#anyway gonna make an early dinner now. good ye

[ggidolsmuts]

Good Girls in the Dark - Choi Yena

"Hello, I'm Choi Yena, nice to meet you!"

"Omo son why didn't you tell us your girlfriend is so pretty?! Come in come in!" Your mom quickly leads Yena into your home, who's already locking arms with her. "Finally you bring someone back for Chuseok!" she looks back at you and admonishes. You simply shake your head and follow them in.

"You look so young, I thought you were oppa's sister!"

"Oh stop it, you have such a sweet tongue!" 

Yena's a good girl.

At least, that was your initial impression when you met her for the first time—it was supposed to be a Yuehua flex, having Yena drop by to say hi, to congratulate everyone on the successful joint project between Yuehua and your company. Mindful and demure, she was considerate of everyone, smiling and greeting all of you like the energetic idol she is.

True to her energy, she insisted you all go to a club for the afterparty, but the group soon diffuses into the crowd—some people left almost immediately, others stayed for a few drinks, and yet more broke off into their cliques. You try to sneak out too, until Yena somehow gets a hold of you, pulling you into a dark corner of the club. She has a drink in hand, but by now it is empty save for a few drops of whatever she had.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" she demands to know.

"What? I haven't!"

"Don't lie, I saw you sneaking looks." You were, but you didn't think Yena would notice, that you would just blend in with your co-workers.

"How would you know?" you fire back.

"Because I've been looking at you too." It must be the alcohol in Yena talking, for she smashes her lips into yours, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. She does have a sweet tongue. "Can I trust you?"

"You should have asked me that before you kissed me."

"Oops, oh well. Now answer the question."

"Yes."

"Good, I don't want to go home tonight," she breathes into your ear.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

"So how did you two meet?" your dad asks during dinner.

"At work! I was at an event for our company, and he was there! He was very nice to me."

"That's all it took? My son is good!"

"Dad don't," you mutter, shaking your head and leaving the table carrying your dishes. At least Yena didn't say it started with a hookup, or your parents would have had an aneurysm. The one night stands became more frequent, and your apartment became a place for stress relief for Yena.

Over time the two of you ended up spending equal amounts of time talking and fucking, and both of you finally gathered the courage to give in to your feelings and agree to start dating—to be fair, neither of you were seeing anyone else anyways, so exclusivity wasn't a discussion that needed to be had. Ironically the dating aspect wasn't really a thing either—Yena was an idol, so any dates you two had were just at your place.

"What? Our son is so charming, he found a celebrity girlfriend! And she eats so much too, I thought you would be dieting or something, I was afraid I made too much!" you hear your mum say.

"No no, that's just a stereotype, I eat more than he does!"

"That's great, you eat so well!"

Yena's a good girl.

~~

"Fuck, you eat me so well," you moan as Yena slurps you, tongue running up the underside of your shaft. It's early in the morning, the sunlight just peeking through the curtains. You can barely make out the shape of Yena in your sleepy haze, but you can definitely identify her by her tongue and hands.

"Because your cum is so delicious!" she says as she strokes you, eager for her morning cum-ffee. "I can see some of it already!" She licks your tip, swiping up the dripping precum. Yena's hungry for more, and she goes deep on your cock, taking all of it in easily. The loud sloppy noises she makes are the lewdest alarm sounds you've ever heard, and your favorite by far.

"Oh fuck, Yena, I'm gonna cum!" There is no holding back your orgasm, and your hand finds itself in her hair, pushing her down like she was an alarm clock. You thrust up involuntarily, and Yena hums as you hit the roof of her mouth, feeling you surrender in the form of a thick morning load sliding down her throat. Yena's eyeing you as you come down from your peak, making sure you're fully drained before she let's you go with a pop.

"Thanks, I gotta go now."

"Wait, I need something for the morning too no?" You wiggle your eyebrows and Yena laughs.

"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," she sighs theatrically and slides up your body. You expect her to remove her pants and underwear, but she's already naked from the waist down.

"Tch, you were expecting it weren't you?"

"I knew you would repay the favor." She pushes herself onto your face.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"Auntie, do you need help with the dishes?"

"Oh no no no you're the guest, you can't be helping with the dishes!"

"I don't mind, besides it makes the dishes go by faster!"

"You see son, why can't you be more like Yena?"

"I live by myself, I do the dishes back home already!"

"I don't care, come help us with the dishes or else!" your mom threatens.

"Fine."

"God it's like I have to beg you to do the dishes, at least Yena's so polite and well-mannered, offering to help!"

Yena's a good girl.

~~

"Please sir."

"What do you want me to do Yena?" you ask the naked idol bent over your lap.

"Spank me."

"What's the magic word?"

"Please spank me." You reward her with a hearty slap across her ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. Yena yelps before thanking you.

"Good." You rub her cheek to soothe her before slipping your hand between her legs—she's dripping. Carelessly you run a finger along her pussy, letting her wetness coat it before wiping it on her. Yena squirms, and you wrap an arm around her midriff, holding her flush against your body, trapping her. Yena takes a deep breath and relaxes, going limp briefly.

"T-Thank you." It made her feel taken care of—she can let her mind go blank, let the pleasure take over, leave everything to you. But you tease her, rubbing her slit as you stroke her head, petting her like you pet a cat, or a duck perhaps. All while she can feel your erection poking her from below. Yena's little gasps and moans get louder and more frequent, breathing heavily over your lap as you continue.

"Please put it in." You push two fingers in, and Yena clenches immediately around them. You push Yena forward on your lap, bending her over one thigh to give you better access to her pussy. Yena's almost folded in half over your leg, blood rushing to her head as she watches her own toes curl uncontrollably due to your fingering. You dig deep, bending and twisting your fingers, as if trying to find the last cookie crumb deep inside Yena's jar. You do find what you're looking for, and Yena's the cookie that crumbles.

"R-Right there!" Beneath you Yena's face is red, both from pleasure, and from the little droplets she sees appearing between her legs. "Wait oppa, I'm going to make a mess—"

"Oppa?"

"I mean, ah! Sir, sorry sir, wait, stop!" You dig a little harder, a little faster, and it becomes a stream of liquid pleasure, leaking down her leg and dripping off Yena's toes.

"Manners Yena."

"Puhlea—" Before she can get the second syllable fully out you press her sensitive clit with your thumb and Yena chokes out a desperate cry, drenching your hand in her slick as she cums hard. Yena claws at your leg, gripping it tightly while she splashes over you. You help Yena right herself, but her legs are weak, and she sits in a puddle of her own juices as she lays her head on your thigh, breathing shallow and labored. You lay a hand on her cheek, and she turns to kiss it, as if soothing herself on you. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at you, before looking to the tent you're pitching in your pants.

"I want you," she whispers, managing to push herself up and pull your shorts off. Her hands go to your boxers, but you stop her.

"Are you forgetting something?"

"Please." Yena says it like an afterthought, removing your boxers and getting in your lap—her slick covered legs are spreading it everywhere on your couch. She tries to sink herself on to you, but you shift your hips, making her miss. "Come on!"

"Say it like you mean it."

"Please, I need you in me." She grabs your cock, her hands wrapping around your length. "I need something thick in me, my pussy needs something to... grip!" She twists her hands, squeezing you tightly. You let her position you at her entrance, and your cock twitches a little as a few more drops of slick land on your shaft.

"Please give me your cock," Yena whispers before kissing you needily.

You slam her down on you.

"Oh fuck!"

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"Yena do you drink? Are you allowed to?"

"Oh yes of course we are allowed to, I'll have whatever oppa has."

"Okay I'll go get the beer."

"No dear, get the ginseng wine."

"Should I?" Your dad nods emphatically.

"We're all becoming one family here, we can break out the good stuff and celebrate!" You know exactly where this is going as your mum brings the wine.

"Dad no don't do that!" You grab Yena's hand in apology. "Sorry."

"No no, I'm sure Yena doesn't mind! All we're saying, your mum and I, is that we would approve of whatever you two want to do in the future. Get married, have kids, you know, whatever you want!"

"It's okay uncle, I understand, thank you for being so nice to me and making me feel so welcome! We haven't really talked about our future, but it's good to know we have your support!"

"Good, see, that's a sensible young woman! Cheers!"

Yena's a good girl.

The operative word there is "really", because you two have certainly talked about your future together.

In bed.

In the heat of the moment.

While you're deep in Yena.

~~

"How many kids should I put in you, how many do you want!" you grunt as you thrust down into her, feeling her clench around you in response. Yena's legs push uselessly against your arms, your elbows locking her knees down in a mating press.

"As many as you want, fuck! That's so deep!" Her arms have a stranglehold around your neck, keeping you close, her flexibility allowing you to kiss her even as you fuck her in the uncompromising position. Yena's tits jiggle as you pound into her, a lewd visual of just how hard you're thrusting.

"B-Breed me, breed me harder!" It was a kink that Yena let slip once, and since then you've indulged her, joining her in enjoying the thought, relishing the feel of fucking Yena raw each and every time.

"Fuck I'm going to cum, you better keep count!" you shout as you slam down into her with finality, letting loose multiple shots into her. Yena seems to go over the edge with you, clenching around your pulsing cock, lips mumbling incoherently. You collapse on top of her, burying yourself against her neck, kissing her lovingly and cuddling her. It is a little later before either of you are able to speak.

"Five, I counted five shots earlier," she murmurs into your ear, tickling you.

"That many?"

"Mmhmm, I must have drained a lot out of you, hm? Poor oppa." Yena jokes, pinching your cheek. But she pushes you on your back and gets on top of you. The sight of your load leaking out of her is enough to get you to half-mast, and her words get you the rest of the way there.

"Let me do the rest of the work. We have to contribute equally to get me knocked up." She slides her cream-filled warmth over you.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"I'm done showering!" Yena announces to you as she joins you in the guest bedroom.

"Great, let's get some rest, it's been a long day." You pull the covers over the two of you and hold Yena close. "Thanks for coming here with me."

"Of course, your parents are so nice!"

"They got a little too excited about meeting you, sorry."

"No no it's okay, I like it, they're fans of me, because of you!"

"I guess." You kiss the top of her head, ready to sleep. Yena is not though, and she slips her hand under your t-shirt.

"Haven't I been a good girl today? Shouldn't you reward me?"

"Yena..." you start.

"I didn't tell them we started dating after multiple hookups together. I didn't tell them we do it raw all the time. I didn't—"

"You really want to have sex here, tonight?" Yena nods and throws a leg around you, and to your surprise she's already very wet.

"Just the thought, you know? Being part of your family, us being a family, starting a family. And I heard ginseng wine is good for you too, get the blood flowing." You know exactly why Yena's so wet now. "I-I even brought towels from the bathroom. I'm going to make such a mess." She says it like sex is a foregone conclusion.

"You're going to have be really quiet, I know how loud you get when you want me to breed you."

"That's what the other towel is for." She scrunches the towel up and bites down on it, looking at you pleadingly.

Yena's a good girl, but Yena's your good girl in the dark.

A/N: Just something quick and dirty, the whole "Good Girls in the Dark" song from her just gave me the idea lol. Right before her next comeback heh, maybe there's another "dirty" title there hopefully, or I'll just make it dirty as usual. Thanks for reading!

[luveline]

could you write bombshell!reader getting a tattoo of spencer’s name or something that reminds her of him and his reaction please?

“Why are you kissing me?” you mumble, your voice hoarse with sleep. 

They’re light kisses. “I’m going now,” Spencer says, matching your quiet tone. 

“No.” 

You wrap your arm behind his neck and feel his hair against your wrist. His nose and lips warm your jaw. 

“Yes.” He kisses your jaw. “I have to go, but I didn’t wanna leave without a kiss.” 

That’s really sweet, he’s so sweet, you’re so tired. “Please don’t go, Spencer.” 

“I have to go.” He readjusts your hugging to hum against your temple, distinctly content despite your pleading. “I’ll be back by six for dinner, promise.” 

“Promise,” you say.

You get to keep him for a few minutes, regardless. His neck must sing bent as he is over you but he doesn’t relent, doesn’t move until you encourage his face back to kiss just under his bottom lip. “Sorry, I’m making you late,” you whisper. 

“No, no, I accounted for this. You’re on my agenda.” 

“How much time did you allot?” you ask through a smile. 

“Seventeen minutes. That’s how long we usually hug in the morning.” 

“Gotta get that time down,” you say. 

“Or up.” He holds your face. You turn your head into his touch and keep him for just another half a minute. 

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes flutter closed again, “you can leave, I’m gonna go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea.” He kisses you, and he says goodbye. You’re sleeping again before he’s even left your room

When you wake properly, you still feel loved, like a sunburn but with less stinging. There’s something very special about your boy; something permanent about the way he loves. You can’t imagine he’ll ever stop loving you like this, he’s embedded you so deeply into his life and his routines (and you’d beg him to keep you if he ever changed his mind). That in itself is crazy. You can’t have imagined begging a guy to let you stay, but for Spencer, you would.  

When he comes home that night, half an hour before six, you have no regrets. 

You hadn’t noticed how he was dressed when he left, but he looks lovely in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. Remarkably casual for him, you used to think he only wore t-shirts to bed, but the older he gets the better propensity he has for comfort. What makes it for you is the cardigan. 

“You look nice,” you praise, more than satisfied when the first thing he does after he takes off his shoes is lean down to hug you where you’re sitting on his couch. 

“Thank you.” He pats your back and pulls away. “You’re beautiful,” he says with ease, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Good day?” 

Your lips pucker into a twist. 

“What?” he asks. 

Unfortunately, he sounds deeply worried. 

“No, it’s nothing, I just hurt my arm. Can you have a look?” 

Spencer takes your arm. “What did you do?” he asks, pulling the sleeve of your shirt carefully up to your elbow. The Saran wrap confuses him, until it doesn’t, and he grins at your skin, before frowning again. His flickering emotions worry you, until he says, “Is that mine?” 

You hold your arm in the light. “Of course it’s yours?” 

It’s just a few words from a note he wrote you, perhaps too soon into your relationship for sweetness, and yet one you kept anyways. He told you the story of the I Love You lighthouse, or rather, the Minot Ledge lighthouse, and how the man who lived there had to live on a different island to his family while tending the lighthouse, so he would flash the light once, then four times, and then three times, one flash for every letter of each corresponding word: I love you. The note was left on your dresser. You’d slept together the night before, but he had to leave early. Nowadays he wakes you up, but  back then he’d been too shy. 

I want to be able to do that for you but I can’t find a lighthouse in D.C. that will let me in to try. I’ll keep looking. 

“I’ll keep looking,” Spencer reads. His thumb heistates just under your small font.

“It’s from that note you left me.”

“I know, I remember.” He does his awful frowny face where his eyelids lower and you're sure he’ll never smile again, he looks that upset. “You know this is permanent?”

“They do tend to be,” you say with a lovelorn sigh. 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should kiss you, or hug you, or… I don’t know why you’d do this.”

“But it’s okay?” you ask. It could make for a very awkward conversation if he doesn't like it.

“It’s perfect.” He holds your gaze. “You’re perfect.”

He acts like your tattoo is a gaping wound as he moves in to hug you, careful of your new ink, but relentless in the tightness of his arms behind your back. You laugh, then squeal at his insistence, a giggly girly thing that nobody else should ever hear but him. He doesn’t make fun of you, just squeezes you to him, his face pressed so hard to yours you can feel his cheekbones. 

“Now I just have to say something romantic for you to get tattooed and we’ll be equal again.’

“So we aren’t equal?”

“Um, no way.” Your laugh is self-satisfied and breathless. You turn your lips to his cheek. “I love you. I’m gonna build you a lighthouse.”

“Can’t believe you kept that note.”

“I have a whole shoebox of them. I love that you write them.”

He stops holding himself up, half on the couch and half in your lap as he hugs you with every bit of strength in his arms.

[seungkw1]

pretty little present — smg

♡ pairing: bf!mingi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut ♡ wc: 2.5k ♡ warnings: dom!mingi, sub!reader, size kink (obviously), reader wears lingerie, mingi picks up reader and carries them, masturbation (f. & m.), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), multiple orgasms (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), dacryphilia, possessiveness, creampie, reader gets one (1) hickey, pet names (princess, doll, babygirl), great aftercare, fluff ending ♡ a/n: i don’t normally write atz but bestie @myhimbomingi requested a mingi fic and i absolutely said yes!! i had such a fun time writing him hehe

The soft light of early dawn filters through your eyelids as you slowly drift into consciousness. You roll over, flopping your arm over your sleeping boyfriend to snuggle up next to him - but your hand hits nothing but the bedsheets. You sleepily pry your eyes open to see his side of the bed vacant. You grab your phone to check your texts - sure enough, you have a message from Mingi, sent at 6:14am:

good morning babe :) sorry to leave without saying goodbye but i didnt wanna wake u, u looked so cute!! i had to leave early for work today but i promise i’ll make it up to u! i left u a present on the counter, we’ll put it to good use tonight ;) love you ❤️

You were planning on going back to sleep, but now you're simply too curious. You hop out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. There, on the counter, you see a flat, gift-wrapped box - creamy white in color with baby pink ribbons tying it together. Whatever it is, it looks expensive. You untie the pastel bow and remove the lid. Underneath several layers of crisp white tissue paper, you find your present: a lingerie set. 

The set is jet black, made of silky mesh adorned with lace and satin ribbons. It’s light as a feather, buttery soft to the touch - clearly a luxury item. You've never worn anything like it in your life, but it's beautiful. 

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend. 

got your gift, hurry home to me ;) 

The typing bubble immediately pops up. Within seconds he responds. 

i will baby 😘

The day passes at an annoyingly slow pace. You didn't have much to do today anyway, so you try to occupy yourself with chores, but you can't help daydreaming about what all Mingi will be doing to you later. 

Finally, evening rolls around - Mingi will be home soon. 

You take a quick shower to freshen up, afterwards donning your new lingerie set. With all its various straps it takes you a few minutes to even figure out how to get it on, but once you do you step in front of your full length mirror to check it out. You knew it was gonna be really pretty on, but you look fucking hot. You start thinking about how feral it's going to make Mingi - quickly ruining the delicate panties at the mere thought of him. 

You grab some leggings and a big tshirt and throw them on. Another peek in the mirror verifies that you can't tell what you're wearing underneath the comfy clothes - all the more perfect to surprise him with. 

A few minutes later, you hear the sound of the front door being unlocked and opened. 

“Babe, I’m home!” Mingi calls out. 

You flutter on over to meet him, practically skipping as you jump into his arms. He pulls you in for a big kiss, placing his large hand on the back of your head, petting your hair softly as he holds you tight against him. As his lips depart from yours, he smiles, gazing at you with pure love. 

“I missed you,” you tell him as you place your hand on his chest. 

“I missed you too,” he replies as he kisses your forehead. 

“Soooo,” he starts as he tosses his bag down and kicks his shoes off. “What do you say we try out your new present?”

“Already?” you reply coyly. “Don’t you wanna eat dinner first?”

“It can wait,” he says as he lightly grabs onto your chin. His voice turns low and rumbly. 

“I’d rather eat you.”

You giggle. “Well somebody's horny.”

“I've been thinking about you all day - thinking about how good you're gonna look in your gift.” He strokes your jaw with his thumb. “Gonna be my pretty little present.”

