya seem like a veteran..”

businessman!toji who’s had enough of your teasing and pulls out a hefty tip from his wallet, slides into the side of your thong and orders you to “take it off”, nodding at your bra. he chuckled when u instantly obliged “ what a money loving, obedient little whore you are.”

businessman!toji who’s aggressively sucking on your buds while his big, manly hands knead your ass cheeks. he enjoys hearing your pathetic whimpers and moans “oh yes daddy!” that one almost made his cock spring out of his slacks.

businessman!toji who has you in a deep arch as he drills into you on the black leather sofa. he holds both your wrists to your lower back with one hand as the other tightly held your head into the couch, muffling your cries and screams. the sounds of skin slapping, leather scraping and the dirty smell of your arousal have him in a daze, one that’s only contributing to his insane stamina.

businessman!toji who releases a thick load into your pussy without giving a fuck about a possible pregnancy “there you go, better fuckin’ take it all bitch”. he lets go of you and sits back, watching your pussy twitch and the liquids ooz out of it. “that’s good..”

businessman!toji who’s putting his clothes back on, not providing you with aftercare at all. this is your job, being nothing but a tool for his pleasure so why should he care? he takes more cash out his wallet and throws it at your sad, fucked out, cum filled body. “thanks, might come back with my friend next time.”

596 notes · View notes

kakapim · 30 days

Text

Playing devils advocate here.

I still think that Toichi being alive is ... a not very good idea, but... now that the shock has passed and I'm chill about it now, and have been rereading stuff... there Might Be Something Here.

My favorite theory about Toichi that saves his ass from being a completely shitty father is that the assassination attempt did not kill him, but DID leave him disabled somehow. Kinda of what happened to Kudo, except he wasn't shrunk.

That would explain:

1- Why he had to disappear for 8 years. I don't think Chikage could explain to a child that his father "had an attempt on his life and is now hiding" that would be hard to explain, and kids aren't the best at secret keeping.

2- Why Toichi left stuff behind for Kaito. Since he cannot perform magic tricks and parkour anymore, he let Kaito decide if he wanted to carry the mantle of being KID.

3-Why he still hasn't showed up. Remember that Kaito Corbeau was Chikage dressed as him, and in movie 27 is flashback from Yuusaku (as I've heard, I have not watched the movie). And he was dressed as Corbeau, so I guess we don't fully know how he's doing modern-day. Him being in Japan would be too much of a liability.

This stuff also explains why Kaitos room was timed. His door was going specifically open after 8 years, being 17, which is old enough to know the truth and not spill.

Interestingly enough, it seems this decision of making Kaito the Kid was not something Toichi and Chikage agreed on, judging by the fact she asked Kaito to stop being KID and move to Vegas (and the whole Corbeau fiasco) and seemed somewhat upset in the first manga chapter when she realizes Kaito had found out the secret room.

But despite all of this, it doesn't explain why Toichi couldn't have simply just... called him? Like once the door hit the timer, he could've just called the boy. Tell him "Hey son I am alive although not well. Yes, I was the thief KID. I dont know what you will do with this info but have fun I guess". Cmon. Unless the disability in question was amnesia or something.

The only thing that breaks this theory is the fact that apparently Corbeau has been making the rounds in Las Vegas... but as I said before, Chikage asked Kaito to come with her and get there. Which is curious... does she want Kaito to meet the real Corbeau? To know something that's been a secret? Def something to ponder about.

So yeah... Gosho might have burned the rice but he might be able to clutch this. What I'm saying is, while hating on Toichi is funny, perhaps we should be a little more patient to see what happens.

#Detective Conan #Magic Kaito #dcmk #Toichi Kuroba #yes im basically coping seething praying Toichi is not THAT bad of a parent. i actually really liked him as a character #detco #Kaitou Kid #theory #Also Chikage #now making your child a thief might not be seen as a good thing but this is an anime and theyre both outlaws anyway. they dont have the sam #thinking as other ppl ig #now that I think about it Toichi MIGHT have told kaito in the cassette he left for him that ended up breaking before he could hear it #but then that makes Chikage WORSE for not telling him lmfao

76 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Note

Hey, I fucking LOVE your work and I was wondering… do you remember the fic of bbg keegan? The ‘(Don’t) go to war’? Is there a part 2? And if there isn’t, can we please get one?

Have good day, person who feeds me with their fics (yum)

—When The Fighting Stops & The Silence Sets In

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Continuation of (Don't) Go To War: the aftermath of recovery and a budding relationship.] ❞

“You’re going to fall over, idiot,” you comment dryly to the man who struggles to walk across the room as he uses the wall as a crutch. Keegan and you were still recovering from the wounds of your previous mission—you with your shot shoulder and him his exploded side.

“Guess that means you can come over and help, huh?” Keegan grumbles, a glare meeting your raised brow.

“I wasn’t the one who decided to move around. I’m pretty comfortable over here if I do say so myself.”

“Gettin’ on my nerves again.” You smirk from the hospital’s reclining chair, head tilting.

The man was trying to get his exercise in, for whatever reason, and he found the best option for that was walking laps. You weren’t about to fault his instinctual nature as a soldier, but the way he’d gotten out of bed in only a hospital gown and uttered to you that he was ‘sick and tired of doing nothing’ was something that even a chocolate bar couldn’t beat right now.

Your smirk doesn’t leave. “I don’t know how you expected anything less, Russ.”

A scowl makes you snort.

“Keegan,” you level, “just take a breather, would you? You’re going to aggravate your wound and I’m not sittin’ through you grunting about your pulled stitches.”

“Can’t sit here any longer,” he grumbles. “Gettin’ antsy, Sweetheart.”

Your body nearly shivers at that. Sweetheart—that was a new one. You sigh softly, frowning.

All at once you stand and rub at the top of your sling, itching the strap before your feet pad over the tile to Keegan as his blue eyes shift over to yours. Your hand is leveled out in front of him, and after a moment he takes it, jaw clenched in the slight ache of his wound.

“You’re making yourself look old.” You state casually. “It’s embarrassing to watch.”

A dead glare is all you get before your eyes roll.

“C’mon, Old Timer, let’s get back to bed and I’ll call in your mashed potatoes for supper.”

“Stop it.”

“...What, do you want jello instead, I can ask for that no problem—” Lips are shoved to yours, severing the words from your mouth as you gasp; eyes fluttering wide before they fall back down like feathers.

Keegan kisses you heavily, his nose puffing breaths onto your cheek before he once more pulls back and stares at you.

“You need to know when to cut yourself off, Princes.” He smirks. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”

Your face is molten lava, and after a stuttering moment, you let him lean on you as you drag him back to bed.

“You’re a pain in my ass, Keegan.”

“Likewise.”

240 notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 6 months

Text

Christmas Cookies » Tommy Lee

December 8th

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Tommy Lee x Wife/Mom!Reader with daughter Violet

Summary: Tommy comes home to his wife and 5 year old daughter making Christmas cookies.

Warnings: Fluff, language, making out (18+), mentions of sex (18+), hugs and kisses, nicknames for daughter (princess, little rockstar), pet names (babe)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

“Can I use chocolate chips for the eyes and buttons?” Violet asks you.

“Of course you can, princess.” You handed her a bag of chocolate chips. “Try not to make a mess.” You tell her.

You set her up at the table with some cookies and the supplies she needed to decorate them. You went back to the kitchen to pick up where you left off.

“I’m home!” Tommy’s voice echoed through the house.

Tommy frowned when he didn’t see you and Violet greet him at the door like you two normally do. He walked to the dining room to see Violet sitting at the table and decorating cookies. He sat down next to her and gave her a kiss on the side of her head.

“What are you doing, little rockstar?” Tommy asked her.

“Decorating Christmas cookies.” Violet says, concentrating on the cookies she’s working on.

“What’s with the chocolate chips?” He asks, eating a couple of chocolate chips.

“I’m using them for eyes and buttons and creativity.” She tells him.

“Ok. I’ll leave you to it. Where’s mommy?” He asks.

“Kitchen.” She pointed towards the kitchen.

Tommy got up and went to the kitchen to see you making more Christmas cookies. He wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Hey, babe. Miss me?” Tommy says, kissing your neck

You turned around and kissed his lips.

“Of course I did.” You say against his lips.

Luckily you had a timer on for the cookies and you had a few minutes to yourself before putting the next batch of cookies in. Tommy’s hands found their place on your hips and pinned you against the kitchen counter. Your hands gripped his shirt to steady yourself. He moved his lips down to your neck, his teeth lightly grazing your skin causing you to gasp.

“Tommy.” You breathed. “Our daughter is in the dining room.” You remind him, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.

“Then I guess we have to be quiet.” He says.

His breath against your skin sent goosebumps through your body. He placed his lips back on yours and picked you up, placing you on the clear space on the counter. You wrapped your legs around his way and pulled him closer to you. You two didn’t even hear the little footsteps of your daughter enter the kitchen.

“Am I getting a baby sister for Christmas?!” She asks loudly.

You and Tommy quickly pulled away from each other. Tommy helped you down from the counter.

“I uhh… not right now, princess. Do you need anything?” You asked.

“More cookies.” She says.

“Ok. I’ll bring them to you in a minute.” You tell her.

“Ok!” She says, going back to the dining room.

You looked at Tommy to see a smirk on his face.

“What are you smirking about?” You asked him.

“We could give her a baby sister or even a baby brother for Christmas.” Tommy says, kissing your neck again.

“Tommy, we— fuck. Not right now.” You sighed. “Cookies now. Sex later.” You say, lightly pushing him away.