He grabs the hem of your tshirt, starting to pull it off of you. 

“Why don't we get you out of these clothes already and-”

He stops. He’s lifted your shirt just enough to reveal the black lacy lingerie underneath. 

“Oh.”

“One step ahead of you, baby,” you say sweetly. 

“Fuckkkkk,” he groans. He helps you lift your shirt the rest of the way off, flinging it aside as he takes in the sight of you. The mesh lining of the bra is entirely sheer, putting your nipples on full display. The coolness of the room combined with how turned on you’re getting makes them perk up, poking through the delicate fabric. 

He brushes his fingers over the protruding buds, making them even harder. He licks his lips as he gazes at you, the love in his eyes quickly turning into lust. 

You reach for the waist of your leggings, sliding them off of you to reveal the rest of the set. You kick them aside, standing up before him to show yourself off.

“Turn around for me,” Mingi commands.

You give him a twirl, wiggling your butt as your back faces him. He grabs onto you with both hands, squeezing your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands.

You let him touch you for a few moments before you spin around, grabbing his hands as you pull him with you toward the bedroom.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” you tease.

Before you can take another step you feel your feet depart from the ground - Mingi grabs you by the waist, lifting you off the floor as he picks you up. He practically tosses you over his shoulder as he carries you down the hallway, his arm wrapped tightly around your torso as he holds you against him. 

“Hey!!” you shout, but a big grin spreads across your face. So he’s in this kind of mood. You know he’s about to throw you around, have his way with you - even more so than normal. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation. 

You arrive at the bedroom. Mingi tosses you onto the bed - you land on your back, resting upon the pile of pillows. You keep your legs open, showing off your pussy through the sheer fabric of your underwear. 

“So wet for me already,” he says as he runs two fingers lightly across your clothed slit. He gives your cunt a gentle smack. 

“Touch yourself for me, princess. Leave your panties on.”

You obediently slide your fingers to your core. Mingi quickly pulls his shirt over his head, then reaches for his belt. You begin stroking your clit through the soft mesh as you watch him remove his clothes, freeing the large bulge that has formed in his pants. He pulls his boxers down, his length springing free. As many times as you’ve had sex with him, you’re still always taken aback by his size. His cock is thick, long, hard - precum already dribbling from his tip. He strokes himself a few times as he watches you. You slip your fingers underneath your panties, sliding them into your opening. You moan softly at the sensation - but you know this is absolutely nothing compared to how much his cock is going to fill you up. 

He watches you slowly fuck yourself for a minute, gripping his length in his fist. As you start to wriggle slightly to your own touch, he steps forward. You yelp as he grabs you by the ankles, yanking you toward the edge of the mattress. He kneels down, leaning against the bed, positioning his face in front of your cunt. His hands slide up the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up and into the bed, nearly folding you in half as he opens you up even further before him. He sticks his tongue out, dragging its tip ever so lightly over your clit through the panties - it’s enough to drive you insane.

“Mingi,” you whine, trying to push yourself into his mouth. He retracts his head, not letting you get what you want just yet.

“What’s that, baby?” he asks. The way he’s staring at you, you can tell he is dying to taste you - but he doesn’t miss the opportunity to taunt you a bit.

“Please,” you softly mumble under your breath.

“Use your words, doll. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Want your mouth on me,” you manage to utter, still trying to push your cunt against his mouth - but his grip on you is too strong. “Want you to make me cum.”

“Like this?” he asks, teasing you once more as his tongue dances over your pussy.

“God, yes,” you cry. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if he delays any further. 

“Or,” he continues as he reaches beneath the hem of your panties, pulling them aside. The coolness of the air hits your soaked core, countered by the hot exhales of Mingi’s breath against you. “Like this…”

He dives into you, his warm mouth greeting your cunt as his tongue traces between your folds. He sticks the tip into your hole - you’re so wet right now that it slips in with ease. You groan as he fucks you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit as he swirls his tongue around inside you. He pulls it out, flattening his tongue and licking a big stripe up your center before latching onto your clit. You cry out at the overpowering stimulation, writhing beneath Mingi’s strong arms as he sucks on the sensitive bud. A white-hot sensation swells in your gut, burning delightfully as you feel your orgasm approach. Your body tenses, your legs beginning to quiver as Mingi devours you. You reach for his head, grasping onto his hair as your climax takes over. You scream out Mingi’s name as you cum on his face, his tongue moving relentlessly against your clit as you ride out your high. He grips onto you until the very end, face buried in your pussy as you come down. Just when you think it’s over, he starts up again, sucking on your clit as he slips his fingers into you, curling them perfectly to reach your g-spot. Within moments, you’re cumming again, grinding against his tongue as overwhelming pleasure courses through your veins. He slows his motions, giving your clit a few last gentle licks as he slides his fingers out of you. They’re dripping wet, as is his entire chin - he places them in his mouth, licking them clean, making sure he doesn’t waste a single drop of you. 

You lay there, your chest rising up and down with heavy breaths as you try to recover. Mingi crawls up to meet your face, kissing you slowly on the mouth as he lays his weight upon you - resting on his forearms so he doesn’t completely squish you. You feel his cock throbbing against your cunt as he makes out with you - you can just tell he is unbearably hard. 

Mingi’s lips part from yours - barely, just enough so he can gaze into your eyes as he strokes your hair.

“Please fuck me,” you beg, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He nuzzles his head into your neck, sucking at your skin - lightly, but enough that you know it’ll leave a mark. 

“Anything for my princess,” he whispers into your ear. 

He stands up, pulling your hips toward him. He grabs onto the panties, ripping them off of you and throwing them aside. He lines his cock up with your entrance; he pushes just the head in, but he’s already stretching you out. Slowly he slides his full length into you - you cry out at the overwhelming fullness. He rests inside you for a few moments, letting you get used to his size. You begin shifting your hips, trying to ride his cock from beneath him. Mingi grins.

“So eager,” he coos, tracing his fingers over your stomach. “Are you ready babygirl?”

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, nodding your head swiftly.

He begins fucking you, steadily at first, but your cries quickly makes him increase his pace. Tears flow from your eyes as his thickness stretches you with each motion. He grasps tightly onto your hips, pulling you against him as he thrusts into you. He looks down at you, his pretty baby, losing all composure on his cock. He moans loudly, uninhibited - he doesn’t care if the whole world hears him. He wants everybody to know you’re his.

He reaches down, feeling your breasts through the lacy sheer bra.

“So pretty,” he groans. “So perfect, all mine.”

His hand slides down to your stomach, pushing down on your abdomen as he fucks you. The other reaches for your clit - you didn’t think you could possibly cum again, but the gentle pressure of his fingers combined with his cock nearly splitting you in half just feels too good. 

“Gonna cum,” you manage to get out, barely able to speak through your cries of pleasure. 

“Cum for me babygirl,” Mingi growls, very near his own release.

You cum on his cock, crying out his name as your walls squeeze around him - sending him over the edge. He releases, painting your insides with his hot white ropes. He grasps onto your hips, holding you down against him as his cock pulsates inside you. He breathes heavily, grunting as he gives you every last spurt of his cum. As he finishes, he holds still, his cock resting inside you. He leans over, careful not to pull out just yet - gently he grabs your jaw as he kisses you, his lips hungrily interlocked with yours. 

“Wait right here baby,” he says softly as your mouths finally part. You groan as he carefully pulls his cock out of you, immediately missing the sensation. Mingi quickly makes his way to the bathroom; he returns with a small towel, doused in warm water. Gently he cleans you up, cautious as not to overstimulate you. As he finishes he tosses the towel back into the bathroom, scooping you up and pulling you into the bed with him. He tucks the both of you underneath the blankets, taking you in his arms as he nuzzles up against you. 

“Are you cold?” he asks, kissing you on the forehead.

“Not with you here.”

“Good.”

You lay there in silence, deep breaths filling the air as you relax into each other's arms.

“Thanks for the present, baby,” you finally say, your voice soft and sleepy.

“You’re welcome, love.”

“You did completely rip it to shreds, though,” you remind him.

Mingi smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I got a little carried away. You just looked too good.”

He cradles your cheek in his palm. “I’ll just have to get you another one,” he tells you with a kiss.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” you say as you snuggle up into him. “Just give me a few business weeks to recover from this please.”

He laughs, drawing you even closer into him. You begin to drift off to sleep, comfortable and warm in his embrace.

“Mingi?” you say softly.

“Yes, babe?”

“I love you.”

You feel his cheeks turn into a smile.

“I love you too, baby.”

[thriftedtchotchkes]

switching the positions

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food

word count: 16.2k

moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡

a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

SUNDAY

"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not gonna hate you.”

Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away. 

Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.

“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.

“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.

“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?” 

He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.

“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”

Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it. 

“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?” 

You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.

“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”

He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.” 

So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.

MONDAY

"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."

It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.

You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays. 

Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.

Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—

And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets. 

It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief. 

“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.

His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.

Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life. 

But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.” 

The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately. 

“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.

“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”

Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.

“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.

"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.

"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"

You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect. 

The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.

You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.

"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."

He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.

Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most. 

You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.

"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."

"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."

So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.

Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—

Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.

"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."

A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth. 

"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.

"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—

The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.

"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."

You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.

Neither of you makes it to work on time.

TUESDAY

"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."

The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.

You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.

“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.

“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.

“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.

“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.

“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless. 

It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too. 

“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her. 

It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself. 

You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.

“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack. 

…Wait. She’s leaving?

“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”

“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”

You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder. 

“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!” 

And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.

You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.

Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best. 

Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.

The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.

There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship. 

Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.

Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.

You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good. 

You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise. 

“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”

Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit. 

Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.

And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.

“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”

He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen. 

“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.

“Good. It’s dinner time.”

WEDNESDAY

"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."

Spin class sucks.

There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.

It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this. 

It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun. 

But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.

No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it. 

There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.

The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative. 

It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.

Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.

Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him. 

What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats. 

Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you. 

That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.

The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are. 

Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all. 

You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.

"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"

You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far. 

On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.

It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.

“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."

Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core. 

You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.

Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.

"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"

His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it. 

Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.

Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.

"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."

And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars. 

Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful. 

Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—

But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.

"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"

Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.

"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.

You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.

"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.

"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.

"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.

"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine." 

Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him. 

You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.

All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—

But he's got one last edge left in him. 

You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.

He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.

"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively. 

Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you. 

But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.

You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.

"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need. 

You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs. 

Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?

But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself. 

Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.

“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."

You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?

"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.

He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.

"Wanna explain what all of that was?"

"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."

"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense. 

You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.

"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"

"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!" 

But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.

"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.

"That's okay. We won't need one."

THURSDAY

"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"

Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.

You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.

How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.

Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.

It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option. 

Two blue lines. Pregnant.

You knew this week was going a little too well. 

Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.

Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought. 

Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this. 

It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.

There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.

Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point. 

You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before? 

Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight. 

Fuck.

Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.

But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar. 

Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?

No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.

If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable. 

Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.

So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken. 

Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.

“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”

She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken. 

“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”

“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”

The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.

Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.

It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.  

"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"

Yeah, you could say that.

You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.

"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you. 

His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you. 

Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering. 

That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.

Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.

But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.

His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.

His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."

Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm. 

But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.

“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.

“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”

Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.

The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.

“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells. 

“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”

“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone. 

Together. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”

FRIDAY

"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."

Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.

You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk. 

“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.” 

You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.

Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer. 

Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that. 

You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up. 

Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes. 

Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur. 

Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time. 

You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.

Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.

Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand. 

But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer. 

“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”

You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck. 

“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.

“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips. 

Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans. 

You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere. 

Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.

But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.

“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”

You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.

“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”

“Whatever you want, baby."

Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction. 

Now, you want something else. 

You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either. 

His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all. 

Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.

"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."

Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken. 

Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration. 

He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.

Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie. 

"Should ya be doin' that right now?" 

There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.

"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"

The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"

You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.

"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."

"Deal," he says without hesitation.

"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening. 

He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.

"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."

Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.

"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart. 

You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.

Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open. 

"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit. 

Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast. 

Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap. 

"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"

You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—

Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically. 

"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.

What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now. 

And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.

Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric. 

He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.

"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."

"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."

He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.

"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."

But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.

"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.

You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something. 

"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his. 

You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation. 

"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now." 

Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.

His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back. 

So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.

"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.

"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."

Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead. 

"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."

Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough. 

Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.

“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you. 

It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.

But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.

"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.

Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.

Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.

And still so mouthy.

“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”

"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?" 

It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.

"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."

Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight. 

His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.

“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”

“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?” 

Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.

“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”

SATURDAY

"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."

You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.

And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.

Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content. 

He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs. 

That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.

But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.

He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.

His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once. 

Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you. 

"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens. 

"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"

You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers. 

Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.

"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.

"Huh?" you ask dumbly. 

"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh. 

"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.

"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"

And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.

God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.

Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.

"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."  

Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath. 

You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement. 

He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you. 

But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.

You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.

“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"

Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.

“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”

Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.

Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.

Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves. 

His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip. 

The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him. 

And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat. 

You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.

"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."

How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.

Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite. 

But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment. 

And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking. 

Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.

“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”

It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.

At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.

His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again. 

Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation. 

Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.

Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.

“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach. 

Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.

"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away. 

His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.

It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives. 

“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.” 

You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.

“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”

He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.

You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful. 

When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free. 

Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.

Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.

Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.

He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately. 

After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.

"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."

The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache. 

You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.

Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth. 

"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."

He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.

“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."

You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.

Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.

"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"

Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that. 

His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does. 

Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.

You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would. 

And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.

You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could. 

It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.

"Yeah, I do."

thanks for reading! 💕

[star-girl69]

hi everyone! this is so lazy but pls enjoy 🫶🫶

warnings: swearing and also slight freaky stuff 😣

you: good morning my sweet girlfriend

kk: wtf

kk: why r u not in my bed??

you: babe… i told u i had to leave early this morning bc i had an appt

kk: for what?

you: getting my nails done

kk: u abandoned me to get ur nails done?

you: yes…?

you: i don’t think i appreciate this attitude maybe i’ll just go back to my dorm

kk: please come back to my place.

you: say pretty please with sprinkles on top

kk: y/n

you: ok see u tmrw then

kk: pretty please with sprinkles on top.

you: ofc i will come back to urs 🥰

kk: 🙄

you: attitude????

kk: no ily

you: aww i love u too!

—-

you: can u plz drive me to my friend’s birthday dinner on friday and pick me up

kk: what times

you: drop me off at 6 pick me up at 9

kk: ok no problem

you: thank u ily

you: i would carpool w my friend serena but i don’t trust her in a car

you: she runs red lights a lot lol

kk: ??? plz don’t ever get into a car with her. i will drive u always

you: aww ur so sweet! not wanting me to die 🥰

kk: anything for my passenger princess

—-

you: CAROLINE ROSE HARVEY

kk: im sorry

kk: i’m so sorry

kk: i’ll make it up to you i promise im so sorry

…

laila: what did you do to kk 😭😭

laila: she’s staring at her phone in horror and when i asked her what was wrong she just said y/n before putting her head in her hands

you: i’m letting her sit in fear for a minute

laila: i admire you a lot ❤️

…

you: so i wake up this morning

kk: yes and u looked so pretty when i left

you: thank u

you: anyways and i then go about my day and i’m ready to run out and do my errands i look at myself in the mirror

kk: and u saw how beautiful u r?

you: yes and also i saw a GAINT FUCKING HICKEY ON MY NECK

you: SEVERAL OF THEM ACTUALLY

kk: do u really want me to say sorry for that

you: yes??? i need so much makeup to cover this up. actually i think u should buy new concealer for me

kk: as long as i can do it again

you: no this is so embarrassing

kk: it’s ok you’ll be saying different later

kk: besides u were encouraging me last night

you: ur delusional i’ve never done that

kk: if u say so babe but we both know

you: *link to new concealer*

kk: just bought 2 prepare to use them up

you: no

kk: yessss

you: no

kk: 😉

you: die

kk: ❤️

—-

you: i’m really craving chick fil a

kk: ok

you: i’m REALLY craving chick fil a

kk: u mentioned that

you: bye u don’t care abt me

you: gonna go text my other hoes

kk: u don’t have other hoes

you: im about to

kk: we’ll see

you: PLEASE GET ME CHICK FIL A

you: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

kk: thought u were texting other hoes?

you: i lied ur my only hoe and ilysm

you: plz get me chick fil a

you: i’ll do a cartwheel on it

kk: ???

kk: babe i’ll get u chick fil a

kk: thanks tho? i think

you: YAYYYY

—-

kk: i know ur asleep right now and i know u r very tired and i’m sorry but i forgot my helmet can u pls bring it to me at the rink

you: how did u forget ur helmet

you: like it weighs 10 pounds and it’s huge

kk: mean

kk: and idk i’m stupid plz bring it

you: ugh fine i’m On my way!

you: omw.

you: im not excited

kk: i love u so much u r the light of my life i cannot imagine waking up without ur beautiful face next to me u are brighter than the sun and i love u

you: thank u shakespeare ur so romantic

you: can we go shopping tmrw and u pay i need new pants

kk: u don’t need pants

you: it’s 9am

kk: yes we can go shopping tmrw

you: love u!

kk: ❤️

—-

you: hi

you: are u doing anything tn?? i feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever

kk: i know baby i miss u

kk: i have practice until 8 but u can come over still after? sleepover?

you: yes definitely i’ll be there

kk: i cant wait to see u pretty girl

—-

you: omg this restaurant looks so good we should go

kk: sunday at 6?

you: um yes i’m free

kk: just made a reservation

you: damn 😭 i’m impressed

kk: whatever my girl wants she gets 🤷‍♀️

—-

you: hi baby

…

you: so what position u got her in rn?

you: missionary? cowgirl?

kk: why do i love u

you: blocked

kk: i have no girls in no positions except for u

you: why are u so busy then?

kk: picked up this new hobby called hockey idk if it will go anywhere

kk: been at the gym for an hour about to go hit the rink

you: send workout pics 😜

—-

kk: hiiiiiiiiii

you: hi babe

kk: tone down that attitude plz

you: ?

kk: actually

kk: turn around show me that ass

you: are u drunk rn

kk: maybe

kk: you have an amazing ass do i tell u that enough

kk: i should tell u more

kk: i love ur ass

you: thank u…

you: do u need to be picked up?

kk: no laila is dd

kk: wanted to talk to my pretty girl

you: u sure know how to make a girl blush

kk: only u babe

kk: i like ur boobs too

you: oh my god pls hand the phone to laila

kk: this is laila don’t worry we’re going home rn

you: laila ur a goddess thank u

kk: i try ❤️❤️

—-

[sansaorgana]

would benny be a girl dad or a boy dad?

either way I can see him getting teaching his child (let's say 5 year old) how to ride a bike because they want to be just like their dad but benny knows the dangers of a motorcycle and the heart attack it would give his wife (reader) so they just settled on a regular bike.

what about girl dad benny who's daughter has a pink bicycle with a little flower wicker basket in the front

hi! 😌 honestly, I don't know. I can imagine him as a girl dad and a boy dad equally, although I assume he didn't have a good father growing up, so being a boy dad could terrify him a little... anyway, dad!Benny is apparently something I really enjoy writing because I loved every moment of it 🥰 before someone points it out – yes, he's drinking beer & smoking cigarettes with the kid around and yes, his wife (the Reader) is the one responsible for cooking and cleaning around the house (she has a job, too) – it's the 70s, okay? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

The garage where Benny worked as a mechanic was closed every Sunday but the store where you worked part-time was open every day of the week and sometimes they were asking you to show up on the weekends – especially when one of your co-workers was sick – but you didn’t mind it that much since they were paying more for working on Sunday. Today they wanted you for only one six hour long shift anyway so you would handle that with no problem.

In the morning, you prepared breakfast for everybody and went upstairs to change into your work clothes and to put light makeup on. When you went downstairs, Benny and Rosie were sitting on the couch together and watching cartoons. Your five years old daughter was curled up and rested her head on Benny’s chest as they both laughed at something silly.

“I’m leavin’,” you announced but they didn’t even turn around to look at you. You sighed. “I’m leavin’,” you repeated as you leaned in to give Benny a kiss on the cheek. Then you gave one to your daughter. “Don’t let her watch TV for too long,” you furrowed your brows at your husband. “I’m gonna bring dinner with me but you can make sandwiches,” you reminded him.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Benny mumbled.

“Be careful, mummy!” Rosie waved her hand at you and you waved back with a wide smile before leaving the house.

When the door behind you closed, Rosie moved even closer to her daddy as she sighed.

“Daddy?” She looked up.

“Hm?” Benny asked as he put his arm around her and caressed her back.

“But I want to watch cartoons all day long,” she pouted and Benny chuckled before looking down at her face.

“Yeah, I know, baby, but they don’t show ‘em all day long,” he pointed out.

“What are we gonna do then?” Rosie whined.

“Dunno,” Benny shrugged his arms. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie’s eyes sparkled and Benny nodded – unsurely, though. “Can I colour your tattoos?” She made puppy eyes at him.

“Yeah,” Benny sighed but with a loving smile.

Rosie clapped her hands, forgetting the cartoon on the TV immediately. She kissed Benny’s cheek and scrunched her nose at the itchy feeling of his facial hair before she jumped out of the couch but then, she froze.

“Wait, do you go to work tomorrow, daddy?” She asked, concerned. Benny nodded at that. “Well, maybe then no colouring…”

“It’s fine,” Benny chuckled. 

They had learnt already that one shower was not enough to get those marker pens out of his skin.

“I don’t mind it, baby,” he assured her and she smiled again, widely. Then she ran upstairs to her room for the set of marker pens that you had given her for her birthday.

Benny changed the channel on TV since Rosie wasn’t interested in watching cartoons anymore. He switched to some football game and went to the kitchen to grab a beer. You would usually scold him for starting so early but you weren’t home.

When he went back to the living room, Rosie was already taking out the marker pens out of the box. Benny sat down on the couch and opened the can of beer with a wink.

“Don’t tell mummy ‘bout it, huh?” He chuckled and Rosie pretended to zip her mouth. “Good girl,” he patted her head and focused on the game on TV.

Rosie sat next to him and took one of his arms to colour the tattoos. She was trying to do a good job with it and not to cross over the lines. She was so focused on that task that she stuck out her tongue a little and her brows furrowed.

“You know what tattoo is my favourite, daddy?” She asked suddenly.

Benny, who had been lost in the game, immediately focused on his daughter’s question instead.

“Which one, dollie?” He asked.

“The rose, of course!” Rosie giggled. “It’s for me!” She exclaimed proudly and picked up a pink marker pen to fill in her favourite tattoo with her favourite colour.

“Um…,” Benny looked at her, concerned, and her hand froze in the air. “Could you… Choose a different colour perhaps? I’ve told you already I don’t want no pink on me,” he reminded her and Rosie sighed.

She looked down and started to look for a different marker pen.

“Why don’t you like pink, daddy?” Rosie asked.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. But it’s for girls,” Benny explained as he took a sip of his beer. “Men don’t wear pink.”

“Elvis had a pink cadillac!” Rosie pointed out. “And you have a tattoo of a rose. It’s girly, too,” she added and picked up a green marker pen.

“Okay, alright,” Benny sighed, giving up. “Paint it pink, I don’t care,” he shrugged his arms.

“Really?” Rosie looked up with widened eyes and a big grin.

“Yeah. If someone says something, I’m gonna remind ‘em who’s the boss around,” he laughed and Rosie squealed out of happiness before changing the maker pen for the pink one again.

“You’re the best, daddy!” She hugged him before starting to colour the rose tattoo.

Benny smiled to himself and went back to watching the game on TV. Those words coming from his daughter meant more than anything else to him.

When the game was over, Benny was already covered in colourful drawings. Rosie not only had coloured his already existing tattoos but also added a few new ones – for example a ginger cat she really wanted to own. She had no idea you and Benny planned to adopt one for Christmas as a surprise.

“My second favourite tattoo is this one,” she pointed with her little finger at a heart with a ribbon on it. And on the ribbon there was your name. “The one for mummy.”

“Your favourites are my favourites, too,” Benny smiled at her and opened his arms. Rosie crawled upon his lap and hugged her daddy tight. “You hungry, baby?” He asked and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“Nah,” Rosie shook her head and scrunched her nose. “Can we play outside?”

“Sure. What you wanna do?” Benny patted her back.

“I want you to show me on the motorbike,” Rosie looked up with a pleading look. Benny laughed at that.

“No way.”

“But daddy…” Rosie whined.

“Rose, your mother’s gonna kill me,” Benny told her.

“She won’t find out!” Rosie promised.

Benny contemplated it for a moment but eventually agreed with a sigh. Rosie left his lap and ran outside and Benny stood up and went to the garage. He opened the door first and saw Rosie already waiting on the driveway while she kept dancing around happily.

He glanced at his Harley with a hint of melancholy. It was not like he wasn’t driving it at all anymore but these days his motorbike rides were rare. Next to the Harley there was his car parked and that vehicle was simply more useful when you had a family and a kid.

His good, old Harley. Benny patted it lovingly. He was grateful to you that you had not wanted him to sell it. Even when you had been kinda broke and needed money for the house. You had told him it would be fine without selling it. You knew the importance of this motorbike for him. And you knew how much it would devastate your husband if he had to sell it.

“Come here,” Benny waved at Rosie and she ran up to him, excitedly. “You can sit on it,” he told her but her smile dropped.

“No, daddy! I want to ride it! And outside, not inside the garage!” Rosie insisted and Benny sighed.

“Do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Yeah! I’m your daughter!” Rosie pointed out with a grin. “And mummy’s, too! You’re both stubborn as a pair of mules!”

“Rosie…” Benny scolded her as he gave her an unpleasant look.

“What? That’s what you are like whenever you’re fighting!” Rosie rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Benny gave up already. “Move away now,” he told her and she took a few steps back to watch in awe as he jumped onto the motorbike and started it with an aggressive kick. He kept looking behind to make sure she wouldn’t suddenly jump ahead and get hurt.

Benny drove outside to stop on the driveway and beckoned Rosie over. She followed him, curiously.

“You have to hold me very, very tight, you hear me?” Benny explained as he was helping her to sit behind him. He already regretted his decision to agree to this madness.

“I hear you, daddy!” Rosie promised and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I’m not gonna drive fast and we’re only gonna be riding up and down the street once. Don’t ask for more,” Benny told her.

“Okay!” She exclaimed happily.

Benny took a deep breath in and left the driveway to enter the street – slowly and carefully. He ended up driving with one hand as he kept his other one on Rosie, just in case her grip turned out to be not strong enough.

“I love it already, daddy!” He heard her giggle and that sound was like honey being poured onto his heart.

When they made one round, she asked for another and then another and another. Benny just couldn’t say no.

You left the bus with a takeout dinner still warm in the bag you were carrying. The day was nice and sunny so you weren’t hurrying to go back home. Your walk was slow and steady as you admired the trees and the sky and the sound of children playing in the background.

After a while, you furrowed your brows at the sound that was oddly familiar. No, it could not be… It could not be the sound of the engine of Benny’s motorbike, could it?!

You picked up your pace and when you finally approached your street, you froze at the sight of Benny driving his motorbike with a cigarette hanging from his lips as he was laughing. Rosie was sitting behind him and giggling while her legs were swinging in the air. You got dizzy at the sight.

Yeah, Benny was driving very slow and he was keeping one of his hands on Rosie just in case… But still, it was dangerous.

“Benjamin Cross!” You yelled and they both froze at the sight of you as their eyes widened in fear. It was nearly funny how much they looked alike at the moment – a father and daughter indeed.

Benny stopped the engine immediately and you could see his face got a shade paler. He mumbled something to Rosie and she jumped out of the motorbike before running towards you to give you a hug.

“Mummy!” She greeted you with a smile. “I made daddy show me how to ride a bike!”

“I could see that,” you smiled fakely at her and then gave Benny a deadly look. He was slowly driving back towards the house and inside the opened garage.

You took Rosie by her hand and dragged her behind you as you followed your irresponsible husband.

“Don’t be angry, mummy!” Rosie started as she felt your annoyance. “We were careful,” she assured you. “And it was not like daddy wanted to! I had to convince him!” 

You didn’t answer and just waited outside the house as Benny parked his motorbike and closed the garage door before joining you awkwardly. He was avoiding looking into your eyes.

“You been driving around with a little kid in the back, risking your lives, while the garage door was open all this time?” You asked him and he looked down.

You sighed and squeezed Rosie’s hand tighter before going inside the house. Benny put out his cigarette on the ground and followed you.

You let go of Rosie’s hand and went to the living room to be able to get inside the kitchen where you wanted to put the takeaway dinner but then you spotted a mess in the living room.

“What is that?!” You gasped at the sight of the marker pens scattered everywhere. And on the coffee table there were two empty cans of beer.

You turned around, even more angry than before. Both Benny and Rosie looked down.

“Rosie, put the marker pens inside the box and take them upstairs to your room where their place is,” you told your daughter. “And wash your hands before dinner.”

“Yes, mummy,” she sighed and rushed to do what she was told to.

To Benny, however, you didn’t speak a word. You just gave him a dirty look and went to the kitchen to unpack the dinner.

He followed you with the empty cans of beer and threw them inside the trashcan before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. They were dirty from the grease.

“You’re fucking irresponsible,” you scolded him, trying to keep your voice low.

“I am not, we were careful,” Benny tried to explain himself but you ignored him.

“And the beer… Jesus, Benny. I’ve been telling you not to drink before noon at least, yeah? You think I’m gonna tolerate you drinking that shit right after breakfast?” You shook your head.

“I don’t do that every day,” Benny reminded you and looked at you like a beaten dog.

You tried to keep an angry face on for a moment longer before finally cracking a smile and opening your arms to give him a hug.

“Benny, baby,” you kissed his cheek and caressed his hair as he wrapped his arms around you. “I nearly had a heart attack back there, seeing Rosie on that goddamn bike.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, but she kept convicin’ me and I wanted to make her happy,” he explained and you sighed. Then you smiled, noticing the colours on his tattoos.

“Just don’t do that again, please,” you pleaded as you moved away to cup his face and look into his pretty baby blue eyes. “If something happened to either of you… I’d go crazy, Benny.”

“I know,” Benny cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Rosie ran inside the kitchen that very moment and she hugged your waist.

“Mummy, don’t be angry at daddy, it’s my fault!” She tried to defend him. It was adorable. You caressed her hair.

“No, baby. Daddy’s an adult so it was his fault. But it’s okay now,” you assured her. “That won’t happen again, just so you know. No more riding a motorbike,” you told her and she pouted but didn’t try to fight you.

“Show me your hands, baby,” Benny looked down and Rosie showed him. They were still quite dirty from some marker pens and some grease. Benny chuckled at that and shook his head. “Come on, we gotta clean them better,” he picked her up to help her access the kitchen sink as she began to scrub her hands under the stream of warm water with the help of the dishwashing liquid and you focused on dividing dinner into portions.

On the next day you weren’t working and you allowed Rosie to skip kindergarten. When you were at home, there was no point in sending her there and you enjoyed spending time with your daughter. She was helping you to clean the house since you couldn’t do that on the previous day due to your shift at the store.

Around five, you were preparing the dinner with the help of Rosie while listening to the songs on the radio and singing along together when you heard Benny’s car parking on the driveway. You looked out of the window and waved at him. He waved back and Rosie squealed excitedly, leaving all the vegetables she was supposed to chop behind as she ran outside the house.

You shook your head with a chuckle and wiped your hands in your apron before walking outside as well to see Rosie jumping into her daddy’s arms. Benny hugged her and patted her back.

“I got somethin’ for ya, baby,” he told her. “Your own bike,” he added and your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” You crossed your arms and approached them two. Rosie was excitedly clapping her hands and you put your hand on her shoulder. “You being serious, Benny?”

“Just wait and see,” Benny chuckled and opened the trunk of the car before taking something out of it.

That something was a small pink bicycle with a little flower wicker basket in the front that made you gasp an oh as your heart fluttered at the sight. Rosie squealed and began to jump around out of happiness.

“Thank you, daddy, thank you, daddy, thank you!” She was repeating over and over.

Benny’s face lit up at the sight of her happiness. He opened his arms and she gave him a big hug again.

“We gotta make sure it’s good for ya, come here,” he put his hand on Rosie’s shoulder to walk her up to the bike. “Stand here,” he pointed at the ground next to the bike to adjust the height of the bike’s saddle. “Yeah, perfect,” he mumbled to himself. “I’m tired today, so I’m gonna park it right in the garage and we can try it out some other day, okay?”

“Yeah! I can wait!” Rosie nodded and then she turned around to look at you. “Mummy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Are you angry that I have my own bike?” She bit on her lower lip and you chuckled before ruffling her hair.

“No, love. It’s just a bicycle and it’s very pretty. I’m very happy that you have it and that daddy will show you how to ride it, yeah?” You bopped her on the nose and her eyes sparkled. “Benny!” You shouted after him as he was inside the garage. “We’re going back inside. Dinner’s almost ready,” you told him and you took Rosie back inside.

You finished preparing everything and you put it inside the oven before letting Rosie go to her room to play for a while before the meat and vegetables would be ready. When she was upstairs, you joined Benny on the couch. He was watching TV as usual after work and you put your arm around him to play with his hair. He hummed at your touch while the muscles of his shoulders relaxed.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you told him and took his hand into your free one. He lazily turned his head around to look at you. “The bike and everything… You’re such a good daddy,” you whispered.

“Yeah, who would have thought, huh?” He chuckled and looked down.

“That’s not what I meant,” you squeezed his hand. “But… It had to cost a lot, that bike,” you swallowed thickly.

You loved your life with Benny and your little family. You were happy but it was no secret that money was something you often struggled with. 

“It’s fine,” Benny nodded. “I promise ya.”

“Well, okay then,” you sighed and lowered your head to put it on his shoulder. Benny caressed your back and kissed the top of your head. “I love you, Benny.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he answered with a smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You furrowed your brows.

“For everything,” Benny shrugged his arms. “For saying yes and I do, for givin’ me Rosie, for savin’ my life.”

“I didn’t save your life, Benny,” you caressed his chest gently. “You saved your life on your own when you made your decision to settle down.”

It was something you two would never agree on. Benny kept insisting you were his saviour and you wanted him to finally realise that he could be a good man on his own as well and not only because of your love and presence or because of Rosie’s existence.

But what mattered the most in the end was that you loved each other and you were happy.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Confessions finally come to light and Jessie has the chance to ask you what she should've asked you years ago.

Warnings: Mild language. Outside of that - none. Just fluff, fluff, fluff.

A/N: I'm ignoring the most recent Thorns results in this story, btw lol. They're gonna rebound - I know it! Previous parts for this series can be found on my masterlist.

"Nice playing tonight. Congrats on the win." 

Jessie smiled to herself as she sat on the twin-sized bed of her hotel room and laid back, resting her head on the pillow.  

A few team members were still downstairs in the hotel restaurant, but she was beat and needed some downtime. She knew Janine would stay down with the group for a while, so this was her chance to get some solitude.  

"Thank you! I'm super happy with how the team was playing together today. And away games can be tough, but I'm stoked. Anyway, enough football talk lol how was your dinner?" 

"Well, you play Utah next – I'm no expert analyst, but as far as I can tell, your chances for 3 points are good lol. And dinner was delicious – thank you for asking. [Y/friend] and [Y/other friend] went out for drinks after but I called it a night. I'm exhausted after this week." 

"Lol I don't want to jinx anything, but yeah, you may be right about those 3 points. Sorry to hear you're so tired. You had a super stressful week though – I know work was crazy for you and then your brother showing up out of the blue. Yeah. That's a rough week. I'm sorry I'm not there to help more." 

"What are you talking about? You were so helpful. I bet you thought you were done hearing about my family drama, but here we are again lol. It's just a lot less common now – thank God. And anyway, what about you – what are you up to? Don't feel like you have to text me. I know you're with the team." 

"It's not a problem – seriously. Call me anytime. And it's all good – I've retreated to my room early. It's been a long day." 

"Okay, still, don't feel like you have to respond. I know you need your me-time; take it if you can get it." 

"It's alright. Really.-" 

Jessie stared at her phone for a few seconds as she contemplated continuing her thought. Screw it.  

"-I'm happy talking with you."  

She hit send and subconsciously held her breath for a second before remembering to breathe. She worked to dismiss any mounting anxieties, but had a hard time denying the way her pulse had quickened. It only got faster when she saw you starting to type. Her eyes remained fixed onto the screen until your reply came through.  

"Well that makes two of us." 

"As in I'm happy talking with you." 

Jessie chuckled, relief going through her body. She lifted a finger to her mouth and mindlessly chewed at her skin. Her brow creased as she contemplated her next move. Thoughts ping-ponged inside her mind before she threw caution to the wind – very intently so – and started texting. 

"Lol I understood." 

"Hey, are you busy next weekend? There's this pop-up exhibit in town for a few days. Maybe we could go and grab a late dinner together after?" 

"Are you talking about the CityScape exhibit? I wanted to go to that! Yes, that sounds amazing." 

Jessie beamed from ear to ear. 

"Okay, awesome. I'll get tickets." 

"Thanks, just tell me what I owe you." 

"Nothing at all 😊" 

"Stop it. Tell me what I owe you. Or I can just buy dinner, then. Whatever works." 

Jessie huffed. She was conjuring up a rebuttal when another message came in from you. 

"Okay, I have to confess something. It's been weighing on me for years and this just totally made me think of it again." 

Jessie frowned as she wracked her mind for any possibility of what you may be referring to.  

"Okay. What is it? Whatever it is, I'm sure it's okay." 

"Lol you say that now." 

"K. Remember when we went to that underground art show and then dinner and drinks in WeHo a few months after we first met? Or more specifically, remember when you asked me if I wanted to go to that?" 

Of course she did. You looked amazing that night. She was grateful that Teagan and Mia were there to distract her because if it had just been the two of you, she wasn't sure if she'd have been able to function.  

"Yeah, I remember. Why?" 

"So, full disclosure, I legitimately thought you were asking me on a date to that. When you showed up with Mia and Teags? DEAD. Let's just say it was a very humbling experience hahaha. So embarrassing! Enough time has passed that I can admit to it lol. It cracks me up now." 