“Where should be do it this time, babe? Balcony? Hot tub?” He asks, pulling you in for another kiss.

“You choose.” You say against his lips.

Tommy’s hands traveled down your body, stopping at your ass and giving it a squeeze causing you to gasp.

“Mhmm! We need to stop before she walks in again.” You pushed him away. “Give these to Violet.” You say, handing him a plate of cookies.

Tommy took the plate from your hand and smacked your ass before leaving the kitchen. You giggled and went back to making Christmas cookies.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

-Bucky Doll

146 notes · View notes

deandoesthingstome · 2 years

Text

Wake Up Call

Word Count: 2463

Warnings: mild feelings of despair, comforting Sy, gentleman Sy, Sy’s liberal use of ‘baby’ and ‘sugar’ (but is that even a warning anymore? don’t we just expect it?), more smut, oral (both f and m receiving), fingering, cowgirl, missionary, doggy style, generous lube use (it’s a plot point, but IYKYK). Please let me know if I missed anything for you.

A/N: I couldn’t get dog trainer!Sy out of my head, so I moved you in with him and got straight to the sex. Ginger still has some behavior issues.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Captain Syverson or Sand Castle, but I do own these words, so please do not copy or repost as your own. Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are amazing.

You shut the door hard and sink to the floor as soon as you wrangle Ginger inside the house. Aika pads in from her spot in the living room and gives a quick hello sniff to G then turns her attention to you.

Her gentle nudges and G’s face licks and wiggly butt can't stem the hot tears of frustration beginning to stream down your face as you replay the scene over and over.

"That dog needs to be put down," the old lady hissed as she passed you on the path.

She'd stared straight at Ginger as you were trying to put her in place, but you couldn't collect your dog's attention before the woman made direct eye contact with her. Ginger went a little nuts, but you held fast to her lead, trying to back away slowly with a firm pull, no tugging or yanking. Just like Sy taught you.

"Sugar, back so soon?" Sy calls from the kitchen. "Dinner's almost ... baby, what happened?"

Sy drops to his knees on the ground next to you, touching your shoulder gently. You know what he's looking for as you feel his eyes sweep over you, even with your head hanging low.

"I'm fine. Nothing's broken," you sniff. "Just some mean old lady on the path."

"Someone say sumthin'?"

"She said I need to put Ginger down just 'cuz she growled at her. Didn't even lunge, Sy. I was so proud of her for a hot second but I didn't grab her attention fast enough and then the lady.."

"Fuck. That's Betty. She's a real piece a work. Dontchu listen to a thing she says. Woman's got a real hard-on for anything bigger’n a teacup." Sy unhooks G from her lead and gives her a good pat. "She don't even like Aika. Can you believe that?"

Sy sends Aika off and turns to sit next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and drawing you close.

"Come on, don't even spend another thought on it. You're doing great with Ginger. And there's probably gonna be some bad days. Happens to the best of 'em."

"Not Aika," you sniff again. "She's the perfect dog. Never goes nuts in public..."

Sy interrupts your self-pity party. "Baby, no need to compare. Ginger is her own dog. And she's got a different history you're trying to overcome."

"But.."

"No buts. 'Cept maybe this one," he smirks as he slides his hand down your back and under your seat, giving it a soft squeeze. "Now come on. We got one night before your trip and I made your favorite meal. Lemme wine and dine you outta this funk."

You lean closer to him, if that's even possible, amazed at the way this gruff, scruffy man can say the softest things to ease your troubled mind. He never makes you feel a fool for the way you handle your shit, especially with Ginger. He just waits for you to ask for help unless he sees a danger, and even then he's so respectful as he passes on advice. He never tells you what to do.

"I need a shower. Do I have time?"

"Can you make it a quick one? I think the timer's gonna go off in about 10."

You nod and let him help you up, relaxing into the bear hug he pulls you into. He kisses the top of your head, then gives your ass another squeeze and a pat.

"Now git. And put on something comfy," he smiles as you head down the hall.

You’re dressed and at the table in 15, foregoing a hair wash in favor of picking out something a little less comfortable. It is your last night with Sy for a bit, after all. The quick, steamy shower helped release the last bit of tension left after Sy calmed you down, and now you really want to make the most of the evening.

“Woman, did you just want to skip dinner altogether?” Sy exclaims, as you set yourself down at the table, meal already served on the plate in your space.

“What? Does this not meet the dress code for this restaurant?” you smirk back at him, smoothing your hands over the lacy camisole set you picked out. “You certainly seem a little overdressed.”

Sy scoots out his chair, stands, and tosses his napkin on the table. “That’s it. I’m sure glad to see you’re feeling good already. Let’s see how much better I can make it.”

You squeal as he scoops you out of your chair, tosses you over his shoulder, and heads down the hall. “What, no wine?”