Jessie didn't even realize her mouth was agape. Her mind was absolutely foggy and turned upside down as she reread your message again and again. She felt like she was having an out of body experience. Her mouth was dry and she started stammering even though there was no one to hear it.  

She needed to talk to Janine.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she found herself hauling open the hotel door and started padding down the hall until she realized she didn't have shoes on. She whipped around in a flurry to go back into the room and grab her shoes.  

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she more or less faceplanted into the door when it didn't open as she turned the handle. In her fluster she forgot she needed a key to open it. She stared down blankly at the lock for a few seconds before belatedly realizing she'd left the hotel key in the room. "Oh my god," she growled under breath. She spun on her heel and looked down the hall as she contemplated what to do.  

She looked back down at her phone and called up Janine. She let out another frustrated growl when the call went to voicemail. She texted her. "CALL ME. NOW." 

She paced back and forth in the hallway for a few seconds before looking back at the message you sent. Now anxiety around not replying to you was setting in. She didn't want you to think she was put off by what you said, but she also didn't know what the heck to say. This was too precarious a situation.  

She stood there motionless for a moment as she weighed her options and before she could start to overthink things she took off down the hall to the elevators.  

Once inside, she hit the 'M' button and the button to close the doors repeatedly in a vain attempt to move this journey along faster. She groaned when the elevator slowed at one of the floors along the way. She offered the joining guest a stiff smile and felt heat rush to her face when they glanced down at her sock feet.  

Once at the main floor, she took long, brisk steps towards the restaurant where she'd left the team and searched the remaining crowd for Janine. She spotted the blonde at a table towards the back and took a few steps into the restaurant – hoping not to get caught by the host. Thankfully, she caught Janine's eye. She waved the blonde over with uncharacteristically exaggerated movements and the blonde just frowned at her. Jessie's shoulders slumped in momentary defeat and frustration before she gave the girl another pointed look and gave a sharp wave. The blonde held up her hands in concession and got up. Jessie caught the curious looks the rest of her team gave her and offered a mere wave of 'hello' before grabbing Janine by the arm when she approached and dragging her out into the lobby.  

"I need your help." 

"What the heck!" Janine complained as she jerked her arm out of Jessie's grasp and shook it out for show. "What is going on? And why are you in your socks," she went on as she gave Jessie a disapproving look.  

Jessie bit back a sardonic, tense reply and instead just held up her phone to Janine's face. The blonde winced at the sudden movement and frowned as she read the message, before her jaw, too, fell like Jessie's had earlier.  

"Oh my gosh," Janine said in bewilderment. Jessie nodded repeatedly. "Oh. My. Gosh! Okay. So – what the heck – you left her on read?" 

"I didn't know what to say!" Jessie responded with a harsh whisper, gaze flitting about as she tried to not draw further attention to them.  

"Oh my gosh, Jessie. You're the worst," she said with an eye roll as she began to usher the smaller girl towards the elevators. Before Jessie could protest, Janine held up her hand in declaration, "Okay. We need a game plan..."

Jessie's mind was still racing as she stared vacantly at the elevator floor deep in thought as she pieced things together. Suddenly, she inhaled sharply, eyes growing wide as she lifted her head to look at Janine.

"She went on her first date with [an ex] like a month after that night! Wa-" She stopped herself momentarily, thoughts resetting before she started again, "Wait - do you think if we'd actually had a date that night that she wouldn't have dated her?"

Janine gave her a long stare that tapered into a look that was half sympathetic, half pointed. "Jess."

"Oh my God," Jessie groaned as she rubbed her face.

"Sorry - that was probably really awkward. That was a long time ago. And obviously it was all good in the end. Anyway, now I can die with an unburdened soul lol.”

“What do I say!” Jessie said, her voice rising while her heart beat out of her chest.

The elevator dinged as they reached their floor and the two looked at each other before exiting and heading to their room.

“Well, this could be your opportunity. Why not just tell her that you liked her? I know you aren’t comfortable telling her you like her now. But you can admit to it for the past,” Janine suggested.

Jessie’s eyes scanned around as she processed the different scenarios and outcomes that could arise. Her instinct was to say “no”, but she really couldn’t find a logical reason to deny it. She huffed.

“Okay. Well. What - I just say ‘Oh hey - speaking of funny stories, I had a crush on you for years. And I’m glad your exes hated me, cause guess what, I hated them because I was jealous’?” Jessie said moodily as she crossed her arms.

“Maybe not that,” Janine said with a sidelong glance.

The girls talked hurriedly, debating back and forth about what to say until Janine threw her hands up in relinquishment.

“I told you what I think. It’s your call. This is your relationship. Or - would-be relationship,” she relayed.

Jessie sighed heavily once more and sat down on the edge of her bed. She had to chill out. She reminded herself that this time things were supposed to be different. And that she was different, and not so scared.

“Sooo does that mean you would’ve said “yes” to a date? Wish I had known. I would’ve gladly taken you on a date.”

Jessie exhaled slowly as the message sent. She looked up to Janine and ignored how her ears were ringing.

She glanced back down and immediately saw bubbles come up.

“Lol! I’m sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“Jessie! Come on.”

“What? I’m dead serious. Question is if you would’ve actually said ‘yes’.”

“I wore my nicest dress and actually put in the time to do my hair and make-up properly. So I’ll leave that up to you to interpret.”

“Janine,” Jessie complained, her pitch rising as she rubbed her face in aggravation before bringing the hand down to slap against her leg. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Well I could’ve told you that,” Janine rebutted without hesitation before pausing and giving a small shrug. “For this situation anyway.”

Jessie exhaled in frustration again as she readjusted position on the bed, eyes still transfixed on your text. You know what? She might as well own it.

“Well, I’m an idiot. I truly thought I didn’t have a chance with you. For the record, you looked stunning that night. But also for the record, I liked you just as much in your everyday clothes and makeup or when you didn’t try at all.”

By now Janine was kneeling on the bed behind Jessie, hands on Jessie’s shoulders as she watched everything unfold. She was started to make a remark when she let out a loud gasp as Jessie’s screen lit up with a call from you.

“Oh my gosh!” Janine exclaimed.

“Shit!” Jessie said as panic began to rush through her. She was about to accept when she noted Janine’s head right next to her and she shook the blonde off of her. “Go!”

“Oh now you want me to leave,” Janine protested.

Jessie waved her off and took a steadying breath before answering and holding the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Jessie Fleming. You start off by giving me a heart attack - just leaving me hanging after I share my deeply embarrassing and humbling story. And now you come out of left field with - I think - a confession of your own? Are you fucking with me right now?”

Jessie choked and coughed at your wording. You didn’t sound mad at all. Bewildered? Yes.

“No. No I’m not,” she said much more tentatively than she’d intended.

The line was silent for a few seconds and Jessie was about to check if the call dropped when you spoke up again. This time you were the one who sounded tentative.

“Okay. Wait. Let’s recap. So-” Jessie could practically hear you thinking. “-you’re saying you would’ve wanted to go on a date together?”

Jessie pushed her hair back unnecessarily. “Um, yeah.” She shook her head out and spoke more confidently. “Yes. I would’ve.”

She heard you give a disbelieving chuckle. “But you didn’t,” you said slowly, but matter of fact. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of shocked,” you laughed further. “You felt like you didn’t have a chance with me? Are you serious?”

Jessie exhaled, eyes set on the floor as she gave a shrug of her shoulders. “Dead serious.”

“Come on. The great, unattainable, Jessie Fleming, liked me? Impossible. I mean, yeah, we were close, but you never really showed any indication of it being more. I mean, at most it must’ve been short lived.”

Jessie tried to process your words that were coming at her a mile a minute. You gave her an out. She could say it was a fleeting thing. A curiosity. But, Janine was right, this really was the chance.

“Uh,” Jessie rubbed her face distractedly, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks, “if ‘short lived’ means all through uni, then sure.”

The call was silent again and Jessie could hear her pulse throbbing inside of her head until you finally spoke again.

“Now you’re really fucking with me."

Jessie's body continued to heat up and she tugged subconsciously at the collar of her shirt.

"I've said too much already. I mean, it was obviously short lived on your end - which is totally fine."

"Why do you say that?" You questioned.

Jessie frowned, making a face and ignoring how Janine was attempting to look occupied with her own thing, but clearly eavesdropping.

"What do you mean?" Jessie asked, careful not to sound argumentative. "You dated a lot of girls in university. Well, not a lot. You know what I mean."

She heard you give a short laugh on the other end of the call before speaking wryly.

"Well, maybe - no, never mind." You exhaled lightly. "Anyway - it's all in the past, but, consider me stunned." You gave a bit of a chuckle. "I hope you're more forward with girls now than you were then. I really didn't know you had any interest."

"I was shy," Jessie offered as she scratched her temple. "Like painfully shy. And you were so pretty, and smart, and charming - I just didn't know what to do."

A glare crossed Jessie's face as Janine hopped down in front of her and mouthed 'Tell her you like her!" as she gestured wildly in the air.

"Well, now I'm extra confused about why we didn't stay in contact after university. If you liked me that much," you stated without challenge.

Jessie sighed. She'd told you enough. She didn't need to get into how desperately in love she was that she needed to cut herself off from you altogether to even have a hope of moving on.

"I mean, we don't need to rehash it all. Anyway, recap, I liked you, you were open to a date, but I stupidly didn't ask you out." Jessie chuckled, trying to keep things light. She cleared her throat and the heat that had started to fade from her face came raging back and she began to fidget. "And, um," - she glanced to Janine for reassurance - "I don't know. If you're open to it, maybe we could finally have that date. When I pick you up next time, it could be a date - for real."

She heard you hum before speaking.

"That sounds really nice. Yes. I'd like that a lot."

Jessie's eyes lit up and her posture straightened immediately as she looked to Janine excitedly. The blonde gave a boisterous, but silent celebration.

"Okay," Jessie said, her voice growing tight momentarily as she tried to remain composed. She cleared her throat and relaxed her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan, then."

A/N: Part Five is available here.

[mxstellatayte]

fuck me up, florida.

warnings: angst for the majority of it, sex at the end though, legal use of alcohol (reader and logan are both 23,) mentions of gunshot wounds, minor character death, based on a taylor swift song, childhood (middle/high school) friends to lovers, idiots in love, "you came" "you called," reader is half mexican (mom's side), slightly inaccurate bc i know carola wasn't at the miami gp but just go with it for the plot, reader's last name is rodriguez,

author's note: y'all i apologize if any of the spanish grammar is a little weird. my spanish is rusty, pls don't hate me for it

logan sargeant x female reader

i need to forget so

tuesday, april 30th.

you scan your ticket, the screen displaying your name and seat number. 12A. at least it'll be easy to sleep, you think.

after shoving your suitcase above your seat, you shuffle your way to the window and buckle yourself in.

are you really doing this? flying a couple thousand miles to visit your childhood best friend who, up until recently, had you convinced that his newfound fame that he'd gathered by announcing his enrollment in the williams driver's academy made him too good for you.

the only thing that made you think otherwise was the instagram dm he'd sent you five weeks prior, asking if you'd be able to make it to the miami grand prix. instead of a simple yes or no, you responded with the heaviest three words you've ever seen in order.

can we call?

logan picked up on the second ring.

"hey."

"hey."

"how's texas?"

you smile. "hot. sunny. flat. beachless."

"so... it's good?" you hate that you can still picture his facial expressions even after not seeing him for years except for on tv.

"'s okay, but it's not home, y'know?"

"definitely. it doesn't matter how much i decorate my place in england, it's never florida."

"nothing besides florida is ever florida," you sigh, looking out the window of your apartment. "how's the season been?" you don't exactly know why you're asking. you know exactly how his season's gone. you keep every single detail of every single race weekend meticulously catalogued in a journal that you take everywhere with you. no matter what, you've stayed up late or woken up early to watch every race, as if your hopeful energy would make its way across the world to him in time.

"honestly? it's been pretty shit. the car handles really badly and wasn't really even ready for the first few hours of testing in bahrain. i can't get it to perform and maybe that's just because i haven't linked with the car yet, but it still really sucks."

you sigh, hoping logan can't tell how disappointed you are with his team and engineers. "you need a better team, lo."

"i know." there's silence between you for a few moments, and every second that passes makes it grow heavier on your chest. "will you come to miami?"

there it is. the reason you called him.

"i don't know, lo. don't get me wrong, i'd love to, but it's really short notice and i don't know if i could afford the trip. i might be able to make it to austin, but i'll need the time to save the money for the trip."

"i'll fly you out," logan immediately says, his tone almost desperate. longing. "i'll pay for your flight, your hotel, everything. please?"

that last word hit you like a punch in the gut. you only had one more reason to not go and you weren't about to tell him that reason. it was a shitty excuse anyways.

you're not about to tell him that the reason you moved to texas was to give him the space he needed to be able to succeed in his career and for you to succeed in yours.

take me to florida

you're jolted awake by the force of the plane landing, if you can call the awkward limbo you were stuck in sleep. immediately, your stomach twists with anxiety. logan had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you refused.

"i'll just take an uber," you'd said. "i'm gonna want to relax a bit after the flight, y'know?"

his only trade-off? you met him for dinner. simple enough, right?

in theory.

now, standing in front of the full-length mirror in your hotel room, you debate between a floral sundress and a pair of denim shorts, a tank top, and a white button-up t-shirt with a colorful inkblot pattern.

you decide on the sundress.

fifteen minutes later, you're pushing earrings through your piercings, silver abstract shapes you'd bought on a trip to europe with your mother. you have to leave, but the situation you're in sucks. your hair won't sit right on your head, either being too frizzy from the humidity or losing any and all volume, and your makeup just doesn't seem like it'll last in the miami heat.

fuck it.

who are you dressing for, anyways?

logan's seen you at your absolute worst. he was the only one you let yourself cry in front of after your father died. he was the one that held you for what seemed like hours while you sobbed into his chest and he told you that none of it was your fault- that you never could have known that, when you hugged him before he left for the police station, told him you loved him, and slipped a note into his lunch box, the next time you would see him, he would be laying in a casket. he was the only one that could make you smile in the weeks following his funeral, dropping his entire schedule if you simply sent him a text that said "can you come over?"

the restaurant logan found isn't too far from your hotel, so you ultimately decide to walk. your walk is over before you're able to process that it even started and you're taking out your earbuds and putting them in your bag, taking out your phone instead to text logan.

i'm here.

i've got some regrets

were you always this breathtakingly beautiful?

logan's phone buzzes in his front pocket, but he knows it's you texting him. he doesn't even bother taking it out of his pocket before standing up from his seat at the bar and walking over to you, and when you see him, your smile almost makes his heart melt.

"hey," he says, and he hopes his voice doesn't waver from how nervous he is.

"hey. i missed you," you respond, dodging the hand he holds out and going in for a hug. "i've known you since middle school, logan, i'm not shaking your hand."

your arms around him and your body pressed against his almost makes logan short circuit. thankfully, he's able to regain control of his brain and hug you back, hopefully before you realize he isn't hugging you back.

when you pull back, the hug seeming way too brief for logan's preference, you're looking up and smiling with a sparkle in your eyes that makes him regret not making enough time for you. "thanks for bringing me out here."

"thanks for coming. do you want a drink?"

"sure. do you have a table yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"in that case, lead the way." you gesture towards the restaurant, and logan shows you to a booth in the corner. soon enough, a waiter comes over to you and sets down two glasses of water and two menus.

"welcome in, y'all. do we need a bit of time to look at the menu or do we know what we want to get started?" his southern drawl is thick, and it reminds you of texas. but you're in florida now.

"i think we'll look at the menu for a minute, thanks," logan says, and the waiter nods and walks away. as you open the menu and begin looking, logan points out something you might like and you do the same for him. conversation begins to flow freely between you, and it reminds you of the times in high school when you would go out with friends.

eventually, you decide on a plate of nachos and logan gets a plate of wings. as you wait for your food, you catch up on everything: your move to texas, logan's racing career, your work volunteering with the austin philharmonic, his homesickness from living in england, and everything in between. you crack stupid jokes, share bites of food, and steal sips of each other's drinks.

it's like old times.

i'll bury them in florida

on wednesday, you and logan drive up to visit your father's headstone. it's difficult. it's only the third time you've visited him since he was buried three years ago. the first time you visited him was a year after he died. even a year later, you still carried so much anger and hatred towards the doctors and nurses that were operating on him, trying desperately to save his life after two bullets hit him- one in his leg, one in his torso.

he died on the table.

the second time was just a few months after, and you were still wearing your cap, gown, and stole from your graduation ceremony. by then, you had been able to forgive the doctors and had graduated in the top 10% of your class. four years of hell had finally rewarded you with a degree in instrumental performance and an internship at the south florida symphony orchestra.

now, the third time, you have a picnic blanket and lunch packed into the backseat of logan's car, the windows are rolled down, and your favorite playlist is shuffled on the aux. it's a beautiful day, too; it isn't too hot (even with the humidity,) there's a gentle breeze in the air, and clouds occasionally cover the sun. when logan pulls into the parking lot of the cemetery and you sling your tote bag full of food over your shoulder, your hands start shaking.

of course, logan notices.

his hand slides into your own, and you look up at him. his eyes meet yours and you smile. "thank you for coming with me," you say.

"of course. i didn't want you to have to do this alone."

you look back at the gate into the cemetery, the black bars menacingly sleek and very, very terrifying. you chew your lower lip in anxiety. "i don't know if i can do it, logan."

"i'm here with you. i know you. you're strong. you aren't the kind of person to let a gate scare you." you laugh lightly, looking down at the ground. the gravel of the parking lot, your scuffed, beat-up high top purple converse, and logan's nike dunks make up what you have to describe as a perfect picture. your phone is in your free hand before you know it, and you're lining up the shot. "still into photography, huh?"

"yep. i have some cameras in my suitcase at the hotel." when you pocket your phone and look back up at him, logan's heart melts. the shine in your eyes and the passion in your smile is enough to soften anyone's heart, but for him, as someone who's known you for years and has been there for you through thick and thin, it touches him in such a special way. "i'm hoping to get some good photos of the races. but enough delaying. let's go visit my dad."

the creak of the gates opening makes your ears bleed, and you laugh at how logan is making the exact same face as you in reaction to such a shrill sound. despite only having visited his headstone twice before, you remember exactly where in the cemetery it is and are able to find it within five minutes.

"hi, dad," you begin, your voice already wavering just the slightest and tears beginning to well in your eyes. logan's hand squeezes yours, though, and you're reminded that he's right there. he always will be. you take a deep breath and continue. "i miss you. we all do. i know i haven't visited you in a while, and i'm sorry about that. i really do have to come stop by every now and then. i moved to austin and have a volunteering gig with the austin philharmonic at almost every show and i have a job at a company that helps students with learning disabilities learn instruments. it's really fun." you pause to wipe the tears off of your cheeks, your nose beginning to drip. "sam is in his junior year of college, and he's majoring in engineering. he flew the coop, but he still comes home for the summers. he, uh, he actually got in to c.u. boulder, like he always talked about. that kid was always thinking about college, even in middle school.

"i'm actually here with logan, too, if you hadn't noticed. do you, uh, do you want to fill him in on what's going on with you, or should i keep going?"

"whatever you prefer."

"okay, i'm going to keep talking, because i think if i don't, i'm going to completely break down. logan finally signed with williams to drive on their formula 1 team last year, like i always said he would. i'm really proud of him and really regret not telling him that more, and now that i'm saying it out loud i'm promising both you and him that i'll tell him that more often. the race this weekend is actually here, in florida. miami, specifically. it's always a celebrity shit show that no one really wants to see, but it's the main opportunity for the celebrity sponsors to actually go to a race.

"what else has been going on? oh, mom is still a therapist. i can't tell you much about that because of hipaa, but she always comes home saying that she's glad that she could help someone. i'm gonna have dinner with her tomorrow night, and then i'm going back into miami to watch logan's practice sessions."

you pause your rambling, thinking about what there is to say next, but your thought is interrupted by your stomach grumbling. loud. you and logan laugh just as loudly, the sound echoing through the grass field and stone gravesites. "oh, yeah, that's another thing. we brought lunch. i also got you pink tulips, because i know they're your favorite." you delicately rest the bouquet on your father's headstone as you sit down, then pull out the different plastic containers filled with food you'd stolen from the williams hospitality. "you'd be proud of me, dad. i smuggled this entire picnic out of the wiliams motorhome without a hiccup. robin hood style."

logan laughs, and you turn to him. he's mirrored your position, sitting cross-legged on the grass. "apple?"

"nah, i'm gonna start with my sandwich. i did grab you some of the salt and vinegar chips i know you like."

the look logan gives you can only be described as pure adoration. "you," he says, pointing a finger at you in an incredibly sassy manner, "are an absolute goddess."

"i know," you respond cheekily, tossing some hair over your shoulder.

the banter between the two of you continues through your picnic, laughter and smiles erasing the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks and on logan's. you're almost able to forget where you are.

tell me i'm despicable

almost two hours later, the two of you are laying in a nearby park underneath a tree, peacefully observing the clouds that pass overhead and talking even more about any topic that comes to your mind. the question that's been gnawing at you since your plane landed in miami eventually bubbles to the surface, and it tumbles past your lips before you can stop it.

"did you ever wonder why i moved to texas?" you look to your left where logan rests, but he keeps looking up at the sky. you mirror him.

"i always assumed it was just because you needed a change of scenery. after everything that happened and your music career taking off, it would make sense that you would relocate to somewhere better suited for you."

"that's the thing, though. if i'm being entirely honest with you, lo, i hate texas. i hate the whole state. i hate how hot it is all the time without even being humid, i hate not being able to go to the beach. i hate how dry it is. i hate how flat it is. i hate the monotony of it. i hate not being here."

logan hesitates for a moment before speaking, and it's the longest moment you've ever experienced. "why did you move to austin, then?"

when he looks over at you, you're chewing your lower lip. it's a nervous tic, logan's noticed. he's not even sure if you know you do it. "honestly? i thought you moved on from our friendship. i thought everything with f1 suddenly got so big and important and famous that maybe i wasn't... enough? i thought that being a police officer's daughter from the same town as you that was studying to teach people how to understand and play music maybe just wasn't cool enough to be friends with a world-renowned formula 1 driver."

logan's heart almost shatters when he hears the weakness in your voice. you sound so broken and so alone. he knew that, when you lost your father, you isolated yourself from a lot of people, even your best friend from high school and through your first year of college. he was the only person outside of your immediate family that you spent a decent amount of time with, but when he was admitted to the driver's academy he had to move to england. he abandoned you.

"i didn't. i never forgot about you. sometimes i still look through the photos we have together because i miss you that much."

you sit up, tears pricking your eyes for the second time that day. "really?"

"yeah. maybe once a week?"

when you look down at logan, you're suddenly starstruck. you can't help but notice all of his little features that you wouldn't see if you didn't know to look for them. his freckles that are so light you'd have to squint to see them if you didn't know them like the back of your hand. the mole on his chin that he'd always been self-conscious about but you've always seen it as beautiful. the lines from where his eyes crinkle when he smiles. the annoyingly perfect flop of his hair that he's styled almost the exact same way since you started high school together. an urge you haven't felt in years suddenly bubbles, white-hot in the pit of your stomach, and it's boiling over before you can stop it. your eyes are closed and your lips are on his. finally. after years of wanting, of stares that lasted just a bit too long to be just friendly, of flushed faces and nervous excuses, you're finally kissing him.

but he's not kissing you back.

you pull back immediately, panicked that you read something wrong. you turn away, hiding your face in your hands out of shame. "shit, logan, i'm so sorry. i thought-"

"kiss me again." logan sits up, and when you turn around, the look he's giving you can only be described as completely and entirely fucked. you don't question his statement, just lean forward, placing your lips on his, and letting yourself melt. he moans softly into the kiss, his right arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. when you pull away and open your eyes, your breath catches in your throat. he looks beautiful. his eyes remain closed, but when they flutter open, you see colors in them that you've never seen before. sure, you've always seen the darker rim of blue that outlines his irises, but now that you're so close to him, you can see the flecks of green and grey in them. it's the most stunning thing you've ever seen.

eventually, you break the silence between the two of you. "i've wanted to kiss you for so long," you whisper, so quiet you're not sure logan heard it.

but he did.

"me, too," he says, and after a beat of silence between you two, you both burst out laughing. the laugh he hears from you is the pure, bright laugh that logan's missed so dearly, the laugh that you only really let him hear. the laugh that has tears in your eyes and makes you snort because you're laughing so hard you can't even breathe properly.

eventually, when you're able to calm down, your head resting on logan's shoulder, your hand holding his, you're able to process what just happened. you just hope logan is processing it, too.

"we just kissed."

"yes. we did."

"how long have you held out on me?"

"since christmas of sophomore year. when you made me the chevron bracelet with my favorite colors."

you laugh, then lift your head to look at him. "i fell for you in october of that year. when you convinced your mom to drive two and a half hours for the marching band state finals. just so you could be there with me."

"god, we're idiots," logan laughs. you can't help but lean forward and press another kiss to his lips, lingering there and just breathing him in.

existing.

say it's unforgivable

the next two days fly by. thursday, you spend the day with your mother. she asks all sorts of questions as if she doesn't know the answers, and you answer each one with a smile on your face. when she asks about logan, you smile sheepishly. she figures out what the smile means.

"took you two long enough."

normally you'd still be in bed at 9:30 am on a friday, but today, you walk into the miami paddock clutching logan's hand for dear life. your neon green pass hangs from your neck, a white williams cap atop your head. you can't help but feel out of place, but someone calls logan's name and you both turn. your stomach drops when you see who's called his name. his hair is styled similarly to logan's, and he sports a papaya polo.

you'd know him anywhere. it's oscar piastri.

you're standing there a bit awkwardly as logan greets his friend, but your heart stops when oscar turns to you. "oscar, this is my girlfriend." he introduces you by your name to the mclaren driver and you wipe your hands on your denim shorts before shaking his hand firmly, exchanging "nice to meet you"s. the three of you chat for a few minutes before oscar is summoned by his pr manager.

"girlfriend, huh?" you look up at logan with a smile on your face, lacing his fingers with yours.

"i didn't mean to overstep, but i kind of assumed that's what this is now. is it?" he looks a bit nervous asking that, and if you thought your love for him couldn't grow any more, you thought wrong.

"that's absolutely what we are, lo. you're my boyfriend. i'm your girlfriend." you can tell just how hard logan's trying to not let the smile on his face show just how happy he is to hear you say that, and you stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips briefly. "you have a prep meeting to get to, don't you?"

"i do. come with me, though. i need to introduce you to alex and lily. she can show you around."

"sounds like a plan. i need to learn how to do all of..." you gesture around you, the white tents and media carts all seeming suddenly too intimidating. "...this."

logan laughs, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the williams hospitality. when you're next to him, though, despite the cameras around you and your proximity to some of the world's biggest stars, you feel safe and protected.

after meeting logan's teammate and the thai driver's girlfriend, who you quickly realize is one of the sweetest people you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, you're shown around the williams hospitality and, eventually, the paddock. lily introduces you to the other drivers' wives and girlfriends that have made it to the weekend, and when you hear a certain last name, your ears perk up.

"martinez? is she latina?"

"yeah," kika, pierre's girlfriend, says. "she's checo's wife. i'm pretty sure she's in the red bull hospitality right now, though."

"ah, speak of the devil," lily says. you see carola walking up to the five of you, alexandra ("please, honey, call me alex," she'd said, bringing you in for a kiss on your cheek,) having walked away to get a drink and escape into the sweet air conditioning. "carola, there's a new couple on the paddock."

"you're kidding," the latina answers, her accent apparent. "who?"

"logan found himself a girlfriend. allow me to introduce her." lily turns to you and introduces you by your full name, last name and all. it seems that carola has a similar reaction to your last name as you did to hers, and her head tilts to the side.

"ya no eres la única mexicana aquí," you say, and her eyebrows raise. (you aren't the only mexican here anymore.)

"hablas español, también?" (you speak spanish, too?) when you nod, her smile brightens. "hay, chica, creo que nosotras dos nos vamos a llevar muy bien." (oh, girl, i think we're going to get along very well.)

on saturday, you find yourself back in the williams motorhome, except this time, you wear a second badge, the neon green lanyard reading grid access in bold black lettering. like the day before, you clutch logan's hand for your own comfort until, much to your dismay, he's summoned for driver duties. you place a quick kiss on his cheek, and when you pull back, you aren't sure if the flush on his cheeks is from the affection or the miami heat. probably both.

"in case i don't see you before sprint. for luck."

"oh, you'll be in the garage. that's what this pass is for," logan says, holding your second badge in front of your face. "lily will show you where to go. i'll take a kiss anyways, though." you smile, stand on your toes, and kiss him, pulling back before he can wrap an arm around your waist. (that was a trick he very much enjoyed, as you'd learned the night before. there was something in him that needed you as close to him as possible, and it covered every nerve ending in your body in liquid fire.)

"off you go. you need to get race ready. i'll see you before you go out on the grid. don't worry." you gently shove him away with a smile, and you'd stare at him longer if your ankles weren't suddenly being attacked. you look down and squeal. "hi, leo! did your dad let you run free?" you squat down and scratch the mini daschund behind his disproportionally large ears, and he barks excitedly.

someone curses in french to your right, and you look up from the little golden ball of energy to see none other than charles leclerc frantically searching around. leo barks again, and the monégasque whips around, then locks eyes on you first, then his dog.

"merde, leo. you have too much energy for it being this early in the morning," he laughs as he walks over to you.

"i apologize, it appears i've unintentionally kidnapped your dog." you stand, and leo jumps at your calves again.

"ah, no harm, no foul," charles replies, picking up his dog and holding him close to his chest. "i will say, though, you look strangely familiar. have we met? my name is charles."

"we have not." you extend your hand and offer your name, and, when charles' eyebrows furrow and his head tilts in confusion, you realize that means nothing to him. "i'm logan's girlfriend."

"ah! yes, of course! he has a photo of the two of you at your high school graduation in his wallet. that's where i knew you from. well, it's nice to meet you!" that was news to you. logan has a picture of you in his wallet? either way, you just casually met one of the most famous people in the world like it was a standard tuesday.

if this is what i signed up for by being logan's girlfriend, then it is absolutely wild.

you're able to catch another good luck kiss with logan as he's almost fully suited up, and fuck, does he look good. his fireproof suit hangs low on his hips, the arms tied together in front of him. dark blue is a good color on him, and his facial hair is grown out in just the slightest. you can't lie, he looks hot as hell.

you cross your legs in an attempt to curb the heat that creeps down your tummy and between them. it doesn't work.

you amend it that night in logan's hotel room following his p10 in the sprint.

on sunday, you try to avoid thinking about the night before as you follow the same routine as the two days before- arriving early in the day, checking in at the williams motorhome, and then killing time until the driver's parade at 2:00 PM. you spend time with your new group of friends, spending the three remaining hours before the parade in the paddock club. rebecca, carlos' girlfriend, snickers at your shocked face when you see some of your idols and favorite celebrities casually walking around, gladly taking some photos for you as you're practically buzzing with excitement.

after the driver's parade, it's a whirlwind. you're swept back into the williams garage and find logan's driver's room relatively easily thanks to the help of some of the engineers and mechanics, but one of them stops you before you can venture too far into the depths of the hallways.

"could you tell him we have the pre-race strategy meeting in twenty minutes?"

"yeah, for sure." as you approach logan's door, you have to bite down on your lower lip to stifle the grin that wants to split your face. you knock on his door, and when he opens it, you know something's wrong. "lo, are you okay?" his eyes are red and his hand shakes on the doorknob. instead of a verbal response, he just opens the door a bit further to let you in, and, as soon as it shuts behind you, he sobs, and your heart shatters.

"i'm so scared. i'm so scared that something's going to happen and i'm going to let all of these people down and-" you gather him into your arms and he cries into the crook of your neck, your williams crewneck shirt now damp with his tears. you couldn't care less.

"you're going to do amazing, logie. i know you will." with your arms wrapped around him, it's almost like a weighted blanket of safety has encompassed him, and his sobs slow, his breaths growing deeper and more even. you continue murmuring words of confidence into his shoulder, and not a single word you say is empty.

"hey. look at me." you lean back and gently cup his cheek with your right palm, and when his eyes meet yours, you know that he needed to cry that one out. "do you feel a little bit better?" logan nods, tilting his head ever so slightly to kiss your palm, his own hand coming up to rest over yours. it's a cute, sappy, stupidly romantic moment that you from three weeks ago would've probably thought was the grossest thing known to mankind, but you can't help but bask in the moment. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better right now?" your voice is a soothing balm over logan's agitated nerves, and he slowly untangles himself from you and guides you over to the couch that's against the back wall, where he sits down and you curl up to his left side.

"can you just... talk? about anything?"

"are you seriously asking if me, the person with the most rampant adhd you've ever met, can talk about something? yes, logan, i absolutely can. what to talk about, though?"

as you talk, deciding to info dump about your favorite classical music piece, logan can't help but watch it unfold. he doesn't know jack shit about music theory, but listening to you ramble about something you're passionate about brings him so much peace. you're disturbed about fifteen minutes later by a knock at the door, promptly followed by a disembodied voice telling logan that it was time for the strategy meeting.

"aw, shit," he says, leaning his head back and rubbing at his eyes. "i have that to go to now."

"yeah, sorry. i was supposed to tell you about that but we had a bigger problem on our hands." your voice is sheepish now that your info dump has been cut short, but logan leans over to you and kisses you, soft and slow, just like the first time he kissed you properly in the park. when he pulls away, he looks so much calmer than he was twenty minutes before. "is there anything else i can do?"

"go have some fun in the paddock. and please drink some water." you roll your eyes and stand, bringing him in for another hug before you slip out of the door.

almost two hours later, you're back in the williams garage with a guest headset over your ears. your stomach twists with nerves as the national anthem concludes. lily's hand is clasped with yours.

"the first lap is the worst. after that, you lose a lot of the anxiety," she assures you, noticing how you chew your lower lip.

"thanks." you pause for a moment, contemplating another question. "does it ever get easier? seeing how they go out there and drive like absolute maniacs for fun?"

"it does. it took me a couple of months, but after alex showed me all of the safety features in the car and in his fireproofs, it definitely helped."

it's the moment you've been dreading.

one red light.

two.

three.

four.

five.

and then none.

the engines roar and the race has begun. lily didn't lie to you- the first lap is excruciatingly long, but when everyone's completed their first loop around the circuit, you let yourself breathe. your eyes are trained on the screen above you, and the laps are flying by so quickly that you barely process that the race is nearly halfway over.

but then logan's car is in the wall. fuck.

as you watch the replay of his crash, you can feel white-hot rage burning in your body. after the race stewards only declare a ten-second penalty and two super license points, though, you're fuming. "two penalty points and a ten-second penalty? magnussen caused logan's race to end, and they just let him go? they just forgive him and move on? how can he get away with that? this is bullshit!"

what a crash, what a rush

the first person logan looks for when he walks back into the williams garage, his visor still low over his eyes in shame, is you. when you see him walking towards the room where you and lily watch the race, you tear the headset off of your ears and run to him. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and hearing his heartbeat even through your musician's earplugs soothes your agitated nerves. he's okay. he's alive. he isn't hurt. "thank fuck you're okay," you say, even though he definitely can't hear you through his helmet and over the roar of passing engines. when you pull away, you press a kiss to his knuckles and hope he understands how much love you're trying to convey through such a small gesture.

fuck me up, florida!

one of logan's best friends on the grid is oscar. oscar's teammate got his maiden win after almost five years of waiting in miami.

like any sensible person, you celebrate with him.

you have no idea what the name of the club is, much less how many drinks you've had so far, but what you do know is that lando has commandeered the dj station and logan is pressed against your back, his hands resting on your hips. the air is hot and thick, your heartbeat pounds in your head. the opening notes of bad bunny's tití me preguntó begin playing through the massive speakers, and you shoot a glare up to lando that he doesn't see, his focus instead on the equipment in front of him. when the bass hits, though, you let all apprehensiveness go and your genetics take the reins. your hips sway and swing to the beat, your hands wander up and down your torso, and logan simply follows your lead. it takes you a moment to realize that, if you want to get a rise out of him, you're going to have to spin around and face him.

with your hips swaying against his and how unbearably beautiful you look in the dim light, your skin glowing with sweat and your hair up in a high ponytail, logan can't help but lean down and kiss you when you finally turn around. you reciprocate gladly, your right leg slotting between both of his, and...

oh.

oh.

he's hard.

you pull away slightly, barely an inch between your lips. "slow your roll there, tiger."

"i don't want to." fire zips down your spine at the sound of his voice, low and breathy and so, so desperate. "need to fuck you."

"should we get outta here, then?"

"i thought you'd never ask." you smile and kiss him quickly, then take his hand and weave your way through the crowded dance floor. as the miami night air hits your face, you immediately feel cooler. you sigh, taking a moment to breathe and regulate your heart rate and body temperature, but you can't breathe for that long before logan wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him and kissing your neck. you laugh, running your hands along his forearms.

"logan, not here. the hotel is two blocks away."

"i can't help it, baby, you just look so pretty," he hums, kissing the back of your neck once more before pulling away and stepping around to face you. "you look so pretty, and you're mine."

his possessiveness of you makes more heat zip down your spine, and you almost drool at how he's looking at you. his eyes, normally a beautiful mix between the blues of the sky and sea, ar"e almost completely dark, only a small sliver of his irises remaining, and the muscles in his jaw tick. "hotel. now."

by the time you reach the door to logan's hotel room, you're both out of breath from how hard he kissed you in the elevator and the arousal and need between your legs won't be stopped unless he replaces it. you stumble through the door and try to kiss logan again, matching the vigor he showed you in the elevator, but he stops you. "wanna take my time with you tonight."

"yeah?" you raise an eyebrow and inspect his face. the blinds are open but no lights are on, so all you can see is the side of his face that's illuminated by the lights from the streets of miami. it's an unusually beautiful sight.

"yeah. nothing about what i'm about to do to you is going to be fast. i'm gonna make you feel good tonight. how's that sound?"