“Later!” he promises, spanking your ass for good measure.

He treats you real nice in bed, though. Mouth on your pussy, just like he likes to start. Makes sure you're screaming his name before he lets you have any fun of your own with him. When you come down, you urge him on his back so you can sink down onto his hard, thick cock and ride him into another round of oblivion.

“You been practicing or something? Keeping in control while I’m up here just losing my damn mind?” you sigh, as you drape yourself over his chest and let him caress your back while you keep him warm and hard inside you.

“Just wanna be sure I can make tonight last, baby. Always love to see how many times I can getcha anyway,” he growls into your ear in a way that makes it easy for you to imagine it won’t take much longer for him to make good on that promise. “You ready for another?”

He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he flips you on your back, slipping out for just a moment so he can add a little lube and then repositioning to get the right angle. You sigh and moan into his ear while he slow-strokes you into another blinding explosion.

“Damn, sugar. I ain’t lasting much longer after that one.”

“Then don’t. C’mon, Sy. Lemme make you feel good too .”

You press his chest off you and urge him to roll over on his back while you prop yourself up on your side and take hold of his cock, slick with lube and your own juice. You pump him slowly a few times, watching with pleasure as he groans at the tease.

“Baby, you better do something more’n that or I’m gonna flip you over again and take care of this myself.”

You kiss him deep and hard to shut him up, dragging your thumb over his slit and pressing the edge of your forefinger into his sensitive spot, just below the head. He groans into your mouth again and before he can say another word you release his lips and bend over, taking him deep down your throat.

He mutters a “fuck” as he reaches to pull your hair out of the way so he can see you bob up and down, tongue dragging up and down his shaft. He lasts all of two minutes with you glancing sideways at him, catching his eyes and making sure he knows how much you love doing this for him, too. Then he pulls you off, tosses you back to position, rolls over, and slips back in, dragging his cock in and out with a reckless abandon.

When he’s done, he cleans you both off, and asks if you finally worked up your appetite. You are loath to leave the bed, but you are starving so you grab his t-shirt from the floor before he can. You slide it over your head, inhaling his scent as you head back to the dining room.

Sy follows close behind in just his boxer briefs and grabs the plates from the table to pop in the microwave.

You skip the wine though, knowing you have to be up early for your flight and not wanting to risk a hangover along with being sex-drunk. Sy sends you off to bed while he finishes stowing the leftovers and cleaning up the kitchen before he joins you. You sleep, but not well, too nervous about your upcoming trip.

You're awake for several minutes before you feel him skim his fingers over your bare skin, tracing the curve of your hip, up your ribs, under your breast. He cups the weight with a little pressure as he catches the nipple between forefinger and thumb.

"I know you're awake," he sighs into your ear, teasing the nub hard as he scoots his hips closer against you. "I got something for those nerves."

You let out a small scoff as your body responds without a thought, back arching and ass pressing into him.

"I need to sleep. It's a long travel day tomorrow," you whisper, even as you twist your arm back to catch his head and hold him close, feeling his lips and soft scruff trace along your neck.

"C'mon baby. Lemme have you one more time before you go." He scoots back a bit, making room to gently pull your shoulder and lay you down flat before sliding his hand down your belly and cupping your mound.

A small gasp betrays you as he presses a finger along the crease, searching for the moisture he knows he's provoked. He finds it and teases out more, circling your clit before dipping a finger deep.

"Sy..." you start to protest without a hint of resolve.

"You'll be gone a week. Lemme leave you satisfied."

"You did that last night. Quite a few times as I recall," you smirk even while lifting a leg to drape over his as you turn again towards him.

"Extra credit then."

You hear the smile in his voice, the one paired with the wink you can never resist, but a dull ache threatens to derail you.

"I don't think we used quite enough lube that last time," you admit with another whisper, this one against his lips before you lick into his mouth and search out his tongue.

"Mmm... I gotchu baby. Lemme just..." he presses you back, peeling your leg from his hip, then scoots down and over, working his shoulders between your thighs and forcing a bend to your knees. "Yeah, this'll work."

You trace the stubble on his head as he settles in, catching your pearl with his lips before letting his tongue drag through your folds.

"God, Sy..." you moan.

"Gonna make you feel so good, baby."

"Mmm, you always do," you end with a deep sigh as he sinks two fingers in beside his tongue. You let your knees fall open wider and undulate your hips slowly, meeting the languid pace he's set as he nibbles and licks and pumps in and out of you.

"More, please," you beg, already so worked up.

"Yeah, I gotchu baby. Knew you needed a little something more to keep you warm while you're away." His voice is seductive while his fingers keep stroking, searching and finding the most sensitive parts inside you.

"Love it when you do this," you reply, pulling him close again and making sure his lips latch on before you let go and grab the sheets.