"that sounds amazing, logan." you lean forward and kiss him gently, your lips slotting together as if you were made for each other. who knows, maybe you were. the next five minutes are a blur, but before you know it, you're laying back against the pillows on logan's bed and his face is buried between your thighs, his tongue working magic on your clit. the air in the hotel room is filled with your moans and the sounds of logan devouring you like a man starved, and it's the most beautiful mix of sounds you've ever heard. when he flicks his tongue oh-so-perfectly against your entrance, his nose brushing over your clit, you moan and pull his hair hard, which, in turn, makes him moan against you.

you aren't sure how much time passes or how many orgasms logan pulls from you with just his tongue and his fingers, but when you feel completely and entirely spent, your chest heaving and your hairline sparkling with tiny beads of sweat, you pull logan up to you by his shoulders, and he looks completely and entirely fucked. "need you inside of me," you mumble, wiping at the mix of spit and cum that coats the entire bottom half of his face with your thumbs. as if on instinct, you bring your hands to your mouth and lick them clean, and logan groans at the sight. "inside. now."

"as you wish, baby." logan's hands fumble at his boxers, the only item of clothing he was left wearing, and when he finally, finally pushes himself into you, you both moan. your hands scrabble at his shoulders and back, most definitely leaving red marks that will raise later, and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down and then gently kissing over the red spot.

"nngh, lo-" your brain is short circuiting, logan's cock filling you up so perfectly and absolutely ruining you for any other man ever.

"yeah? you okay, baby?" he pulls back from your neck and scans your face for any sign of discomfort of pain, his sky blue eyes searching your own. the feeling of safety you get from just that one action is almost enough to make you sob from how good you feel because of him, both physically and emotionally.

"feels so good, lo. j'st... move, please."

"you sure? i don't wanna hurt you."

"positive. now please." you reach a hand up and pull him down towards you by the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard. "fuck me properly." without wasting a second, logan reaches a hand down and hooks it under your left thigh, bringing your leg up to rest around his waist, then pulling back and thrusting back in fast. the moan that rips itself from your throat is sinful, and your breath is being punched from your lungs at the downright brutal pace logan's setting. your right leg finds itself locking around his waist, only bringing him infinitely closer, and now, each time he thrusts back into you, your clit bumps against his pelvis. within minutes, you're embarrassingly close to cumming again, and through your garbled mumbling and clawing at his shoulders, he understands, reaching his right hand down to gently press against your clit.

"cum for me, baby, please, need to feel you cum for me just one more time, just let go, i've got you." it's logan's voice that ultimately sends you pummelling over the edge into an orgasm that makes your back arch and your vision fuzz at the edges, and you cum with a cry of his name. his hips slow and his fingers maintain a steady rhythm on your clit, but you can tell it's taking its toll on him. "where- where do you want me to cum?"

"i'm on the pill, lo. inside, baby, please," you whine, and it takes two more thrusts before logan groans, his hips coming to a shuddering halt as he cums inside of you. it's a beautiful sight, too- his eyes scrunched closed and his eyebrows drawn together, his hair a complete mess from where your hands had pulled at it. your hands run through his hair and along his back, and you patiently wait as he comes back to earth.

"hi," he murmurs, opening his eyes and smiling down at you.

"hi," you respond.

no other words need to be said. you know you love him, and he knows he loves you.

and you're both okay with that.

this took me way longer to write than i thought it would, but i absolutely love it! reminder that my asks and requests are open, and i always get excited when i get feedback! take care of urselves lovies <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"We can't thank you enough," your mother clasps her hands together, "are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"

"I gotta get back," Walter huffs, hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets, "but I'll be back in the morning."

"You will?" You mom bats her lashes in surprise as you glance over from peeling potatoes.

"Yep," he nods as he looks around, meeting your gaze briefly before turning his attention back to your mother, "gonna help the kid with planting."

"What? You can't-- Walter, we... we could never pay you back," she fans herself.

"I'm not asking for anything," he shrugs, "I kinda owe Pat. He's always been good to me."

"Oh my gosh, and he will appreciate it so much," she touches her cheeks as her voice cracks, "we really can't afford to turn away help but you will be stayin' for dinner. It's the least we can do."

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, "but you don't work yourself too hard. You gotta make sure to get Pat back on his feet before you worry about me."

"Oh," she sniffles and dabs her nose with her knuckle, "I'm so sorry, it's been such a difficult week."

"Ma," you come around and offer her a paper towel from the role, your own eyes stinging.

"Anyways, I...I'll go now," Walter says stringently.

"Thank you," you eke out as you hug your mother and she buries her face in your shoulder.

He nods at you as he passes, continuing into the hallway. You rock your mother and crane to watch him go, his broad shoulders stretching the cotton henley. He peeks into the front room as he stops to get his boots on, staring in at your dad, still blank in his recliner.

You tear your eyes away as your mom pulls back and wipes her cheeks, "uh, I'm a mess."

"It's alright, ma," you assure.

"I hope so," she murmurs as her throat tightens, "I really do."

🌾

As promised, Walter returns early the next morning. You're in the kitchen putting on a pot of coffee as you hear his truck. You leave the percolator to boil as you sweep down the hall, yawning into the crook of your elbow as you near the front door.

You open in and stand inside the screen, watching his headlights fade as he shuts off the engine. He steps out, grabbing a beaten metal lunch pail out behind him. It hangs from a thick leather strap; you wonder if he takes it down to the mill for his shifts.

"Morning," he comes up the steps, "Timothy up?"

"He's getting there," you say evasively, "you want some coffee?"

"Brought my own," he shows the thermos strapped to the top of the lunch pail.

"Hm, well, why don't you come in while you wait? Tim will be up soon, I'm sure."

"I don't mind," he says.

"I hate to leave you out here," you insist, "ma's upstairs with dad," you explain, "pretty quiet in here. Not used to that."

"Mm," he grumbles and bows his head. He grabs the screen door as he steps forward, catching it as you retreat ahead of him.

He enters and you scurry back to the kitchen as you hear the percolator thrumming, the lid shaking noisily. You take out a cup for yourself and one for Timothy. Walter enters and you turn to him as he looks around placidly.

"You're right. It's quiet," he agrees.

You give a shaky smile and go to the fridge. You take out the packet of bacon wrapped in brown paper and put it on the counter.

"I'm making breakfast. Ma and dad will be hungry. You like bacon or sausage?" You ask.

He considers you. You face him, awaiting his answer. He watches you, his expression hard to read.

"You don't have to worry about me," he states.

"I'm not worried, I'm just... offering," you placate.

His blue eyes make you nervous as they bore into you. Like everything else he does, he watches you with intent. What it is, you don't know.

He hums and nods, as if agreeing with something you said. You arch a brow curiously as he tilts his head and drops his eyes to the counter. He steps up to the island and puts his pail down.

"I'll do the eggs," he says.

"Oh, please, sir--"

"Walt," he intones.

"Walt, sorry," you squirm. There's something different about him. He's just as steely as ever but much more... there. You always felt like he didn't see you before.

"No sorries," he waves you off and goes to the fridge, opening the door and searching until he sees the eggs. "You seem like the sunny side up type."

"I do?" You wonder as he plucks out eggs one at a time.

"I think so," he says softly, a grit in his throat.

"Hm," you scrunch your lips up, "I don't mind it. I usually have french toast. That's how I liked my eggs."

"Not really eggs..."

"There's eggs on the bread," you argue, "and cinnamon, and a little icing sugar."

He scoffs and his cheek dimples. It's as close to a smile as you've ever seen from him. He places the eggs on the counter before he goes back for more.

"What about you? How do you like your eggs?" You ask before the tension can grow stifling.

"I take two hard-boiled eggs to work. A slice of rye, carrots, cashews, and dried berries. For lunch, I have ham and cheese. Most days, I miss lunch. Too busy."

He speaks matter-of-factly. He does seem like a man of routine. You never thought very much about what he did beyond his visits, but it makes sense.

"I usually forget lunch too," you grin, "but I make up for it at dinner."

He snorts again, setting down another handful of eggs. "I'll do some scrambled," he rolls one aside on its own, "and some french toast for you."

"Oh, M-Walt," you stammer, "that's--"

"I like to keep busy. Keeps me focused," he says sternly.

"Oh, uh, okay," you relent, "I'll... go get Timothy," you look at the clock, "he said he'd be up ten minutes ago."

"His own fault if he doesn't have time to eat," Walter tuts. "Grown man."

"Sure is," you agree as you breeze around the counter, "be right back."

You get to the door before he responds, "I'll be here, sweetheart."

You're in the hall before you register what he said. You falter and stop at the bottom step before you can ascend the stairs. You look back to the kitchen, staring at Walter's shoulders as he cracks eggs into a bowl.

Sweetheart... you don't think you've ever heard a morsel of affection from the man. He didn't even laugh at your father's jokes. Well, there is a lot going on. He's just being nice because your dad's sick.

[chrisevansonly]

𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 | 𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊

☁︎ oscar piastri x female reader

☁︎ oscar is experiencing thanksgiving with your family for the first time….and boy is it crazy

☁︎ no warnings just fluff and maybe a tad overwhelmed oscar lol

☁︎ i can’t believe october is starting to come to an end, these little fall fics have been making me so happy, i think ill do another one in december too to get ready for christmas 🤭 p.s thanksgiving in canada is beginning of october in contrast to the USA which is end of november in case you’re confused :)

Thanksgiving was a little chaotic in your family, when everyone gathered together and all sat down for the annual fall meal, only this year it was your boyfriend Oscar’s first time attending it with you. He knew you got your vibrant and extroverted personality from your parents, but now that he looks back on it, he’s pretty sure your entire family played a part in it.

“Oscar when do you and my little sunshine plan on having children hmm?” your grandma asked, causing you to choke on your water

“Nana!”

Oscar laughed patting your back gently to help with your coughing

“I think whenever the time is right, we’re in no rush”

“Well you’re only getting older!”

You shook your head at the old woman’s antics your mother stepping in before you

“Mom, leave these two alone, they’re both still in their early twenties, no babies for them, eat your turkey”

“Never too early to have a baby, such nonsense!”

Leaning over to Oscar you looked at him apologetically

“I’m sorry, she’s very persistent”

He only smiled, kissing your forehead as he squeezed your knee under the table

“I don’t mind at all, it’ll happen someday anyway”

The two of you may have been young but you both knew that you were endgame for each other, there was no one else on earth more perfect for either of you, and everyone was starting to see that.

“So Oscar, i’ve been watching your season, looks pretty good this year”

It was your father’s time to chime in, Oscar nodding as he gave your father 100% of his attention.

“Yes, it’s been going really well, the car feels good this year, so i’m looking forward to finishing the next few races and then having some time off” he replied, a bit hesitantly as he always did with your dad

“That’s good to hear, I’d love to come see a race sometime”

You smiled

“You should come to Las Vegas with us dad! You and mom have been wanting to go back there so why not?”

In hindsight you should have asked Oscar first if he was okay with this, but knowing him, he wouldn’t mind at all. He loved spending time with your family as much as you did with his.

“Oh that’s a great idea honey, i’m sure we can figure something out!”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch, calm conversation and laughter shared between everyone, you could already feel the classic thanksgiving hangover hitting you as you lounged on the couch tucked into Oscar’s side, your eyes heavy and tired.

“NO YOU JUST SLAPPED ME WITH ANOTHER PICK UP UP 4 IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

Oscar laughed hearing your little cousins playing uno in the other room as you rolled your eyes. If anyone was the loudest on these holidays it was the kiddos.

“YEAH WELL YOU JUST SUCK AT THE GAME THEN!”

It wasn’t long before your aunt went in there and told them off, quiet chatter resuming after the mini scream fest over the classical card game had ensued. Truth be told you were nervous for Oscar to experience thanksgiving with your family because you weren’t always put together and fancy, you were loud and energetic, your family loved playing games, having treasure hunts and playing games of charades.

You knew deep down it wouldn’t everyone’s cup of tea but Oscar wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d never felt more comfortable and at home like he did with you when you visited your family. It made him feel normal and accepted, he didn’t have to worry about the media, the race track or the constant murmurs going around the paddock.

“How was your first thanksgiving experience love?”

He smiled down at you, his finger tips running up and down your back

“I loved it, really it was so much, I can’t wait to keep experiencing this craziness with you”

“Oscar loves the thanksgiving craziness…never thought i’d say that”

The Aussie laughed leaning down to kiss you

“Well now I get to experience a different craziness from yours everyday”

“Hey!”

You frowned jokingly but he was quick to once again bring his lips to yours, deepening the kiss enough to have your face flush, thankfully your family too enamoured in their own activities to notice your little display of affection.

“I love you and all your craziness darling, it’s what makes you, you.” he stated softly, taking his time to admire you

“I love you more.”

Oscar had all he needed right in front of him, he’d never felt more welcomed and appreciated than he did right now, curled up on the couch at your parents house after a delicious dinner, something he would continue to be apart of for years…and years to come.

[piratefishmama]

Beware The Thorns | Part 1

(a NSFW multi-part ficlet)

“Who was that Eds?”

“Mind your business, shithead” Eddie pocketed his phone, he recognised the number the moment it flashed up on his work phone, a device he always had on him regardless of where he was, he could be at a FUNERAL, and he’d have that phone on him.

In this instance however, it was merely a family dinner. Well… family and the Henderson’s, so yeah. Family. He’d excused himself upstairs and answered as soon as he was out of earshot.

Evidently, he’d been followed.

“I heard you say you loved them… are you seeing someone?” Eddie tried really hard to not be insulted by his tone, a weird mixture of disturbed amazement, with just a dash of disbelief for flavour. Was it that much of a stretch to see him dating someone?

Was it that unbelievable to the person he’d practically grown up with, that he could find someone who’d like him?

Maybe it was. Didn’t mean he had to like it; his job had kept him away from actually… dating anyone.

“Maybe I am, again, mind your damn business.” Of course they didn’t know what he was, what he did to earn his money, he’d spun some lie years ago about an online business because ‘rockstar’ had to… actually have evidence, he had an actual legitimate website to keep the lie going, nothing ever really went through it, but… it worked to keep the questions at bay.

Nobody asked, and he didn’t tell, he was a grown ass adult, he didn’t NEED to tell anyone.

Dustin sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, good… he’d have never gotten anything out of him anyway “fine, fine don’t tell me… don’t tell meee, your only brother.”

“We’re not even relat—”

“The best man at your future wedding.”

“Since when was I getting marri—”

“The Wan Kenobi to your Obi.”

“What the—”

“I am happy for you though, the both of you! I hope you’ll bring him home someday, I’m sure we’d all like to meet him” Eddie’s eyes widened… he’d never… fuck … he’d never said anyth— “What, you think you’re all crafty? C’mon Eddie, you can’t even sit normally.”

“The fuck has that got to do with anything?!”

“Y’know… gay people… they can’t sit properly… in chairs…? Is that wrong?” at least that proved that Dustin could be uncertain about some things.

“You’ve been on that stupid app again, haven’t you?” He had the decency to look guilty at the very least. “The fuck have I told you?”

“It’s dumb and addictive and I should stop, BUT IT’S HELPING ME LEARN!”

“It’s filling your head with bullshit! Fine, I’m gay, what the fuck ever. Go back downstairs for the love of all that is holy, and just give me a minute to process that you’ve been theorising my sexuality based on how I sit, and don’t you DARE tell anyone.”

“Oh, c’mon Eddie! You’re old enough to come out now, you have your own place, your own business! Plus, we all love you, no judgement here, this is a judgy free zone.”

“I will rip out your larynx and shove it up your ass if you even THINK of telling them.”

“But… how will you know if i’m thi—okay I won’t say anything, i wouldn't say anything. Not my place.” Eddie had levelled him with a look, a single, rage squint look, a look which promised imminent pain if he did not take his nosy ass and remove it from his presence, and he’d accepted that look for what it was. A promise.

Not just a threat.

“I’m gonna have to go early, my… my boyfriend, will be home tonight, the ridiculous idiot never has food in so I’m gonna go sort that out.”

“You’re buying his food for him? Eddie… that’s… he’s not just using you for money is he cause that’s really bad.”

“No dumbass, he’ll give it me back.”

“Right away?”

“YES, right away.”

“Not just promises he doesn’t intend to keep?”

“Dustin, I will brutally murder each and every one of your characters in graphic detail within five minutes of every campaign for the next year if you do not—”

“Okay!” Hands up in surrender, Dustin took a step backwards, a threat to his precious characters was no laughing matter, even if Eddie would struggle to make that kind of threat happen, the risk was there! He still had to ask “is… is he good though?” Of course, Eddie could threaten all he liked.

Dustin was his little brother, or as good as! It was his job to be insufferable.

The question however, made him think, he could pick any of them, any one of his clients to mould this imaginary boyfriend from, maybe mix and match, bring him to life from attributes of all of them, that’d be fine right? Nobody but Dustin really knew he was dating so… he wouldn’t be introducing them to him.

Perfectly coiffed brown hair… a warm smile… big, strong hands, a constellation of pretty moles dotted in places Eddie knew far too well. There was no amalgamation of faces, no mixture of personalities to make the perfect one, just a soft smile, warm hands, broad shoulders, muscle, and perfectly soft, thick brown hair… his favourite.

“Yeah… he’s… he’s great, Dustin… you’d like him” big strong softie he was, and it was so easy falling into the role of his boyfriend too, he’d been paying for that package for what felt like forever, he felt like he knew the man inside and out, like the back of his own hand.

He was the only one to have paid for that package continuously for over more than a few months, even Hagan only paid for it every now and then, never continuously. He thought Steve would have gotten tired of him by now but… It’d been two years.

Some people expected MARRIAGE after two years in a relationship.

Steve Harrington seemed to want him more and more by the day and the surprising thing, was that the thought didn’t invoke the same level of panic that he were SURE it would if anyone else were to have those wants, those needs of him.

He felt… comfortable with Steve, safe with him. Like he could show hints of himself, the real himself without the fear of losing him, of putting him off.

“You look so dopey smiling like that, y’know? You must really like him, huh?” He’d been smiling? Fuck… “Well… anyone who can make you smile like that just thinking about him is alright by me, I’ll cover for you, you can go sort his food out if you want.”

This was fine… totally completely fine. Would be better if Dustin could actually keep his mouth shut but alas. Dustin had a history of foot in mouthisms that'd gotten them into trouble after trouble after trouble years on the trot.

Eddie probably shouldn't have continued to tell him stuff, but that was his little brother so. He had to.

“Uh… yeah… yeah I like him. Thanks, I’ll… grab my coat, just tell em I feel sick or somethin so I’m goin home” he didn’t say goodbye, Dustin probably did that for him, just grabbed his coat and snuck out like he used to do as a teenager when he simply couldn’t be bothered dealing with his fathers drunk ranting about queers being put in cages.

He did have to come to one very unfortunate conclusion after that conversation though. After seeing Steve instead of a mishmash of faces, after being unable to put a random face to the title and spin it as truth.

Feelings were there. Real feelings. The mushy shit. The wants for more that he couldn’t have. The Pretty Woman syndrome without the corny and frankly rushed happy ending.