He takes his time, knows exactly when to back off so you don't come too fast. He wants to make this last and give you a proper send off but you beg him to go faster, grinding your core up into his face.

He presses your hips back down, and with a soft chuckle, asks "You sure you don't want me inside you, sugar?"

You give in, then, pulling at his shoulders and searching for his mouth as he climbs up over you, arms braced on either side of your head. You feel the wet tickle of his beard and taste yourself on his tongue, wrapping your arms and legs around him, the heat from your pussy seeking him out.

"Yeah, I thought so," he growls into your ear. "Hold up, hold up."

He presses himself back to his knees, easily breaking your hold and reaches over to the nightstand. You hear a top pop and then a squeeze. You brace for the cool liquid, but he takes a few more seconds and when it hits, you realize he warmed it up between his fingers and you sigh again at this thoughtful, sexy beast of man who is now wrapping his lubed and slicked up hand around his cock, sliding slowly inside you before easing his chest back down against you.

"Feel good, baby? Need me to fuck you nice and slow for a bit?"

"Sy, I swear to god, if you don't start fucking me like you mean it, I ain't coming back after this trip," you tease, grabbing his ass and trying to work the piston into his hips.

He laughs and ignores you for a minute, taking his time, grinding low and slow as he captures your lips to shut you up now. His mouth is hungry against yours, tongues tangling and mapping out space before he pulls back, pulling gently on your lower lip to release a groan from you.

"Don't make idle threats, sugar. You know you couldn't quit me if you tried," he teases.

You wrap a leg around his hip again, no pressure, just making space for him to dig deeper while you hold his neck and kiss him back hard.

When you can't stand it anymore, you beg again.

"Sy, please."

"Whatchu want, baby, hmmm? Tell me."

"Fuck me, Sy. Please."

"Ain't that what I'm doing, sugar?"

You can hear the mischief in his voice. He knows exactly what you want right now but he wants you to tell him.

You press his chest back and scoot out from underneath him, flipping over and raising up on hands and knees.

"Fuck me, Sy. Don't hold back," you demand over your shoulder.

"Yes ma'am," he replies, like the gentleman he is. One more squeeze of lube, just to make sure he doesn't do any more damage than you're asking for, and you feel his hands on your hips dragging you back against him as he slams his cock into you full force.

He sets a grueling pace at the outset of this favorite position, knowing he'll pour a thousand tiny explosions into you before he gives you both that final shove over the deep end.

You collapse as he pulls out and drops beside you. Normally, he'd be up grabbing a warm, wet washcloth to clean you up, but he snuggles close and sighs heavily into your neck.

"Gonna miss you, baby."

"Me too," you turn to press your lips against his. "Me too, Sy. But I'll be back before you know it."

The wake up call is a bitch.

Tags: Hope this is still okay. I don’t know how many more of these I have, but please let me know if you want off or on.

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @kittenofdoomage @itsrubberbisquit @fvckinghenrycavill @daybreak96 @mollymal (sorry can’t tag you) @lysarria @lizzystuffsthings @kebabgirl67 @mysweetlittledesire

#captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson smut #syverson #syverson x reader #syverson smut #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #syverson fanfic #sand castle fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #dog trainer au #dog trainer!sy #mine #deandoesthingstome

673 notes · View notes

runningmunson · 2 years

Text

Birthday Cake

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word Count: 848

Summary: Eddie needs your help baking a cake for Wayne’s birthday.

Warning: swearing

You woke up to the sound of someone loudly banging on your door at 7 AM on a Saturday. You tried to ignore it at first and hoped the person would go away, pulling the sheets over your head and sinking deeper into the bed. However, the knocking continues. You let out a groan, throw the blankets off, and make your way to the door.

You open the door and there is Eddie’s smiling face. “What do you want, Edward?” you mumbled.

“No good morning? No I love you? No ‘I’m so glad my wonderful boyfriend came to visit me on this beautiful morning?’ Ouch,” Eddie said, putting his hand over his heart.

You roll your eyes at him. “You do realize what time it is?”

“Um yes, that’s why I’m here. You know it’s Wayne’s birthday, right?” Eddie questioned.

“Of course, I know that Eddie but I thought we weren’t doing anything until later tonight?” You groan. There is nothing you love more than your sleep and Eddie knows that.

“I wanna bake a cake for him and that’s where you come in. So get your ass in your room to change, we’re gonna go to the store, and then go to my place to make this cake,” Eddie demanded.

You sigh, “Eddie, why can’t we do this later?”

“Wayne gets home from work in 2 hours and I wanted to surprise him. I have no idea how to make a cake. (Y/N), please help me?” Eddie begged, getting on his knees and folding his hands.

“Eddie, get off the floor! You're lucky I love you. Just give me 5 minutes to get ready and then we can leave,” you laughed.

Your trip to the store was quick and you were now at Eddie’s trailer about to start baking.

“Okay Eddie, I’m going to teach you how to make a cake from scratch without burning it,” you said. As you were getting the ingredients together you turned around to grab the flour only to see Eddie wearing an apron. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Eddie shrugged, motioning to the apron. “It’s what all the hot chefs are wearing now.”

You laughed, “Really? Well then hot chef, let's get started. You wanna combine the flour, salt, and baking soda first.”

Eddie began to put the ingredients in a bowl when a thought popped in his head. “Hey, you have something in your hair.”

“What? Where?” you asked. Then Eddie took a handful of flour and threw it at your face. “Edward Munson! Are you serious right now? Your uncle will be home in an hour, we don’t have time for this!”

“Oh come on babe, it was fun-“ Eddie didn’t get to finish his sentence before you threw flour right back at him. Wiping flour off his face he said, “Okay, I deserved that. We can proceed now.”

“Thank you. Now you need to add the sugar, eggs, and vanilla, then we can mix it.” Eddie grabbed an egg and cracked it, but not without getting a few shells in there that you had to fish out because he said it was “too slippery.” The last egg he outright dropped on the floor, an oops slipping out of his mouth.

“The only thing we have left is to pour the mix into the pan and put it in the oven.” Eddie grabbed the bowl and started pouring it into the pan, batter getting everywhere. “Eddie! If you keep getting it everywhere Wayne isn’t going to have a cake at all!”

“Well why don’t you do it then!” he yelled. You grabbed the bowl from him, finishing up and putting it in the oven. As you wait, you and Eddie take turns scraping the bowl and eating what was left.

“Hey, you got some on your lip.” Before you could wipe it off, Eddie pulls you in for a kiss. He picks you up and places you on the counter, his body between your legs and your hands finding his hair. He slides his hands under your shirt, rings cold on your hips. Before you could begin to enjoy each other, the timer went off making Eddie groan. You grab an oven mitt and pull the cake out.

“Time to decorate! Wayne should be on his way.” Now you may be able to bake a cake, but neither you nor Eddie could decorate one to save your life. The cake had white icing pasted on and a sloppy ‘Happy Birthday Wayne!’ written on top in green. As you were making the final touches the door opened and in comes his uncle.

“Happy birthday Wayne!” You and Eddie both yell with big smiles on your face.

Wayne took in the sight of both of you. There was a broken egg on the floor, batter on the counter, Eddie wearing an apron, flour in and on both of your hair and faces, and icing all over your fingers. All Wayne could do was laugh and shake his head thinking to himself how perfect you were for each other.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine

1K notes · View notes

bussyslayer333 · 2 years

Note

🪐 “don’t you know what you’re doing to me?” Any character cos I cannotttt choose😍

i hope u like this!!

send me a prompt!!

pairing: bradley bradshaw x girlfriend!reader

word count: 0.5k

warnings: allusions to smut? this is more cute than smutty methinks

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bradley frowned as he rolled over in your shared bed, the weight of you usually pressing into his chest was missing. He rubbed his bleary eyes, adjusting to the bright morning light filtering into your bedroom. As he finally adjusts to being awake with one last groan and stretch, he picks up on something.

The faint sounds of one of your throwback playlists thumping downstairs. Bradley smiles to himself, realising this can only mean one thing. You’re spring cleaning.

Bradley jumps out of bed with a renewed vigour and makes his way downstairs, clad only in his boxers that he slept in. The sight he’s greeted with is truly something spectacular.

Your hair is piled on top of your head messily, your wearing one of Bradley’s old naval academy shirts that only just covers your modesty and if Bradley knows you well enough (which he does) he would say that he also recognises the black thong you’re wearing underneath the shirt.

Bradley observes how you dust along the picture frames that line the wall with a little feather duster whilst shaking your hips and singing along quietly to yourself as your playlist blasts out. Finally deciding to make himself known, Bradley walks up behind you and places his arms around you waist lifting you off of the floor in tight squeeze.

“Good morning, gorgeous girl.”

His kisses on the side of your neck tickle, the bristles of his moustache making you twitch in delight.

“Hey, handsome,” you counter, turning your head to kiss him properly and much too desperately for an early Saturday morning.

Bradley groans into the kiss, setting you down so his hands can move to grope your ass. His suspicions are confirmed as he feels the lack of fabric covering you. He pings the thin side of your thong and murmurs into your mouth,

“Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?”

You giggle in response and pull away from the kiss. Bradley watches as you bend over to pick up the feather duster that had clattered to the floor after he’d scooped you up. His low groan makes you tingle in excitement, even more so when his hand lands against your ass cheek in a light smack. You pull back up and look at him in mock shock, first taking in how awfully handsome he looks, even after just rolling out of bed.

“Is that how you mother taught you to treat women, Bradshaw?”

Bradley smirks at your teasing tone, “No, it’s how my dad did.”