It couldn’t continue anymore, what he had with Steve had to end. Feelings… real feelings… he couldn’t have real feelings for his clients. It put his whole career on the line, his way of life gone in an instant all because his heart had to go all gooey for someone who probably didn’t even give a real fuck about him.

This was fine.

After the evening was done… he’d end it, terminate their contract. It was for the best. Steve deserved better than him anyway.

Part 3

[wesawbears]

Sunshine Court broke something in my brain, so here's some protective Jean because my boy is not gonna tolerate whatever is going on with Jeremy's family.

Tagging @bienmoreau @faintlyglow and @betterbekind

--

Jeremy's hands shake as he's getting ready for dinner with his family.

Jean doesn't mean to notice, perched as he is on the bed, watching the other man straightening his shirt in front of the dresser. Jeremy's very good at hiding it, with his easy smiles and easier deflections. By now, he knows it's an open secret that Jeremy avoids his family as best he can, and that Cat and Laila allow him his choice.

But Jean has spent his whole life reading into the slant of someone's posture to survive, and he knows the tremor in Jeremy's hands as if it was his own.

“You're afraid,” he says, the words arriving unbidden. But it's such a shock to see him like this– the man who stood in front of Jean at the darkest points of his life and refused to look away, cowed by the people who were supposed to love him. 

This was Jean's friend, his partner, and he was feeling unsafe.

Jeremy jumps at the sound, either lost in his own thoughts or used to the quietness of Jean for the last few minutes. “What?”

Jean weighs what he wants to say. He knows he's had his fair share of truths he's asked to keep to himself, and that Jeremy has never pushed when it mattered. But he also thinks about “for now”, and how hard truths can only be avoided for so long. “Is it your parents?”

Jeremy's eyes widen, a nervous fidget in the set of his hands. If he wants to lie, Jean's already decided to allow it. But Jeremy finally says a quiet, “Yes and no.”

Jean nods. “Do they- are you safe?” He doesn't think he's seen bruises, and he remembers the horror in Jeremy's voice as he told Jean that his parents should have protected him. But maybe he was projecting?

Jeremy's shoulders deflate. “Jean, no. It's nothing like that. I promise, they've never laid a hand on me.” He smiles, a crooked thing that has Jean following the curve of his lips. 

Still, Jean knows the way he's curled into himself, the way he's glancing at his phone as though it's about to jump at him. “But it's something.”

“It's just dinner. I can handle it. I know how to play the game and get out of there.” It's a perfectly neutral answer, but it's also more than he's said in months about what waits for him when he disappears to his family's home. Despite his living there most of the year, Jean refuses to call it Jeremy's home. His home is here, cleaning up with Laila and arguing with Cat, and where Jean can see him when his nightmares rattle him awake to count the rise and fall of Jeremy's breath from the next bed over.

“Do you want company?” It's a strange request, and Jean knows it as he says it. Jean still hates being around people, and speaking to a bunch of strangers even Jeremy is nervous around makes his stomach swim. But this is his partner, and if he needs him, he can be there for him. It is only fair.

Jeremy's face becomes unbearably gentle and Jean isn't ready to read into the fondness he sees there. “I will be okay. Like I said, I know how to do this.”

One part of Jean knows he should leave it at that. But the other part has cataloged the heaviness in Jeremy's countenance when he returns home– the rehearsed smile, the way he goes to bed early. The part that wins says, “I will walk home with you. When dinner is over.”

“You don't have to do that-”

“I want to,” he says, and he finds that he means it. The idea of Jeremy walking home by himself after spending an hour alone in a room of people is too much to bear. “Text me the address and I will be there.” He wanted to visit the grocery store anyway– he could do that while he waited. Cat would be happy to see the spice cabinet restocked.

“Alright,” Jeremy says, swallowing whatever protest sat on his lips. “Yeah, I'll- I'll text you.”

Jean nods, letting the matter drop while Jeremy finishes getting ready in amicable silence. When he leaves, it's with a nod that Jean recognizes, of someone who is resigning themselves to the inevitable. 

He doesn't know how to keep him from hurting, but he is at least well versed in the aftermath.

–

Jean arrives at the intended address at the appointed time, not wanting to be there too early and seem suspicious. Jeremy is not forthcoming about his familial circumstances, but he knows there is money involved, and in Jean's experience, outsiders were not tolerated. 

True to his word, Jeremy emerges after only a minute or two and his face lights up in a way that makes Jean's stomach twist when he spots him. He hurries toward Jean, and immediately begins walking once they reach each other.

It's easy to keep pace with him, but as Jeremy is about to breach the silence, a voice behind them brings him up short. 

“I thought you knew better than to bring people like that to the house?”

Jean bristles at the implication, but he's more concerned with the way Jeremy stills at his side. When Jeremy doesn't reply, Jean tries to ignore it as well and continue forward, but the voice continues.

“Flaunting it in front of us like you don't even care what you did to the family? You deserve whatever happens, you-”

“You will not speak to him that way.”

Jeremy draws back in surprise, but Jean keeps his expression cool as he turns to face Jeremy's brother.

“What did you say to me?”

Jean glances at Jeremy, sure he's crossing a line but unable to stop himself. “I said, you will not speak to him like that.”

A snort. “He's my brother. I can say whatever I like. Besides, how exactly are you going to stop me?”

“Jean,” Jeremy's voice is small beside him and Jean does not rise to the bait. 

He fixes the unfamiliar man with a cool glance. “Nothing. I know a great deal of small men exactly like you, and they always seem to get what they deserve in the end. I do not need to do anything to stop you. But no one has to listen to you either.”

With one last flat look, he walks, Jeremy matching his purposeful strides. As the silence grew longer between them, Jean wonders if he read this wrong, if Jeremy had not wanted him to say anything. Had he crossed a line? Had he made Jeremy feel unsafe?

“Thank you.”

Jean turns to look at him in surprise. “I did not mean to force you to face them before you were ready-”

“I'm not ready,” Jeremy admits. “And yeah, things will probably be pretty tense next time.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But- it means something to me that you were there. I– it made it easier, knowing you were there.”

Jean nods slowly, not trusting himself to be able to say anything. He had said it not because of anything owed between them, but because he could not bear to see Jeremy's light dimmed by those who were supposed to cherish him.

At last, he finds his voice to say, “I will not let you leave me behind.”

The smile Jeremy sends is a little tired, but it's also slow and soft and the first real one he's seen all night, so Jean counts it as a win.

Rainbows. Open roads. Friends. Jeremy's smile.

[shuhwaa]

Makeout Sessions with (G)I-dle

(G)I-dle all members x gn!reader words: ~300 per member genre: fluff warnings: suggestive

Soyeon:

When your girlfriend Soyeon comes home from a long day at work, finding you lazing around in the couch, her intentions are clear. She slips out of her shoes and throws aside her jacket while walking right over to you, and as she’s combing her fingers through her short hair, her gaze fixates on you. You're taken by surprise when she takes a seat in your lap, throwing her arms loosely around your shoulders, and you raise your eyebrows at her when she bites her bottom lip. "Babe?" you ask. "I had a bad day," she informs you. "And you know what would really help me relax right now?" "A kiss?" you guess, and she grins at you.  "Yes," Soyeon answers as her lips are already brushing against yours. "Actually," she then continues whispering, "one won't be enough." You put your hands on her hips in response, pulling her closer as you melt into another one of her kisses. Her tired movements soon become more passionate, and hands are beginning to roam each other's bodies. When she rolls her hips against yours, she lures a gasp out of you, and when she gives you a wicked grin, you know she has you where she wants you. She leans in for another kiss that leaves you breathless, and eventually she drags her lips down past your chin and you throw your head back to give her access to your throat.  "I feel so much better already, babe..." she mutters as she begins to nip at the sensitive skin. "Let's make us both feel real good, hm?"

Miyeon:

The two of you have been invited to a party that turns out to be super boring, but both your manners are too good to leave early. You agree to find an excuse for getting out of there as soon as possible, but for now you're still stuck at your mutual friend's house, hoping for time to pass faster. At some point boredom leads you to mess with Miyeon a bit, light touches lingering and growing more frequent. You have your arm around her most of the time, and whenever nobody's looking you let your fingertips ghost over her ass, and while sitting at the dining table, you rest your hand on her thigh and slowly drag it up higher every now and then. "Wanna get out of here for a while?" you eventually ask, throwing her a look that leaves her flustered. Still, she lets you lead her to a room with no people around, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, you push her up against it and keep her in place. "Y/N..." she calls out to you, and from the way her voice sounds and how she expectantly keeps staring at your lips, you can tell you've riled her up enough. Not wasting another second, you rake your fingers up into her hair and you bring her in for a hot kiss.  "Sorry for playing around..." you breathe when you part for a short moment. Miyeon shakes her head. As if to tell you to shut up and just keep going, she throws her arms around you and then smashes her lips against yours in a haste. "Fuck, you're perfect," you mumble into the kiss while you let your hands roam her body through the dress she's wearing.  "Baby..." your girlfriend mewls as you kiss your way down her throat and back up to her lips while your fingertips dance over her hips and down her thighs. "Let's stay here for a while," you mumble. Then you drag your lips south. "Nobody out there is gonna miss us anyway..."

Minnie:

It's evening when you find your girlfriend Minnie standing in the kitchen. Since you decided she'd be in charge of making dinner today, she's preparing some ingredients as you sneak up to her from behind and wrap your arms around her body.  "Baby~" you whine, putting your chin atop her shoulder, "Gimme kisses." Minnie can't but chuckle because of you trying to act cute, however she doesn't hesitate to put down the knife she's holding and spin around in your hold to cup your face with her hands. She gives you an endearing smile before placing a short peck on your lips, and when she pulls back she waits for you to complain that you want more. Another laugh escapes her upon seeing you so desperate. "You're so cute, Y/N," she remarks, leaning in so the tips of your noses are touching. Her gaze drops to your mouth and the smile on her face disappears, when she closes the distance between your lips. You hold her close as you let her set the pace, and when she parts from you for a second you're quick to kiss her again. "I have to make us food, baby," your girlfriend whispers into your mouth, but when you press your body up against her even tighter, she doesn't resist. Instead, she deepens the kiss, taking her time exploring your mouth, and as you keep slowly making out, you eventually wander to the sofa in the living room, dropping down there with you lying underneath her. Limbs tangled and breaths getting heavier, you can see the need in her eyes as you part for a long moment. "Dinner can wait," you mutter, pulling her in to attach your lips to her nape. Minnie moans in agreement, and when you pull back, she's quick to have you trapped in another open mouthed kiss.

Yuqi:

What was supposed to be an innocent study date quickly turns into the two of you flirting back and forth. Yuqi was supposed to help you with a paper for one of your classes, but really all you're doing is bicker in between countless little touches that aren't at all accidental. Eventually she ends up being the one snapping herself out of the laughter and putting on a strict face. "Y/N, let's focus!" Her deep voice resounds in your ears, but you're not up for taking the paperwork in front of you seriously just yet. "Only if I get a kiss!" you demand, lifting your chin in a challenging motion. Yuqi lets out a huff, before she starts to grin herself. "A kiss?" she repeats. "Fine." You're a bit surprised by her answer, not having expected her to agree so easily, but she doesn't leave you a whole lot of time to think about it anyway. Leaning in quickly, she brushes her lips against yours softly at first, leading the kiss. Slow movements become more passionate quickly, and just when you're about to deepen the kiss, she pulls back, leaving you with a tingly sensation on your lips. "More?" she asks, and the way she raises an eyebrow at you tells you that this can only be a trap, but who are you to say no to another taste of your girlfriend's sweet kisses? "Yeah," you breathe, closing the distance between you and her again. She cups your face in her hands while you undo her ponytail in order to thread your fingers through her hair, all the while kissing at a slow pace. You become needier eventually, pressing your lips against hers more firmly, and she pulls you in closer, before she tears herself away eventually. You're breathless, yet you want more, but Yuqi avoids all further approaches. "Nuh-uh." She shakes her head at you and then taps the paper in front of you. "I just gave you kisses for free. If you want more, you'll have to earn them!"

Shuhua:

It's Sunday and almost lunchtime, but somehow the two of you still haven't gotten out of bed. Instead, you're lying side by side, both focused on your phones and exchanging trivialities. "Wanna order food later?" you ask. "We have some at home though?" Shuhua answers, peeking at your phone screen to see you scrolling through the delivery app you usually use. "What do you wanna order?" "Not sure..." you look up to find her face right in front of you, and you chuckle at her messy hair, before trying to comb your fingers through it but getting stuck somewhere in the middle. She swats your hand away eventually, pouting because you must've accidentally pulled on a strand too hard. "Baby," you call out to her, "I wanna kiss you." Your girlfriend can only smile and then dramatically puff out her lips for you to give her a peck. "That's nice too, of course, but..." You throw your phone to the side in order to crawl on top of her. "I meant a proper kiss." When you lean in you see her eyelids flutter shut, and she sighs into the kiss as you press your lips against hers. You can feel her putting her palms on your hips, dragging her hands up to your waist and behind your shoulders as you begin to slowly make out with her. You part for air eventually, however you don't wait too long to kiss a trail up her jaw and down the side of her throat, until you feel one of her hands at the back of your head, pulling you close along with a moan falling from her lips.  "Maybe we wait a bit with the food..." you mutter, looking up to find her gaze on you, and you place one of your hands atop her stomach to have it wander up to her chest.  "Yeah," she agrees, already bringing you closer for another kiss. "Breakfast can wait..."

[armins-main-hoe]

Todoroki’s Twin au

Pt.5

Your sister’s food was tasty as always, it had been a while since you last ate her food after moving into the school dorms. Had the atmosphere not been so awkward for you, you would have a warm smile on your face while you enjoyed each bite of the food. You sat between your two older siblings with Midoriya sitting opposite you. You would look over at your father every now and then, he has a neutral expression, it was softer than you mostly see from him. Looks like he is trying to be better, though you aren’t so sure if being better now would fix anything.   There was some small talk here and there, but you were mostly zoning out, eating the food without even realising it.  

“How is your internship going Y/n?” You heard your father speak up. His voice was thick and stern, however, there was no doubt that it was softer than it usually was.  

You look up from your food, lowering your chopsticks as you looked over at him. Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “It’s going well.” You replied simply, not going into much detail. In all honesty, you didn’t feel like talking much tonight. First of all, you were tired from patrolling all day, secondly, you were regretting coming over to this family dinner because of how awkward it was getting. If only you could speed time up and get this whole thing over with.  

“You should come and join my agency-”

“I’m good, thanks.” You didn’t even let him finish his sentence. You knew Midoriya and Bakugo were struggling to swallow their food with the thick tension growing. Fuyumi nudged your side, but you ignored her. You knew your father was only saying all that as a formality, he didn’t actually mean it. You know that he is perfectly happy with the three boys as his interns. Sure, perhaps he’d rather not have the other two but since he has Shoto as his intern, he doesn’t mind.  

“I understand you do not like me, but you would be better off learning from a higher-ranking pro than-”  

“I said I’m good. Is that so hard to understand?” Your voice strained a little as you tried not to raise it too much, after all you had guests over.  

A few beats of silence followed after. Great now not only is it awkward but you’re the reason for it. You picked up your plate and utensils and got up.  

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna leave early.” You muttered as you walked out of the living room.  

“But it’s late, you can’t go back alone-” You heard your older sister calling after you, but you were too caught up in the downing thoughts in your head to even register what she was saying. Going back to the kitchen, you quickly washed your plate and got your bag and coat, leaving the house before anyone could call out after you. As you were on your way out, you walked past your old room. The door was slightly open, but you walked straight past it anyway.  

The sun had already settled an hour ago so when you looked up at the sky, you could see the stars littered in the dark sky. You knew how to get back to school, it was a few trains stops away. If you walk a little quicker, you might make it in time for the next train, then you can go to your dorm room and finally get this day over with.  

Your mind was still flooded with that family dinner, you bet their all just laughing awkwardly and acting like everything is fine. Why does your father even bother at this point? Why bother making things better now when the damage is already done? Is so obvious he prefers Shoto over you so there is no need for him to be all ‘you should come over to my agency’, like hell you would ever join his agency.  

Had he given you this offer a year ago you’d be jumping with excitement and saying yes quicker than you could breathe. You’d be thinking that you’re father finally sees you as worthy, finally doesn’t see you as an extra child that came along with Shoto. However, he asked you now. He asked you when you know he’s only asking out of formality, out of his efforts on looking like a better father not because he actually sees you for what your worth is.  

Ugh, this is all so frustrating. So stupid. So, tiring. Why couldn’t you have been born into some other family? Why this one? Why do you have to go through all this, were you really that bad in your past life?  

“Well, would you look at that. Another one of Endeavour’s mistakes.” A dry, croaky voice spoke out of nowhere. You snapped out of your thoughts and started looking around for where the voice came from.  

“It’s pitiful. Really. I mean, just look at you.” The voice spoke again, this time you followed the direction it came from, it came from an alleyway you were walking past. Great. You decided to keep walking back to the station, but you got dragged into the dark alleyway by a rather strong hand.  

Your heart started beating quicker, you face went cold. You can’t see anything so you can’t fight whoever it is because you don’t know where they are. You should escape, but you can’t. You can’t move your hands or legs. It’s like your body won’t listen to you.  

You’re a hero in training, get a grip!  

“Your little retaliation against your father was cute. Did nothing to actually affect him though.” The voice spoke again. The voice was dry and croaky, as if it was worn out. 

You heard a matchstick be lit and soon a small lamp was lit. It was only now that you could put a face to that voice. Your breath was taken away when you saw who. You knew him, not very well but you’ve seen his face enough times to know that he’s from the league of villains, just you forgot his name-

“Tell me, are you really being a hero because that’s your dream? Or is it just to prove to your father than you are better?”  

What the fuck? Why is he talking like he knows so much about you. Your eyes moved around, and you saw a few other members of the league with him at the back, all smiling menacingly at you. The villain that was talking to you had parts of his skin turned purple, with metal that looked like staples holding his skin together. He towered over you, smiling at you just like the other villains around him. Wiat, you’ve definitely seen this guy before.

“Let go!” You ignored his question and struggled against your invisible restraints.  

You could hear the villains at the back snicker and mock you as you tried to escape.  

“No use trying to run away. Now answer my question.” The villain who towered over you asked.  

You kept struggling against the force keeping your body still.  

“You’re breath stinks!” You shouted at him before you finally felt your body move. As soon as he knew you were free, he activated his quirk, creating blue flames in his palms which you put out by shooting water at him.  

“Ah, right. You have that as your quirk, how annoying.” You heard him mumble as he continued dodging all your attacks.  

“Don’t think your plan is gonna work Dabi. I’m leaving.” A villain at the back spoke before others hummed in agreement. You still kept your eyes on Dabi, making your quirk work faster to increase the pressure of water shooting out of your palms so that it leaves a mark upon impact. You did manage to land quite a few blows on him before his entire body turned into muddy goo, pooling around your feet.

“He was a fake.” You spoke to yourself. Looking back up, you see that all the other villains had already left. Your feet wobbled a little as you took steps back until your back hit the wall. Chest rising up and down, taking slow deep breaths as thoughts of the family dinner were replaced with questions of what just happened.  