Bradley let’s a laugh fall out of his mouth as he hears you mumble something about “Maybe Mav did.”

He trails behind you as you wander into the kitchen, hands encircling themselves around your waist as you get to work making breakfast. Gasping lightly at what you feel when you bend over to open the cabinet holding the plates.

“Baby seriously? It’s 8 am.”

Bradley sighs melodramatically, “My love for you has no timer!”

You roll your eyes and go to tease him further when he grinds his hips up into yours, stilling any words that were going to leave your mouth and replacing them with a whimper.

“Breakfast can wait?” Bradley questions as he nips into the side of your neck.

“Breakfast can wait.” You hum in agreement.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: brad being my boyfriend in 4k for u guys x

i rarely write about rooster considering miles teller was my og boyfriend

i was in the divergent trenches guys it was tough 😭😭

anyways i loved writing this and i love bradley bradshaw

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun smut #miles teller

783 notes · View notes

gallonofgoldfish · 23 days

Text

Flowers and Fireworks

Returning to business as usual on the ranch is hardly monotonous with Abby around. New faces and old trails make for good company, even if it means getting sidetracked.

Pairing: cowpoke!abby x reader (sort of)

Content: established relationship, brief cowboy ellie, fluff, poor attempts at writing southern accents (i dont even think theyre in the south), reader isn't described, sort of a part two?, author needs a cowboy partner asap, i know less about horses than before, i don't think any warnings apply

A/N: the brainrot is brainrotting. i wanted to write cowboy ellie but then got distracted by both abby and the excitement of a motor vehicle. had a very specific song stuck in my head while writing this but now icant remember what it was (something colter wall??). anyway hopefully this is a fun read even tho its not too eventful (and also was not proofread lolz). planning to have more ellie in the next part if it ever gets written bc we're going to the CLERBBBB

WC: 1508

You haven’t met her yet, but you’ve felt the tension in the air like something’s about to snap into place.

She’s the rookie. The new kid. The hotshot from some bigger, richer ranch further west with a reputation that stirs more talk than her name—whatever it might be. She’s the racer on the back of a chestnut mare in a denim jacket with rolled-up sleeves and workboots that must’ve lost their shine long before she came here.

And she’s lunging in the ring outside the stables, faded black hat crooked, casting a stubborn shadow over the leafy tattoo wrapped around her forearm. Choppy brown hair brushes her shoulders and burns a color like coffee in the dying sunlight.

Not that you care. You’ve got places to be, and she’ll fall in with the rest of the wranglers eventually.

Gravel crunches some ways down the road behind you, but Abby doesn’t kill the ATV’s engine in time to sneak up on you completely. She comes coasting down the dusty path, toothpick hanging from the corner of her mouth as she grins sideways at you and rolls to a stop.

“You talk to ‘er yet?” she asks, and the sun flashes over the lenses of her aviators when she tilts her hat out of the way.

“Not yet. You?”

Abby shakes her head. “Heard she ain’t done too much talkin’ to anyone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” You plant your hands on your hips and nod. “What else’d you hear?”

“Well, what’d you hear?”

“I asked you first.”

She bites down on her bottom lip, jerking her head at you. “Get over here and I’ll tell you.”

“You’re an ass,” you tease, but hop up onto the quad’s grate so your back leans against hers.

“What, I get one record and you think we’re some big-timers?” Abby scoffs, nudging you with her shoulder. Her braid shifts in the humid breeze. “We got work to do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” is all you mumble as the ATV purrs back to life and jolts towards the barns in the distance. “Tell me what you heard.”

“Not much,” admits Abby. “I mean, not much you don’t already know. She’s got just about the same story as the rest of us. Some ribbons under her belt.”

Dust kicks up from the tires, funneling right past the mudflaps to gather on your jeans. “She got a name?”

“Relax. I’m gettin’ there.” Abby leans to the side to shoot you a skeptical, if halfhearted, glance. “What’re you tryin’ to get under her belt, too?”

“Abby.”

She laughs, then turns her focus back to the road. “Ellie,” she finally says. “Ellie Williams.”

“Alright.” The smell of fuel mingles with the freshness of the tallgrass scrolling by on either side, either one a welcome break from the tinge of manure drifting in from the neighboring fields.

“Just alright?”

“Well, what the hell else am I supposed to say?” you ask. “I don’t know the girl.”

“I got a good idea.” The engine cuts again. The two of you come to a stop in the shadows just outside one of the stables, before the open sliding doors that stare right out over the mountains. Abby twists to look at you head-on. “How ‘bout you just tell me when we’re good to go?”

----------

“Y’know—” Your nose crinkles as you squint against the sun, shifting in the saddle with every step the horse beneath you takes. “I thought Manny was helpin’ you with this run.”

It’s muscle memory—tacking, adjusting, swinging up into the seat. Practiced. Routine. But it never gets old. Not the cool tones of the mountains shattering the skyline on the far side of the valley, or the steady gait of the horses as they fall into step beside one another. And definitely not Abby.

“He was,” she confirms. One hand holds the reins while the other settles her sunglasses on the brim of her hat. “‘Til he got busy.”

“With?”

The corners of her eyes crinkle with a smile. “The usual.”

“Sure.” You raise a brow. “And who’s the usual this week?”

“Beats me,” says Abby with a shrug. “Long as it ain’t you, it ain’t my problem.”

“Speak for yourself. The last usual kept leavin’ him notes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. In the wrong fuckin’ bunk.”

Another grin creeps across her lips as she looks back. Gold falls over her freckled face, flooding the scar on her cheek with light.

“A little light readin’ never hurt nobody,” she teases.

“You think?” You tilt your head, unable to avoid the same expression writing itself into your features. “Then next time—”

She’s drawing away, picking up pace.

“Hey, now,” you call, but she doesn’t seem to hear. You nudge your horse’s side to urge them on. Still, though, Abby’s got a good lead. She passes under the low-hanging branches of the trees bordering the path, through a set of rusted iron gates.

Then, she flicks the reins and takes off.

“Abby!” you shout, and with no choice left but to do the same, chase after her.

A cloud of dust stirs up behind her, but you ride right through it, and soon, the trail falls away.

“I thought you said you got work to do!”

She laughs, easing up and straightening to drop back and match your pace when you slow. Tallgrass rises on either side of the makeshift path—trampled dirt and dust and the curled-up bodies of flowers unlucky enough to fall into the path of passing hooves.

“We do,” she says. “That don’t mean we can’t take our time.”

“It’ll be dark soon, yeah?”

“Not that much time.” Abby rolls her eyes and smiles. “We’re just takin’ the scenic route.”

“You know where we’re goin’?” you check.

“Just c’mon.” Turning back to the trail ahead, she nudges her horse to a quicker gait. The unbuttoned front of her flannel flutters around her, giving way to the thin white tank top underneath.

The ground slopes down, further into the field, as the sun fades over the jagged peaks. Through the yellowed straw and the waves of rippling green, pops of color appear where bright flowers have pushed through the soil and bloomed.

“You ever been this way before?” asks Abby.

You shake your head. “Not that I remember.”

The field is glowing, burning under dusk’s light. She’s glowing with it.

“Well, then.” She shoots you a wink. “You’re in for a treat.”

Just like that, she’s off again.

The rough path winds down the ridges in the hill, between weeping trees with lazy, swaying branches that force you to duck. Over wooden planks laid out across the marshier parts of the lower pastures and a bridge where a dried-up river leaves a gash in the ground. Back up another slope, another patchy flower field, another grove.

Until Abby stops to look back at you.

The Ranch sprawls over the acres of land before the two of you, windows lit in the bunkhouse and the barns and lanterns burning alongside the settled paths. The dark shapes of other hands wander like ants across the grass, while the mingling shadows of cattle fill the squares of plains just below.

“Wait,” Abby urges. The horses paw boredly at the dirt, but, like you, remain in place as the warm summer breeze snakes around you. “Heard about this from a friend last time I was in town.”

You shoot her a curious glance.

“Don’t look at me.” She waves you away, grinning, and points towards the horizon instead. “Over there.”

The first stars are peeking through the bluish parts of the sky, just where it meets the hills. There’s a flash. A burst of red sparks.

“Fireworks?” Even from afar, their light unfurls over your face.

“Sure are.” Abby falls silent as the bang from the explosion crashes, muted, through the valley. “They had some leftovers from the fourth.” She sighs, then asks: “Some view, ain’t it?”

Another smattering of colorful bursts erupts over the hills. Another chorus of pops thunder over the grass. The sky changes from one color to the next, smoke gathering in thin gray wisps along the skyline, before you look away.

The lights dance in the lenses of Abby’s aviators where they’re still sitting on her hat, but don’t quite reach her eyes. She hasn’t been watching the fireworks at all; she’s been looking at you instead.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning over to kiss her. “Some view,” you say against her lips.

“Anyway—” Clearing her throat, she straightens, then jerks her chin towards the cattle in the field below. “Race you down there.”

“Hey—”

But she’s already gone. Racing back down the hillside, still bathed in the far-off lights.

“You’re gonna owe me a drink!” she calls, though she’s already dropped out of view.

After a last glimpse at the fireworks blooming over the ranch, you pick up the reins again and turn to follow.

The flowers and the fireworks blur, blooming and bursting against the shaded countryside. Lining the hills and lighting the sky and leading you.

Leading you right back to her.

#abby tlou #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #tlou2 #cowboy abby #cowboy ellie #abby anderson fic #tlou2 fanfic #save a horse ride a cowboy

31 notes · View notes