That villain kept asking you questions. Kept questioning your reasoning to be a hero. He asked if you wanted to be a hero to prove to your father that you are better. Better than Shoto? Wait, how does that villain know that much? Who is he? Why did he ask all that? Why did he not hurt you when he clearly had the upper hand? What were his motives?  

Minutes pass by before you managed to calm down and continue going back to school. On your way back all you could think of now was that sudden villain attack. Well, it wasn’t really an attack, at least not a grand one. It was almost like they were trying to make you come with them, willingly. When Bakugo was captured by the league of villains, they were forcing him to join them. It’s not like they had given you much of a choice either, but they were much more relaxed and were not worried about you getting away, they gave you chances to fight back.  

Why would they do that?

“Um... Y/n? You good?”  

You look up and see mina standing in front of you. Wait, you got back to the dorms already? Did you zone out the whole way back?

“You just came back pretty late; you weren’t replying to anything anyone was saying.” She told you, tilting her head a little in worry.  

“Oh...” You blinked. You looked around and saw a few other classmates in the living room, all looking at you confused or worried. “I’m okay...”  

“Are you sure about that?” Mina spoke up again.  

“Yeah.” You nod.  

Neither Mina nor anyone else looked convinced.  

“It’s just that I saw dabi on the way back and-”

“You WHAT?”  

---

Laying on your bed in your dorm room was supposed to be comfortable. It was supposed to help lull you to sleep, after all, you were longing to lay in bed throughout the entire family dinner.  So, you eventually gave up on the idea of sleeping and got up to go to the balcony attached to your dorm room. The air was cold, but it was comforting in a way, not many stars were in the sky, but you could still point out a few. It was rather late so you doubt anyone would be up to keep you company.

“Gods damn it all.”

Or maybe there is.

You look down and see everyone’s favourite blonde standing up after tripping over. You use your water quirk to create water slide, made out of water, to quickly get to him, though that did mean your clothes got wet, probably should have thought that through.

“The fuck is you doing up so late?” Bakugo asked, a little startled to see you behind him but he covers it up with a frown.

“Couldn’t sleep and then I saw you trip.”

“I didn’t trip, and I am not going to be a source of entertainment for you.”

“Why are you still awake?”

His shoulders tensed up a little.

“None of your damn business you dumb mermaid.”

“Mermaid?”

“Yeah, a dumb one.” Bakugo scoffed. You shrugged and squeezed out some of the water from your top. You saw him roll his eyes and start walking away, you knew it would piss him off if you followed him, so you started following him.  

“You idiot, why are you following me around? Go away.”  

“Where are you going?”  

“Like I said before, none of your business.”  

“What happened after I left?”  

That made him stop. He turned around and looked down at you with a smaller scowl on his face.  

“Oh yeah, what’s up with you and your dad? I know your brother’s story, but I never understood yours.”  

You raised an eyebrow. “You... actually want to know?”  

“Don’t get the wrong idea, mermaid. I’m not into knowing about everyone’s family drama but after having been put through that hell of a dinner, I think I deserve to know.”  

Before you knew it, you and Bakugo were sitting under a tree that was at that behind the dormitory, talking about your whole past.  

“I often switch the person I blame for everything, going through all of my family members and then blaming myself too. I know my father has a major role to play in everything, he probably is the cause of it all, but I still find myself being so competitive with Shoto, even though I tell myself I don’t need my father’s approval for anything. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing, one day I think this and another I’ll think that.”  

“Well, that sucks ass but I’m not your therapist so I’m not gonna say shit.” He leaned his head back on the tree.  

“Weren’t you the one who asked to know-”

“You’ve got too much sea water in your dumb ears, mermaid.” He stood up. “Stick to focusing on yourself though. Sure, family matters and all but for now just focus on yourself.”  

You blinked at him. “Maybe I do have water in my ears because there is no way you just said that.”  

You heard him scoff again, he walked over to you and crouched down beside you.  

“You’re feisty and somewhat more tolerable than your brother. Now if anyone and I mean anyone, finds out about us hanging out here, I’ll kill you. Got it.”  

You let you a quick breath through your nose as a laugh and shrugged, “Sure.”  

He ruffled your hair, albeit harshly and messing up your hair, before walking away. You never thought you would ever rant and trauma dump to Bakugo fucking Katsuki, but it seems life is full of surprises lately.

Wait. Why was he up and out of his dorm in the first place? He usually goes to sleep so early. Wait, where did he go? Wasn’t he right there a minute ago? 

[mrselvisbutler]

Be a good boy for me

Request: the reader is feeling very needy and wants to have some fun with Spencer. I think he should definitely be submissive so the she can have her way with him. Can you make it so he has to sneak into the house?

Hey Anon! Yes I can definitely do this request. I love this idea of the reader having his way with him. (This will be in a female readers pov)

Warnings: 18+ only please. There is not P in V but there is grinding. Hair pulling, sub-Spencer Reid, dom reader (let me know if I am missing any. I know I probably am but I just want to make sure)

Be a good boy for me

Y/n has been dating spencer for a while now. She and Spencer immediately kicked things off the instant they met. Y/n has been feeling really needy lately and wants to have her way with Spencer.

“Can you come over later today? I really want to hang out. We haven’t gotten to for a while!” Y/n says

“Y/n I’m busy tonight you know that! I can try to ask Hotch if I can take tonight off but I don’t think he will let me.” Spencer says

“Please Spence” she says in a seductive tone in the best hopes of getting him to go. “Just tell him you aren’t feeling well! I need you so bad. I really want you to come over!”

“Ok, ok I’ll ask. But there is no certain that he will actually let me” he responded

“JUST ASK ALREADY” she said as he hurried to get his phone. Spencer called Hotch and asked if he could call in sick today. He threw in a cough every once in a while to try to make it convincing. Hotch didn’t believe him one but but let him take the day off anyways.

“Ok I can come over after but aren’t your parents going to be over tonight? He asked

“Yeah but I can sneak you in! It’s fine. You can go through my window. I’m close enough to the ground!” She almost begged him to come over at this point. “I’ll leave my window unlocked!”

“What time do you want me over?” He asked

“Well my parents usually fall asleep pretty early the day they travel so maybe around 8:00?” She suggested. Spence agreed to come over then.

**Time Skip to 7:56**

Later that evening, after dinner and a couple of drinks, he drove himself over to her house. He pulled up a few houses down so her parents wouldn’t see his car. He walked up to her window and knocked light my on the door so only she could here. “Hello? It’s me, you there?” He called out, his voice a bit muffled as he kept knocking.

“Hey Spence, thank you so much for coming!” She said

“Of course, anything for you.” He said as he walked towards her, he leaned in for a small kiss, “so you said you missed me?” He whispered in her ear.

“I did! I missed you so much. I want you so bad.” She started undoing his tie very slowly to tease him.

His heart started racing faster and faster, “oh god..do you really want me that much?” He asked with a smirk

“Yes!” She finally got his tie off and pushed him onto the bed. She tied his hands to he headboard using his tie and tightening them so he pilent move his hands.

His eyes went wide, “j-Jesus..you sure we won’t get caught?” He asked as his heart beat faster and faster

“Yes. I'm sure! You just have to be a good boy and be quiet” she said

“Okay..okay, I can do that.” He tried to sound confident, but he was so nervous he probably sounded like he was scared shitless. “Okay, what are you gonna do now?”

“I'm going to make you feel so good!” She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands along his body.

He shuddered and moved slightly as she ran her hands along his body. “Oh god..” he whispered

“Good boy” she said as she brought her hands down to his waist. She started to unbuckle his belt.

He tried to stay quiet, but his breathing become heavy very quickly. “G-god, you’re really good at th-this” he whispered, not being able to control himself.

“I know I am” she took his belt off and tied his feet to the ends of the bed so he can no longer move.

“A-ah..” his whole body was shaking now, his breathing heavy. “Jesus..”

“Be a good boy and stay quiet for me ok?” She said as she slid his pants off. She threw his pants onto the ground and got back onto the bed. She started to run her hands along the line of his boxers making him shiver. She could already see him getting hard.

He nodded and started breathing in deep breaths, trying to calm himself the best he can, his eyes stayed shut the whole time, but she wanted him to look at her. “Look at me please. I want you too see what I can do!

She straddles his waist and started to kiss along his neck and up to his mouth.

He starts breathing heavy again as she straddles him. He tried to stay quiet as she kissed his neck and worked her way up to his mouth.

once she got up to his mouth she teased him a bit making him want her even more. “You're going to need to beg me for more if you want me.”

“P-please..I need more..” he whispered, his voice heavy. He started to breathe rapidly again as well as he started to move around a bit trying to get comfortable

“Oh come on you can do better than that” she starts to pull on his hair a bit.

He started to move around more, he was trying to stay quiet so much that his head was starting to hurt. “Y-you want me to beg more?..please, I need you” he whined out.

She started to make out with him as he is whining giving into his begs. There were more whines coming from his mouth, he couldn’t control it anymore. He started to kiss you back after a moment.

She kissed down his chest and down to his boxer line. “good boy Spence!”

His eyes widened in surprise when she started to kiss down his chest. His breathing became heavy again when she said good boy. “Y-yeah..” he said as he started thrust his hips up when you got to his v-line.

She slowly removed his boxers and pulled his dick out.

His breathing becomes heavy as you take his boxers off. "Ah.I-I..you're so good at the.." he struggles to find words to say as you circle his tip with your tongue.

You feel him shudder underneath you. He managed to control himself, even if it meant squeezing his eyes shut to try and get a grip on himself. "-jeez.." was all he could think to say

“Baby I can’t stay quiet anymore. I need more! Please.” He went on begging. He was starting to make too much noise and she was nervous her parents were going to hear.

She shoved a cloth in his mouth so he couldn’t talk anymore. She now has all the control over Spencer and she is enjoying every second of it. He’s all tied up and submissive for her and following her every order.

He couldn’t say a single word, just muffled noises that could barely be heard. His breathing increased very rapidly as you did this.

“Good boy” she says as she keeps teasing him

He couldn’t speak anymore, now he had to rely on his breathing to answer your statement. He let out a few heavy breaths, clearly showing his excitement, his eyes were roaming all over her body the whole time.

“I’m going to try something ok baby.” She moved back to straddling his waist. She could feel his dick throbbing against her pussy now.

He nodded his head, the cloth in his mouth still preventing him from being able to speak. He watched as she got onto his waist again, not sure what she was going to do now.

She started to pull on his hair a bit. Just enough to the point where it doesn’t hurt but it feels pleasurable. “do you like that baby?”

When she pulled on his hair it was like a switch got flipped in his head. He started to squirm and make small noises from the pleasure, his breathing increasing dramatically. Despite this, he was still quiet, obeying her when she pulled his hair.

“Good boy!” She could feel him getting more excited underneath her as he kept squirming. the pleasure was becoming unbearable for him

He was still quiet for the most part, but the few small noises he occasionally made while squirming was noticeable. He tried his hardest not to make any noise, but the cloth in his mouth combined with the way she treated him made it very difficult. She could feel him throbbing and pushing up on her pussy.

The motion of him thrusting up and her grinding down on him brought her so close to the edge but she held herself back trying to keep composure.

“Do you want me to do more baby?” She asked

He nodded in response, his breathing heavy as he tried not to be too loud. He would let out a small whimper from time to time, but that was about as far as he could go when it came to being vocal.

“Ok I’ll make you feel so good, Spence!” She said as she started pulling the cloth out of his mouth.

When she pulled the cloth out of his mouth to let him breathe, he let out a large breath, which was his first moment of relief in a while. “Can you continue to pull on my hair?..” he asked, feeling a bit bold after what just happened

as soon as spencer said that she roughly pulled on his hair which caught him by surprise but he liked it. He was slowly becoming more desperate to the point that he couldnt handle it anymore “oh yeah? You like that don't you” she said

His eyes widened a little bit when she pulled on his hair again, but he continued to nod his head. “Y-yeah..I do..I like it a lot” he whispered frantically, as he got closer to the edge more and more by the second.

She kept grinding on him and pulling on his hair which made him get even closer to the edge “tell me baby. Tell me how close you are!”

“Oh- oh my god I’m so close please. I need to cum so bad!” He whimpered, his breathing heavy as he tried to hold on to his composure as best as he could.

He was getting closer to the edge every moment that passed by. “Shit… mmhh, fuck. Oh my god. I can’t”

“Yes you can baby” you moan out getting closer to the edge with him.

He felt himself get closer and closer to the edge every moment that passed by in a way he hadn't felt in years. His heart beat faster and faster, his breathing heavier and heavier. She could see the pleasure take over him all at once.

She pulled on his hair really hard. He let out a huge groan “tell me how much you are enjoying this”

He let out a groan when she pulled his hair, his body moving a small bit from the pleasure. “I’m enjoying it a lot..” he whispered to her, his voice sounded a bit strained.

“Good boy, are you close baby?” She asked as she kept grinding her pussy on his dick.

He nodded his head, trying his absolute hardest to stay quiet. “Y-yeah..I’m uh..very close…” he said, breathing fast and heavy as he got closer and closer with every breath.

“Good boy! I want you to cum for me Spence! I’m giving you permission” she said.

“H-huh?..n-no..I need to be quiet for this..” he said, breathing heavily. He couldn’t help but get a little bit closer to the edge with each breath he took, a few more pulls of his hair would make him go over. Spence liked it when he was gagged. It made him feel so submissive

She keeps pulling on his hair. “come on baby let it out” she shoves her hand over his mouth so he stayed quiet.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, with every pull of his hair. His eyes widened a bit when he felt your hand over his mouth. “Mmhh” you heard from Spencer. He is so close to cumming.

“Come on baby you can do it” she said.

He tried to speak from under her hand, but it was muffled so he gave up. He just let his body move on its own now, her in complete control of him.

She pulled on his hair and palmed him some more which made him cum

He could feel all the control leave his body, a few heavy breaths leaving his mouth from how good it felt. It was so intense that, for a moment, he could no longer move, he could no longer speak.

“Good boy Spence!” She moaned out as she started to cum. She grinned on his dick getting as much friction as possible while rubbing her clit.

“Ahh.. oh my… fucking god. Spence that felt so good! You did such a good job for me!” She said as she took her hand off his mouth.

“Thank you! Mmhhh” he moaned out as she got off of him. He was struggling against his ties. She untied each of his arms and legs and got a warm washcloth to clean him up.

“That feels so good. Thank you so much!” Spence said. Y/n went to go put the washcloth back and join Spence back in bed.

“You did such a good job for me baby! “ she said as she leaned into him so they could go to sleep.

“You don't think your parents heard me right?” Spence asked.

“Oh god I hope not.” y/n said.

The both of them cuddled till they fell asleep. She fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and got comfortable for the night.

[luffyvace]

Nami x male reader

FROM MY LIST

SO YUP FINALLY DOING IT

there needs to be more fluffy content for her x male reader. RIGHT NOW. :) enjoy ♥︎

OKK SO

why i gotta start like that every time🧍‍♀️

NAMI WORKS U TO THE BONE

less then other men tho

she cares about u obviously

but ur still her man!!

so you steal still gotta do stuff for her<3

even more so really

bc like

YOUR HER MAN

of course you have to carry her bags, watch her fashion shows, bring her drinks, take her out expensive places, help her pick the outfit of the day, wrestle the boys not to bother her, carry her, protect her from too strong of foes and be forced to wear girly stuff for her own amusement?? wym?? your her boyfriend!

yup and i mean it, you gotta do all that

if you can’t carry all her bags and buy all her stuff how else will it get done??

and you better have money too

i assume you do since she wouldn’t GET with a broke man…

i mean unless you really charmed her

its too high of a priority for her to over look unless you have a golden personality or something

dw about it tho either way she loves you and money<3

and yes you do have to sit there and watch all her fashion shows til the end

and you BETTER give good replies too

i’m talking you gotta be the boyfriend who turns into her best friend for a hot sec to hype her up 🤪

”you go girl”

”omg your that girl frfr”

”that outfit ate DOWN.”

LOLOL it’s fun for both of you

unless your like strictly masculine or smth

then u might be more annoyed

but the combo of you loving your girlfriend and her being really good at persuading people leads to you doing it anyway

honestly for bringing her drinks and food

sanji usually makes it

he tells you to give credits but you don’t

especially if you can cook yourself

sanji insists he should do it since he’s the official cook

but sometimes you do it anyway

so it can come straight from the heart yk?

you and sanji may or may not beef

if you have no problem with him then it’s prob one sided on his side

definitely mad you bagged nami before he did

or any woman for that matter

but anyway

you mostly bring her refreshments and food when she’s working on her maps :)

btw it takes like 80 minutes to pick out the outfit of the day

she gets you up early so you can help her

that way by the time everyone else is up it seems like she whips up really good outfits just like that

when in actuality

“ok this one or this one?”

”uhh that one..?”

“NO WRONG ANSWER”

💥

nah i’m playing she doesn’t hit you

(yes she does but it’s lovingly)

[no it’s not but she doesn’t do it as often to you as she does the other guys]

anyway again..

yeah there’s such thing as a wrong answer

”why’d you ask me if you already had one in mind??”

“you were supposed to agree with me!”

”how was i supposed to know which one to pick??”

😡

as far as tackling the rest of the boys

”honey~ handle my light weight”

the way i wrote it made it seem lighthearted but the glint in her yes tells you—you better do it

annddd you do!

you fling luffy outside, he lands onto usopp who starts playing with him

you drag (snoring) zoro out onto the deck to sleep

you remind franky about the project he was working on

you tell brook to go play some music for luffy and usopp

you ask chopper some doctor sounding question which gives him a new idea to try out and he rushes off

robin is being quiet already<3

and sanji’s just cooking dinner:)

so now, problem solved, nami can have some peace and quiet

yippie!! mission accomplished!

now there’s not gonna be a expensive place on every island but if there is you can bet your beli she’s making you take her there

and she’s blowing off all your money

at the least it’s just you two tho

you somehow shake the rest of the crew to get some alone time

the date turns out to be really romantic and sweet so you enjoy it even if your pockets hurt

y’all def steal stuff from the restaurant

you don’t have her swiping habit but the silverware was real gold and oh boy did the opportunity of money sound sweet like honey 😋

carrying her is self explanatory

she just wants to be treated with grace and care

likes he’s delicate and beautiful the way she is

which she is

so you do:)

you carry her all types of ways but never roughly or 💥💥

mostly bridal style

cuz duh it’s romantic

you’ve even kissed her like that quite a few times

random but she likes to watch the sunset with you

btw you definitely kicked some fish butt if you joined early enough

even if you only had a crush on her back then

you fo’ sure weren’t gon let that slide 🤨🤨

what arlong thought this was⁉️🗣

not on your watch‼️

i hope your strong cuz even if your not you gonna become her shield or smth cuzzz..

YOUR HER BOYFRIEND

YOU GOTS TO PROTECT HER NOW

WHICH MEANS YOU TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM FOOL!!

if your strong and have muscles she prob secretly or not so secretly admires them

and yes my mans, as the last topic you will wear makeup and girly hairstyles

especially if you have long hair—then she def wants to play in it

there’s no saying no either

i don’t know what to tell you if you don’t like it my brother

have fun 🤷‍♀️

LOL i love these they were so fun n silly 🤪

enjoy male readers!! come eat good!!